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k-nayee · 7 months ago

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Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | ii

wc: 3.5k a/n: yeah I'm sorry y'all. I'm, a slow updater/editor. But I'm getting faster and better! Here's the animation for this part

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recap

"You truly believe you can ensure my safe passage home? After everything?"

"With all my heart..."

The salty tang of the sea clung to your hair as you followed Odysseus back to the creaking ships. The satchel against your hip jostled with every step, containing all of your life ever since the ambush of your village.

Midway through readying the ship for their long-awaited return, the men around fell silent as Odysseus approached.

Murmurs rippled through the crew as they watched their battle-scarred leader approach, a stranger by his side.

Reaching the center of the gathered crowd, Odysseus raised a hand for silence. A hush fell over, their gazes flitting between you and their captain.

"This one!" he boomed, aura carrying the authority of a seasoned leader, "is under my is under my protection. Do not lay hand upon her, show her the respect you may give to me."

Glances flicker towards you and stare intently, their faces etched with curiosity and a hint of something...more.

What it could be? You don't know, but you refuse to show it. Even riddled with fear and wary, you held your head high, posture radiating confidence.

That's when the whispers reached your ears: "A goddess, perhaps?" one muttered. "Sent to test us," another added, a hint of reverence lacing his voice.

'Wait...what?' You blink at this. Looking closer, you realize they are staring at you in awe, not lust.

You steal a peek at Odysseus, but his face remained impassive, any amusement he might've felt hidden.

'A goddess huh?' Your lips twitch, a snort of disbelief threating to escape your lips. Seems Odysseus initial shock towards you wasn't a one man reaction.

"Men!" attention is brought once more to the King of Ithaca.

"We have weathered storms. We have battled and sacrificed. Yet, victory lies within reach. Today," he brings a fist up to the heavens. "we begin our journey home!"

Cheers erupted from them, collective roars of relief and anticipation.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity: sails unfurled, oars readied for rowing—image of home ever the motivator.

Days bled into weeks, the endless blue horizon and rocking of the ship becoming your new normal.

The crew remained wary, interactions limited to curt greetings and exchanges. Your only solace came from occasional conversations with Odysseus and surprisingly, both Eurylochus and Polites.

Speaking of which, a tense discussion was brewing near the stern. Eurylochus, his weathered face etched with worry, was locked in a heated debate with the king.

"Six hundred mouths to feed," Eurylochus stressed, frustration coloring his voice, "and our supplies are dwindling! We may not make it far, we are running on fumes!"

Polites, ever the diplomat, step forth in hopes of calming the second in command. "We'll find a way, Eurylochus. Odysseus is a resourceful man—"

"Look!" Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Odysseus himself, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You follow his line of sight, spotting a flurry of birds flying into the distance. Your brow raise at that, catching on to his proposal.

"We watch where they go, and there we will hunt for food." Giving a firm nod, Eurylochus began giving new orders.

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Hours had pass, soon the Sun going down leaving the stars and moon as your only source of light.

"Captain!" Polities' cry breaks you out of your daily/night inventory checkup. "There in the distance: I see a light faintly glowing."

You quickly stuff everything back into your bag, rushing over to stand next to the Greek warrior and see for yourself.

He turns and gives you a bright grin, lightly bouncing on his feet. "Maybe it's a village lighting a fire? Who knows! They might even share some food."

"No." Odysseus shakes his head. "No, somethings not right. I see fire...but there's no smoke."

Eurylochus scoffed. "Let's raid the place and be done with it!" he barked, his hunger overriding caution.

Odysseus narrowed his eyes. "No," he countered, his voice firm. "There must be another way, one that doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Captain you can't be serious, we don't know of the danger's ahead! A—"

"Just!...just give me until sunrise," Taking a glance at the awaiting crew, his voice lower in attempt to quell their bloodthirst knowing just speaking of potential fighting would set them off. "And if we don't return, burn this place to the ground."

Odysseus turns to Polities, gesturing towards the approaching island. "Polites, gear up. We'll scout ahead."

"Yes sir!"

"I'm coming with you!"

The mortal king's head snapped towards you, frown creasing his brow. "Absolutely not."

Your voice rose in protest. "B-but I can help! I'm a fast learner. My skills..."

"There will be no debate," he states, voice leaving no room for argument. "The men are weary. They need their rest. You will stay and watch over little Ajax."

Anger welled in your chest as your teeth gritted. You storm off, the sting of rejection burning in your eyes.

Being reduced to babysitting(once again) felt like an insult to your abilities. You couldn't help but pout in disappointment as you watch the two sail step off the ship, crossing your arms with a glare.

The rest of the night crawled by, the time made longer from your simmering resentment.

It was sunrise when Odysseus and Polities returned, their faces were painted with apprehension.

"We've been told of a cave with food in the east!" he said "enough to last us on our journey back to Ithaca, even extra to spare."

You perk up at the news as men were called to arms. Pushing your way into the forming group, you stand before Odysseus who releases a heavy sigh upon seeing your wide grin.

"Perhaps I can help assess the situation? My knowledge of—"

"We have enough help," he holds up a hand, silencing you with narrowed eyes. "You stay here with Ajax. Guard duty."

You bite your tongue to keep your anger from saying something disrespectful.

Taking a deep breath, you clasp your hands in a pleading motion. "Please. Just let me help. I-I can gather herbs, o-or even tend wounds..."

"There'll be no wounds," Odysseus says curtly. "We'll be in and out, quick and quiet."

And with that, he and his newly gathered group of men began venturing east in search of food.

Though your fists clenched in fury, you knew better than to disobey Odysseus directly. Instead, you waited, a plan forming in your mind.

It was then upon spotting the ever-cautious Ithacan Eurylochus right as he prepares to leave and catch up with the main group, an idea sparks.

You quickly approach him in determined strides. "Eurylochus, there isn't any proper medical supplies on board. I'm sure the men will gain injuries on their quest for food. And for that, I will need to go and get more herbs."

Eurylochus barely glanced in your direction, more focused on ensuring his weapons are tied on correctly as he gives a dry chuckle. "Injuries huh? I'm sure medicine won't be needed for a little wound."

"You sure about that?" Offput at the chilly tone of your voice, he looks up only to be taken aback at the emptiness of your gaze. "Even the mightiest of warriors have fallen, crossing the River Styx from a mere scrape."

A tremor of unease ran through Eurylochus. He cleared his throat, the bravado gone

"Alright," he conceded, "but if anything goes wrong..."

"There won't be anything wrong!" you assured him quickly, smile bright and innocent as if you hadn't just traumatized this man.

Gesturing two nearby men to come over, Eurylochus gives you one final look. "Now, I'm trusting you to get what you need and get out. This is Lycus and Alexander; they will watch over you, so stay close. Understood?"

You bobbed your head enthusiastically, already launching into a flurry of excited instructions for your temporary bodyguards.

Eurylochus couldn't help but shake his head and sigh as he turned to leave. "Gods...Odysseus is gonna kill me..."

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The moment your feet touched the shore, a thrill shot through you. The air hummed with an unfamiliar energy, and the vibrant foliage swaying in the gentle breeze.

Years of training under your mother's watchful eye kicked in: You recognized the landscape instantly—the lush vegetation, the specific types of trees—everything she taught echoing in your mind.

Unlike Odysseus and his men trampling path, or the impatient stomping of your guards, you carefully navigated the undergrowth with practiced grace; steps light and sure.

Awe filled you as you surveyed the diverse flora. You stopped every so often, meticulously collecting samples in your satchel, murmuring a silent thank you with each pluck.

A memory flickered from your childhood's countless foraging trips; your mother kneeling beside you in a sun-dappled meadow as her hand gently guides yours. "Plants are lives of their own...they are deserving of respect, as would any other being."

Too caught up in reminiscing the past, you miss it when your small group stumbled into a clearing.

It wasn't until you noticed the men behind you stopping themselves did you pay attention to your surroundings.

There, in the center of the area was a group of figures. Their faces were serene, eyes filled with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but look at them in awe, tales heard over the years could never measure up to the—

The sound of drawn weapons snap you out of it.

"W-wait!" you cry, darting forward and placing yourself between the armed men and the peaceful Lotus-eaters. "Lower your weapons! They mean no harm."

Lycus, a gruff soldier with a gnarly scar on his cheek to match, scoffs. "They could be a threat, best get rid of them while we can" he grumbles, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

Undeterred, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze.

"And as I said, they mean no harm. Pose no danger Look at them!" You gestured towards the Lotus-eaters, some of whom were staring at you with wide-eyes, others seemingly lost in a blissful daydream. "They wouldn't hurt a fly."

A tense silence hung in the air. The men exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react.

You pressed further, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "Besides. I'm not moving, and Odysseus wouldn't be too happy if I got hurt...now would he?"

The mere mention of the formidable leader caused the men to flinch, images of Odysseus' fearsome wrath flashing in their minds.

Lycus grunts in defeat. "Fine." Reluctantly sheathing his weapon, Alexander follows suit in a mixture of annoyance and grudging acceptance.

The Lotus people seemed captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Their gaze remained transfixed on you, faces filled with a strange mix of curiosity and wonder.

You turn and offer them a warm smile, disarming the Lotus-eaters completely. Their gaze remained fixed on you, captivated not just by your courage and kindness, but also by your beauty.

Unlike the warriors who had come earlier, bristling with aggression, you approached them with an open heart of respect and curiosity.

And they knew this...from the moment you stepped into the forest, you were being watched after all.

So watchful of those who arrived on their island, the Lotus-eaters had seen everything: your reverence for the plant life, your gentle touch as you collected herbs—it spoke all that was needed.

They felt—no, they knew your heart held no malice. So that's why they had no problem answering any question you asked.

Meanwhile, the men assigned to guard you grow bored from the lack of conflict. They began to talk to each other, attention drifting away from their assigned duty.

After all, you seemed perfectly safe surrounded by these serene beings.

Encouraged by your gentle demeanor, one of the Lotus-eaters hesitantly approach you. He's tall, a crown of woven leaves sitting on top of his curly-hair.

Shy and gentle eyes meet yours. A tranquil smile is etched on his face as he holds out a strange bulbous fruit within his cupped palms, its surface pulsating with an otherworldly glow.

You recognize it instantly for its legendary intoxicating properties, accepting the Lotus fruit with a grateful smile.

Knowing the dangers of the Lotus and its ability to induce a blissful forgetfulness, you carefully stow it away in your satchel.

The Lotus-eaters trill in content, their voices all speaking at once in a wave of pitches.

Straining to hear what they were saying, you slowly make out some of the words drifting through the air.

"...giant..." one voice rasped, low and conspiratorial. "...big as a mountain..." another chimed in.

You pause, a flicker of unease taking root in your stomach. 'Did I just hear that right?...'

"Excuse me," you began, your voice dropping to a hushed tone, "but I couldn't help but overhear something about a... giant?"

They eagerly nod, their excited chatter confirming your worst suspicions.

The Lotus-eater from earlier locks eyes with you. You sense a flicker of concern flash across his glazed eye before murky sereness takes place once more.

He spoke, voice deep and whimsy. "The one-eyed giant in the east? He owns most of the sheep, calls himself Polyphemus..."

'Giant...sheep...cave...east...that means—' when the pieces clicked in your mind, dread coiled in your gut. Odysseus and his men...trapped with a monstrous cyclops?

This was a disaster. You needed to get away, and fast.

Glancing at the warriors, still lost in their own world of boredom, a devious plan began to form in your mind.

You turn to the group of Lotus-eaters and lower your voice further.

"Listen," you began, urgency lacing your tone, "there's something really really important I need to get from the cave in the east."

You give a nudge towards the lounging duo guards. "Those men who came with me wouldn't understand. Plus they're not very nice...they've been nothing but mean and unhelpful!"

The Lotus-eaters exchanged glances. Even with their peaceful demeanor they could sense your worry.

"What do you want us to do?" the crowned Lotus-eater asked, his voice laced with alarm.

A large grin stretched across your face.

"Pretend to kidnap me!" you declared, barely able to contain a giggle. "Take me to the cave. There, I can handle the rest."

Their faces broke into wide smiles. Now this was a game they understood.

A Lotus-eater with eyes the color of the sky, clapped her hands in delight. "Oh that sounds fun!"

Before you could even blink, half of the group erupted in a playful ruckus of shouts and laughter; hurling small rocks branched leaves at the warriors.

The men sputtered in confusion as nearby plants and vines creeped down and snatched their weapons, leaving them flabbergasted and unarmed.

"What in Hades—" Alexander exclaims, eyes wide with confusion as his sword was yanked from his grasp by an unseen force.

Now for your part.

Taking a deep breath, you let out the most dramatic, exaggerated scream you could muster. "Help! Oh no! They are taking me! What ever shall I dooooo!"

The distracted guards turn in time to see the other half of the Lotus-eaters scoop you off the ground. You kicked your legs playfully, still crying out in mock distress. "No! Oh no! Let me go! Someone, save meeeeeee!"

As Lotus-eaters began moving to the cave, you grimace when realizing a little too late of your lack of fighting back and reaction to being taken. 'I hope they didn't see right through me. Probably should've acted a little more afraid.'

"H-hey!" You turn back to see Lycus' stressfully looking in your direction as he tries to dodge the sticks and stones, "They're kidnapping her!"

"We must save her!" Alexander chimed in, his panicked filled voice reaching your ears before you disappear into the foliage.

You blink in disbelief at their gullibility. 'Nevermind...'

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The further you were carried away from the clearing, the more the sounds of chaos faded into the background.

When you finally reached a safe distance, they gently set you down.

Once brushing off your clothes and looking around you immediately notice the Lotus-eaters brought you to the side of a mountain.

'Where's the cave...?' Confusion flickered across your at face as you try to understand why you where there instead.

Seeing your puzzled expression, the crowned-Lotus eater stepped forward with a gentle smile.

"We brought you to a secret passage," he explains softly, "It's a hidden way that leads to where the sheep are kept. The giant one may find you at the entrance, but this path is safe."

He gestures towards a cluster of branches and vines. Pushing them aside, he reveals a human-sized crack in the mountainside before letting dense foliage fall back over the cleverly concealed hole.

A warm smile spreading across your face at their concern and attempt for your safety. "Thank you!"

Leaning forward, you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on the forehead of the crowned-Lotus eater who's been your main communicator of the time.

His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet red as he giggled, his companions joining in with flushed faces and shy smiles of their own.

"Good luck," he whimsically mutters, still blushing.

With a nod, you turned towards the secret passageway. Your heart pounds as you carefully push aside the branch and vines and squeezed through the opening.

The rough stone walls loomed around you as distant noises faintly echo in the background.

Air growing cooler and damper with each step as you ventured deeper inside, it wasn't until then did the faint sounds became clearer—multiple voices talking and sounds of sheep scuffling around.

You pause at the edge of the cave, listening intently.

"Over here!" At the sound of Odysseus' commanding and calm voice, you immediately peek around the corner.

The first thing you're met with is an abundance of food and resources scattered all around: Jugs of wine stacked neatly against the walls, expensive cloths rich in color and texture, to even golden chalices and cups that gleamed in the torch-light cave.

And the sheep.

There were so many! So much, a few roaming ones were so close that you could feel the softness of their wool if you just reach out to tou—

Your nose scrunch up in disgust as a pungent wave of musk, grass, and a hint of manure hits you. 'Ugh...don't smell as cute as they look. That's for sure.'

Looking past the sheep, your body almost instinctively relaxed as you saw no signs of dead bodies or a murderous Cyclops.

Instead, you spotted the King of Ithaca standing alongside his 2nd of command and friend, onlooking as the other men got to work.

"Odysseus! Look at all this food...a-and all of these sheep!" Polites exclaims, you could even make out his bright smile all the way from here. "I can't believe it! This cave, it has all this for us to keep."

Eurylochus stood a few feet away, a begrudging nod of acceptance as he keep watch of the soldiers as they slaughter sheep and prepare to carry them to the ships. "I've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat. More than enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure. Looks too perfect, too good to be true." Odysseus seemed unconvinced. He shifted on his feet, glancing around as unease began seeping into his bones. "Why would the Lotus-eaters pass up on all this food?"

'Okay!' You take a step back, readying yourself for the potential scolding you most definitely were going to get for leaving the ship. 'You can do this...'

He sounds worried enough, so maybe he won't be too mad?

Taking a deep breath, you straighten you back and take a step out to greet the—

"WHO ARE YOU?" A deep, rumbling voice echoes through the cave, making everyone freeze in their tracks.

Popping your head back around the corner, the blood drains from your face once you see the Cyclops.

Odysseus steps up with a confident smile. "Hey there! We're just travelers." He waves to the giant and motion to the others. "We come in peace."

The cyclops says nothing at first. He's monstrous, frame towering above so high you could barely make out his features—a single eye glowing menacingly in the darkness as it glared down at the Spartan warriors.

"YOU KILLED MY SHEEP. MY FAVORITE SHEEP. WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DEAL A PAIN SO DEEP?"

You stumble back with a soft gasp and try to calm your racing heart. Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what to do.

"TIME TO DRINK—YOUR BLOOD OVER WHERE YOU STAND. YOUR LIFE NOW IS IN MY HAND."

Recalling the tales and stories of the cyclops' favored weapon (a massive club), you knew it was only a moment of time...

"BEFORE I'M DONE, YOU WILL LEARN THAT IT'S NOT SO FUN TO TAKE. YOU CAME TO MY HOME TO STEAL, BUT NOW YOU'LL BECOME MY MEAL."

Your hand flickered down to the weight in your satchel. With trembling fingers, you rummaged through it.

A Lotus fruit and bundle of dried Nepenthe and Poppy herbs are pulled out the bag, now in your hands. 'Please Gods....please. This has to work...'

"A TRADE, YOU SEE? TAKE FROM YOU LIKE YOU TOOK FROM ME."

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staticbleeding · 4 months ago

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⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars⋆。 °⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

The second part!! I was not expecting so much love on my first post on this account! I am so happy y'all enjoyed the first part! Enjoy this <3 warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2

1972 After the night at the pawn shop, Ford hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. It is starting to become painfully obvious. Especially to Ford's twin that has to hear all the midnight ramblings. Will he have to help his brother out, or will fate help Ford himself?

