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#I HAVE A MUSTACHE NOW WHAT IF I WALK IN TO THE WOMENS AND THEY FREAK OUT!!!! AUGHHH
likethe-month · 2 days
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The Time Between Us
-Historical Yandere x Reader-
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Yandere x Accidental Time Traveler Reader
This was so fun to write, and I have more for this particular story so I will probably post more soon.
Reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns
Warnings: Yandere/possessive behavior, outdated ideas about gender, mentions of mental health, outdated ideas about mental health,
-
You are a college student writing a history paper about big cities in America’s Gilded Age when the dusty old PC belonging to the school sends you back to 1881.
You find yourself in the same building and room, but 143 years into the past. A man walks in and is utterly shocked to see you sprawled out on the ground in your confused state.
His name is James Harrington, and he is an architect who visits the school archives room to do his work. He is of average height with dark brown hair with a matching mustache and brown eyes that seem to linger on your bare legs for extended periods of time.
He informs you that ladies usually wear a skirt, and you start to think this man has never seen a bare set of women’s legs.
Your comfortable shorts and T-shirt aren’t exactly considered “lady-like” in this day and age.
It takes a lot of convincing to convince James you’re telling the truth, and he finally believes you when you show him your smartphone.
He is absolutely buzzing with questions, and you attempt to answer as many as you can before you figure it’s time to try and find a way back to your time.
Holding the paper in front of your face, you retrace your steps back to where you were sitting when you were transported here and closed your eyes.
Back in front of the school PC, you breathed a sigh of relief. Today’s events called for a night in, so you headed back to your dorm room.
Against the more logical part of your brain telling you to stay away from the computer lab, you make the decision to return.
You still have work to do, after all!
Over the course of the week, you go back to 1881, and James is always in the room, anticipating your arrival. You both decide it would be safe for you to stay in the room and only talk to James until he can get you some proper attire.
When he does, you sneak into a restroom when James assures you no one else is around, and you change into an outfit consisting of a high-necked blouse and skirt.
James feels proud, and he tries unsuccessfully to hide the light dusting of red on his cheeks. He informs you that you look like a “proper lady.” A part of him misses the strange, unfamiliar clothing and hairstyle you don, however, and he tends to mistake your modern ways for eccentricity.
James will absolutely romanticize the differences between the two of you, viewing your confusion as innocence, and his image of you makes his stomach twist in a way he's never felt before.
Then, he lets you know that his employer is hosting a dinner for his employees. He invites you as his date, and you eagerly accept, not willing to turn down the opportunity to see a lavishly decorated house belonging a Gilded Age businessman.
On the carriage ride there, he instructed you over exactly what to say and how to behave. Having seen your fair share of historical dramas, you were only half-listening, your eyes taking in every detail of the carriage.
The dinner goes well, and you even impress your hosts with your knowledge and mannerisms.
James' boss, Mr. Whitney, pulls him aside after dinner while everyone in the parlor room is deep in their own conversations.
“She’s a unique woman, indeed, Mr. Harrington. You’d be wise to keep a girl like that in your future prospects.”
Those words seemed to change something in James. Suddenly, he looked at you in a completely different way. Initially, he was planning on trying to persuade you to stay with him in 1881. He now knew that a real man, a successful businessman like Mr. Whitney, would take away your ability to choose. James would have to keep you here.
When you finish your drink, he asks you to join him in the ballroom where the other guests are dancing, and you do so, jumping a bit when he wraps a hand around your waist without hesitation.
He whispers lowly into your ear about how glad he is that you were “sent to him” as the two of you dance.
You grimace to yourself at his words and decide then and there that it may be a good idea to stay in 2024.
When you return for the final time, you plan on taking a walk through the city with your period-appropriate clothes to take everything in one last time.
You go back to 1881 and enjoy the sights while your final moments in the past last. You return to the archives room to be met with a sight that makes your stomach drop down to your feet.
James is holding the building plan, observing it with cold, observant eyes. You’re not sure what to do here. He’s holding your only way back home in his hands, eyeing it in a very strange way…
“Hello, James,” you say carefully. “Have you had a chance to enjoy the sunshine today?”
He turns to you briefly to signal that he’s listening. “You do understand why I have to do this, don’t you?”
You freeze, feeling faint. “Do what?” you say, trying to not let your desperation show. “James, what are you doing?”
Without another word, he rips the paper in two, then into four, then six, eight, countless pieces.
It takes everything you have not to fall onto your knees. You were trapped. You were trapped in 1881.
He looks at you, but before a taunt can escape his lips, you lunge at him, a scream ripping from your throat. Hands suddenly apprehend your attack, and your held firmly in place by two policemen who seemed to come out of nowhere.
“It really is so unfortunate,” James says, sounding almost bored. “She’s gone completely mad. I’m not sure what warranted this sudden change in behavior. I’m glad I was able to contact the authorities before she hurt herself.”
“These cases of women gone into hysterics are common. She’ll receive the proper care at Somervault Mental Asylum,” one of the men says, grunting as you thrash and shriek.
“I’ll visit you soon, dearest. For now, just make sure to get better,” James says, grinning wolfishly at you once the social workers weren’t looking.
You’re hauled off to the asylum, and for just a second, you believe you really would fall into insanity.
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elysiuminfra · 10 months
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now that i'm further into my transition what bathroom do i use. oh no. what bathroom do i fucking use
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ladadiida · 1 year
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.
or,
you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!
𝐰𝐜 11.3k
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"There you are."
Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.
He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.
"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.
You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.
An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."
"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."
"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.
"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.
Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.
"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.
However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."
Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"
"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.
Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.
On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.
You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.
Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.
It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.
You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.
"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.
Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"
A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.
Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.
Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.
You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.
Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.
Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.
It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.
The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."
You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.
"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.
His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."
In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"
"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."
You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"
"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."
"Maybe I can—"
"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.
"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.
Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.
Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"
A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"
His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."
He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.
You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.
With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.
"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."
A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.
Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"
Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"
"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.
"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"
"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.
"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.
The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."
Zeff took a deep, tired breath.
"Oh, they're ringing alright."
You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.
Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.
The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.
Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.
Or so you thought.
You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?
So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.
The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.
Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.
Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.
You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.
You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.
And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.
You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.
"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.
You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."
Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"
"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"
With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.
Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.
"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.
"Now I do."
Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.
You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"
"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."
Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.
You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"
Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.
"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.
Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.
"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."
He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."
You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"
Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"
You nodded. "I don't like it."
He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"
"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.
A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."
Oh.
Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."
He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.
But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."
Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.
"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.
"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.
Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"
Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.
But the answer was simple.
"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.
And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.
He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"
"Why not me?"
Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.
More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"
Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.
"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."
You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."
"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.
You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.
However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.
Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.
He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.
Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.
Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.
Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.
Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.
When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.
He doesn't.
⸻ • ⸻
"Are you really going to leave?"
Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.
"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.
Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."
You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.
The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."
You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."
"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.
Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.
And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.
You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.
Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?
You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.
"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.
"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"
A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?
"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."
Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.
Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."
Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.
He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.
As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.
In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.
He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.
Sanji almost dropped the plate.
It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.
He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.
You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.
"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.
That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.
You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"
"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.
"Sanji!"
He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.
Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"
It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.
Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.
"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.
He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."
That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.
Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.
You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.
He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.
Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.
A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.
You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.
Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.
"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."
"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.
Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."
The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.
You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.
Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.
The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.
But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.
"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.
You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.
"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.
Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."
You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"
He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."
The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.
It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.
As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.
"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.
The realization began to sink in.
Oh.
You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."
Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.
"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.
"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."
When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."
"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.
"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."
"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.
He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."
"No..."
"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.
"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.
However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."
You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."
"Even with me by your side?"
A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."
Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."
The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"
"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.
"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.
Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.
Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"
"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.
"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.
You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"
Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.
He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.
You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.
⸻ • ⸻
The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.
But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.
"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.
You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."
"I will."
"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.
You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"
He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.
"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"
Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"
When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."
"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.
Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.
It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.
⸻ • ⸻
The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.
A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"
You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."
The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."
"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.
Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.
Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.
You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.
You missed Sanji and everything that he was.
You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.
Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.
"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.
"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."
You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.
Sanji.
As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.
How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,
"There you are, ange."
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vivwritescrappythings · 7 months
Text
saying thanks
joel miller x afab!fem!reader
Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
tw: smut, fem reader, afab reader, unspecified age gap, reader is smaller than Joel (shorter, can be picked up by him), oral (m! receiving), p in v sex, crying, fighting, blood, drinking, Joel may be out of character but I don’t care, not proofread.
Word count: 8.1k
masterlist
MDNI!
Joel was seething. You’d never seen him like this, rage burning in his gaze and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he was pushed toward the door. Of course you’d seen him in fights before, dealing with raiders and infected on patrol was a bloody business at best, but the second the new guy, Jake? Jack, at the Tipsy Bison put a hand on you—just touching your arm—Joel exploded.
You didn’t even have time to blink before the man grabbing your arm was on the ground, ugly bruises blossoming on his face. You didn’t even launch into action to get Joel off of him, shock leaving you frozen. You only remained plastered against the bar, gaping at Joel’s savage expression and the way his fists bludgeoned Jack's face. The drink in your hand spilled over the sides a bit, a sticky combination of fruit juice and alcohol coating your skin and absorbing in the sleeve of your sweater.
You were already tipsy, your face hot and your eyes a bit glassy. You were more loose with your expressions, the careful filter you kept starting to deteriorate. By the time a bar fight broke out, you were already more than a few drinks in, your heart pounding in your chest along with the soft music and a thin layer of sweat starting to prickle at the back of your neck.
Joel had stayed quiet that night, sticking to the secluded booth in the back of the bar that he usually haunted. There was no acknowledgement of each other, his chocolate-colored eyes had landed on you for a moment when you walked in, shadowed over by his dark brow in its permanent scowl. As always, he didn’t speak to you despite the fact that you spent most mornings together patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.
He wasn’t your biggest fan, even going so far as to complain to his brother when the two of you had been assigned together. Tommy was giving you a shot on the patrol, you were newer to Jackson and needed a job. You could handle a gun and didn’t seem completely clueless, so he figured he would stick you with Joel to see if you made it out on the other side.
But, nevertheless, Joel was now being pulled off Jack by a few other patrons. They hauled him up by the collar of his canvas jacket, his knuckles bloodied and a snarl on his face as Jack scrambled away. You still stood wide-eyed and dopey, your voice caught in your throat as you struggled for something to say.
Joel wouldn’t look at you, eyes drilling into Jack as he was shoved toward the door. He kept hissing threats through his teeth, snippets of ‘I’ll break your fucking arm if you ever touch her again,’ audible above the music as he grappled with the men trying to contain him.
Your gaze traced the outline of his aquiline nose, the way his lips were pursed beneath his dark mustache. It was a struggle to push him out the door. You flinched when it slammed shut behind him, spilling more of your drink.
“You better get your damn dog on a leash.” It was one of the older women in the neighborhood, her brows drawn and a disgusted expression on her face as she regarded you. You finally snapped out of your shocked stupor, looking at Jack’s bloodied and swollen face as he was picked up and put into a booth.
What was Joel even thinking?
You downed your drink in a few gulps, setting the empty glass on the bar before pushing yourself away from the bar top. Wind swept inside the Tipsy Bison as you forced the door open, providing a moment of relief from the humid heat of the bar. It was starting to get cold out, dried leaves swirling in the breeze as autumn settled into the bones of Jackson.
You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you peered out into the darkness. The leaves crunched under your shoes as you took a few tentative steps, the sweater you wore offering you little protection from the wind.
Joel leaned against the wall of a nearby business, his head tilted back and his throat bared to the dim light of the moon. He was sucking in deep breaths through his mouth, his bloody knuckles limp at his sides. His jacket was off-kilter from where he’d been thrown out the door, his hair mussed.
“Joel?” You approached him like you would a wild animal, on high alert and prepared for any sudden movement.
He looked at you with a bored expression, the moonlight catching on the silver hair that splintered at his temples and in his patchy beard. You hesitated, stopping your approach for a moment before pressing on until you were a few feet in front of him. His dark curls stuck up in every direction, they were a little long now that winter was approaching.
“What the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your weight settled so one hip popped out to the side. You sounded more aggressive than you intended to, the words coming out like an accusation rather than a question.
It was times like this that made the age and size difference between you and Joel apparent. He stood up straight, towering over you a bit as he cleared his throat. Sometimes he made you feel like you were still just a dumb teenager instead of a woman in her mid twenties. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice a deep grumble with a slight southern twang to it.
A scoff leaves your mouth before you can even stop it, the alcohol reducing your filter to near non-existence. “What do you mean, Joel? I watched you beat the shit out of that guy for what? Touching my arm?” You were a little too loud, your voice ricocheting off the buildings around you. Under different circumstances, you would have cringed and apologized immediately, but something forced you to soldier on.
Thankfully no one else was outside that night—it was too cold and still too early for the Tipsy Bison to have a last call. It felt like a standoff. His dark eyes were trained on your face, his mouth drawn into a scowl. You usually backed down to him, acquiescing to his stubborn nature.
“And so what if it was?” Joel grumbled, his attitude matching your own. The way he crossed his arms made his biceps bulge under the fabric of his jacket—your breath hitched for a moment before you glanced away.
You shook your head, disbelief coloring your expression as his words settled in. “You don’t even like me!” You can’t help but gesture wildly, your hands moving like they had minds of their own.
He ignored you regularly. There was an unspoken rule of only acknowledging one another on patrols together. The woods outside of Jackson were the only place that Joel would actually talk to you, otherwise you acted like perfect strangers in town.
His jaw clenched as he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps closer to you. “Who said I didn’t like you?” he asked, his voice lower as his head dipped toward yours.
He couldn’t be serious.
Your eyebrows shot up, disbelief making you smile incredulously. “What, so ignoring me in public and complaining about me to Tommy is how you treat your friends?” You were moments away from leaving and letting Joel find a new patrol partner.
You spent too much time defending Joel from his reputation as the town pariah, arguing that he wasn’t the animal everyone thought he was. He had a hard time blending in, bigger than most everyone except for his brother and unapproachable to a fault. It seemed that Tommy and Ellie were the only people he willingly spoke to, otherwise keeping largely to himself.
Sometimes you wondered if he heard the rumors going around about him—speculation that he used to be a hunter, a smuggler, a heartless killer. You never had it in you to ask him about it.
Not that he would tell you, anyways.
Joel’s scowl deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His silence did nothing but rile you up, it felt like an admission to the fact that you were right. You huffed, the autumnal breeze making dried leaves stick to your jeans and your breath clouding in the air.
“Well, Joel, you should really figure out how to act like an adult,” you snapped, shaking your head as you started to turn away from him. “You’re way too old to be beating up boys at a bar for touching someone you don’t even give a damn about.”
The Tipsy Bison called to you, warm light spilling out the windows and the people moving inside. Your friends were still in there, giggling with one another at the bar. You could see others nursing Jack in a booth, pressing ice wrapped in towels against his face as his blood turned them pink.
“I didn’t like how he was grabbing ya,” Joel finally said after you’d taken a few steps away. The admission made you stop in your tracks, looking back over your shoulder at the man. He looked sheepish as he admitted it, his gaze on the floor like a toddler getting scolded. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before redirecting his eyes to the sky. “You didn’t… you didn’t hear how he was talking about you… didn’t want you with a guy like that.”