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Ford's POV

I wake up to Stan's snoring. Pushing my glasses onto my face, my feet touch the ground beneath me. I rub my eyes and start to regret not getting much sleep. Looking up at the clock on the bed side table, my heart drops. I'm gonna be late.

"Wake up Stanley. We are going to be late if we don't leave in like 30 minutes! I can't miss the first block", I say as I shake the sleeping man above me. His arm lays down off his bunk.

"Fuck off Sixer we can be a little bit late"

"Stanley it's not going to happen." I say as I stumble out of bed and pull my neatly folded clothes out of the dresser and begin pulling them on.

"Sorry you only get a chance to see your little lover in class man, but ain't no way I am getting up after you kept me awake all night". Stanley grumbles and rolls back over in his bed.

"Please Stanley.." I reluctantly beg my sleeping brother

With a loud groan Stanley jumps off the bed and starts putting on his clothes from the floor.

"Thank you". I sigh out and rush to the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast before we leave.

"Morning dears! You two slept in didn't you?" Ma cheerfully asks as her arms cradle the youngest of the Pines, Shermie.

"Yeah Ma," Stan runs out of our room yelling and leans down to plant kisses on our brother's small head, " Fordsy wouldn't let me get anymore. Couldn't miss out on seeing his little lover." His elbow pokes my side before grabbing his favorite snack.

"Stanford! You didn't tell me you have a little (girl/boyfriend/partner)! I am your mother!" Ma laughs out.

Looking down at my feet I stutter out, "Not exactly.."

"He's too.. s-scared to ask t-them out." Stan poorly attempts to mock me. A loud booming laugh comes out of his mouth.

"Quit it Stanley. I am sure your brother will get the courage soon. When can I meet them?" An overly excited Ma elbows me.

"We have to go Stan. Please. Ma, I haven't even really talked to them. I can't ask them out, let alone invite them over for dinner. Now we must leave." I say before kissing her on the cheek and grabbing Stan to pull out of the door.

Wishing for a quiet ride to school was nothing but fantasy with Stan. I couldn't do more than just stare out the window and wish the long rant of his would end quickly.

"I don't see why you don't just go up and ask them out Ford. They seem like a nice enough person to not throw a drink in your face for asking them out. I take a couple of classes with them. Pretty smart cookie too." My twin's words fall out of his mouth as if he is some expert in relationships.

"I can handle my own relationship ventures Stanley. Thank you but I really don't think they like me back. Hell why would they? I can't even look at them without becoming a mess and stumbling on my words. For all I know, they have a guy already." My hands find my face.

"Ford, they don't have a guy. Please. They ask me about you all the time in class. I may not have a good thing with relationships, but look Sixer, they would be stupid to not like you back," His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes, "but if they don't then more chicks for us when we set sail on the Stan O' War eh??". My stomach tightens at the thought of (Y/N) asking him about me. What did they want to know? Oh God what did Stan tell them?

As the car comes to a stop, I jump out and thank Stanley for the talk. Rushing to class, I find (Y/N) sitting in their usual seat doodling in their note book. I smile and wipe my hands on my pants. Walking over to our partnered seats, I feel my heart race quicken when they look up and smile that smile at me. My face warms quickly. My hand waves at them.

"Thought for a second you weren't gonna show Ford. Started to get worried Stan's driving finally killed you." God there is that smile of theirs.

"Haha.. no no. He just wouldn't get up." I stutter out as my stomach tightens realizing that they just said they worried about me.

"Well I will remember to yell at him later for almost making you late". They laugh and we sit in a comfortable silence.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" I swear I see a light blush appear on their face.

"Me?! Oh um.. working probably. Stan hates working the shop on the weekends". I say while looking down at my hands.

"Oh well that sucks. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe.." They are quickly interrupted by the teacher coming into class with a mumble of sorrys and excuses for being late.

Quickly they turn their focus back to the notebook. It's a little black notebook that has stars they are drawing on the cover. A blush coats their face.

Soon class ends and I watch as they hurry out. This time they turn around and smile at me. My heart skips. I find myself thinking of that one interaction the rest of the day. I walk out of the school and towards the bright red car parked out front. A smile plastered to my face. It fades seeing Stan outside the car holding a way too familiar notebook.

"Don't tell me you took their notebook Stanley! I get wanting to help me but that is insane!" I whisper scream out towards my brother.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Sixer. They left it in class today, but...here check the cover". He tosses the object towards me that I luckily catch. I open the cover and see their name and the words 'If lost call me!' with their number attached. A blush finds my face. Is this the chance I have been waiting for?

"Lets go man. You got a call to make". Stanley laughs and gets into the car.

The car ride home was filled with silence as I went over every possible outcome to this. They could think I was weird for using their number without permission, or ask why Stanley didn't call, or..

My thoughts are quickly stopped as Stan slams on the breaks and parks. I quietly get out of the car and go upstairs. I thank the stars that Stan is working the shop tonight.

I sit in the kitchen watching the phone as if it will grow legs and walk out. My palms sweat against the hard cardboard cover. Stanley walks in to the room whistling. He stares at me and sighs.

"Sixer...seriously? You still haven't called?" He leans across the counter and eyes the notebook.

"This is a really bad idea Stan. I can't do it. I will just hand it to them personally first thing Monday Morning" I sigh and start to stand up to leave. I freeze in my tracks hearing the rotary dial turn.

I whip around and see Stan putting in the numbers I have eyed now for hours.

"Stan wait! Don't you dare!" I run over and go to press the receiver before the call goes through. Too late. Stan laughs and hands me the phone. Walking away with a shit eating grin. I hear the voice I have imagined in my dreams countless times, the voice that causes my body to instantly react, oh God what am I going to say? Do I hang up? I feel like throwing up. My heartbeat I can hear in my ears.

"Hello?"

Too late

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Hahaha gotta love good ol' siblings!

#stanford x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls

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lukolabrainrot · 5 months ago

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London Thoughts and The Events Since

Alright, y'all have been requesting it, so here we go...

First, let's take a step into a little story shall we:

26 y/o boy living on his friend's couch trying to make it as an on-screen actor (but a sweet theater nerd at heart). Starts a new relationship with someone also into theater. It's homey and nice and going well. Boy is about to give up on breaking out of theater when BOOM now introducing Colin Bridgerton. Boy meets girl playing his romantic counterpart in the show and BOOM what is all this warmth he feels for her. Boy is in awe and just mesmerized by this girl. The boy loves this girl. But wait, the boy is a little bit younger than the girl, and the boy has a girlfriend. The boy wants to make things work with his girlfriend. He loves her. So the boy pushes those feelings down and becomes good friends with the girl, but they flirt with each other constantly, and others start picking up on an energy between them. The boy's girlfriend also starts picking up on the energy between her boyfriend and the girl. She knows what her boyfriend looks like when he is in love. The boy and the girl are going to finally be the leads in the show. It is a very exciting time, and the boy and girl get a lot closer. Things with the boy and his girlfriend start to sour for various reasons, and the girlfriend starts to get a little insecure and jealous of the girl. The boy tries to distance himself from the girl, but then has to redirect all his attention on the girl when they start filming their season. This is the breaking point with the boy and his girlfriend, and they part ways. The boy and the girl channel all of their pent up sexual chemistry and feelings into their characters, and they are having an amazing time. The dials on the flirting turn to 11, and they start toying with the idea of acting on their feelings in private. Eventually, they do. Their season wraps up, and they are having a great time with each other in private. Things are going well for a while, and they are playing sneaky little SM games with the fans to tease that they might be a little more than friends. However, the girl is pretty jaded about love, and has not prioritized that part of her life in a long time. The girl also really likes the boy, and doesn't want to mess anything up between them. The boy is ALL IN though, and wants something more than casual. The girl puts the breaks on the relationship, but there are a lot of deep feelings for each other that both of them have still not shared. The boy then goes on a HBS and casually dates people who seem totally different from the girl because the boy is a little heartbroken, and does not want to be reminded of the girl. The boy is also not emotionally available, because the boy and the girl never established firm boundaries on what their relationship will be moving forward. Eventually, the boy meets someone that he has fun with, and she gets along with his friends. However, the boy and the girl come back together to finish filming for their season, and ALL of the feelings come flooding back. But the boy is again (kind of) in a relationship, but BOOM the boy and the girl then have to spend the next 6 months promoting their season all over the world with all of these unresolved feelings...

Alright, I have to say, I had a lot of fun writing that 😂 Soooo, these are my theories on where L/N were at when the PR tour started in January. And then I already talked about my theories on what happened between them on the PR tour. Which leads us to London...

London

I will say this, I personally didn't observe any MAJOR changes in the nonverbal cues in how L/N were interacting with each other in London. Also, which was particularly telling to me, N still had the total heart eyes for L (you can tell because L has this habit of losing track of what he is saying when she is looking at him like that, which he did at least twice from what I remember during the various interviews they did in London). She also just had this happy glow about her like she was really at ease and content (which I also thought was interesting because they both must have been SOO tired by this point 🤔). HOWEVER, I did notice that L seemed a little more anxious than normal, and started using more distancing language and just in general seemed way less on-board with the shipping around L/N. And by the London red carpet, I realized something big was going on internally for L based on the body language and behavior. SOME of that I think is because red carpet events are just challenging for him in general (might have something to do with his anxiety and ADHD). I also think though that there was a lot more going on BTS during this period than we were privy to at the time. Here are my thoughts on what was going on during London (based off everything we know now):

Let's first remember the goldmine that was Ireland (which was JUST a few days prior). And I choose to believe N that L/N stayed the weekend with her family (which is still WILD to me that she admitted that on a public interview, because people are obviously going to read into that 🙃). And also WHYYY would she lie about that, when it's such a personal thing and had nothing to do with the show. I mean yes, maybeee she was lying, but it just doesn't really make sense to me that she would lie about THAT.

I started noticing near the last leg of the tour (by Toronto), N started to be a LOT more obvious about her feelings for L, and was making some pretty big slip-ups (and personally I observed that it seemed L was the one who was noticing and trying to correct for that and not let the WHOLE cat out of the bag). Now why was N being so obvious? SHE WAS REALLY HAPPY WITH HIM. And I think this is a lot newer for N because she has been so jaded about love and romance for such a long time. Even though I firmly believe L fell first, I think this was a lot more of a big deal for N because she hasn't had something like this in a long time (imo). So she was just really excited and giddy and having a hard time hiding it.

I think L/N had some conversations while they were in Ireland about how they were going to handle their public narrative moving forward, because like I mentioned in my A theories here, L was always going to have to start publicly distancing himself from N (REGARDLESS of what was actually going on with L/N BTS). And personally, I think that started by the promo in London, which I think was kind of jarring for the public that was following along considering L/N's behavior just a few days before in Ireland.

Therefore, I think a lot of this change in body language and responses from L was coming from the feelings he was having around this, as well as knowing that soon he would have to go public with A. I'm sure this was incredibly stressful, and as we know, L is not very subtle or good at lying/hiding his true feelings. However, I don't think this shift in L was coming from any type of shift in feelings between L/N. I think by London, L had become super self-conscious and in his head about everything, and I think he was just ready to be done with the promo because it was giving him a lot of anxiety. I think a lot of those feelings though were coming from wanting to protect NICOLA. I think L/N had a plan on how they were going to handle distancing in their public narrative after the London premiere, BUT I personally believe A hijacked that narrative...

To Papgate and Beyond

So, I think we all know the events of everything that has happened since the London premiere between L/N/A, and I still stand by my thoughts on the situation here. This is what I will add (again, these are just theories though based on the information we have now and what I have observed):

I am fairly certain that A was responsible for tipping the paps off for the hotel pics because she was upset and trying to reclaim some control on the situation. It was obvious that DM's objective was to sell a certain narrative, and they weren't really able to get that because I don't think L had any plan to publicly acknowledge her that night (mainly based on the damage control he had to do right after, and how L/N were interacting on SM following the event). The only person who benefited from those pics was A, and all the roads lead back to her being involved with DM in some type of way if you look at all the information we have now. Now was L's team involved with the first set of pap pics after the after party? Maybe, I just don't have enough information to say yes or no. I could see though that this may have been planned in advance on his side to start to publicly distance/seperate himself some form N. However, I don't really have any information to prove that, more just a feeling.

I think part of the understanding that L came to with A after Brazil was allowing her to get attention by publicly linking herself to him, regardless of the negative impact it may have on his career in the short-run. I think the reason it seems like he is just passively letting things happen around him related to SM and the press is because HE IS. After Papgate 2.0 and all the information that came out around that, it became clear to me that A has a larger goal to get her name out there THROUGH HIM, regardless of how it makes him look. And I think there is an understanding between L/A that he's just not going to ask questions and let her do what she wants and let the cards fall where they may for right now.

Now you might say, that doesn't make a lot of sense, why would he do that, it seems like kind of a poor choice career wise? Yes, I agree, this was not a great career move (and I think he underestimated HOW MUCH of an impact this was going to have). However, like I have said, it is my belief that L decided he was going to take the bullet for what (MAY) have occurred between him and N on the tour because he's trying to protect NICOLA's public image. I think he had a different plan though on how he was going to introduce A to the public, but once A hijacked that, I think he was kind of just stuck in a situation where he had to let A do what she wants because again, HE DOESN'T WANT A TO LEAK INFORMATION ABOUT HIM AND N.

If ANY of my theories around A that I have mentioned so far are true (and I am almost certain that SOME of them are), there is NO way L/A are doing great on an emotional level. Which is why the public optics around them have looked so strange starting from when she was publicly introduced at Papgate. I think it is also PARTICULARLY telling that even though the cat is out of the bag regarding A, his team will still not publicly confirm she is his girlfriend. Personally, I think that is intentional because it makes it easier to untangle himself more quietly from her in like 3-4 months (which I think is the plan). I could be wrong though of course, but something in my gut, based on everything I have seen, tells me that they aren't all happy and boo'd up like A the press wants us to think. There are just too many weird and shady things going on BTS.

Lastly, I think it was ALWAYS the plan for L/N to publicly disconnect after the London premiere. However, that doesn't really have anything to do with their private relationship. We only see a small sliver of their lives, and we have no way of knowing the full story BTS because we don't know them. I also think a lot of people are struggling with the fact that there was SO MUCH content of them for MONTHS, and now we have been cut off cold turkey. I don't personally find though the lack of content or SM interactions with each other currently as a direct indicator of the status of their relationship (ex: I don't think it's a direct indicator that they have ill feelings towards each other). Let's assume my theory is correct that the PR tour forced the two of them to address some deep feelings for each other that they had been having for a while, and those feelings were reciprocated. And then this newfound evolution in their relationship played out on a very public stage while L was publicly connected to someone else. That is a lot of pressure and incredibly stressful. I could not even imagine. Therefore, I think L/N are navigating some complicated things in private, but I don't think that it negates the positive emotional shift they had during the tour. I think they need to take this time out of the public eye to explore these complex, newfound feelings and developments in their relationship. I still don't think though that we would have seen what we did between L/N during the tour by Toronto if they weren't on the same page about seriously exploring their romantic feelings at some point in the near future. But those are just my thoughts...

Anywhooo, that concludes my L/N timeline theories 😊 Thanks for coming to my TedTalk! 😂

#just my opinion #lukola #lukola theories #timelines #nonverbal cues #london #shady deals

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n3ptoonz · 1 year ago

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Part 2 of MK1 men pushing the reader to a wall while kissing them, please? 😊

i mean i GUESS i can do that 🤭 since you asked so nicely! part one here

how liu kang, reiko, sub-zero, havik, johnny cage, scorpion, and geras go about pushing reader to the wall while kissing them

just know it may not show the long pauses i took while writing this but know IT HAPPENED!! THE THINGS I DO FOR YALL🫵🏾don't say i never did none😫

havik's regeneration mentioned. i've also been told havik looks like that on purpose so like, let's act like he can make his face go back to where it was for the sake of shits, giggles, and pandering XD

tags: @luna18night20 @momopad

warnings: suggestive, fluff elements, sphinx tried her best, there will not be a part 3 im sorry y'all 💔 BUT shao and kenshi are here

Liu Kang

Liu Kang was rarely ever rough with you. In fact, the only way he'd do it is if you either verbally say it's fine, or if he knows you're poking the bear just to get a reaction. And when you get a reaction...there's no going back. You've kissed with your back to the wall several times, and every time was gentle and loving and laced with care. However, if you've presented that you were that desperate for him to give you the attention you deserve, he will gladly be a little rougher in pushing you back with his lips on yours. Just be prepared for him to leave some handprints on your waist.

Reiko

Reiko is a warrior. Hardened by battle and discipline, so the way he kisses you usually starts off that way. He can't help it. Not only is it the way he was raised and what he was told a man is "supposed to be", but it also came with how his partners were to be treated. When it came to you his sense of duty and protection spiked every single time. So here you were, well within his unintentional bear hug as your back was against the wall. His kisses always started off like he was going away to war/fight (because he usually was) but he would eventually melt and become smoother because you're by his side.

Sub-Zero

Bi-Han, a truly complex character. I believe that whoever captures his heart will be the main obsession in his life. In this case, it is you. He constantly needs to be on you, around you, see you, hear you, you name it. He can't get enough of your lips and this is especially apparent the way he's almost always pushing you to the wall while kissing you. Can we blame him? He's a tall hunk of touch-starved and the only thing that will satiate that hunger is roughly making out with you every chance he gets all while still knowing how to treat you like a porcelain antique.

Havik

Havik...this guy. Even though I'm pretty sure it's not canon I still feel like he'd regenerate and degenerate for fun and for different purposes/occasions. For the sake of my sanity I can say I found him fine as hell before his face got fucked up, and so did you. But you don't mind him either way because you love his crazy ass. Allow me to set the scene: You say something snappy to get his attention and boom...he regenerates his facial wounds just to back you against the wall and shut you up with pure smugness and arrogance behind his kiss. But, this is what you wanted, nonetheless. And you'd do it again!

Johnny Cage

Who's to say Johnny Cage wouldn't try to get you in one of his films just so he could keep getting takes of him backing you to a wall and kissing you? For Elder God's sakes, he's the one who wrote the script! And of course it's something dramatic like him being a villain that captures the hero and tries to convince them to ditch their position to be with him. Dude would totally think he's Loki (did i say that bc i think it would be hot if Loki did that to me? ..don't worry about it!) He's for sure fucking up his takes on purpose and you know this, but you only pretend to be irritated and maybe even fuck up a few yourself.