Your eyebrows shot up, your lips parting slightly. Your head tilted up to look at him properly, eyes narrowed slightly as you evaluated him. He seemed shockingly sincere, the awkward expression on his face sealing the deal. “Careful Joel, I’m almost starting to think you care about me.”
There was something in the way his eyes shifted to meet yours that almost made your heart stop.
“Never said I didn’t care,” he mumbled, one of his baseball mitt hands coming to rub the back of his neck. The blood on his knuckles was drying, turning to a rust color under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but purse your lips, tilting your head to one side. It was hard to understand, the alcohol making you feel like you were buzzing as you mulled over Joel’s words.
He cleared his throat again, shuffling a little closer to you in the process. “When I talked to Tommy, I wasn’t complainin’ about you,” Joel said. His cheeks were flushed, making you wonder if he was cold or just from the alcohol. He was notorious for sucking down bourbon like it was water, especially on nights when he had nothing to do the next day.
“You weren’t?” you asked, probing the older man a bit. You had only walked by when Joel was talking to his brother, catching your name in their hushed whispers and Joel’s strained expression. You’d assumed it was because he was stuck with you, a newer recruit, a woman.
Joel sighed, shaking his head. It felt like you were pulling every word from his throat. “Tommy… he uh… he put us together because he thought it would be good for me,” he said, hesitating between parts of his sentence. “Thought you’d be good for me.”
“Good for you?” The alcohol made your voice soft around the edges, the question tumbling out of you before you had the sense to stop it. Joel stepped closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He was close enough that you could see the scar on his ear, the scars littering his bloodied hands and the ones across his nose. Sure, you’d seen them on patrol as you walked shoulder to shoulder, but for some reason you find yourself trying to memorize every detail about him in the moonlight.
“Yeah, sweetheart, good for me,” Joel mumbled, looking down at his boots for a moment before making eye contact with you again. Sweetheart. The nickname rattled around in your mind, echoing in time with your heartbeat. You would’ve punched anyone else for calling you sweetheart, but it sounded good coming from Joel.
Your face heated up, an odd smile quirking up the corners of your mouth as you struggled to find words to say. “You’re a liar, Joel,” you manage to spit out.
He let out a chuckle, the kind that hardly made any noise and just let out a sharp breath of air. You earned one every now and then, it always made you beam when you could get him to chuckle on patrol. “Yeah? I could’ve switched a long time ago,” Joel murmured, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Tommy offered to let me switch.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, a sliver of your combative nature rising up your throat. You wanted to argue with the older man, inform him that he was wrong.
Joel must have picked up at the way your jaw twitched, your expression twisting. “It’s nice to listen to ya blabber in the mornings,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been. It was almost easy to forget what happened in the Tipsy Bison, the way you watched him beat Jack’s face into a pulp.
You huffed, shaking your head. There was a small smile on your face as the heat continued to rise on your cheeks. “Then why do you act like I’m a stranger when I see you around?” you asked Joel. You scraped your teeth over your lower lip, scuffing the toe of your shoe in the dirt.
Joel’s face fell a bit, his eyes softening as he became serious once more. “You don’t want to be around me anyways, people would judge ya.” It was like he didn’t want to admit it, his voice low and mumbling.
You hummed your disagreement, deciding to be bold and step even closer to the huge man in front of you. He towered a head over most people in Jackson, strong and wide and sturdy. You looked over his tanned, weathered skin, his dark curls that were starting to show age through scattered silver strands. “You don’t seem too bad to me,” you said, nearly a whisper.
You saw how Ellie looked at him like he was her favorite person in the world. If that girl could trust him, then so could you.
Joel’s warmth radiated onto you in the cool evening, the smell of bourbon on his breath and blood on his hands. He shook his head, maintaining the closeness you’d established. “Sweetheart, you know most of the shit they say about me around this town is true.”
You’d figured as much. You’d watched Joel kill raiders without a blink of an eye and jump into action whenever infected approached the high, protective walls around Jackson. The first time you’d witnessed it, his precision took your breath away. Now it was something that you had come to depend on.
“I assumed as much,” you said with a shrug, folding your arms over your chest and tucking your hands under your armpits to keep them warm. “Never mattered to me,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.
You considered going back to the bar to avoid the chill, but you didn’t feel like having to answer questions about you and Joel all night. Everyone would want to know what he said to you out here, would have their own ideas about why he did it. There were a few breaths of silence. “But, I should probably go home.”
“Not gonna go back inside?” Joel asked, nodding his chin toward the Tipsy Bison. His gaze was still focused on you. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, glancing back at the bar. It had lost its appeal.
“Just home, Joel. Have a good night… thanks for protecting my honor and stuff,” you said with a small smile. There was a lightness in the way you spoke, your eyes sparkling in the darkness.
You started to walk toward your house, living in the opposite direction from Joel. “Make sure you clean up those hands of yours, don’t want to have to get another patrol partner any time soon,” you said without looking back, dead leaves crunching under your feet with each step.
You heard his heavy footfalls behind you until Joel fell into step at your side. “Mind helping me out? Not great at first aid,” he said, holding his knuckles out in front of him. They were blown apart.
“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, grabbing one of his wrists to inspect his hand as you walked. His wrist was warm and thick in your hand, he didn’t pull away. The wounds overlapped a number of scars beneath them, a snippet of Joel’s past violence. “Were you trying to kill him or just teach him a lesson?”
“I don’t pull my punches,” Joel said with a noncommittal shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course he didn’t. Joel definitely taught him a lesson. You dropped his wrist, not giving him a response as you followed the path to your home.
Your house was one of the smaller ones, the yellow paint starting to peel off the siding and the wall around Jackson casting a shadow over it in the moonlight. Joel was grumbling about your proximity to the wall as you opened your front door and flicked on the lights.
“Take off your boots before you track mud in, I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” you tell Joel, toeing your shoes off before you head to one of the bathrooms. You can still hear him complaining as his heavy boots hit the floor, his lumbering footsteps going to the kitchen. The layout for all of the homes in Jackson was relatively the same, the sub-development it had been converted from seemed fairly cookie-cutter.
Joel sat patiently at the counter as you brought in the first aid kit, setting it down on the stone countertop and flicking it open. He seemed calm and unconcerned, more like a seasoned veteran to first aid than a novice. “I find it hard to believe that you’re bad at this,” you murmured, opening an alcohol wipe to start cleaning his knuckles.
Joel placed his big, catcher’s mitt hands flat on the counter for you to work. His jaw tensed a few times as you wiped over the largest knuckle on each of his hands. “I’m here for your gentle touch, sweetheart,” he muttered, sarcasm biting his tone and making you laugh.
“I’m not a nurse for a reason,” you said, smearing ointment onto the wounds with your fingertips. You tried to be careful, not applying too much pressure to the irritated skin.
Joel chuckled, watching your movements as you pulled out a roll of gauze and loosely wrapped his wounds to cover them. He flexed his hands as soon as you were finished, the gauze stretching tight when he made fists. “Good as new,” you said, leaning against the countertop. You both looked down at his bandaged wounds, lingering in the closeness before you stepped away.
“Now, you should hold off on bar fights for a while.” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you grabbed a wine bottle from one of the shelves in your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses without asking, methodically going through the motions of opening the bottle and pouring.
It felt like you and Joel were sprinting head-first at a line the two of you had never crossed before. There was a shift from coworkers to something else, and it started the second Joel pounced on Jack. You found yourself studying his face as you handed him a wine glass, categorizing his features as you took a sip. He was handsome, but he always had been—you just didn’t let yourself recognize it.
“No promises,” Joel grumbled, taking a long drink. You watched him swallow, your eyes partially lidded before you remembered yourself. You felt your cheeks and ears heat up as you took another drink, unclenching your fist at your side and focusing on the stretch of the bones and ligaments.
“You really didn’t need to beat Jack up, I can handle myself,” you murmured, your lashes fluttering as you redirected your gaze to Joel.
He just snorted softly, shaking his head. His expression twisted into amusement, the papery wrinkles of his crow’s feet becoming pronounced. Your brows furrowed, your head tilting as you prepared to argue the fact that you could, in fact, defend yourself. “His name is Jake.”
Embarrassment made blood rush to your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. A sheepish smile settled on your features, a giggle working its way through your throat. “He even let me call him Jack like… five times the other day,” you said into your wine glass, a guilty look on your face.
“Poor boy’s got it bad then,” Joel said, smirking at you. His dark eyes appeared even darker in the lighting of your kitchen.
“Don’t worry, I think you scared him enough,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. You picked your glass up off the counter, walking out of the kitchen to your cozy living room.
Joel came to sit on the couch as you stoked a fire to life, burning some of the dried kindling you kept in a bucket near the fireplace to coax the logs to life. You could feel his eyes on your back as you crouched, the flames breathing warmth over you as they crackled. The combination of his gaze, the fire, and the wine you kept sucking down in mouthfuls made a sweat prickle at the back of your neck as you stood up straight.
He made himself comfortable, lounging on the couch with an arm draped on the back of it. He’d brought the bottle of wine, it sat on the coffee table next to his empty glass. One of your eyebrows arched as you sat next to him, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could twist and bring your knees and feet up onto the sofa.
“You really made yourself at home.”
Joel cracked an easy smile, the fire illuminating the deep shadows of scowl lines on his forehead. You felt the urge to smooth them out with your fingertips. “I’ve got a habit of doing that,” he said, his dark gaze sliding to the fireplace. One of the logs popped, sending sparks through the hearth.
There was a lapse of silence where you reached over and filled up his wine glass again. You felt surprisingly comfortable next to him, relaxing your side against the cushioned back of the couch as you faced Joel. “The ladies at the Tipsy Bison called you my guard dog.”
That made him outright snicker. “Yeah? I’m your guard dog, huh?” he asked, clearly teasing. The way his flannel clung to his shoulders was heavenly, wrapped around every well-defined muscle like a second skin. The wine was staining his mouth purple, you were enraptured as his tongue darted out to catch any remaining drops on his lips.
You cleared your throat, blinking as you nodded. “Said I should get you on a leash,” you mumbled, the heat on your cheeks spreading to your neck and ears. You gulped the wine to break some of the tension, your nose scrunching as you swallowed.
There was a shift, it would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention.
Joel stretched a bit, tilting his head back as he finished the rest of the wine in one gulp before setting the glass on the coffee table. When he sat back, he’d moved closer to you. Your knee was nearly touching his thigh, that inch of empty space feeling electric.
“Do you want me on a leash?” he asked, his voice deep. There was something different to his tone, the harsh edges of his voice rounded out more than usual. The question made your breath stutter in your chest. The sincerity in his expression caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, only silence coming out. “If there was anyone who could convince me, it would probably be you, sweetheart.”
You choked on your wine, awkward and clumsy as you sat up straight to prevent it from coming out of your nose. Part of you felt like Joel had turned you inside out as you spluttered, confusion and self-consciousness running rampant.. Finally you got a hold of yourself, sucking in wet breaths with tears in your eyes.
“You okay?” His voice was sweet and soft when he asked, as though he hadn’t caused it. You nodded, waiving off his concern as his paw of a hand grabbed your shoulder. His touch was napalm, igniting your skin through your thin sweater.
“Just surprised me,” you choked out, wiping away the tears with the heel of your hand as you sniffled. Joel’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing along your collarbone over the black fabric. He did nothing but hum his acknowledgement, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.
Another cough rattled through you before you could breathe again. Joel’s eyebrows were raised as he watched you, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You are so full of shit, Joel Miller,” you finally said, pushing his shoulder lightly.
He still was touching you, leaning forward into your space as he did so. Your breaths were shallow, apprehensive and giddy in all the right ways.
“You think I’m full of shit?” he asked, smirking.
“I know you are.” You couldn’t help but flirt, batting your eyelashes and smirking at Joel. You felt electric, lightning just crackling under your skin with the potential thrill of him reciprocating. Sure, you were risking a decent work relationship, but you could get a new patrol partner.
He hummed thoughtfully, his hand creeping toward the back of your neck. The stretch of his fingers to the meat of his palm spanned nearly three-quarters of the circumference of your throat, something that should’ve chilled you to the bone. Excitement sparked in your belly as you swallowed against the firm press of his thumb on your windpipe.
“You don’t seem like an ‘on the leash’ kind of guy,” you murmured, the feeling of the gauze you’d wrapped around his knuckles rubbing against your soft skin making you shiver slightly.
“No, guess I don’t,” Joel agreed, his dark brown gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth and back. It was so quick, but the thrill that followed made you feel like you were glowing. You slicked your tongue over your lower lip, making it shine in the firelight.
The way he spoke made you press your thighs together, the stiff seam of your jeans pressing against you in the perfect way if you shifted how you were sitting. Joel moved as well, his thighs spreading just a bit, a palm quickly smoothing over his lap in an action he probably didn’t think he would notice.
“Sweetheart, we should just get this out of the way.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion before Joel was pulling you toward him, his lips slotting over yours. A soft, startled noise was muffled against Joel’s mouth, shock dissipating quickly as your eyes slid shut. His mustache tickled your upper lip as you accidentally bumped your nose against his.
When he pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Your face felt like it was on fire, a goofy grin gracing your features as your gaze flickered over him.
Joel’s other hand crept onto your jean-clad thigh, a calloused thumb stroking along the frayed hole at your knee. “So, was that weird for you?” you asked like an insecure teenager, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you waited for his answer.
Your heart was pounding, the irrational side of your brain wondering if he was able to hear it. He surely felt it against his palm, his heavy hand resting near your pulse as he kept you close on the couch. He smiled at your question, shaking his head no as he pulled you back in for a second kiss. It was quicker, a messy stamp of his mouth over yours.
“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. If you didn’t know better it almost seemed like Joel felt bashful. The apples of his cheeks were dusted pink, whether it was from the kiss or the wine you didn’t know.
Your eyebrow arched, a grin still on your face. “You’re not old,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. Your hands were pressed into your lap, part of you not knowing what to do with them. You looked up at Joel through your eyelashes before your gaze dragged down his torso and to his jeans. The flannel he wore was thin, the fabric well-worn and not tucked into his blue jeans.
“I should, um, thank you,” you murmured, shifting to put your empty wine glass on the coffee table.
Joel chuckled, still watching you like a hawk that set sights on its prey. “Last I checked, you were just lecturing me about fighting your own battles,” he teased, curiosity shining deep in his chocolate eyes as you got off your couch.
The wine must have gotten to your head, because you would’ve thought you were losing your mind. You moved to stand between Joel’s legs, slowly sinking to your knees on the squishy gray carpet that covered your living room. “I don’t have to thank you if you don’t want me to, Joel,” you murmured, your hands hovering over his thick thighs for a moment before resting on them.
He looked dumbfounded and giddy, his hands already resting on the black, leather belt he wore around his waist. “No, sweetheart, you’ve got a…uh… promising idea,” Joel said with a smile, shifting his legs so they bracketed you and his knees pressed against the coffee table.
You laughed softly, hands roaming up his muscular thighs to where his belt rested just under the soft layer of fat covering his stomach. “You sure? I can always get back up,” you said teasingly, working your fingers under the tongue of his belt and pulling the buckle open. It clinked as it fell off to the sides, you didn’t bother pulling it from the belt loops.
Joel shook his head, leaning back farther into the couch and shifting his hips toward you. “M’sure,” he answered, preoccupied on the way your fingers popped open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.