Scorpion

Kuai Liang, the romantic this man is. Like Liu Kang, he's never rough with you. Except it would take a little more convincing to let him know it's fine for him to act on his feelings when he wants to. With him, his kisses are slow and gentle. They will always start off like that even if he has a hard day. All he wants is to hold you, but it's like whenever your back hits the wall a gear starts turning in his brain. The idea of you having nowhere to go and enjoying it? Not even an Elder God is pulling him from your embrace. He gets handsy and a lot more affectionate around this time; he's kissing your face, neck, and shoulders too, because why the hell not?

Geras

Geras is a special case. He's an immortal who has never experienced romantic love before. So naturally you will have to teach him some things and even point out things he has observed that can be taken as romantic love. But he's still a man who has seen a lot, so this guy knows what kissing is and how to kiss. Surely you didn't think this giant fine ass immortal being didn't know how to treat his partner? Crazy talk! Understand that when you introduce the classic wall kiss by showing him what to do, he's leaning in to kiss you as he lifts you in his arms with no effort to be found and there won't be kissing going on much longer!

a/n: thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed! collapses onto the ground

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kaisfruit · 1 year ago

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Hiiii loved your first first about kai!

Could I request a one shot or headcanon about each of the ninja and how they would pleasure a fem!reader pls?

How they pleasure you | All ninja x fem!reader headcanons

a/n: omg tysm for my first ask <3 this is like,,one of the few times ive ever written nsfw so!! i hope its okay :3 also im gonna leave out lloyd cuz ik technically he's an adult but idk it's still a bit weird imo warnings: nsfw under the cut (duh),cunnilingus (cole, zane, nya) , slight size kink mention in cole's part, degradation in kai's part, inappropriate usage of elemental ability (jay), umm thats all i can think of im srry if i missed anything ^^

Cole

Ugh idec he's a big guy. is that a collective hc that the whole fandom can agree on? i think so

def uses that size to his advantage when y'all are alone together

I'm talking like MANHANDLING

only if u ask tho cuz cmon we all know he is such a caring guy he would always take your wants and boundaries into account

okay, my horrible down bad size kink out of the way-

mans has a big appetite (wink wink)

goes down on you like no other. like, he treats your pussy like it's breakfast, lunch, dinner, AND DESSERT babes

there would be no breaks with him. i cant say this enough, but he is eating you out like a man starved

overstimulation bound to happen srry i dont make the rules

he would NOT ask for anything in return

this man is the biggest giver when it comes to sex oh my lorddd

you're in charge but like he is if you know what i mean?

like he does what he knows you love, but on his own terms

ur in the bed and he's just instantly pinning you down yk using that strength of his, spreading your legs as far as the can go, and boom diving in head first

srry i could fill up like 3 posts of just cole eating you out im that passionate abt this topic

Kai

Plays with your pleasure like it's a damn toy

This man is the biggest tease ever

Though, his teasing does lean a bit towards minor body worshipping bc he's just everywhere

Marking you up with hickeys wherever he can get his damn mouth

Hands? can barely keep track of their movements. One second they're playing with your tits the next he's two fingers deep in your pussy

Let's just say he's taking his time here just to make the actual sex feel absolutely amazing on your end

But rlly it gets him going seeing you all whiny beneath him at his never ending touches

it's a win-win if you think about it

THAT DAMN MOUTH.

kai is not the guy for u if ur not down for a bit of degradation because DAMN

he has to come second place to jay in the yapping awards bc he's always saying smthn during the act

he pays attention though. listens or feels your reactions to every filthy thing he whispers to you.

absolutely ruins u for anyone else. gl w this man yall <3

Zane

He is so damn PRECISE??

Like, how does he know exactly how to touch you in that spot in order to get that reaction?

LOVES i mean like absolutely LOVES fingering you

being able to watch you come undone on just his fingers? god it is everything to him

will also add his tongue into the mix bc even tho hes a robot he cannot get enough of ur taste

just so calculated w every movement

bro made sex into a science 😭😭

tells you how good you're doing for him, how perfect you look, etc.

loves praising you bc it's the honest truth of how he feels about you

tbh 50% of the pleasure he gives u is from the pure love u can feel with every slight touch, every kiss, everything

soft dom vibes iykwim

REFUSES to even try to get himself off if he hasnt attended to you first

also an extreme giver like

he would get rid of entire body parts if it meant making u feel even better during sex

okay thats hyperbole but like

this nindroid has so much love in his robot heart for u and he needs u to KNOWWWW

Nya

A GIRL'S GIRL U ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT IS

she has all of these boys BEAT when it comes to pleasuring u bc of her same gender advantage

her head will stay in between your legs until you are absolutely SCREAMING her name

that fact fills her with immense amounts of pride btw

i see her as giving u a good mix of gentle and rough touches that like come together to make the most intense feeling ever??? if that makes sense

she's so good w her mouth like,,,everywhere

her favorite place to have her mouth is on ur pussy ofc, but she could also give a vampire a run for their money with how attached to ur neck she is

marks litter your neck

she's so good at finding that one little sweet spot that makes your body squirm

tends to multitask as well

like if she's currently a knuckle deep in your hole then you can also probably find her mouth licking and sucking at one of your nipples

everything she does to you is just so confusing in the best way possible

Jay

everything with him is just so fast-paced

he barely gives you any time to catch your breath in between anything

just one thing after another with jay

it mostly comes from his overzealous nature

your body makes him feel like a kid in a candy store im not even gonna lie. there's so much he could be doing he doesn't even know where to start

constantly talking. what did you expect from the motormouth himself?

half of it's mumbles of how gorgeous or how breathtaking you are and the other half is just downright filthy

honestly that second part would be such a turn on cuz u wouldn't have expected it from jay

the first time he used his element on you it was an accident

he didn't even realized it happened at first. he felt you jolt at the sensation and his first instinct was to apologize instantly, but he never even had a chance as he felt how you clenched down on his fingers and the moan u let out would forever be ingrained in his brain

from that point on, he's constantly looking for the best opportunity to let the smallest current just give a little tingle to your skin

jay really knows how to keep things interesting <3

#ninjago x reader #ninjago #ninjago headcanons #kai x reader #jay walker x reader #nya x reader #cole x reader #zane x reader #zane julien #jay walker #nya smith #kai smith #cole brookstone #nya jiang #kai jiang #jay x reader #fem reader

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ttulipwritezz · 8 months ago

Text

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 4 - Kings And Queens

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 2k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, mentions of torture, abuse, walburga black, abandonment, mentions Of attempts to suicide, mental health issues, young parents.

A/n: So.....I'm updating after two months... nice. anyway, thanks sm for all the love and support y'all gave on this series, i promise i'll update sooner now lol. I put in lotta effort into this chapter, so i hope you enjoy. If you like this, please reblog and comment! <3 (p.s. the series isn't over lol it has a few more to go.)

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

A gasp echoes through the empty corridor.

Not yours…

Regulus's.

"He is my father?"

The words escape him with such hatred

"Dove i-"

Remus's eyes widened at the endearment.

"Professor Lupin is my father? Why didn't you ever tell me!?"

You can hear the anger in his voice. It makes you question yourself again.

Why does everyone think it’s your fault?

Regulus glances between you and Remus. You’re certain you see tears prick in the corners of his eyes. His face is red, much like his fathers.

While you collect your thoughts, he takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes abruptly, he repeats.

“Why didn’t you-”

His voice seems to choke up towards the end.

"I didn't deem it necessary Reg-"

Attempting to keep a level head you tried to explain yourself before your son cut you off.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!"

Now he’s done it.

"Regulus! You will not raise your voice at your mother!"

Your eyes go wide, you say the words with a booming voice.

The whole house seems to quake. You couldn't help the parts of your mother, walburga, that seeped into you. You were her daughter after all.

Regulus let out a sound close to a scoff and seemed to seethe with fury as he made his way up the stairs, his door made a creaking sound as if pushed by enormous force, pausing before lightly closing with click, as though he had stopped it before the slam came.

Realising that Remus was still in the room, you sighed before lifting your gaze up to meet his.

You open your mouth a couple times but no words seem to come out. You drop your gaze again.

Luckily for you, your name tumbles out of Remus's mouth before he asks a question.

“He…he doesn’t know?”

His voice was filled with hesitation. You could see his hand lift up towards you in your peripherals. He hesitated. Of course he did.

“I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t.”

Ironic huh? Your husband returns after fourteen years and all you’ve done today is try to explain yourself.

It’s all too overwhelming. You need to get away.

Before Remus could respond to you, your feet seemed to lead you back to the stairs.

You turn around once you hear your name again. He calls you that a lot…

“I could…talk to him, you know?”

His eyebrows are raised in what you can guess as hope, and his voice sounds scratchy.

Contemplating for a moment, you respond.

“Do what you please Lupin, I don’t care.”

A shake of your accompanies the words.

You tried to make yourself seem stern. But you aren’t.

And he knows that. He knows you better than you know yourself.

You feel a tug on your arm. Looking down at him from the stairs, a wave of nostalgia hits you. His hand feels warm on your arm. You can hear the wind blowing outside.

It feels…the same.

You walk in the great hall and make your way towards your friends. not before sparing a glance and smile towards the marauders, mainly remus.

Remus's mouth quirks up at the corner as he gives you a lopsided grin, his crooked teeth showing through.

This doesn't go unnoticed by Sirius, his brows furrow and he lets out a noise somewhat similar to a scoff

"My sister moony? really?" he drawls, turning his eyes to his plate, attention still on Remus, who startles and looks back to deny his proclamations.

"what? I just gave her a smile." His confusion makes the other two marauders burst out in laughter. Their boisterous laugh echoes through the great hall, drawing your attention.

With a glance shared with Remus, you let them be.

"I see how you look at her, it's obvious mate" Sirius grabs his attention again and begins to prepare to leave for his class.

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"you very well do" A bored expression adorns Sirius's face.

Remus furrows his brows before your retreating figure catches his attention.

Noticing his distraction, Sirius rolls his eyes and turns around to leave.

“Talk to her.” He mutters to Remus before he’s gone.

Much to Peter and James’s surprise Remus does indeed listen.

He follows you out of the Great hall, looks right and left before spotting you towards the stairs.

Taking long strides he makes his way over to you.

You hear your name once. It’s Remus.

His eyebrows are raised in what you can guess as hope.

You feel a tug on your arm. Your eyes meet his, that look right behind you at something.

Before you can form a word, he pulls you hard towards his chest.

A group of third years pass by, hitting your shoulder as they pass by, no doubt in a hurry to reach their first class.

Your face is hidden in Remus's chest long after you can no longer hear them.

As he opens his mouth to say something, a smile breaks out on your face, easing his nerves.

That was the best laugh you two had had all week.

Remus wordlessly pulls you into his chest.

Your arms automatically go to wrap around his middle. No matter how much you hate him right now, you can’t deny the comfort his warmth brings you.

You’ll worry later. That night you cry in his chest, for the first time in fourteen years.

Three knocks on Regulus’s door pulled him out of his trance, as he was busy Staring at the ceiling.

He glanced over at the door in anticipation.

“Can I come in?” Remus's voice echoes through the mostly empty room.

Most of regulus's belongings seemed to have not made their way into this house. Remus understands why.

With hesitation, Regulus nods His head once and Remus lets himself in.

“Can we talk…?” Remus was unsure, that much was evident.

Regulus nodded once more and moved his gaze across the room. Avoiding his fathers eyes Like the plague.

Remus cleared his throat before sitting down on the bed.

His throat bobbed up and down, As did the mattress. It made a squeaking noise, Filling in the silence that enveloped the room.

“We need to talk…” Uncertainty lingered in his voice.

With silence as Regulus’s only response, He continued.

“I-”

a sigh followed his pause

“I- uh- when you were little…welp- Not born yet. Heck I had no clue you were going to be born. I-”

Remus's throat felt dry, he was stammering, his words were jumbled. He had no idea what to say.

He only just got to know the kid.

So he started with the obvious.

“I…am your father-”

That earned him a snort of laughter from Regulus.

“Yeah, no shit.”

At Least He was making progress…?

“But I made a mistake, I left your mother when we were both at our worst, I can never forgive myself for that. And I don't expect her to either.”

Remus paused again. His Brows furrowed and eyes squinted as if he was choosing His next words carefully.

Regulus's feet tapped on the floor, impatience, Remus recognised that trait, must've gotten it from his mother.

Taking this as a sign to go on, he continued.

"I love her, kid....she's my everything "....

"Then why'd you leave her?"

Regulus spoke very little, but when he did, it was hard to miss.

"I didn't know she had you, my boy...if i'd known i wouldn't leave-"

"no.”

Remus's words halted, his brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

No?

“ I asked why you left her... not me. Merlin! You say you love her but left her alone. Didn't You?"

"i was scared and foolish a-and young-"

Remus tried to explain himself, to justify himself.

With each word he spoke, Regulus's blood seemed to boil.

"Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused her!? Mum wanted to kill herself, professor. She didn't want to live."

There was an urgency in Regulus's voice, like Remus would disappear again the moment he stopped talking.

You'd remember that night like it was yesterday. The stars were gleaming, the moon was full.

It made you want to give up. You were on the ledge when a small voice inside your head called out "stop, he needs you. regulus needs you" so you got down, and took a step back, your heart racing and thumping against your chest.

You remember, the bigger voice that screamed at you to let go "Godric! you coward. You coward. Do it. Just. Do. It." It said.

You backed off and fell to your knees, sobbing when the reality of it came crashing down.

You were twenty eight. Regulus was six. Only six.

And he was standing behind the balcony door, scared, nervous and relieved at the same time. He didn't want you gone, but he didn't want you to suffer.

He was just a boy. And he was hurt.

He was torn and you didn't know.

"I saw her, she wanted to give up. A part of me wanted her to give up, be free, I thought. Hell, I was just a kid. I didn't know anything"

Hot tears escaped Regulus's eyes, his hands going up to frantically wipe them away. When he failed, he just pressed his palms into them to try and stop the flood of oncoming tears.

Both shocked and ashamed by Regulus's words, Remus's first instinct was to cradle his son, comfort him, but Regulus Pushed his hands away and looked straight at him through red eyes.

"I hope you're better now...and I'll not hesitate to say this- she deserves better."

A few tears gathered on Remus's lash line, he blinked them away.

He had gotten good at that huh?

His mouth opened yet no words came out.

“You should go…”

Regulus said, at last, sensing Remus's speechlessness.

The bed creaked as he got up, taking slow and unsteady steps towards The door.

The doorknob felt cold in his hands, he thought.

"Hey, professor..."

Remus looked back.

"take care of mum...she's been through a lot"

With a nod, Remus exited the room. Leaving Regulus to go back to staring at his ceiling.

As he enters the hallway, his eyes fall onto a vase.

A vase with a singular flower in it, no doubt enchanted to stay fresh.

It looked familiar....too familiar.

Sitting on a picnic blanket, at a time you're certain is past your curfew, is less than ideal on a cold winter night.

But laying here with remus makes it all, so, very worth it.

Your attention from the stars is taken away for a moment as you feel a tug on your fingers.

Remus takes your hand into his, intertwines your fingers and gently places it above his chest, the place where you'd think his heart is.

"You know... you're the queen of my heart"

You just about melt into a puddle at the way he says it.

“And my body...and my soul" he adds.

You let out an airy chuckle before responding.

"You cheeky poet."

"Tortured poet." Remus attempts to correct you with faux irritation.

"Alright"

This is accompanied by another snicker.

"I'm serious!" Remus says, though he does mirror your smile.

You feign confusion as you reply.

“but you're Remus."

Remus just about whines at your pathetic joke with your brother's name as he leans back pushing one leg up and resting his free hand on it, before kissing the back of your intertwined fingers.

You stare up at him as he watches the sun set.

As you tighten your grip and lay your head on his shoulder, you think...

‘You too are the king of my heart, body, and soul.’

And that night you remember till today.

You picked that flower that night, he remembers.

And if you still have the flower, then he has hope.

He'll make it up to you, he thinks.

No matter how long it takes.

He knows he will.

Series taglist: @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa @lovesanimals0000 @deathbyramennoodles @deadgirlsrunning @lovelyypythoness @corvinalitbitina @joeytribbiani18 @mayusaatma @csifandom @kissmeunicornbaobei @takem3tothelakes @loser-with-wifi @roraxruw @empress-simps @callsignwidow @geeksareunique @0strawberrysorbet0 @deamus-liv General taglist: @desikudisworld @iamgayforyourmom1510

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spider-ghoul · 5 months ago

Note

ok so like im also one of the biggest leo valdez fan girls/boys and i would be so happy if someone wrote a leo valdez x aphrodite!reader ? it could be headcanons or a fic, idc <33

also ofc u dont have to if u dont want to !!

idc abt the plot either :p

Yessss

Lovely

Leo Valdez x Aphrodite!reader headcannons

Warnings: slight insecure leo? Nothing i can think of! Lmk if theres somthing i should add

-he met you on his first day of camp (maybe you showed him around and not will solace but it doesn't really matter)

-he Started flirting with you like... immediately.

-(are you kidding?? Ofc he did- look at you)

-and then, once y'all actually got to talking.. he really liked you

-so he talks to piper and immediately shes like

-'yep this is gonna happen.'

-and then Leo's in the Aphrodite cabin 24/7 hanging with Piper (trying to talk to you cough cough)

-your like definitely aware he likes you, its obvious, plus like Aphrodite kid- your pretty in tune with emotions

-y'all could start dating in a few different ways, but i think he would try n be really romantic about it-

-"i mean their mom is the love goddess! Of course I'm going all out-"

-maybe he tries to write something in the sand and take you to the beach or something (he has to do this at least twice before learning about tides)

-and boom! Together!

-leo Valdez is always so heart eyes coded!!!

-staring at you all. thE. TIME.

-if you mention this he'll just be like

-'well i went though all the trouble to make you mine soooo... I get a pass'

-and you'd roll you eyes and he'd be like...super proud of himself

-yk nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter?

-yeah, that's you two.

-but theres a few downsides cuz i cant just let him be happy

-your gorgeous. Even if your not what society deems 'attractive', everyone thinks you look amazing.