He was already hard, the outline of his cock pressing against the denim and toward his thigh. You reached into his black boxers, pulling it out of its confinement with a satisfied sigh.
He was big, bigger than any other guy you’d been with. You held the base of his cock, fingers against the curly, dark hair that covered his pubic bone and ran up toward his belly button. It was hot to the touch, the head already leaking precum that followed the path of the prominent veins down his shaft. It was more pink than the rest of him, the head a shade darker than the rest.
You licked your lips, almost embarrassed to find yourself drooling as you braced your forearm on his thigh and kitten-licked at the underside of Joel’s cock. He grunted at the contact, his hands digging into the plush cushion of the couch as his hips twitched toward your face.
“Eager,” you mumbled, a smile on your face as you looked up at Joel through your eyelashes. He was already looking down at you, his lips parted in anticipation and his breaths heavier than they were. You licked the tip of his cock again, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. There’s something about the way that Joel lets a breath out through his teeth that makes you feel like you were set on fire.
You let out a breathy chuckle, wrapping your lips around the head of him and hollowing out your cheeks on your descent toward his lap. It was a lot to take, your eyes watering as you swallowed more of Joel’s cock. His moans and sighs were enough to keep you going, your lips curled over your teeth and your head bobbing up and down.
One of his hands found the curve of your jaw, calloused fingers tracing it before hooking around the back of your head. You were fine with his direction, letting Joel gently press your head down to dictate your speed.
The taste of him was salty and heady, a musk that was distinctly Joel filling your nose as you drooled and sucked his cock. It was slick with your spit, the mix of your saliva and his precum coating your lips and chin. You still had your hand wrapped around the base of him and moving in tandem with your mouth, ensuring you could get everything that your throat couldn’t fit.
“Goddamn, sweetheart, you suck cock like you were made for it,” Joel said, his words punctuated with soft sighs and moans. It made you want to live permanently with his praise, your gaze flicking up to meet Joel’s for a moment.
He was completely blissed out, his head tilted back toward the ceiling as he bit his full lower lip between his teeth. His Adam’s apple kept moving erratically in his throat, like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or not. His hand still cupped the black of your head, half-thought praises falling frantically from his lips. Joel was barely speaking in sentences, some words falling to the wayside of his soft grunts.
Feeling emboldened, you moved your hand away and tried to relax your jaw as your head descended far enough that your nose was pressed firmly against Joel’s pubic hair. It smelled surprisingly clean, just the undertone of musk clinging to the dark, curly thatch of hair as you resisted the urge to choke around his cock.
It was thick and heavy in your throat as you swallowed around him, eliciting groans and his hand pressing tightly against the back of your head. Tears burned in your eyes as Joel’s thick cock twitched in your throat, your hands spread flat on your thighs as he moaned your praises.
Joel barely thrusted his hips toward your awaiting mouth, your eyes slipped shut so you could focus on relaxing your throat. Lungs burning, you finally pulled off to suck in deep breaths. Your hand resumed what your mouth had been doing moments before, taking Joel in your fist and using your saliva as lubrication.
“Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker than normal as the hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your cheek. Your eyes were watery with a few tears tracking down your face, your lips swollen and saliva coating the entirety of your chin.
You smiled, stroking his cock as you struggled to regain your breath. “Didn’t know you were such a good girl,” Joel drawled, dragging his thumb through the saliva on your chin and smearing the pad of it across your parted lips.
“When I want to be.” Your voice was thick and raspy, your eyes partially lidded. Your knees were digging into the carpet, his legs keeping you where you sat.
He smirked at that. Joel gently moved your hand away from his cock, his arms winding beneath your armpits and lifted you back up to the couch. You squealed in the back of your throat, surprised by his strength as he settled you against the arm of the couch and twisted to face you.
Large hands yanked your sweater over your head to reveal the black bra you wore, a soft groan coming from Joel. He didn’t waste time, finding the back closure and popping it open. You helped him, guiding the thin straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside.
“Christ,” Joel mumbled, his thick fingers brushing over one of your nipples. A jolt of electricity traveled down your spine at the touch, warmth blooming on your cheeks.
You were impatient, panties already soaked through and feeling uncomfortable as you popped open the button on your jeans. “Joel, I need you,” you murmured, leaning forward to kiss him as you shimmied your pants and underwear over your hips.
“So impatient,” he muttered between presses of your lips, pulling away so he could look at you properly. The firelight illuminated the curves and shadows that littered your body, stretch marks and scars visible on your skin. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head for a moment, your gaze fluttering away from Joel’s intensity as he just stared at you.
He grabbed your thighs, pulling you toward him until your back hit the couch. “Joel…” you whined as he pressed your thighs apart, his dark eyes focused on your sex.
He spread the slicked lips apart with his thumb, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “Look at you…” he mumbled, hardly even talking to you. He let go of your other thigh, his fingertips teasing your clenching hole to gather some of the wetness dripping down you and smearing it across your clit.
You gasped, your back arching at the contact against the nerves. Joel’s fingers were calloused and thick and warm, drawing tight, slow circles over your clit as his other hand pressed into the crease between your inner thigh and your pubic bone. It kept your hips from squirming away from him.
“You’re so sensitive, sweetheart,” Joel said, the smile audible in his voice. You’d kept your hands over your face, your moans muffled by your palms as you resisted the urge to snap your thighs closed. You felt vulnerable and exposed under him.
“You’re teasing,” you mumbled, your hips twitching in an attempt to get more friction from his calloused fingers. He kept his touch agonizingly light, making you whine and whimper in your desperation for more from him. He chuckled, fingers dipping to tease your entrance again before trailing back up to your clit.
“Let me see ya,” Joel said, his hand leaving the nestle of your thigh to wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. He held both in one hand, keeping your wrists captive against your sternum.
Your breaths were heavy, his fingers strumming over the swollen bump of your clit pulling moans from your throat. Joel’s eyes were partially lidded as he looked down at you, a smirk growing on his face at your desperate expression. “Joel, please,” you begged, your cunt clenching around empty space as you wished he would just fucking fill you up already.
He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his teeth with mock disapproval. “If you’re so desperate, get up and turn around, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you up by your wrists. “My knees aren’t what they used to be, help an old man out.”
You’d normally take that opportunity to make a joke at his expense, but you just let him move you around like a doll. He guided you so you were kneeling on the couch, your chest pressed against the back of it. You arched your back as much as you could, sticking your ass out and hoping you looked pretty as you looked at Joel over your shoulder. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, just standing up behind you and taking his cock in his hand.
His other hand still rubbed over your cunt, smearing your arousal over your swollen lips and onto your inner thighs. Much to your relief, he pressed two thick fingers inside you. The sensation made you groan, resting your weight on your elbows and your knees as you pushed back against his fingers. They slid in so easy you were almost embarrassed.
“You’ll take me just fine, sweetheart,” Joel murmured, approval echoing in his voice. He crooked his fingers to press and massage the spongy spot inside of you, making your mouth fall open and your legs jerk.
You twisted enough to glare at him, Joel covered in shadow from the fire crackling behind him. “Quit being an asshole, Joel,” you said through your teeth, making him chuckle.
“Where are your manners, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a sigh before grabbing your hip with a hand. His wet fingers smeared against your heated skin as he pulled you back a little more, making your back arch like a bow pulled too tight.
He slid the blunt head of his cock between your folds until it tapped against your clit, making him when you whimpered. Joel finally granted you what you wanted, lining up with your entrance and pressing his way in. His cock caught, sliding in so slow that it made you squirm.
“Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down your curved spine, calloused fingers feeling each and every notch of your vertebrae. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched out and so eager as he bullied his way inside of you. The breath you took in was frantic and overwhelmed, it felt as though he was pushing all of the air out of your body. The two fingers he had pressed inside of you as a test didn’t prepare you at all for his thick cock.
You could hardly breathe, you’d never taken a cock this big inside of you without any preparation–but you were too impatient to wait for him to stretch you out on his fingers. You were pathetic, whining and wheezing as your hands clenched against the cushions on the back of your couch.
You’d never felt anything better in your life.
After what felt like ages, Joel was fully seated inside of you. His coarse jeans were pressed against your soft thighs, the two of you breathing heavily like you’d run a marathon.
“You’ve gotta relax. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my dick off,” Joel said, slowly grinding his pelvis against the swell of your ass. You nodded, trying to take in deep breaths and get used to the feeling of being stretched full.
“Sorry,” you muttered as you focused on becoming pliant, your taught muscles slowly releasing. His beard rasped against the back of your neck as he kissed you there, a moment of intimacy to calm you down. It felt like a reward, your breaths slowing as you unclenched around Joel and welcomed him deeper.
The sound you made when Joel pulled out and pressed back in was pathetic. It felt like he was sawing you in half, carving a space for his cock inside of you with each thrust. There was some caution to his movements, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he grit his teeth.
“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against your neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from you, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch as you took whatever Joel is willing to give. Your vision was blurry from the overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes.
The sound of your bodies smacking together filled your living room, the open belt still threaded through Joel’s pants clinking on the off beat. He maintained his pace like a machine, drilling into the gummy spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head.
Your nipples were sensitive, rubbing against the coarse fabric of the couch cushions with every thrust. The noises you made were absolutely undignified, the sounds of someone being fucked completely stupid. He was filling you up so perfectly and the knowledge that it was Joel, your hardass patrol partner who never gave affection to anyone, it made you feel like you’d touched a live wire.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” Joel said, a wide hand reaching around you to fondle your breast. He used it to bring you back, curving your spine so the back of your head was pressed against his collarbone and you looked up at where the wall and ceiling met.
You felt helpless and primal, your mind scattered a million different places. “So good,” you gasped stupidly, hardly able to form words. Your hands grabbed his forearm and fisted in his flannel behind you, an effort to anchor yourself to him.
“I know,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. You were vaguely aware of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth hanging open as you struggled to stay afloat. You were already lost, a sea of sensation pulling you under with only the places where you and Joel were pressed together serving as your lifeline.
Joel’s free hand reached around your belly, finding your neglected clit with practiced ease. You moaned his name like a broken record, your eyebrows furrowing. He rubbed it hard and fast, matching the pace he was rutting into you with. You already felt heat pooling in your lower abdomen.
“Oh god,” you gasped, already shaking from head to toe and your grip tightening around his forearm. “Joel I’m—yes, yes, yes—“
It felt like your whole world shattered as you came with a shout, your muscles convulsing. You clamped around Joel’s cock like a vise, your hips twitching wildly. Pleasure flooded through you from head to toe, warm and fuzzy and all-consuming. The sensation was simultaneously too much and not enough, Joel steadily fucking you through it as your vision went white.
Joel had to pull himself away from you, letting you slump forward on the couch cushion as you came down from your orgasm. You were clenching around nothing, whining at how cruel he was to leave you empty.
The wet, sticky sounds coming from him made you turn your head as you went boneless on the couch. Joel’s cheeks were red as he tugged at his cock, a hand squeezing the flesh of your ass. His dark eyes were focused on you, all loose limbed and spent.
He finally noticed you looking, his mouth open and panting. He took in your fucked out expression, your eyelashes clumped with tears and cheeks red. He’d made a mess of you, the dazed look on your face his undoing as he let out a grunt. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he came, spurting thick come over your ass as his fingers dug into you.
You sighed as you felt his hot come land on your ass and back, pooling in the curve of your spine. You were still floaty and out of it, vaguely aware of him milking the last spurts of his spend from his thick cock.
“Jesus,” he grumbled, swaying for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to you. He gathered you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest as you went perfectly limp.
You nuzzled against his neck, humming your affection as his hand rubbed up and down your back. The motion smeared his come along your skin, his fingers rubbing it in like body lotion. It was like he’d stuck your brain in a blender, the mush of the aftermath hardly able to form more than feelings as you pressed your forehead against his beard.
“I’ll beat up the whole town if this is the thanks I get,” Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. His barrel chest shook beneath you with a chuckle, his hands never straying from your body.
“No one’s gonna want to touch me with a ten-foot pole,” you muttered after a moment of silence, it took you a beat to even process what Joel was saying. He snickered, seeming pleased with himself as you melted deeper into his embrace.
“Good, I should be the only one touching you,” he said, making warmth bloom in your chest. “Unless I’m assuming things.”
You smiled, a sleepy look still on your face as you wound your arms around his neck and snuggled in closer. “So this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing?” you asked, sounding shy as you said it.
Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how many times I had to go home after patrol and take a cold shower just because you bumped my arm or bent over to pick something up? Felt like a damn teenager.”
You giggled, picking your head up to look at Joel properly. He looked so soft and sweet around the edges, that normal fire and flintiness was gone from his dark eyes. “You gonna stay tonight?”
He pulled you in for a kiss, it was sweet and over all too soon. “If you’ll let me,” Joel said, sounding earnest.
You nodded, tucking your head back against his neck. You were starting to succumb to your drowsy state, your eyes sliding shut as you puddled into Joel. You were vaguely aware of him lifting you off the couch, his good-natured grumbling about carrying you up the stairs filling your ears.
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somethinginthewayiam · 2 months
Text
The girl behind the bar (Part 2)
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pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader
warnings: class A banter
words: 3.5k
Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...
a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.
Link to my masterlist
Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.
You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.
It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.
“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.
You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.
“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.
“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.
Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.
You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.
“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.
“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.
“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.
“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.
When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.
"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.
"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.
After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.
"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.
"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.
"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.
“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.
“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.
“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.
You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.
The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.
You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.
It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.
You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.
"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.
Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.
"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.
"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”
You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.
“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.
“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.
“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.
When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.
You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.
You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.
Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.
When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.
You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.
"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.
When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.
Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.
When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.
“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.
You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They’re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.
Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.
“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.
“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.
The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.
“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.
“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.
“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.
“Thank you, but just because they’re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.
Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?
“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.
“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.
“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.
“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.
You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.
“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.
“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.
“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.
“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.
You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.
next: Part 3
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springgirlshowers · 2 months
Note
How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃。•́‿•̀。)⊃
It’s So Sweet
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Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)
CW: none!
A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333
masterlist!
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Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.
Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.
Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.
You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.
Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.
Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.
It’s been years since you and him talked.
Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.
joostklein has requested to follow you.
His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.
You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.
His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.
Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.
It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.
The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.
After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.
You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.
You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.
You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.
However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.
“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”
“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”
“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”
“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"
Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.
He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.
The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.
You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.
You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.
“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.
“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.
“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.
“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”
“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.
“So, you told me you still dance.”
“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.
“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.
“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”
“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.
“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.
“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”
“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.
“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.
“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.
“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.
The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.
The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.
You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.
The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.
“So you’ll really dance with me?”
“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.
“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.
“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.
“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”
“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.
“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.
“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.
“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”
“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.
“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.
“That’s great! You should take it!”
“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.
“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”
You nodded, getting up before he did.
“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.
“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.
“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.
“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.
“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.
“Awesome then, it’s a date.”
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167 notes · View notes
gravehags · 2 months
Text
the fabric of your flesh
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Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader), Cirrus x f!Reader x Cumulus
Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI
Tags: oh god where to begin, threesome, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), making out, serious relationship conversations, consensual infidelity, titty sucking, QUINT STRAP, masturbation, voyeurism, copia in the cuck chair, copia getting his balls slapped for being a little shit
Words: 7,300
Summary: You've always liked the ghoulettes. Maybe a little too much for your own good.
a/n: this fic takes place sometime after the events of sweet treat, a short little fic i wrote which sets the stage for the events of this piece. this is the longest single thing i've ever written so you know. enjoy lmao.