-guys and girls hit on you all the time- you can turn them down politely and all that but a few just keep trying

-leos not really jealous, just insecure.

-he's always worried that you'll start to see him like he sees himself... Which is NOT good

-but your always amazing at shutting that down

-"babes, you really think any of them? They're shallow. You're the only one for me, i promise."

-he's cried during that talk a few times

-but yall belong together so hard

-my mans also wants to hold your hand so bad

-like SO BAD

-all the time

-sleepovers in your cabin are mandatory

-plus sneaking out to bunker 9

-lots of pda

-neck kisses tee hee

-Idk how to end these

but ya! That's all i got, though i love this dynamic sm!! Feel free to request more!! Id love to do this w/ different godly parents/promts

#leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #pjo x reader #pjo fic

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peachhcs · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/766558720067043328/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs766163417530875904

EMMMMMMM! i know you love cliff hangers you always do them :(((( !!! but like still amazing holy crap

yes yes immediately yes. another part for sure!we need will and sam to finally talk

PART 7!!!! (yes there will be more and as many parts as y'all want this to be) here's also a small moment of will dropping eveyrthing for samy, but it will also be in the next part as well 😌

au masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

"hello?" will breathed.

"will?" a wave of relief washed through him when he heard samy's familar voice on the other end.

"samy? h-hi.." he was at a loss for words that he couldn't say anything other than hi despite the million questions running through his brain.

"h-hi. i-i'm sorry this is..i haven't called," samy started and will could hear the edge in her voice which made his heart break.

"let's go boys! on the ice!" coach warsofsky called into the locker room, his loud voice making the blonde cringe and curse to himself because this phone call really couldn't have happened at a worse time.

"shit, are you at practice right now? i-i'm sorry..i totally forgot..i can call back?" samy began when she heard his coach through the phone. shit.

will knew he needed to get on the ice or else warsofsky would make him do lines, but he couldn't just hang up now—not when he was finally hearing his girlfriend's voice after a day of not hearing anything. plus, he knew one of the reasons samy probably didn't call until now was because she didn't want to distract him from hockey.

"come on, pick it up! pick it up! we have a long practice ahead of us!" warsofsky boomed again as more of will's teammates filed out of the locker room.

fuck it.

will dashed out of the locker room through the other exit. he scrambled into the hallway where he nearly fell over from his skates still on and the blade cover hitting the tile. "no, no..i can talk. i promise. it's good to hear your voice..i-i was worried," will admitted softly, sinking onto the ground where he pulled his skates off.

"y-yeah. sorry. i'm sorry. i should've called. i don't know i didn't. i just–"

"are you okay? luke told me about your surgery," will cut the brunette off because even though he was upset that she didn't call him, he needed to make sure she was okay first and foremost.

"uh, yeah. i'm okay. just a tendon tear. nothing serious," samy swallowed, glad will couldn't see the anxiety clouding around her while she glanced around the hospital room and luke pretending not to listen.

"a tendon tear is kind of serious..you didn't get up off the field," will said more as a statement.

"i-i..yeah..but i'm fine now. i promise. it just kind of knocked the wind out of me, but i'm fine. i promise," the girl said like she was trying to prove it to herself too.

"i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried about you," his words made samy feel even guiltier, especially because of the soft tone he was using with her even though she expected him to be mad she didn't call sooner.

"i know. i'm sorry. i should've called," the youngest hughes admitted, head hanging low.

"why didn't you?" will asked, his voice still soft which made samy cringe.

"i just..i didn't wanna bother you knowing you're still getting settled into the team and the season..i didn't think it mattered because i'm fine now and it wasn't anything serious like i was dying or something," the brunette admitted again.

"of course it matters. you matter to me. you're my number one priority," his words brought a bright blush to her cheeks.

"you just have so much on your plate..i didn't wanna burden you. didn't wanna..put too much on you and make you run out or something.." samy mumbled the last part and will was pretty sure he felt his heart shatter into a million little pieces hearing her say that.

"you thought i was gonna..leave you again?" the crack in his voice hurt. a lot.

"i dunno..maybe? i didn't wanna.. be too much or something."

the silence engulfed them whole. will pulled a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words and samy bit back more tears threatening to escape.

"you know i'd never leave you again, right? i love you, samy. a lot more than i can even begin to explain," finally, will said something while trying to keep his voice from cracking even more.

"i know that."

"you're not a burden to me, i promise. you're the only thing i think about all the time so there's no way you'd be too much for me. if anything, i'm too much for you," his attempt at a small joke made both of them laugh.

"i love you, will. i'm really sorry i was scared to reach out. i guess it's just been hard..trusting again," the brunette mumbled a bit ashamedly and that broke will's heart again knowing samy was still trying to trust him.

before he could respond though, the door next to him burst open and he snapped his head up. macklin stared down at him looking wide-eyed. "there you are, smitty. you gotta get on the ice. coach is looking for you," the brunette rushed out and will knew he needed to go for real this time.

"yeah, okay. i'm on it. tell him i was in the bathroom," will said and macklin nodded as the two hurried back into the locker room.

"i'll call you again, okay? i love you," will said to samy still on the phone.

"yeah, okay. sorry for keeping you. i love you," and that was it. they hung up and the blonde quickly rushed to the rink before he got in even more trouble.

later, while will waited for macklin to finish up his shower, he was on his phone searching plane tickets and the fastest he could get out to michigan. samy's admission earlier broke his heart and he hated she still felt that way, so he wanted to do everything he could to prove to her that she did matter to him and she wasn't a burden.

he found the tickets that would get him out by tomorrow morning and into michigan that afternoon. he glanced up at his teammates and coach's office—he'd get killed if he just left without warning for a few days. he probably wouldn't even play.

but will needed to see samy. he needed to prove to her that he's drop everything for her no matter what.

so he bought the tickets in a few quick taps and they were in his email a second later.

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kyber-crystal · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! May I request a sequel to "my little love" for how jake responds to max calling him dad/daddy for the first time? or jake being cute with max and your shared kids (bc i KNOW y'all don't stop after the first one lol)

i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to this but HELL YEAH and i'm extra sorry i didn't post this for a while b/c i wasn't sure about how it turned out in general...anyways, i hope you enjoy : ')

my future || jake "hangman" seresin

summary: as written above! this is a sequel to the headcanon my little love, which i LOVED writing w my whole heart.

settling into married life was surprisingly not difficult. you'd already spent so much time around hangman that forever felt so comfortable

now everyone is so happy and in high spirits. but max is significantly happier than them all and it's so wholesome to see

rooster, or "fairy godmother" (max likes to call him the latter....yes...godmother, not godfather. you don't know why but it's so funny, especially when you watch rooster react to this), is always there to take care of your kiddo when you're busy

he let him sit in his F-14 and take a picture with him :)

and you're paranoid and worrying the whole time but rooster's like "relax, i got him" and he's super chill about it

"he's gonna be a pilot. better than you, even," you leaned over and gave your husband a look

"i think so!"

the kid lives and breathes top gun. and now that you've moved in with hangman, you're only a few minutes' walk from base, making it easy to go back and forth.

when you're working at the hard deck, penny sits him by the nearest booth with a milkshake and some old books and toys

if one of the uncles or phoenix wasn't busy, they'd come over to keep him entertained

and you know when hangman's done for the day when you see max break into his signature grin. you've noticed that you only really see it around him

so you're celebrating his fourth birthday today. it's insane, because he already speaks like a six year old (hangman says it's because you're also smart af. but, being the cocky lil shit he is, fanboy likes to take the credit for it. i mean, the guy majored in biochem, so he knows his stuff)

it's an off day for everyone, so they're able to come help decorate the place. you had the idea to surprise your son, so while everyone was getting ready, fanboy was with max by the beach, playing soccer. they'd come back in an hour and boom!

by the end of things, the hard deck doesn't look like the hard deck anymore. it looks like max's paradise—a kiddie version of top gun, you realize. your heart melts because 🥺🥺🥺

everyone hides when they hear fanboy and max coming in

and then you all jump up from your hiding spots and yell "SURPRISE" and he starts grinning again

and then the kid runs straight towards hangman, giggling in pure delight

"daddy!" he yells

you're all like wait wtf

did he just

say

hangman has to stop for a moment before picking him up. you can see him tearing up bc this is the first time max has ever said this

it's definitely really fulfilling to watch. when he was a baby and screamed and cried for hours at a time out of nowhere, you knew it wasn't always just from tiredness. or being hungry. or whatnot

the rest of the night you're all emotional af and max notices

"daddy why are you crying?"

there go the waterworks...more tears slip down jake's face 🥺😭

"because i'm happy!"

"people cry when they are sad! like when uncle fanboy loses to uncle payback!"

"HEY! kid, i thought you were on my side"

"so, i'm your dad now, huh?"

"forever and ever and ever and ever!"

how could you have gotten so lucky...

you're sitting here in the middle of the hard deck with your family. a family when realization hits. you had a loving husband, and a father, and a child that brightened up your world, and you couldn't have asked for anything more. you finally found someone that wanted forever and wasn't one to back away

now for some more cute moments post-birthday celebration

you take max to base every day right

and hangman will carry him on his shoulders all the time

if he's not done with his flight or workout or whatever, maverick takes his place

or his fairy godmother :)

as soon as he lands, max takes off at the speed of light and goes barreling towards him (how tf is the kid so FAST)

as hangman picks him up he looks at you and says "can we please have another kid. please"

"i want a sister! tell her, daddy!"

"see, the little man agrees"

sorry this ending was so awful i genuinely apologize...

tags, including people who may be interested: @totomoshi @sarcastic-sourwolf @sebastianstangirl01 @altheadarling @ellabellabus07 @hay-9105 @purelyfiction @93joons @criminalyetminimal @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @whatlovegattado @azari-anna @thelifeofthelifeofme @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @quivvyintheclouds @phoenixhalliwell @winteryoungie @mychoso @lt-b-rooster-bradshaw @jenny-riversmith @krisitzeneva @daethsticks @sithwidow @rosie-posie1313 @sadpetalsstuff @glossydi0r @i-simp-much @hay-9105 @meeeeees-stuff @sweetdayme4427 @unicornlover92 @intrxde @rhiannon-russo @dolce-clout @theghost1345 @baby-girl-e @greatbigshiningstar @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @newlibrary @cosm1cfae

sorry if this doesn't seem updated! some tags include ppl who were tagged in part 1 of this blurb mini-series. if you'd like to be added to the taglist, comment or add yourself to the tgm taglist here!

#top gun #top gun: maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #glen powell #top gun imagine #top gun fic #hangman fic #jake seresin x you #hangman x you

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sanguineterrain · 2 years ago

Text

if you give a spider a pastry... | miguel o'hara

Summary: Mango turnovers and a bloody Spider-Man. Basically, a regular night in New York.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x baker!gn!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: injured Miguel (he's okay dw), brief arguing. mostly fluff and sass. first meeting.

A/N: hi y'all! I watched ATSV yesterday and the Miguel brainrot has advanced <3 this is my first time including Spanish in a fic. Since Miguel is Mexican, I did research and tried to incorporate Mexican slang. It's not the responsibility of any reader to correct me—however, I appreciate corrections of the Spanish, if offered. :)

A/N 2: also, the timeline/universe details are vague in this one, but I pictured that the reader is not in Earth-2099.

If you enjoy this fic, please let me know through comments and reblogs ♡

the divider

Something is trying to crawl into your dumpster.

You've armed yourself accordingly (got a dust broom out of the closet) and after fifteen minutes of agonizing over whether you should go outside or go to bed, you have decided you are going to deal with the pesky raccoon once and for all. Or cat. Or opossum. Whatever. You just hope it doesn't have rabies.

Slowly, you edge open the back door of the kitchen to the bakery. You tap the outside railing a couple of times with your broom. Clink clink. There's no sound in response, so you step out a little further, hitting the broom bristles against the stairs.

"Ba-boom, ba-boom!" you shout into the alley. You'd read you're supposed to make noise to scare off raccoons. Or was it bears?

No, that doesn't make sense. When's the last time you saw a damn bear in New York?

You wait, heart rate climbing. There's no more noise, so you open the door all the way and quickly shut it behind you, gripping the broom with both hands. You jump out into the open.

The dumpster is covered, which is wildly embarrassing for you. However, right next to the dumpster is a giant dude in what you assume is a Spider-Man costume, though it's not like the one you've seen.

His stomach is covered in blood.

"Holy fuck," you say, dropping the broom. "Shit. Fuck! Oh my—uh, s-stay right there, don't move."

"Sound advice," he says dryly, startling you. "I was going to do a little dance for you."

Okay. Blood loss has different effects on people. You can't take it personally; this dude has half his guts in the alley.

You grit your teeth and pull out your phone, shakily typing in your passcode. As soon as you do, a glowing orange rope—web?—shoots out and yanks your phone right out of your hand.

"No," he grits out. "Todo bien."

"Everything is not fine. What is wrong with you, dude? You're bleeding out!"

"I'm not bleeding out, dude; most of the blood isn't mine."

"Yeah, that's definitely not true," you say. "Look, I don't know what would possess a person to come out here ten o'clock at night and do… whatever this is, but I'm not letting someone die next to my dumpster. Give me my phone!"

"No," he says, hissing in pain as he shifts his weight. "You're overreacting and hysterical."

"Hysterical?"

You can't see his face but you know he's rolling his eyes.

"Can you relax?" he asks. "Chale, I'm not itching to bleed out next to your dumpster. I'll be on my way as soon as my body repairs itself enough for me to move."

"You're literally insane, man. Absolutely bonkers. You've lost your Silly String."

"Silly String…" he echoes.

You strut up to him and try to snatch your phone. He dodges you a couple of times, then swats at you like a cat.

"Enough," he snaps. "Don't make me web you."

"Web me? Okay, you know what? Screw you, man. I'm not gonna call anybody. Bleed out for all I care. Keep the goddamn phone, I'll get a new one. Christ."

You pick up your broom and stomp up the stairs, yanking open the back door and slamming it behind you. Fucking New Yorkers. First rule of living here: mind your business! You try to be a good Samaritan and get verbally accosted by Spider-Man on steroids. Typical.

You fume for about two full minutes, glaring angrily at your shelf of baking trays. Then you hear the bane of your existence groan in pain outside. All the anger leaves you.

You can't just ignore him. Accelerated healing or not, he's vulnerable. What if someone tries to attack him?

This is probably the worst idea you've ever had. You walk to the fridge anyway and pull out two mango turnovers. You nuke them in the microwave, which physically pains you to do, but you're in a time crunch, so.

You open the door gently this time and step outside.

"Spider-Man?" you ask quietly.

You hear him sigh.

"¿Qué quieres?"

You go down the stairs and walk so you're in view again. He hasn't moved from his position. Your phone rests on his uninjured thigh.

"Sorry for yelling at you," you say.

He stiffens, then looks away.

"You don't need to apologize. I… Soy un cabrón."

"Yeah," you say, walking over and sitting across from him. "Little bit."

He sniffs the air, his suit's eyes narrowing at you. You set the paper plate with the pastry on his thigh and take your phone back.

"What's this?"

"It's a mango turnover," you say. "I've been experimenting this week."

"Why is it on my leg?"

"What, did you think I was gonna feed you?"

"Take it," he orders. "I don't want it."

"Are you allergic? I have other flavors."

"The flavor is not the problem."

You bite into your own pastry. You puff out air, trying to cool it down.

"Ih hah," you tell him through a mouthful.

"Oh, really?" he deadpans.

You swallow. "I'm trying to extend an olive branch here, Spider-Man. I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"Why did you come back out?" he asks exasperatedly.

"I didn't want you to be alone," you say. "What if someone tries to pull off your mask and ruin your secret identity? That's, like, totally devastating in the superhero world, right?"

"And what exactly would you do if they did? Throw a pastry at them? Whack them with your broom?"

"I'm wily," you say, biting into your pastry. "You should eat it before it gets cold."

"No."

"They came out pretty good, if I do say so. Priya—she's my other baker—had her doubts, and I did too, honestly. But this seems like a success."

He remains stoic, likely glaring at you. You finish your pastry and flick the crumbs off your mouth.

"You'd be doing me a favor, taste testing," you add. "Gotta make sure it suits other people's palettes."

"I already did you a favor by getting rid of the people who did this," he says, gesturing to the blood.

Your mouth pinches unhappily.

"I wish you'd let me take you to the hospital."

"It's unnecessary. I'll be fine soon."

"You're nuts, Opossum-Man."

"Opossum-Man?" he asks, sounding comically offended. "I'm clearly a spider."

"I think that's subjective," you say. "But I'm only calling you that because I thought there was an opossum in my dumpster. Turns out it was you."

"That's ridiculous," he says. "Wait, what do you mean it's subjective? I'm obviously Spider-Man."

"Well, what are the pointy things under your eyes?" you ask. "Those throw me off. They look like fangs. I thought you were supposed to be a spider. Those are, like, bat features."

"Spiders do have fangs," he says with a huff. "How do you think they incapacitate their prey?"

"I think you're giving the New York public school system way too much credit here, dude. I didn't learn all that. We had a unit about bees. How come there's no Bee-Man?"

He scoffs. "What would that even entail? A guy who flies around pollinating the city?"

You giggle.

"You're kinda funny, Spider-Fangs."

"I do stand-up in my spare time. Speaking of…"

He pushes himself to stand with a quiet grunt. You stand with him, arm outstretched in case he needs help. Not that he'd take your help. But still.

He's a big guy. You'd figured as much by his giant shoulders, but standing in front of him really puts it into perspective. You have to crane your head to see his face.

He hands you the plate. You pull the saddest pout you can muster.

"You're not even gonna taste it?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay," you mumble, defeatedly taking the plate.

He looks at you for a long moment, then tilts his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mierda—okay, fine. One bite."

You bounce on your toes as he takes the turnover and lifts his mask up to his nose. You're transfixed by his exposed skin, the dark freckle on his jaw, his full bottom lip. Wow.

He barely opens his mouth, biting the corner. He chews, swallows, and pulls down his mask. You miss the view immediately.

"It's good," he says.

"Holy crap, was that a compliment? Did Spider-Man call my pastry good?"

"I take it back."

"You can't," you inform him cheerily. "I'm going to put it on my advertisements. Opossum-Man approved! Sales will skyrocket."

He walks away, limping only slightly. Well, you suppose that's better than how he was half an hour ago.

"Good night!" you call after him.

He pauses, then turns.

"How are you getting home?" he asks.

"Oh, I live right above," you say, pointing behind you. "No worries."

He nods.

"Órale. Don't visit uptown for a while."

You salute. "You got it, Opossum."

He flings a web string and then he's gone. It's only then that you look at the plate and realize he took the pastry with him. You can't help your little grin.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse x you #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction

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chvoswxtch · 2 years ago

Text

invasion of privacy

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank catches you with something you shouldn't have, and your world gets turned upside down in more ways than one.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence

word count: 2.1k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoyed the nice & light hearted last chapter, because we are kicking up the drama from here on out. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“What’s this?”

“Hm?”

You were in the process of proofreading through your latest article one more time before submitting it to Ellison, and your attention was focused solely on the mountainous layers of black text on the screen in front of you.

“This.”

Frank’s voice rang harshly in your ears, and the shift from his previous gentle inquisitive tone jarred you to the point of whiplash and broke your concentration completely. Turning to face him in puzzlement, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized what he was holding.

The file with his name on it.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size, and they hesitantly raised to meet Frank’s. The warm melted chocolate of his irises had darkened considerably with anger, and you could see a ring of betrayal burning around his pupils.

“I don’t know.”

Frank let out a dry scoff when you blurted your words out, his jaw clenching so tight you swore you could hear the way his teeth ground together from across the room. There was a chaotic frenzy disrupting his usual calm demeanor as he looked through the contents of the file. Every single page he furiously flipped through was another drop of gasoline trickling towards an unavoidable explosion.

Whatever was inside that file, it turned Frank into a man you didn’t recognize.

You quickly rose from your chair to take the stand in your own defense, hands outstretched in an olive branch towards him.

“Frank, I swear. I haven’t looked at it-”

“Bullshit!”

The catastrophic boom of Frank’s voice echoing around your office startled you, and the four walls suddenly felt a lot thinner with his massive fuming frame taking up a majority of the space. His reaction had anxiety racing through your bloodstream, but your anger always managed to come out on top.

“I haven’t. I didn’t go looking for that, Frank. Someone left it on my desk-”

“When.”

A sudden wash of guilt doused the unjustified irritation you felt. Frank stared you down from across the room, the flimsy material of the file succumbing to the strength of his hand, his features a concoction of fury and treachery. You had to avert your iniquitous gaze to confess.

“After the gala.”

Frank blew out a deep exhale through his nose, incredulity blowing his eyes wide open as he chuckled humorlessly.

“That was a fuckin’ month ago.”

“I never opened it. I forgot I even had it-”

“You expect me to believe that? You been carryin’ this goddamn thing in your purse every fuckin’ day for a month now, and you ain’t read it? You just forgot it was there? Just cause I don’t have a fancy ass degree don’t make me fuckin’ stupid. You fuckin’ reporters, you’ll do fuckin’ anythin’, yeah?”

Frank’s voice got louder and louder with each word, like warning claps of thunder that signaled how close you were to an inevitable downpour. He was nearly yelling by the time his heavy boots brought him right in front of you, and you found yourself staring down the eye of a violent hurricane.

For the first time since you had met Frank, you were afraid of him.

Even though you felt frozen in place, your fingers shook violently with trepidation at your sides. You couldn’t look away from the storm brewing hastily in his eyes. You just hoped he could see past his own wrath to find the truth in yours.

“I didn’t read it because I thought it would be an invasion of privacy.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed into accusatory slits, his nostrils flaring to accommodate his furious exhales. His voice had a sharp edge to it that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

“Invasion of privacy. That’s real goddamn rich.”

There was nothing you could do. He had all the evidence for a conviction. You had been caught at the scene of the crime, and all you could do was beg for a lenient sentence.

“Frank-”

At that moment, your door swung open to reveal a very distressed looking Billy Russo. When his lips parted to speak, he suddenly paused, as if the tension lingering thick in the room was as visible as a dense fog, and his eyes flickered between you and Frank before settling on you almost in an expression of concern.

“Sorry if this is a bad time, but we gotta talk.”

A sense of relief immediately rushed through you at Billy’s intrusion, grateful to not be alone in your small office with an incredibly pissed off Frank Castle. Billy didn’t miss the way you practically sprinted towards him without another look at Frank.

“We can talk in the conference room if you-”

“Actually, I need to talk to both of you.”

Billy looked directly over your head to stare at Frank. There was a look on his face that you didn’t know him well enough to read, but as you glanced over your shoulder at Frank, you noticed that his face was void of any anger and instead had morphed into confusion. When you looked back in Billy’s direction, he was staring down at you with clear remorse carved onto his sharp features.

“There ain’t no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna get right to it. Homeland is pullin’ your detail.”

All of the oxygen in your lungs felt like it had been knocked completely out with that one sentence. You gaped at Billy, and his lips tugged downwards in a pitiful frown.

“I’m sorry-”

“What?”

You could hear Frank stalking over towards the both of you, and the evident skepticism and irritation that layered his gruff voice. But his and Billy’s voices sounded muffled in your ears, as if your head was submerged underwater.

“Look, I wasn’t happy about it, alright? They don’t think she’s a prime target anymore-”

“The hell she ain’t. Those assholes-”

“Found a new target. More high profile. Cause of that and the fact that they ain’t threatened her in over a month, they’re pullin’ her detail and it’s gettin’ reassigned.”

“To who, Bill?”

Billy’s eyes flickered to meet yours, and you could see the apprehension shining in them along with a sliver of guilt.

“Who is it, Billy?”

The clear defeat in your quiet voice made him sigh, and his lips parted as he stared down at you in contrite-ridden sympathy, as if he was trying to figure out how to soften the blow of whatever was about to come next.

“Steven Price.”

Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt at that moment. While you were navigating your disbelief and confusion, Frank was battling to control his already unraveling vexation.

“What?”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin' me.”

Billy glanced between you and Frank when you spoke at the same time. He completely ignored Frank’s outburst as he brought his hand up to gently place on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze in a gesture of comfort. He let out another sigh of exasperation while he gazed down at you.

“Homeland wants to keep this under wraps, they ain’t even lettin’ it hit the media, but you deserve an explanation. This is off the record. Price’s office got a threat letter with demands forty eight hours ago, and yesterday a vehicle that was supposed to be takin’ him to a debate was blown up. Lucky for him, he wasn’t in it. Local news was told to report that it wasn’t a terrorist attack, just a faulty engine or somethin’. They’re tryin’ to avoid more mass panic. But, Homeland is takin’ it extra seriously-”

“Because of his family name and position.”

There was complete detachment in your voice as the reality of the situation sank in. Steven was more valuable to them. He was the one they thought was worth protecting. No one would bat an eye if a lowly journalist was murdered by a terrorist group that she antagonized. But a man that came from one of the oldest wealthy families in New York that had connections all over the world and was currently running a political campaign? That would be front page news.

“You really wanna protect that asshole?”

Billy dropped his hand from your shoulder to turn and face Frank, clearly annoyed by his inquisition.

“Of course I don’t. But Homeland-”

“Fuck Homeland. It’s your company, Bill. You can say no.”

Frank’s voice had an eerie calmness to it, but it was convoluted with reminiscent indignation and the faintest sting of an allegation.

“You think I didn’t try? I don’t think you understand the situation I’m bein’ put in right now, Frank.”

Billy and Frank appeared to be in some kind of silent standoff as they stared each other down. Billy wore his mixed emotions of annoyance and dubiety clearly on his face, and it translated into the way his fingers twitched at his sides. The slight furrow of his brows showed that he was upset by Frank’s unspoken challenge that he wasn’t fully utilizing his power like he had said.

Frank on the other hand was completely stoic. The only giveaway he had about this whole situation at all was the glow of rage still burning in his eyes.

“When’s this happenin’?”

The placation in Frank’s gruff voice bothered you. It sounded like he was routinely asking Billy about the weather, not when you were gonna be thrown to the wolves to fend for yourself.

Billy straightened his shoulders as he stared at Frank for a moment, pursing his lips into a thin line.

“Already has. I came to collect you and the others.”

You suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous with the way your heart had plummeted into the pit of your stomach.

This was really happening.

“Listen, darlin’-”

“It’s not your fault, Billy.”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at either of them. Not that Frank probably would even look at you. He hadn’t so much as glanced at you in the slightest since Billy walked through that door. A deep sigh sounded beside you as an expensive sterling silver tie clip came into view. Billy braced his hands on your shoulders and dipped his head to catch your eye line. There was an expression of severity on his face, like you had seen when he held you in this exact same way in front of the elevators the night of the gala.

“I’m gonna figure somethin’ out for you, alright? I’m not gonna leave you hangin’. Just…sit tight. Try not to cause any trouble.”

Billy attempted to flash you a charming smile, but it didn’t even meet the edges of his lips. After giving him a small nod, he stared at you for another minute with an unreadable expression this time before giving your shoulders one final squeeze and taking a step back. He momentarily glanced over at Frank.

“I’ll be waitin’ out front.”

Billy granted you one final look of condolence before leaving you alone with Frank.

When you turned to face him, he wasn’t even looking at you. He was staring at your office door that Billy had just left through with a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. He almost looked completely indifferent, but there was an aura of suspicion staining that callousness. You swore you heard every tick of the clock snapping clearly in your ears for the next sixty seconds before he finally shifted his attention to you.

Frank’s face was completely blank. There wasn’t a shade of an emotion that you could detect. His features weren’t twisted up in any kind of clues. He looked just as impassive as he had the first day that you had met him. Seeing him revert to that state after months of progression in your complicated relationship hurt worse than any heartbreak you had ever experienced.

He was staring at you like you were a stranger on the street.

Frank wordlessly folded up the file and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, his vacant eyes staring into your pleading gaze. At this point, you wished he would go back to yelling at you. You would take something, anything other than this tortuous silent treatment.

He wouldn’t actually leave you like that, would he? He said he wouldn’t. He swore he wouldn’t. Frank would always be there for you, to keep you safe. That’s what he had promised.

Right?

You waited for him to say something. You stared at him in desperate expectancy for him to do something to fix this nightmare. You held your breath for him to make the same promise that Billy had, to figure something out.

But as quietly as Frank had come into your life, he was now slipping out silently.

And just like that, he was gone.

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed@fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe

#frank castle #billy russo #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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cinewhore · 2 years ago

Text

The Only Exception - extended cut

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x fem!reader - Carmen Berzatto & fem!reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxic family dynamics, smut 18+ (groping, male receiving oral, penetration, unprotected sex, facial cumshot), canon death, angst and fluff.

A/N: I wrote something a tad bit sadder and decided not to post it because the episode (s2 ep 6) was bad enough but why not? Dedicated to my lovely friend @spiderispunk. No beta cause I don’t wanna. Ignore all spelling errors. Hope y'all enjoy. Credits to the gif creator.

Nothing ever goes smoothly with the Berzatto’s.

Why you thought this holiday dinner was going to be any different was beyond any rational comprehension.

Trying not to be a complete klutz and ruin the side dish you’ve been working on the entire day, you delicately balance it in your left hand while adjusting your scarf tighter around your neck with your right. Putting a pep in your step, you round the corner from where you parked, spotting the stoop instantly.

It was a rare sighting to see all three of the Berzatto siblings together. With Carmy being away at culinary school, Mikey doing his own thing with the restaurant and Natalie living her life, one person always missed the other. It warmed your heart to see just how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t show it in a normal or healthy way.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mikey’s voice booms over the light traffic passing by, handing Carmy the cigarette he was puffing on.

You crack a smile, despite it feeling like your lips were stuck together due to the cold weather. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. Fuckin’ cat had my keys.”

“How many times did I tell you to get rid of the cat?” Mikey leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, forcing him to peck you on the cheek instead.

“C’mon, baby.” he drawls, throwing you a bashful smile.

You huff out a sigh, lowering your voice. “You know I hate the smoking.”

Mikey nods, face fading into something serious before vanishing. “I know you do. You didn’t bring fish, did you?”

Side-stepping the tall Berzatto, you get pulled into a hug by Natalie, followed by Carmen.

“Hello, gorgeous! It’s so good to see you!” Natalie kisses you on both cheeks before making the move to grab the dish out of your hands. You pull back, shooting her a look.

“Nat, please. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” you watch as her bottom lip quivers a bit. You steal a glance at Carmy, who just shakes his head..

“Fuck. How bad is it?” you gaze at the disheveled trio, awaiting an answer.

Finally, Mikey breaks the silence.

“It’s at a five. Six, at best.”

You lick your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. “That’s not too bad, right?”

“Right.” Carmy agrees, with Natalie humming in agreement.

“Just don’t fucking ask if she’s doing ok.” Mikey glimpses at his sister, placing hand on your lower back to guide you into the house.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, plastering a smile on your face before entering the shit show.

You’d only been there an hour and you were called the wrong name three times, objectified, cursed at and now Fak was trying to get you to put up five hundred dollars for baseball cards.

Listening with great intent, nodding at all the right times, twirling the wine in glass in your hands desperately wanting to get another refill had your social energy spent.

“We could make you a lot of money, cousin.” Fak goes on, nudging his brother for support.

“Yeah-yeah! Think about what you could do with fifteen hundred bucks! Cold hard cash!” Theodore chimes in.

“Wow, no, yeah this-this sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.” you murmur. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved Fak. His personality was infectious, you’ve never seen him get overly angry despite the other guys giving him shit and he genuinely goes out of his way to help everyone. Back when you first started dating Mikey and moved apartments in the city, Fak volunteered to make sure your place was in tiptoe shape and refused payment.

Just then Steve, Michelle’s husband, passes by and you seize your opportunity.

“Steve! How are you?” you beckon him over, scooting over on the tiny couch so he could sit beside you.

“Ah, yes. Mikey’s girl who we aren’t sure how he managed to snag. Good to see you again.”

You brush off his comment with a tired smile, gesturing to Fak and his brother. “So, these guys have a proposition for you, right?”

You nod enthusiastically with them, giving Fak a secret wink.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Do you like baseball cards, Steve?”

“On that note,” you stand up and maneuver yourself out the nook. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Leave you gentlemen to handle business.”

Mocking a military salute, you dash towards the kitchen bypassing other members of the family.

Donna flurries around the kitchen, shouting instructions to no one in particular. You didn’t greet her as soon as you came in, knowing how she gets around this time of the year. To be honest, you were sure that she didn’t exactly like you.

“Donna, my goodness! You look wonderful.” you lay the complement on sweetly, smiling brightly. If you don’t wilt in her presence, she wouldn’t be able to smell the fear on you.

Donna swivels her head to look at you, cigarette dangling from her lipstick smeared lips. Eyes lined in thick mascara, her disapproving expression ripples through you. You smile wider.

“I brought over a little casserole. I figured it would compliment the fish nicely.”

Shifting to face you fully, Donna crosses her arms. “Casserole? What casserole?”

You point to the tin foiled dish. “That one. Mikey brought in, did he not tell you?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, just like he told me about him breaking things off with what’s her name.”

“Anna.” you mutter, swallowing the lump that quietly made its way up your throat.

“Yeah, Anna.” Donna turns back to the task at hand, haphazardly swinging a knife about. “I liked her better.”

Forgoing your much desired glass of wine, you stalk out of the kitchen. On the outside looking in, the Berzatto’s appeared to be your average family. The warm glow of the lights shining out into the frost covered sidewalks invited you in all those years ago and once inside, you then realized why people were so hesitant to accept invites or why Mikey refused to bring up his past.

You didn’t have this growing up. Your family life was much quieter, mom and dad both kept to themselves. Distant cousins never visited for the holidays and you were an only child so there weren’t any siblings to fall back on.

It was boring.

Drove you crazy.

So when the Berzatto’s welcomed you in with open arms (well, some of them) you threw yourselves to the wolves willingly. It helped you grow a thick skin, talk over people and man handle the biggest guys in the room. For that, you were thankful.

A hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, dragging you away from everyone and up the stairs. Mikey is headstrong in his quest to get you alone, not caring to see if you were keeping up the pace. You both stagger inside his room, the door shut soundly behind you, followed by the lock turning.

Mikey doesn’t give you a second to react, mouth leaving open tongued kisses along your jaw and collarbone, hands working at tugging up your skirt.

“Mikey, baby, baby, wait-” you plead, backing up to create space between the two of you.

He flops onto the bed, hands on his knees, fingers raking through his hair again and again.

You’re careful as you sit next to him, scratching your own fingers along the center of his back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” is all he utters.

“Bullshit. Talk to me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, you get it. The party continues below you both, profanities and insults flying like it's nobody's business. It was too much. For Mikey, Camry, anyone. The more time you spent with his family, the more you realized why Carmen never came back to visit.

Why Mikey feels trapped.

“I know.” you whisper against his shoulder, mouthing pressing in tiny kisses. You lift his head up with both of your hands, cradling his face gingerly. The tiredness exudes for nearly every crevice, eye bags worn and solidified. You use your thumb to smooth out his forehead, laughing softly when he wrinkles it more.

“You’ll always have me, Berzatto.”

“I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

You tut. “That’s not true. You’ve always had me. From the moment you sold me that greasy, sloppy sandwich down at The Beef. I was a goner.”

Mikey chuckles, leaning into your hands more. “I got you something.”

Your eyes go wide, brows forming a skeptical look. “Is that so?”

Mikey flickers his eyes down to his pants and you scoff.

“Wow, Michael. Are you gifting me your penis? Again? I must’ve been too nice this year.” you gently slap his face is mock anger.

“Haha,” he deadpans. “Try my pockets, detective wiseass.”

You let go of his face and rummage through his pants pocket, producing a ball of torn tissue paper, kept together by a single piece of tape. Confused but curious, you unwrap the gift, facing dropping as your eyes find his.

The tissue tumbles to the ground, revealing a necklace. At the bottom of it dangled a charm of…cheese?

“I remember the first day you came into the shop. Like a goddamn bat outta hell. Never seen anything like it. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and asked for, um, what was it?”

“Havarti-”

That’s right! Fuckin’ havarti cheese! What the hell even is that?”