~~~
“Cardinal, what are your thoughts on sharing?”
Copia sets down the document he was reviewing and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ghoulette looming over his desk.
“It’s eh, a nice concept,” he says slowly, eyes flicking from Cirrus’ face to Cumulus seated behind her. “Is there something you…have in mind?”
“Your girl,” Cirrus says bluntly, and Cumulus yanks her backwards to sit in the chair next to her and give her a stern look. Copia’s eyebrows raise and he reaches up to stroke his mustache.
“What Cirrus was trying to say,” Cumulus begins, giving Cirrus another sideways glance, “is that we noticed there’s some um. Tension. Amongst us. And it’s not romantic,” she says in a rush, raising her hands placatingly when Copia opens his mouth, “we have no designs on her heart. That thoroughly belongs to you. What we mean is ah…more physical.”
A silence falls in the office as Copia watches his ghoulettes carefully while trying to fight back a smile.
“I see,” he says solemnly, leaning forward to steeple his hands, “have you discussed this with her?”
“We didn’t want to uh, step on any toes. So no. Not yet, anyway.”
He lets the silence simmer for a moment, watching Cirrus look around the room and Cumulus anxiously rub her hands. When he begins to laugh it makes both of them jump in their seats.
“Ladies,” he chuckles, “as if I haven’t seen your hungry eyes on her at every turn. I am very glad that you asked me for permission but the person you really need to speak to is her.”
A beat passes.
“So…is that a yes?” Cirrus asks, leaning forward.
“From me, sì. Under one condition, naturalmente.”
The ghoulettes look to one another.
“I get to watch.”
Cirrus snickers and Cumulus smiles.
“Oh that was a given, of course. But…you’re open to it?”
He smiles fondly at them.
“Sì, sì, I think it’s only fair to let her experience being with a woman or, eh. Women. Since she came to me untouched.”
“She what?!”
Once again he has to smother his laughter and instead looks at their gobsmacked faces kindly.
“Oh yes, you didn’t know? Despite her inexperience, however, she’s always been rather eh, voracious. And well…she’s not so inexperienced now I suppose, heh.” His eyes briefly unfocus as his mind conjures images of you in a litany of positions, eagerly and loudly taking him deep inside your–
Cumulus clears her throat politely.
“W-what…what were we talking about?”
“Your mate and her considerable sexual appetite,” Cirrus says wryly. Copia flushes deeply and fusses with his cassock, ignoring the bulge in his lap currently being hidden from view by his desk.
“Eh, right, right. Well as I said, this is ultimately her decision so uh, by all means. I think she’s working in the archives today.”
The ghoulettes stand and Cirrus gives him a slight bow before they turn to leave.
“Best of luck, my ghoulettes,” he calls to them as they walk out, surreptitiously adjusting himself. When the door shuts behind him he sags against the back of his chair.
This is going to prove interesting.
“Knock knock.”
You turn to look at the door and see two figures slip into the room - Copia’s ghoulettes, Cumulus and Cirrus. Your face splits in a smile - and your cheeks flush - as you wave the two in.
“Come on in, I’m just going through some of these old purchasing records for the collection. I–sorry, neither of you want to hear about this,” you say sheepishly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
Cirrus hops up to sit on one of the research tables while Cumulus leans on it next to her.
“We’d love to hear about it,” Cumulus murmurs.
You laugh. “You’re both very kind but not even Copia can listen to me talk about this kind of thing without nodding off no matter how hard he tries. I won’t subject you to it. How can I help you, though? Surely you didn’t come down here just to see me.”
“And if we did?” Cirrus purrs, leaning forward and putting her palms on her knees. Cumulus shoots her a sideways glance, lips tugging downwards in a slight frown.
There they are. Those butterflies ricocheting off the inside of your stomach every time you have an encounter with the two of them. The butterflies that make you sick if you allow yourself to linger on them. The butterflies that whisper accusations of infidelity in your ear.
“T-Then I’m sorry to disappoint you, ladies, for not being a more entertaining host.”
“Actually,” Cumulus says, her voice soft, “we wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” you’ve abandoned the stack of record books to fidget with your hands.
“Something um, personal.”
Cirrus hops down from the table and slowly begins to advance on you, lips curving into a smile that shows the points of her canines. It’s predatory and devious and utterly delicious and you’re terrified. She backs you against a bookcase and props her hand above your head, her breath stirring the flyaways on the side of your face.
“Cirrus!” Cumulus barks, “You’re freaking her out, knock it off!”
Cirrus whips around.
“What? I just figured the best way to get what we want is to show her what we want.”
“And w-what do you want?”
Your voice is small, your concentration mainly focused on how you’re going to explain this should any unexpected visitors walk in. Cirrus still looms above you but is pulled away roughly by Cumulus, giving you an opportunity to breathe once again.
“Angel,” the shorter ghoulette breathes and the pet name makes your knees wobble traitorously, “We had a conversation with the Cardinal earlier - about this thing going on between the three of us.”
“N-nothing’s going on,” you whisper, panicked. “What…what did you say to him?”
“This is going really well, ‘Lus” Cirrus groans, collapsing in a desk chair.
“Fuck,” Cumulus swears under her breath, “okay let’s back up. Start with the basics. We like you.”
“…I like you too.”
“Allow me to be more specific. We like you. As in we want you.”
Your mouth gapes but no words come out.
“As in,” Cirrus says, spinning in the chair, “as in we want to do filthy, unspeakable, unholy things to you. And don’t act surprised - we can smell it on you. You want it too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff, cheeks flushed and arms crossed defensively, “I-I would never be unfaithful to Copia, regardless of what you smell on me.”
“We know, hon,” Cumulus murmurs, “which brings us back to the conversation we had with him earlier today.”
“You spoke with him about–about—”
“Sharing you?” Cirrus smirks, “Yeah. And he was open to it, under one condition - and provided that you are open to it, of course.”
“Sharing me? What like some kind of fucked up romantic timeshare situation? He was open to that?”
“Oh, don’t worry - we have no designs on your romantic relationship. We would never do that to the Cardinal. What we propose is purely physical.”
You go quiet for a moment, heart racing.
“What was Copia’s condition? Apart from my consent.”
“He wants to watch,” Cirrus says, lips curling into a filthy grin.
Your cheeks are so hot you swear you’re going to pass out, but no longer from embarrassment or stress.
From arousal.
“The two of you…really want me?”
Both ghoulettes laugh incredulously.
“Is that so hard to believe?” Cumulus says, stepping forward to toy with the loose ends of your hair. “Pretty little thing like you? Always being so sweet to us - to all the ghouls? We would be honored to have you.”
“And have you we would,” Cirrus growls, rising from her seat to advance on you once more, “Over and over until you beg for us to stop. Get you so drunk on pussy you can’t think anymore. All while your beloved mate watches us. So what do you say?”
When your eyes slide closed and head tilts back, a small whimper escapes you and you hear Cumulus sharply inhale.
“Think that’s a ‘yes’, ‘Lus.”
“I want to hear her say it,” Cumulus breathes, “Go on, angel. Tell us what you want.”
“Want…” your voice comes out in a rasp, “want you both. Want you to fuck me until I forget my own name. Want to taste you. And I want Copia to watch as you use my body for your own pleasure. Please. Please I–”
Your words are cut off as Cumulus lunges forward and slides her fingers to cup the base of your skull as her soft lips press against yours. She’s languorous about it - decadent - teasing your mouth open to slide her tongue against yours. You hear Cirrus whine and Cumulus chuckles into your mouth before pulling away. Before you can say a word, the taller ghoulette is upon you, backing you into the bookcase once more. Her kiss is more forceful than Cumulus’ - though no less enjoyable - and you gasp in delight when she slots a firm thigh in between your legs. When your hips rut against her, she pulls back.