“How do you own a sandwich shop and not provide a variety of cheeses, I don’t understand it.”

Mikey gawks at you. “Babe, we’re called The Beef. Not the cheese. But you wanna know what I did?”

You encourage him to finish, as if you didn’t know the rest of the story.

“I told you to wait and-and I was gonna go check in the back. I booked it out of the back door, all the way down to Malik’s corner store and bought the most expensive cheese he had. I rush back to the shop and guess what?”

“You made the sandwich.”

Mikey’s face cracks into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I made the goddamn sandwich. Brought it out to you myself. Told you that we didn’t serve grilled cheese but for you, I’d make an exception.”

Your eyes well over in tears and you blink rapidly to keep them from falling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, ya know.”

“You’re telling me all I had to do was buy you some cheese to get in your pants? Hot damn.”

You playfully shove Mikey back against the bed, crawling over to straddle him. “Well, it worked after a while, didn’t it?”

Mikey thrusts upwards, growing erection sliding against your damp underwear.

“It sure did.”

He grabs the back of your neck, surging up to slot his mouth against yours. You aren’t delicate in the way you claw at him, nails digging into his tanned flesh. Pushing up your skirt, Mikey palms your ass, stroking it before landing a hard smack against it. You moan into his neck, biting down.

“Perkiest ass I’ve ever seen, baby, shit.” Mikey groans, voice an octave deeper.

“And it’s yours. All yours.”

Mikey secures the back of your head as he flips the two of you over, pushing you down on your stomach. You do the rest of the work for him, sticking your ass up, and curving your back into an arch.

Mikey readily pulls down the zipper of his pants, hands readjusting his briefs until he is able to free himself. Spitting obscenely in his palm, Mikeuy shoves your panties to the side and rubs his silvia across your slickness. You buck back into him, whimpering when he graces you with a lone finger to loosen you up. You whine, and wiggle your ass some more, ready to receive all that he was going to give you.

“Gonna give my baby what she wants, don’t you worry.” Mikey purrs, aligning himself to enter you. He slides in easily, the strained sigh as he fully situates him inside you never ceases to make you wetter.

You pull yourself up so that you were resting on your hands, peeking over your shoulder to catch a gaze at Mikey as you being to fuck him. He was enthralled at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you, the way you were able to handle him without saying a single word.

He would love to take his time and thoroughly explore your cunt but time is of the essence. Wrapping his right hand around your neck once again, he yanks you up into a deeper arch, left hand on your hip in a deathgrip. He meets your thrusts with his own, dropping his left leg down on the floor to gain some balance.

Between the familial bickering creeping up the stairs, all that could be heard was the squelching of your pussy and the labored breathing of Mikey, muffled praises spurring you on further.

He slaps your ass again and you tighten around him, eyes rolling to the top of your head as you attempt to hold onto his arms for dear life.

“Mikey, oh fucking god, baby you’re gonna make me come so hard. Please, please, please!”

He answers you by sticking his fingers in your mouth and you automatically clamp down on them, sucking and gagging until spit dribbles down the side of your mouth.

Mikey picks up speed and the line breaks as you reach your peak, legs stiffening as you rear back against Mikey. He continues to fuck, albeit at a slower tempo, humming as you spasm against him.

“That’s my girl, my favorite fucking girl. Where do you want mine, huh? Tell me where you want it.”

He removes his fingers and lets them trail down to tease and pick at your hardened nipples that now poke through your shirt.

“I wanna taste. Want it in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” Mikey lets you go and you catch yourself before you fall completely face first into the bed.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You do as you're told, scurrying to position yourself on your knees in front of Mikey. Mouth open and head tilted back, you let a hand caress your breast as the other slithers up his thigh.

Mikey is affectionate as he goes to grab the back of your head, other hand tirelessly stroking his cock. A vein pops out of forehead as he grunts, a few milky droplets coating your face, before steady ropes accompany it. A few of them land in your mouth and you swallow them all eagerly.

Mikey tries to calm his breathing, watching you with hooded eyes as you lick at the tip of his cock, cleaning up the remnants of yourself off of him. You take him down all the way to the shaft for shits and giggles, pulling off of him with a low pop.

“Goddamn devil.”

You wink, swiping at the mess you could feel dripping on your face. Mikey helps to clean you up, both fixing each other’s clothes to appear less wrinkled. Seemingly ok with your appearance, you start to head downstairs but Mikey stops you.

He steps behind you, lifting up the necklace he got you. He fastens it, walking to your front to admire it.

You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth for a kiss.

“It’s you and me, Berzatto.”

“You and me.”

Inhaling heavily, you open the door to reenter the Berzatto family chaos, a new found confidence lighting your path.

That was roughly four years ago.

Or maybe five.

You stopped counting.

You had been going about your day as usual, still getting settled into your new apartment. Boston was a whole new monster to wrangle with but you managed to get by so far. It didn’t feel like home but you figured over time, it would. A lie that spun around and around in your head until it sounded like a foreign language.

The invitation throws you off guard as you thumb through your mail, ignoring the pile of bills for the yellow envelope sealed with a stamp of a bear.

Your hands twitch a little as you instantly drop everything else you were holding onto the overly crowded dining table. You don’t think twice as you rip the stamp off, clawing to get the card out.

Missing you. The Bear opens soon, I’d love to have you come out for a pre-opening. Hoping that you’re doing well in Boston, we have so much to catch up on. My number is still the same.

See you soon - Sugar

P.s. - Fak says hi.

The bottom of the card details the information for the restaurant and the date of the opening. You bite at your lip, glancing around your apartment. It was a dream: your new job, the neighborhood, the coffee shop down the block with the best matcha latte. It was quiet, not complicated and yours. All yours.

Going home, back to the place you ran from seemed stupid. Everything would unravel and you’d fall to pieces again but this time no one would be there to put you back together.

Reaching across the mess, you fish out your laptop. This was a reunion worth unraveling for.

You’re late. So fucking late. It wasn’t your fault though! The plane got delayed and then there was the traffic and you smelled like an airport and desperation so you rushed to the hotel to change. One thing always leads to another but it didn’t matter anymore because you were stepping out of the taxi, smoothing down your coat and anxiously fixing your hair.

You take powerful strides as you approach the restaurant, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe it. What used to be The Beef, the place you spent the majority of your time after work fucking with Richie until Mikey got off, was gone. It was now replaced with a groomed, streamlined, chic replica that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the rest of the block.

A car horn sounds and you’re brought back to reality, invitation gripped tightly in your hand. You mumble one last prep talk to yourself before pushing the door open.

A wave of amber and vanilla hit your nostrils first, eyes picking out the candles that were placed around the dining area. The place wasn’t packed but you knew this was because you were late and not because it wasn’t good. If you knew anything about Carmen and his career, it was that the fucker knew how to make good food. He just didn’t know that he did.

A woman clad in all black smiles as she walks up to you, a slight quizzical look on her face.

“Forgive me ma’am but I’m afraid that this is a private event. The restaurant will open to the public soon.”

You shake your head, waving the letter in front of her face. “Oh, I was, uh, invited. I’m so sorry I’m late, my plane-”

Richie strides out of the kitchen, stopping in his tracks once he sees you.

“Holy fucking shit.”

You couldn’t help the amused grin that crosses your face, taking in the new and improved Richie. You hate to admit it but he looks good. Tapered cut, fitted black suit, not too heavy on the cologne and simple accessories to match? What the hell did you miss?

“Holy fucking shit.” you whisper, voice morphing into a high pitched squeal as Richie hugs you, lifting you off the ground.

Upon putting you down, you stand back, motioning wildly at Richie’s figure.

“Oh my god! Are you in a cult? Did they brainwash you? Will the real Richie please stand up.” you clap in front of Richie’s face a few times, to which he swats away.

“A real fucking comedian, huh?” He pulls you into a hug again, inhaling your scent.

“How have you been, cousin?”

Richie pulls away, leading you to a fully set table. You thank him as he pulls out your seat, taking the one across from you. He shrugs at the question, gaze traveling around the restaurant.

“Been busy. Bustin’ my balls to keep this place in tiptop shape.”

You nod, momentarily distracted by a server filling up your wine glass. You pick it up and take a whiff, eyebrow raised. A classic white. Your favorite.

“This is really nice, like, I expected something but this,” you take a moment. “This is something else entirely.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Richie admires you as you sip your wine and continue to look around, getting washed over in nostalgia. He remembers the good days. The days were Mikey was happy, the two of you bantering while making dinner for him, Eva and Tiffany. You were making sure he stayed the course, keeping him sober. Then, for whatever reason he just couldn’t fucking understand, it collapsed. He lost everything he never really had in the first place.

Natalie barges from the back of the house a few seconds after, screaming at the top of her lungs the second she sees you. You both speak over each other, holding each other tightly and taking turns petting Natalie’s stomach.

“Oh my god, Nat! You’re going to be a mom!” you exclaim, hands pressed on the sides of your face.

Natalie sighs, tears falling. “I’m gonna be a mom!”

“I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Neither can I. It just sort of happened.”

You nod, plopping back down in your seat while Richie gets out of his, helping Natalie sit in it instead.

“Cousin, I’m gonna get your order sorted. I’ll be right back.” Richie announces, planting a kiss on Sugar’s head before disappearing to the kitchen.

“It’s been like four years?” you say, gauging Sugar’s expression. You didn’t mean for her to get caught up in your mess once you moved away but she was the only constant reminder of Chicago that you had and you were thankful. The eldest and only daughter syndrome really popped off with her.

It’s amazing how easy you’re able to flow back in conversation with her. You catch up with each other’s lives, tiny bits of gossip filling the cracks. You avoid bringing up Donna, not wanting to tamper Natalie’s mood as she happily chatters about the nursery. Dinner feels like old times and before you realize it, you were scraping your finger across the dessert plate to savor the sweet tanginess of the course.

“Where’s Carmy? I’d like to congratulate the man of the hour.” you wipe your hands with your napkin, polishing off your wine.

Sugar rocks her jaw, eyes cast downwards. You knew the two of them had a somewhat strained relationship but you figured since she decided to work with Carmy, things had settled between the two of them.

“He should be in the kitchen cleaning or probably out back smoking a cigarette. Filthy.”

You hum, sliding out from behind the table. You peck Sugar on the cheek and stroll through the kitchen, murmuring hello’s to those you haven’t seen in a while.

Sugar’s assumptions are true, Carmy perched on the concrete near the dumpster. He does a double take when he sees you but doesn’t get up from his spot.

You’re careful as you sit next to him and upon seeing that you’re wearing a dress underneath your coat he panics, trying to stop you before it’s too late.

“Hey, no, you don’t need to sit down here, we can go back inside-”

“Carmen, sit down. Please.”

Carmen nods and joins you. You dig around your coat pocket for your vape, taking a long drag before exhaling.

You two smoke in a comfortable silence for a while. Carmen was your favorite in this regard, knowing that around him you didn’t have to say anything. You could just shut the fuck up and enjoy each others presence.

Carmy nudges his knee alongside yours. “You think he would’ve liked this?”

You ponder on it a little, taking another hit from your pen. “You definitely would’ve fought over the menu. And where is the poster?”

“What poster?”

“The poster, Carmen.”

“What fucking poster? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“The goddamn baseball poster! You know the one. It was in the office before, I think.”

“Oh, that one. Yeah, Sydney fell through the wall, tore a hole in it.”

You scoff, taken aback by Carmy’s nonchalant response. “Fell through a wall?”

“Yes but don’t worry. Richie taped it back together.”

“Fuck the poster, Carmy, how is Sydney?”

Carmen shrugs. “She’s good. Makes a good partner.”

You nod, staring back at the restaurant. “She managed to pull this shit out of your ass, color me impressed.”

Another beat.

“Hey,” you move your legs so that you are leaning against Carmy, huddling against his shoulder. “I want to apologize.”

Carmy takes the bait. “For what?”

“For leaving. I just ran. Didn’t say goodbye, didn’t look back. You didn’t deserve that. None of you did. Mikey fucking ruined me. I felt selfish though, you know? Cause I was just someone he dated but you, Sugar, Richie..y’all were his blood.”

You feel Carmy take a deep breath, head drifting over to the side so that it rests on top of yours. “You don’t need to apologize for that. You were his fucking heart, he talked about you all the time it was annoying as shit. Plus, everybody runs.”

“You didn’t.”

Carmy glares at the restaurant. “Not sure I can agree with you on that.”

“After Mikey, I just felt like I failed, you know? I tried so hard. I did. I thought we made it over the rough parts but just like that, he slipped. I couldn’t pick him up anymore.” you pluck at your legs, getting stuck in your thoughts.

“You didn’t fail him.” Carmy mumbles.

“Neither did you.”

For once, Carmy lets the words settle in his chest, soothing the frightened side of him that constantly tells him he’s not good enough. It was temporary, he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from indulging in the sentiment.

“You could stay, you know. I could take care of you.”

Camry’s offer catches you off guard and you untangle yourself from him to look in his eyes. Behind them you could see the Carmy you once knew. It hurt, knowing that he was still torturing himself over the loss of Mikey, grappling with the opening of his restaurant. So much pressure on one person who swore that he couldn’t feel it and wouldn’t dare let anyone help him carry the load.

You smooth his hair back, giving him a sad smile.

“I think it’s time I took care of myself, Carmen. Boston is good. I’m gonna be ok. You need to take care of you, man. Someone’s gotta make sure Richie doesn’t strangle himself with his new ties.”

Carmen laughs and even flashes teeth.

“By the way, what is up with that? Fucker looks like he belongs with the secret service.”

“He was mad about the forks.”

You give a half shrug. “Forks. Yup, got it.”

You weren’t sure what was going to become of The Bear but you knew that if Carmy kept his head on straight, he’d get through all the shit life put him through.

He was a fucking Berzatto.

They never went down without a fight. And god help those who fucked with bears.

#Michael berzatto x reader #Michael berzatto x fem reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto & reader #carmen berzatto & fem reader #carmy berzatto & fem reader

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dizzy-after-dark · 1 year ago

Text

Cauterized | Steve Rogers

BOOM MIC DROP: SMUT FOR THE END OF THE YEAR! Y'all didn't think I would not post once this year, did you. Well, here it is. I TRIED! Mwah; see you in 2024!

Tags: Angst (not really but yeah), SMUT, fluff

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)

Notes: UHHHHH 18+ BUCKOS; this is a continuation of Ignorant, which is the first part and angsty as FUCK but a personal fave of mine if I do say so myself; been really thinking about finishing my requests from over a year ago for Dinner At Dizzy's on my other account, @dizzydancingdreamer (masterlist linked if you're feeling peckish)

Warnings (what to expect, ig): oral (f recieving), fingering, sex (???), uhhhm lack of descriptive writing from a rusty author, sappiness, swearing, bad metaphors, shower sex, alcohol consumption (BARELY), size kink, over-use of the word "Stevie"

Word Count: 4.6k

She pushes the door closed, turning the shower on lazily. Her muscles ache as she twists the knob all the way to the left. Somewhere, sometime she was told about cauterization. You can seal wounds closed with fire— forcibly fuse the skin back together. She has no cuts. Nothing to fuse. And only hot water. However, maybe stepping into the scalding stream might fix the part of her brain that keeps replaying it all, over and over.

Baby I—

If anything, it might numb her. She would take that too right now. Hence the bottle on the counter, partially drunk and already open. She takes the first swig, the liquid like fuel to the inferno raging in her stomach, burning the rest of her in the process. The taste is acrid— she’s never been much of a drinker. She just wants to forget it all. Setting it down with a clunk, she strips out of grimey shirt, letting it puddle at her feet.

Looking at the material, which at one point was a stark white but will now forever be a dingy gray, she laughs. Not really but, yeah, kind of— one of those half amused huffs, anyway. A pity laugh, for the state of her life. That shirt is practically trash. Even if she had the time, energy, or resources to wash it, there’s no way it’ll ever be the same.

She should just throw it out.

Is she even talking about the shirt anymore?

She kicks it into the corner, hands falling to the button of her jeans, swollen knuckles screaming as she fails a few times to push the little metal circle through the loop.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, and to the ghosts, and the spider she saw in the corner when she came in but didn’t have the heart to make the latter as well.

She’s already made too many ghosts.

“I, uh, I can help?”

None of those ghosts have ever answered before, though.

Whirling around, fists balling in front of her face, she readies herself in less than a breaths time to send said ghost straight back to the grave—

“Woah, easy there, baby—”

Only to find Steve, his baby blues wide and a tad panicked but his hand nevertheless peeking through the crack of the door, reaching for her. Mind glazing over with confusion and, well, a fair bit of something russian and label-less, she blinks up at him and the damn door. She closed that— she remembers closing it… right?

Her eyes flick down and the fire in her belly kindles a little more.

“Are you kidding me?” She groans, the exhaustion an unwelcome guest in the cavern of her chest.

His boot, right there in the doorway, holding the measly wooden traitor open. She never heard the damn click. Didn’t even bother to listen for it. Rookie mistake, honestly. She can’t even be mad, really.

“Please just let me help.” Steve pushes past the door, both arms now extended towards her, but he doesn’t touch her yet.

He’s waiting. She stays silent. Partly because she has no idea what to say— or what she wants— and partly because he hates it. He absolutely, agonizingly hates when she gives him the silent treatment. She watches his jaw tick, lips pressing together until they go white, and there’s a sick part of her that relishes in the cool satisfaction rushing down her spine.

You made me like this.

But there’s also a part of her that mourns with him when he clears his throat, crystal eyes flooding over, liquid and glassy, and lowers his arms slightly. Not all the way. He’s hopeful, maybe. America’s sweetheart is always hopeful, that’s one of the things she fell in love with him for.

That’s still Steve— her Steve.

“I know—” Steve swallows, “I messed up. I just— you’re hurt, baby. Lemme’ help.”

She huffs— why is it so fucking complicated? Why can’t they just be normal?

She is hurt. Nothing needs cauterizing but there’s no denying her mottled skin, blue-ish under the crappy motel bathroom lights. Her hands throb, joints screaming at her— when she turns to the mirror, she almost gags at the slight bald patch behind her right ear— fuck, that one had really stung. Absolutely ridiculous the way some people fight these days.

Her silence is deafening.

She wants to sob. It’s right there, in the hollow of her throat— she wants to scream. Maybe not at him but in general. She used to live in a penthouse, with all her friends, and the love of her life. Now what? She used to get hurt like this back then too but now it feels purposeless— what are they even doing this for if they have nothing. Have no one. It made sense when she still had him.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror— disappearing a bit into fogged up glass but there regardless— she still has him. Kind of. But she still doesn’t say anything when she turns back to face him. The frown carved into her face feels vile— deep and disgusting and entirely real— but she can’t make it go away. She can’t stop the sniffle, either. Why can’t she just tell him she misses him?

“Fuck.”

It’s mumbled under his breath. The Captain America, standing in some rundown wreck of a place off some lonely highway, is swearing. Because of her. Is this hell? It feels like hell.

But, no, it can’t be, because his hands are so, so gentle as they cup her cheeks, thumbs softly dancing over the bruises, half assessing, half trying. Trying to do what, she doesn’t know. Wipe them away? Commit them to memory? She leans into his touch regardless, conceding ever so slightly. She won’t say it, but he can help. There isn’t a universe in which she would truly deny him.

The first tear that falls isn’t hers, but his, landing on her forehead right before he buries his face in her hair, wrapping those supersoldier arms around her, trying and, well, failing not to crush her in the process. The tenderness in her broken body is worth it, though, because he smells like home, even if tinged with gunpowder and war.

“I am so sorry—” he whispers, heartbeat erratic under her ear, chest heaving for breath— “I am so sorry I brought this on you. You’re hurt and it’s my fault.”

Complicated. She fists his t-shirt as hard as she can— fists in until her hands go numb. It’s not fair how complicated it has to be for them.

Steve didn’t throw her into the fight, didn’t slam his fist into her eye, or rip her hair out by the handful. Steve didn’t even make her come with him when he left; that was entirely her choice. But he did lose his mind a little bit. Power tripped a little too hard. Focused so much on keeping them all safe that he missed the part where he was just supposed to hug her— and that’s what sucked most— but he is now, right?

That has to count for something?

He pulls back and her fingers tighten, steeling, tensing. He can’t go, even if she isn’t sure what they are anymore.

The agony in his eyes when he draws the line from her balled fists holding on for dear fucking life to her own, misty gaze is indescribable. “Baby I don’t know how to fix this. I want to, I—” he clears his throat again and her frown carves even further into her skin, eyebrows drawing together— “I want to so fucking bad.”

He plants his forehead against hers and it aches, the warmth of his skin. “I don’t want to make it worse. I need you to tell me how to help.”

There’s a stinging in her throat where the words simply don’t manifest. What the fuck is she supposed to say? Nothing, at all, really, because she doesn’t even know how to fix her and she’s not mad so there’s nothing to fix… but isn’t there? Isn’t there something between them that desperately needs mending? Isn’t she mad?

Is it anger?

Or is it something much more primal.

No, there are no words she can tell him. She could show him, though. Maybe that will work.

Letting his shirt go, she watches the breath catch in his chest, stuck and frantic. She knows that feeling well— that icy desperation to keep holding on no matter what. But she’s only grabbing his hands, not leaving him, and he’ll see that soon so she continues to drag him towards the stupid, little button that her useless fingers couldn’t seem to undo. In hindsight, maybe they were just waiting for him.

Realizing, his forehead is off hers quickly, eyes seeking hers. “What? I don’t—” She flattens his palms against her stomach, engulfing the button, and he breathes the last word out— “understand.”

Her brows raise, cheeks still on fire but now also burning— yes you do.

“Are you sure?” He asks but there’s a little click— the same one she hadn’t heard earlier— as his boot clad foot kicks the door properly shut, and she’s pretty sure he knows just how sure she is.

All it takes is her thumbs on his, prodding them towards her arch nemesis— damn you, Levi jeans— and the soldier is moving, not rough in his quick actions, but determined. The button is no match for Steve Rogers on a regular day, but today? Now that he has a goal? A starting place? The button may as well have disintegrated under his fingers.

Her own hands fly to his shoulders, clinging to him as he tugs the blasted jeans off her legs, trying the best she can not to topple over with the sheer force of him. Material pooling at her feet, his palms smooth so slowly back up her now bare legs, rising goosebumps in their wake. She hasn’t been touched in ages— she feels kind of like an animal waking up from hibernation, disorientated and hungry.

Grabbing at her hips suddenly, her ass is on the cool countertop before she even has the chance to get dizzy. Spreading her thighs with his own, he works on her bra next— this faded, hole ridden thing that if she wasn’t so engulfed in searing, licking desire, she’d probably be embarrassed about. But it’s gone so soon that she doesn’t have a chance and replaced instead with two, bulky hands that entirely engulf her breasts.

They squeeze her skillfully— with purpose. Thumbs swiping delicious circles around her nipples, flicking this way and that, exactly how he knows she likes it— exactly the way that should have her as a mewling heap in his hold. But she’s not— she’s contained, even as her very skin thrums alive with anticipation. Is this revenge or is it just fucking complicated?

She can’t decide so instead she bites the moan clawing at her throat into small enough pieces to swallow, all the while tuning into something dark that sparks in his ever watchful gaze.

She’s caught— he gets it now.

“Really, baby?” He muses, palming her, squeezing just hard enough to give the touch a slight bite. His tone has her feeling like a deer in his headlights— like a freight train is barrelling directly at her and there’s nowhere to go— and she squeezes her thighs around him, welcoming the collision. “You think I won’t work for it?”

She only blinks at him. Once… twice…

Her panties are dropped somewhere into the abyss, long forgotten with the rest of her clothes, and his knees thud heavily against the tiled floor. Replacing his body, his head now hovers right in front of a different button, golden hair tickling her sensitive skin as he pulls her legs over his thick shoulders. His skin is warm but not as much as his balmy breath which hits her clit, teasing her into a mess, hands curling around the edge of the counter.

Come on, Steve.

But, no, he doesn’t give in to her just yet. First, he turns to her inner thigh, sucking her skin into his mouth with bruising pressure before letting it go with a pop. He peers up— nothing. Moving to the other one, he whispers quick kisses over her sex but never lingers, only biting into her flesh once more once across her mound, teeth almost teasing a whimper from her this time but no, she’s not budging.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t driving her crazy. Inside, she screams— she craves. C’mon baby just give it to me. Outwardly, her hands drunkenly find his hair, tugging at his soft locks. Now, now, now she chants furiously.

He unseals his lips from her thigh, peering up, less dangerous and back to being her ever hopeful boyfriend— is her her boyf— He kisses her folds, spongy lips lingering a moment, rendering her blank and feverish. Angelic— he’s angelic. From under his long lashes he all but begs her, his dark eyes starving and wanting, but his hands are so soft on her hips, massaging deep into her. It’s this mixture of puppy dog pleading and a knowing of sorts— he knows she’s going to cave eventually.

How does he do that?

“Words? Please?”

She only pouts and, again, the switch flips. “Fine.”

The word is punctuated with the warm, wet stripe he licks up her center, flicking his tongue languidly over her clit. For as rushed as he’d started this mission, he’s truly never been one to speed through his meals, preferring instead to devour her slowly— expertly— tasting her thoroughly like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile her body pulses, teetering dangerously already on the knife-sharp edge of too much and too little as he masterfully carves her out.

Her hands, which had moments ago tried to pull him closer, now use his hair as handles to keep herself from toppling off the counter when he slides her closer to him, burying his face fully into her heat. Heels digging into his back, she watches the spot where his shirt rides up intently, consumed not only by the harsh sucking on her clit but also the tanned, muscled skin peeking out and then disappearing below his own jeans, taunting her. Why hadn’t she taken it off him first?

She doesn’t have time to think much more about it though because he’s ravenous and she may as well be ice cream, sweet and sticky, melting all over him, dripping down the sides of his face and fingers as they begin prodding against her. They tease, pushing into her but not quite far enough— hard enough.

His gaze on her is overpowering— it’s deliberate.

“Y’know,” he speaks against her, the vibrations making her tense, “you can just tell me what you want ‘and I'll do it.”

Her mouth is like sandpaper— her brain, uncooperative. This push and pull is becoming lethal, the next few pokes of his tongue honey slow and spine jolting. Please— she wants to beg. She’s so empty. So, so, achingly empty. Would his fingers even be enough? At this point, it’s as though he would need to crawl into her very chest to fill her up the way she needs to be. How could her words even convey something so needy?

“Anything, baby. Whatever you want.”

They can’t, so they don’t, but for the sounds she refuses to make, he doubles in his own, moaning his frustrations right against her. If he can’t make her say anything, he damn sure is going to make her do something. That’s probably why he finally caves, pushing his fingers in to the hilt, and she was stupid to think they couldn’t fill her, the slight burn of them not at all foreign but definitely intense.

As they bury themselves in her over and over and over again, she bucks against his hand, chasing the start of a little ball of electricity growing in the pit of her stomach, getting higher and higher with every twist of his fingers. Combined with the incessant flick of his tongue— she’s a goner. Stifling the moan, her teeth find home in her lip, biting so hard her mouth gains a slight tang that excites her even more. What’s she even doing?

Wouldn’t it be more fun if she just let loose? Isn’t that what’s been missing the whole time? The fun?

When she sees the glint in his piercing stare— impish despite everything they’ve been through— she gets it. It’s hopeless— she is and they are but they’re together and the fun isn’t gone— she’s done. He earned it.

“Stevie—” she finally cries, animalistic; it doesn’t sound like his name but he must know it is because, even with the intense throbbing consuming her entire body, she can feel his shoulders soften under her thighs— “please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

“That’s it baby,” he coos against her clit, voice raw, compliant as he continues to pump his fingers in time to her squirming, “that’s my girl. I missed that pretty voice of yours.”

At what point the first orgasm turns into a second, she isn’t sure. It’s all one big blur of her whiny moans, wanton and liquid body, and his hushed prayers against her flushed skin, tongue lapping relentlessly against her. More baby; I know you can give me more. She doesn’t so much hear them as she does become them, absorbing them into her skin. That’s it angel— so good, so good for me.

She can feel him drinking in her mumbled, jagged noises, some words but others mere syllables, coaxed out of her by tongue and fingers all the same. Steve— honey— mmph, fuck, right there— oh my— the words pour out now, dam broken beyond repair, and for some reason, or maybe a lack thereof, it spurs her on even more, a freed woman if ever there was one—

“Oh my god, Stevie!”

It’s maddening— he’s maddening.

He’s relentless.

It isn’t until she yanks his still-eager mouth away from her, stomach iron-tense from way too much overstimulation, does he slowly draw his hand reluctantly back from her shuddering body. His other arm unwinds from where it’s been snaked around her knee, anchoring her to him throughout the duration of his worship. Now pushing him upright, holding him just near enough to where she can hear his labored breaths but not feel them, she shivers, cold as ice without his heat.

He stares down at her, unmoving, and her heart jumps in her chest. She doesn’t understand— he’s just standing there while she shudders, breathless. His shirt is stretched, no doubt from her pulling at it, and in noticing the damage she remembers how she’s completely naked and he’s completely not. Exposed doesn’t even begin to touch how she feels.

She wraps her arms around her chest, knees drawing up to tuck under her chin. “Steve?”

She’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly have him next to her— to have his furnace like warmth melting into her skin almost every minute. Now that she’s had her first real taste of him again, she’s de-acclimated to being alone. She needs him.

“C’mere,” she begs, shaking and a bit confused, why isn’t he touching her still, “please, Stevie, come back.”

When her fingers finally swipe against his shirt, barely snagging it, he flinches, coming back to her. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean—”

She flings herself at him, heart off kilter and erratic in her chest as her lips press against his, swallowing his apologies and hoping beyond anything else that he just catches her, like he always does. He does, kissing her back fervently— reverently. His tongue, tinted with her essence, scoops into her mouth the same way he had been between her thighs. She welcomes the way he takes charge, knowing he holds her against him with every ounce of strength he has.

“—’m sorry,” he pants into her mouth, clearly not satisfied with the success of her attack, “so, so sorry baby.”

He repeats the words deliriously. Presses them into her hair and against her temple, on her chin and both her cheeks. He especially feeds them to her, word for word, against her lips, soft at first and then rough, frenzied. He’s not talking about right now. He’s still back in that apartment; the fallen angel amongst the rubble, wings too broken to just leave it.

It’s not complicated. And it’s not revenge, because she could never make him feel worse than he already does, nor would she want to. So, in between kisses and apologies, she answers.

“I know, Stevie.”

“It’s ok— we’re ok, Stevie.”

“Steve, stop— I love you!”

He stops. He sets her down, bare feet planting unsteady against the ground. He steps back. What?

“Stevie?” She questions, already moving forward, but his arms, sweeping over his head, towing his shirt up and off, halt her in her tracks.

Oh.

This time, when she says his name it's only a breathy moan, fingers searching for his belt loops and hooking him towards her. In the time it takes for her hands to find the button— this one, thankfully, popping open immediately— there must be a god somewhere who didn’t abandon them in the rubble— he’s back on her, one hand carefully threading through her hair, dragging her mouth back to his, while the other pushes the rest of his clothes to the ground.

“I love you, I love— ah, fuck,” he hisses as her hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over his velvety tip.

For the first time, she smiles against his mouth, calm. “Language, Rogers.”

He pulls back, one neat eyebrow flicked up, but there’s humor in his eyes— no more tension. No more worry. Just fun. He leans down, nuzzling his chin down the side of her face, breath fanning her ear. Her hand stutters as it tugs on him, dragging up and down. He’s so hard— it’s been so damn long.

“Thought I was Stevie, baby?” It’s an absent minded tease, blush lips parted even after the fact, glued to the way she touches him.

In turn she watches his face, crowned in a mussed up halo of gold, some of which sticks to his forehead but most falling at every which angle, a product of her thighs sealing themselves around him. She can’t say that she’s never seen him this disheveled but she’ll never get used to it. He’s perfect— she makes him so messy.

Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one enjoying herself, though, if the heaviness of him between her fingers, rutting into her palm is anything to go by. She squeezes harder, testing something, and he groans something almost inhuman against her neck. Guttural. He’s so close already. It fuels her like nothing else, tickling the part of her that just wants to please. She’s making reparations, too. Speeding up, she works him faster. Come on, honey.

“Stevie—” she echoes and the next thing she knows, he’s pulling her off him, pushing her towards the steam which billows out from behind the curtain.

From the moment her feet touch the warm, wet surface of the shower floor, everything is a blur. The water sprays over her harshly, but only for a moment, before he overpowers it with his own, massive body, just as searing against her skin. She registers the slick splat of her back against the wall, a grunt— missed this, baby, and her own feral howl as he slams into her. There’s no waiting, no tiptoeing, only his cock sealing them together furiously once more.

One of her legs is hiked up impossibly far, hinging near his hip where his hand crushes her to him. The other leg holds her up— barely— heel raised, toes splaying for grip as she reaches higher. He’s just so big— so tall and so thick. So impossible to adequately open herself to without him fully lifting her but she wants to try so she does her best to meet his brutal pace, clinging around his neck desperately.

If his fingers had filled her entirely, his cock is almost unbearable. She relishes it, though, the way she can almost feel him in her damn throat with each and every drag. It’s mesmerizing, the way there’s no need for adjustment— for remembering. He knows her body like it’s his own and it makes her drool with pleasure.

The slapping of their skin together proves to be louder than the rush of the water, but not more so than Steve whose mouth is working over time, ladeling praises directly into her ear, soaked, stubbly chin grating deliciously against her temple.

“You look so pretty baby,” he hums, staring mesmerized at their bodies to where he slips in and out of her, “ look at you taking me so well.”

And she does.

It’s a lewd notion, the way she can see exactly where he is inside her by the way her belly ripples with his plunges, but one that makes her gasp nonetheless, spasming around him which is also visible to both of them. Loosening one of her hands from its vice grip on his shoulder, he places it on the exact spot, urging her to feel just how big he is. With every sloppy push and pull, she does feel it, and it sends her reeling.

“See that?” He rasps, and she can only nod, mouth agape enough for some of the water falling off his hair to drip into it.

She swallows it, tongue somehow so, so dry despite everything. Her nerves are on fire, everything so much slower than it should be.

The agonizing pull of his hand on hers, dragging her own fingers under his to toy with her clit.

The little circles that take hours to complete but nurture the current running through her veins regardless.

The fucking torturous in and out of his cock— taunting her, languidly pounding her for what feels like an eternity— she can’t think. She’s in the water but she feels under it, too, foggy and pent up. She just wants to cum—

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—”

“—Stevie!”

She breaks through the sluggish pleasure into electric and all consuming waves, head falling against the wall as his hips stutter against hers, pumping once, then twice, before falling still. Each time, she clenches harder, babbling something gritty and foul and incomprehensible. Something along the lines of holy fucking shit baby but its blurred with searing, pulsing pleasure.

There’s stars behind her eyes and steam in her nose as he falls against her chest, sopping hair tickling her hypersensitive skin. Him pulling feels like what two exposed wires touching must— all sparky and hot. It’s too much.

“Mmm, careful baby,” she mumbles and he chuckles.

“Of course.”

The rest is truly a lull. Steve doesn’t bother gathering their clothes, only her, carrying her limp body to the bed and carefully setting her under the covers, dripping and all, before joining her. If she weren’t so sleepy, she would have scolded him. But she is and her eyes are refusing to stay open, let alone give him that look. It’s all she can do = to seek his warm skin once more, slithering against his body and rooting herself there.

Cauterized, or something like it.

#Steve Rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel smut #MCU smut #Avengers smut #dizzy is BACK #did you miss me?

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sakuraryomen01 · 1 year ago

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Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .10

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, smut/nsfw, hook ups, sexual fantasies and masturbation

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.761k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n:: before u guys read i hope that y'all r doing well and that the beginning of this chapter isn't as traumatic as it seems (to me anyways lmao XD). my life is crazy, but i wanted to get this next chapter out asap!! i love u guys!!

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

. . .

“A-Ahh, fuck.. Shit~“

Dirty and whiny moaning, harsh slaps of skin on skin. The bed rocking hard, creating dents into the headboard, knocking against the wall. Nails dug into the skin of Sukuna’s biceps, his groaning and panting masked by the girl beneath him. Her cries louder than his ever were, the lewd mewls elicited from her throat as he continued to ram his cock deep into her cunny.

“Dammit, haa..” Sukuna’s brows pressed tighter together, his eyes glazing over as his edge neared. “Fuckk..”

The lady blushed, her gazed foggy but her cheeks flushed as she reached up to grab a hold of Sukuna’s face. Her fingers grazed the edges of his jawline as she squeezed harshly around his aching cock. He was so close.

“S-Sukuna.. I’m gonna cum again,” Her sultry voice echoed through his foggy head. The distraction he wanted to keep creating for himself wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping.

At this point, Sukuna didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Raise your damn ass, woman,” He said, his rough voice making the girl’s blush go from a slight heat to an almost feverish touch. Sukuna slipped himself from her heat– lifting her hips and flipped her onto her stomach– before slipping himself back into her warmth, beginning to feel his edge nearing, truly. “Fuck, ‘m close, girl.”

While Sukuna’s soft groans start to grow louder, even if only slightly, while the woman’s wails beneath him began to break. Her cries of pleasure and almost pain echoed with the bed’s creaking, only to be covered by the boom box downstairs and thirty other seniors and junior college students. The loud music, the booze, it was all a dangerous combo Sukuna had taken a liking to since attending this college.

Since seeing you, and the moment he was forced to have you as a tutor.

He wasn’t so used to the common hustle and bustle, but seeing you among it. Seeing how well you were already molded into the society of the city, it disturbed him deeply. He didn’t understand, nor did he want to know why. All he knew was that it upset him, and he wanted to beat you at whatever this sad game was. This heart-to-heart shit wasn’t in the cards, neither was that “promise” he made.

Sukuna was foolish when he was young, he didn’t want a broken heart.

He didn’t have a broken heart.

“Call me sometime, hunny?” The drunk girl he had just destroyed giggled, slipping her pink and lacy thong over her plush thighs, a droopy smile on her face. “This was really, really fun.”

Sukuna, who was busy with his thoughts and belt, didn’t take a second glance. He just fixed his leather jacket up and grabbed his shoes, unlocking the door and leaving the room. “Not interested.”

While the woman was left frazzled and somewhat hurt, Sukuna fixed up his shirt and slipped on his shoes, glancing around the hallways before heading to the main living area. Grabbing another drink from the table, he chugged it down quickly despite the numb stink he got from the weird mixes. He crushed the plastic cup and turned away from all the grinding women and men that were swaying to the music that was playing outside, heading to the door as his mind began to fog up.

It was like an addiction, to remove all worry and annoyance from his mind.

Taking a second look around the party room, he pulled a small box from his back pocket and headed outside. Getting a lighter from his other pocket, he opened the small box, and lifted a cig from it. Bringing the stick to his lips, Sukuna lights the end of it as he climbs into his truck and starts the engine. While he said very few words on the way back to his dorm, he was lost in thought.

Thinking about the last month, seeing you near daily.

Seeing that skittish smile, and your nervous glances towards him. Even just recently, seeing you straight from the shower, it brought a small warmth to his cheeks. Although he’s seen tits before, it was shameful that he was wondering often what was hidden under that damned towel. What was covered that he didn’t want to think about after so long.

He had thought at first that you were truly the most annoying thing on the face of the planet, but a very small and dark part of him thought you had grown well. That your looks were down right gorgeous and adorable at the same time.

You looked so soft, but toned. Eyes pretty but they didn’t sparkle as bright as any attention whore he crossed paths with. You were perfectly imperfect to him.

Poetic.. Gross.

Once parked and out of the car, Sukuna walked from the parking lot to the male’s dormitory. His eyes found themselves looking towards the girl’s area, tracing each darkened or lit window they came across. Unable to spot which one probably belonged to you, he took a breath of the cold night air and a puff from his cancer stick. Wondering if your dorm was still as messy as it seemed last time. If it still smelled like cum and perfume. If your gaming system was all sorted like you used to keep your books in the Stix.

The very thought of back then made him shiver and stiffen, pulling the now burned out end of the cigarette from his pinkish lips and pressing the lit end to a brick wall.

Tossing the bit over to the sidewalk, he stepped up to the building and headed to his dorn. Stepping passed the socks on knobs, the laughs of friends playing games in their rooms, the quiet murmurs and somewhat opened doors of people studying for their semi-finals and upcoming midterms. Sukuna passed them all to the third floor where his door sat at the very end of a quiet hallway, the silence almost too loud as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Taking one step inside and feeling a sense of slight dread. A sense that something inside him wanted to stir.

Whatever it was, he was going to have to do it by hand.

Closing the door, he went to shower before going to make a breakfast burrito that he had saved from that morning. There wasn’t much on TV other than some news that didn’t interest him, so he got finished with his dinner and ended up watching some of the cartoons that he, you, and Gojo had watched prior.

It didn’t matter if it made him kinda smile at the thought of you sitting on the floor with a blanket wrapped around your waist and thighs. It didn’t upset him to think about how cute you had grown up to be, that your features weren’t as bad as he wished they could. It was hard that he had to ignore this shitty clench of his chest and the throb in his pants.

Not a day in his life did Sukuna ever feel anything but rage or anger, but today, it was a feeling he despised. That he never wanted to feel again since his childhood, it was a stupid feeling he had squashed the second he left the Stix.

“..Fuck me,” He muttered to himself, letting his head rest back on the head of the couch. Pulling a blanket over his lap as Sukuna’s hand found its way underneath the cloth and rubbed at his crotch.

With very little effort, he could tell that he was rock hard. And even littler effort to free himself and start pumping his shaft, feeling all the pre that had collected in his pants. Sukuna lets out a groan, pressing his brows together as his mind wanders back to when he had walked in on you.

In my own room, you weirdo. At least you could’ve hung up a sock or some shit.

The cartoons continued to play, although the childish music and jokes on the screen didn’t make it to Sukuna’s ears. All he could think about was his new release, and about that damned towel. Wondering what would’ve happened if he had just snatched that rag and saw what was underneath for himself. Sukuna’s eyes lidded and his breath became ragged, thinking about what your tits felt like against his chest, wanting to grind his girth between them.

“Shit.. fuckk..”

The image of your small hips in his hands, letting him glide them over the fat or your ass until you yelped. Sukuna had wondered plenty about what your lips felt like against his, if you were a good or bad kisser. Whatever you were, he was willing to teach you.

Returning the favor right?

Imagining the feeling of your lips between his teeth as he tugged and nibbled, wanting to watch them slightly swell from the kisses and breathless moans.

Sukuna felt his tummy and thighs clench, wanting to savor his orgasm. His hand went faster, the sounds of his fist pumping and shaking as pre slipped through his fingers became louder. Completely drowning out the sounds of the TV, Sukuna’s face scrunched up and he grabbed at the blanket.

His imagination brought him to his bed, your body under his. Your face flushed red, hands against his chest as if to attempt to push him away.

“Ryo.. It's embarrassing!”

Sukuna smirked as his fist squeezed his shaft, groaning under the intense pleasure. Wondering what your whimpers and moans sounded like, if your pussy was tight enough to make him finish early.

The thought of what lay between your thighs sent a jolt up Sukuna's spine, a sudden urge to cum overcame him.

He pulled the blanket from over his cock and glanced down at his naughty member. Seeing it become an angry looking red, it made him upset. How could you of all people make him so hard?

Why was it you? Your soft looking lips, your huggable waist and chest? Why of everyone he's fucked, everyone he's come across it was you that toppled over all?

Whatever his mind wanted, he wished he didn't.

As he released all over his pants, even kicking at his coffee table from the powerful climax, Sukuna's heart wasn't fulfilled.

He could feel a ping of guilt in his chest.

He really, really shouldn't have done that.

Worst part about it all was that he was going to be seeing you in class again, after the third time he played with his cock to thoughts of you.

“..Really.. Fuck my life.”

. . .

a/n: finally got the chapter out guys!! I'll be quick on here since there's little to say but I hope y'all r doing good!!><

Chapter Song Theme:

— Varsity Fanclub - Zero [Lyrics] | 7Vibes Lyrics

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalflashlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci, @opossum0-0, @gumisgirl, @mommasbigd, @heyitstacy

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arcane-vagabond · 1 year ago

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Fool's Fare: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Death of parents, angst, talk of ghosts and the supernatural, Big Brother!Bradley...I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I went ahead and wrote this. I am just as interested as y'all to see where this fic goes lol As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are encouraged and appreciated! I'll be doing Drabble Sunday this weekend to celebrate my first 100 followers! So get your requests ready!! 18+ ONLY!! And you can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The ocean was a deep, terrifying swirl of forgotten pasts and harrowing mysteries. The vicious pull of the waves sending many sailors to their graves for thousands of years without mercy. No, the ocean was not kind. It was the source of life on the best of occasions and cruel and unforgiving on the worst.

Your father had been a sailor. Working for a large shipping company hauling various goods from one end of the sea to the other, he was often gone for long stretches of time. After months of being away, it was always a joyous reunion when he would return. He would swing you up in his arms, twirling you until your little giggles turned into full blown laughter. He would set you back down on your feet and greet your mother with an affectionate kiss to her temple before tugging you both into his arms.

“My best girls are always here to greet me when I get home,” he’d grin. Your mother would hum, running her hands through the beard he’d grow during his time away.

“Come inside,” she’d say, leading you both into your modest, seaside home. Your father would sit at the table as your mother fixed him a plate. He would tell her that he was more than capable of fixing his own plate, but she would wave him off and place the food gently in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head.

One day, when you were a little over four years old, your father had come home from a voyage with a scraggly looking boy who looked to be about twice your age. Your father had been dragging the boy by the scruff of his collar when you and your mother had come out to greet him. The boy had dark brown hair that had been bleached from time in the sun and steady, brown eyes that held steady as he took in the house before him.

“Found this one on the coasts of the Carolinas,” your father had said with a grin, letting go of the boy’s shirt. He stumbled forward, almost falling headfirst onto the ground. He looked back at the older man with a scowl before turning to look at the two of you.

“My, don’t you look a sight?” your mother had said with a small smile as she took the boy in. He puffed out his chest in a bid to make himself seem bigger and your mother had laughed. You took the few, small steps up to him, taking his hand in yours excitedly.

“My name is y/n,” you chirped up at him. “What’s yours?”

The boy studied you with pursed lips.

“Bradley,” he muttered. Your father had let out a booming laugh, causing Bradley to jump.

“That’s the first answer we’ve been able to get out of him since we caught him rifling through our supplies on the ship!” he guffawed. “C’mon now, boy. Let’s go get us some supper.”

And so your family had taken in Bradley Bradshaw as one of your own, and he settled in fairly quickly amongst the rest of you. He would help your mother out with different chores around the house, and when your father was home, he would take you and Bradley down by the docks to teach you the ways of sailing.

“You want to tie it like this, sweetheart,” he’d say to you as he guided your hands on how to move the rope. “It’s one of the most important knots a sailor needs to know. It’s called the ‘bowline.’”

“Like this?” Bradley had asked, holding up his own rope for your father to inspect.

“Atta boy, Rooster!” your father had laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Bradley had earned the nickname not too long after he had joined your little family. Your father had just gotten back from another transporting job. He had been woken from his sleep by sounds coming from the kitchen. When he had stumbled into the room, he had seen Bradley already working on feeding the fire for the day.

“The sun isn’t even up yet, Bradley,” your father had laughed as the boy shrunk in on himself. “I doubt even the rooster is awake! Looks like you’re gunnin’ for his job.”

And the name had stuck.

Now, Bradley was more confident in his place within your family. Now, Bradley was much taller and his form was filling out thanks to the many hours spent doing the heavy lifting around your home.

“Keep this up,” your father started, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, “and maybe I’ll take you with me on a job here soon.”

Bradley’s face lit up. “Do you mean it?”

“Let’s see, you're about, what, sixteen now?”

“Yes, sir,” Bradley nodded, a smile etched onto his face. Your father nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, you should be ready here soon.”

You looked down at the rope in your hands with a frown. “I’ll never get this. Why do I even have to learn this?”

“Because, my little minnow,” your father smiled, “it’s an important skill to know and have.”

“But Mama says that women aren’t even allowed on ships,” you muttered. Your father smoothed the hair out of your face with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s true, women were once considered bad luck to have on ships, and many men still consider them to be so,” he began. “But times are changing, and maybe one day soon you’ll get to set sail with us.”

“Really?” you asked him, eyes filled with hope. He laughed and nodded, turning to look at Bradley.

“C’mon you two. Let’s go see what Mother’s been cooking.”

The three of you trudged up the hill to your home where your mother was already standing outside to greet you. Greeting her with a tender kiss, your father ushed you and Bradley into the house.

When supper was finished and the table had been cleared, you all gathered around the small fireplace. Your father sat in his favorite chair while Bradley and your mother took up the other two. You sat by your fathers feet, resting your head against his knee. The smell from your father’s pipe permeated the room and left you with a sense of fond familiarity as he slowly stroked your hair.

“Papa,” you said, “will you tell us a story?”

“And what kind of story would you like to hear, little minnow?”

“An adventure!” Bradley had grinned. You shook your head.

“No,” you argued. “A ghost story.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, y/n,” the older boy scoffed. Your father hummed with a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be so sure o’ that, Rooster,” he smiled. Bradley fixed him with an incredulous look.

“Surely you can’t be serious?”

“As the dead, lad,” your father said solemnly, rubbing the bowl of his pipe. “Ghosts walk amongst the living, as real as you or I. Some even sail the seas, waiting for the day Davy Jones lets them pass into the great beyond.”

“What does Davy Jones even have to do with the dead,” Bradley huffed. Your father arched an eyebrow at him.

“He has everything to do with the dead at sea, Bradley,” he replied softly. “Davy Jones is a powerful man. Not quite human, not quite god. He’s as cruel and unforgiving as the sea, and some even think he was born from the waves that beat against the rocks by the shore. They say his very will controls the tides, and any man foolish enough to invoke his wrath is met with a gruesome fate.”

“Those are just superstitions,” Bradley countered with a scowl.

“You’re free to believe that,” your father began, “but you’d be a fool to. No sailor with a lick of sense is going to take that chance. Davy Jones will come for us all.”

“Why does Davy Jones stay at sea, Papa?” you chirped.

“No one is quite sure,” your father mused. “Perhaps he’s searching for treasure.”

“Would you ever go looking for treasure?” you questioned. Your father smiled.

“I’ve already found my treasure,” he said, casting a fond smile to your mother, who blushed under his gaze.

“Have you ever seen Davy Jones?” you prodded with wide eyes. Your father chuckled, patting your head in reassurance.

“No, little minnow. But those who have are few and far in between. Davy Jones isn’t in the business of letting witnesses stay alive.”

“That’s enough, Maverick,” your mother had chided. Your father had the good sense to look sheepish. Maverick was a name your father had earned during his time at sea, and your mother only called him that when she was cross. Usually, she called him by his given name; Peter or Pete.

“My apologies, Penny, my dear,” he said. Looking back down at you, he offered a smile. “Alright, y/n, it’s time for bed. You too, Bradley. I need you up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

You and Bradley bid your mother goodnight as your father followed you down the hall. When you had crawled under your blanket, he had made sure to tuck you in tight.

“I didn’t scare you too bad, did I, little minnow?” he asked. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, Papa. But, what if you meet Davy Jones one day?”

“That won’t be for a good, long while, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. You nodded, resting your head back down onto your pillow. Your father leaned over to peck your forehead before standing to walk out the door.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said. You smiled.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

A good, long while was not long enough in the end. It was six years later when you got the news that your father’s ship had gone down in a storm off the coast of the Caribbean. Your mother had been beside herself, crying all hours of the day as you and Bradley did your best to stay strong for her sake.

Bradley had caught you crying by the fireplace one night after you thought everyone had gone to bed. He sat next to you, and pulled you to his side as you cried into his shoulder.

“I miss him so much,” you sobbed.

“I know,” he said softly. “I do too.”

“He should be here.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “We didn’t even get to bury him.”

“I know, Guppy,” he sighed, hugging you tighter. Bradley wasn’t very good with words, and he sure as hell wasn’t good with emotions. “But he wouldn’t want us to dwell on this, you know that.”

“I know,” you sniffled, rubbing at your eyes. “He always loved the sea.”

“He loved being here, too,” Bradley countered. You looked up to see his own eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Your mother had followed your father not long after. She had stopped eating and barely took a sip when you begged her to drink some water. She would stay perched by the window in the bedroom she once shared with your father, just staring out at the sea as if willing him to return. It had ended up being a fever that had taken her one early, autumn morning. It was your turn to be inconsolable as you once again found yourself buried into Bradley’s shoulder as he held you tightly. You buried your mother on the hill that overlooked the sea, forever waiting for your father to return home.

You and Bradley had stayed by her grave until the sun began to set.

The following days were filled with familiar motions and quiet sobs hidden behind closed doors long after the stars began to shine in the night sky. One night, you had set a bowl of stew in front of Bradley after he had come home from working at the docks. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes before Bradley pulled you to your feet. You went to say something, but he motioned for you to be quiet as he pulled you through the front door and out of the house.

“Where are we going?” you hissed quietly.

“Just trust me,” he shot back, dragging you down to the beach. The cool sand rubbed against the soles of your feet as you followed him, and he stopped you when you both were standing at the edge of the water. The water felt like ice as it licked aginst your ankles, and you felt a shudder run up your spine.

“There!” he called out, gesturing towards the open sea. You looked, but saw nothing but the white caps of waves.

“I don’t see anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. Bradley offered you a smile.

“That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough,” he murmured. He bent down, pointing his finger so that it was directly in your line of sight. “There, do you see it now?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see what it was he was looking at. “Rooster, I don’t-”

“I see them,” he interrupted you, smiling confidantly. You fixed him with a puzzled look. “I see Mav and Penny just over there past the waves.”

Your heart stopped and hot tears licked at your eyes as you looked back at the churning waters. It was then that you saw what Bradley had been talking about. You saw your mother and your father with smiles on their faces, staring at each other with adoration clear as day on their faces. You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you looked back to see them waving at you. You huffed a laugh and smiled back at them with a wave of your own.

“Looks like Davy Jones let Mav come back for his treasure,” Bradley said. You threw yourself into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you, Bradley.”

The sea could be cold and cruel, but you had the strength to weather the storm.

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