“The Cardinal was right,” Cirrus grins, “you are a voracious little thing, aren’t you?”
You laugh, hands brushing her waist.
“He said that about me?”
“Mmhmm,” Cumulus says with a smile, “so…when do you want us?”
“Let me text Copia, tell him to come down here and I’ll let you bend me over a desk right here and now.”
The ghoulettes erupt in laughter.
“Oh no, angel, we’re going to do this right. We want you in a proper bed where we can take our time with you, yeah?”
“Hmm, if you insist,” you say with a pout, cocking your head to the side. “I’ll talk to him and see what works best. Soon.”
Cirrus bends down and drags the tip of her tongue along your lower lip, making you whimper. She steps back, allowing Cumulus to step in and run her lips along your jawline before kissing you softly.
“Can’t wait to give the Cardinal a show,” she breathes. “See you around, angel.”
“Mmhmm,” you confirm, and as soon as they came in, they’re gone. You sigh heavily.
Your conversation with your lover tonight should prove interesting. And you intend on showing him just how thankful you are.
—--
After the two of you converse on the matter - at great length until you’re both exhausted - you’re collapsed halfway on his chest as the two of you catch your breath. As you roll off him, you laugh.
“I gotta be honest, love, I’m a little bit surprised.”
“Hmm?” he says, angling himself to look at you. “What do you mean?”
“This whole thing with the ghoulettes. I never thought you would ever want to uh, share me. Especially considering I have caught you on multiple occasions chastising siblings and ghouls for giving me the once-over.”
“Eh, noticed that, did you?” Copia says, cheeks flushing, “Well, I don’t know. Part of me feels bad for scooping you up before you got a chance to…explore your desires. Especially with women so…” he finishes lamely.
“Uh-huh. Very kind of you. And certainly not because you have a filthy fantasy about watching me get destroyed by two beautiful, infernal women. Surely that has nothing to do with it.”
“Amore!” Copia objects, placing a hand to his heart, “My intentions are pure!”
“Oh, of course,” you smirk, rolling your eyes, “When the ghoulettes approached you, you definitely weren’t thinking about how pretty I’d look getting my titties sucked and pussy ate - my cheeks all flushed and sweaty as I moan wantonly, my eyes on you from the bed while they–”
“Enough!” Copia croaks, head falling back against the pillow. “Cazzo, are you trying to get me to cum in the sheets?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you snark, hand drifting down to cup the length of him. “Though I’m not sure I’ve had enough of you yet, Your Eminence.”
You shift the bedcovers, laying a line of fervent kisses down his chest.
“Again, amore?”
You place several wet kisses to his belly, grinning up at him.
“Don’t say that as if you’re not enjoying every second of this. We spent almost a whole year in each other’s presence without fucking each other’s brains out. That’s a lot of time to make up for, beloved.”
He chuckles, threading his fingers through your hair as you lick a stripe up his cock.
“You’re insatiable, diavoletta mia.”
“That’s what the ghoulettes said that you said about me. As if you didn’t keep me locked in your bedroom for almost three days after the first time we made love.”
“Mmm let’s do that aga–ah!”
You’ve had enough chatter, and show him so by slipping the length of him into your eager mouth. He’s silent for only a moment, hips flexing against you, before he begins babbling praise.
“Perfetta ragazza,” he groans as your head bobs to take him deeper, “you’re too–hnngh–good to this old man. Always knew that–ah–mouth of yours would look good like this. And that tongue, Sathanas…”
You chuckle around him, sliding off just enough to suckle the swollen head, making him moan and fist your hair. He ruts jerkily against you so you hold him down, thumbs caressing his hip bones as your tongue traces up his length.
“You’re right, you know,” he pants, “This–ah–thing with the ghoulettes? S-somewhat selfish reasons. Every time I see you with them I-I picture you in this bed, p-pleasuring each other. I trust them, trust that they will not–ah–overstep–fuck, amore!”
You’ve taken him back as far as you can and swallowed around him, hand gently massaging his balls. His breath comes in sharp whines as he fights to not thrust dumbly into you, chasing his pleasure. He’s close, you can tell by the broken way he spouts his praise, so you double down and hollow your cheeks.
“Cazzo, cazzo, caz–oh dolcezza, j-just like that. A-almost there, fuck baby.”
You pull off him just enough to suck on the head and, resting it on your tongue, your hand rockets up and down the wet length of him. He lifts his head up and looks into your half-lidded eyes and with a groan his cock spasms against your tongue, spurting his seed into your open and eager mouth.
“That’s it, amore, take it,” he sighs, rutting his hips against your mouth, “Fuck, you look beautiful like this.”
Your lips wrap around his softening cock for a moment, sucking any remnants off of him before pulling off with a pop and making a big show of swallowing and sitting back on your haunches. Copia lets out a tired laugh but he’s got a glint in his eye as his gaze roves your naked form.
“Get up here,” he growls, crooking a finger at you. Slowly, you crawl along his body until your breasts are flush against his chest hair and you can feel his breath against your lips.
“No,” he says patiently, raising a finger to tap on his mustache, “here.”
“Again, amore?” you ask, mocking his earlier words.
“Shall I tie you up and hold you down to have my meal instead?” his hands grip at the meat of your ass, urging you upwards. “Come. Here. Now.”
Oh, how you love when the bossy Cardinal comes out.
__
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You’re naked and bent over one of the drawers you’ve hijacked from Copia, rifling through various pieces of lace and silk. The man in question is leaning against the doorway to his bedroom, arms crossed as he observes you.
“What’s the fuss, amore?”
“The fuss–” you say, standing up and putting your hands on your hips, “--is I cannot figure out what I’m going to wear for this…rendezvous.”
“Eh, traditionally I think it’s done in the nude.”
You glare at him and brandish a pale pink mesh thong in his direction.
“You know what I mean, I have to make a…a good impression. Sexy. I can’t just answer the door with my tits and coochie out like ‘hello welcome to the filth den’. I mean, come on, I agonized over what to wear when I went to seduce you too.”
“Did you?” he asks, eyebrows raised as he ambles over to you, “Ah, now that was memorable. Seeing you sitting in my chair in that pretty little virginal cream silk slip, waiting for me. Ready for me. Mmm cara, so eager–”
Abruptly he pulls you backwards against his chest, fingers sliding down your belly before teasing at the heat of you.
“Copia, my love, as much as I appreciate where this is going,” you murmur, “they’re going to be here in twenty minutes and respectfully, I’m not giving them sloppy seconds.”
“Ugh, fine,” he growls, relinquishing his grip on you. “What about that eh, dark blue silk piece you have? With the lace along the neckline? It looks so pretty with your hair.”
Huh. There’s a thought.
You bend over to do some more digging - ignoring the way Copia is insistently grinding against your ass - and locate it with a triumphant noise. You turn in his grip and kiss him firmly.
“My love, this was inspired, I–” there’s something familiar nudging against you and you look up at him, “Don’t get excited so soon my love, I’d hate for you to uh - finish before anything even begins.”
“Ah dolcezza, I might be in my fifties but have I not proven to have the stamina of Zeus himself?”
“Zeus, huh?” you say, giving him a look, “I certainly hope you don’t have his sense of fidelity, too.”
He looks affronted. It’s cute.
“Amore, you question my faithfulness? You question my devotion? I would never touch another. You, on the other hand. Oh, you were just waiting for this opportunity, weren’t you?”
He’s got an evil little grin on his face and you know he’s trying to get a rise out of you but your lips dip down into a frown and your heart sinks.
“Copia, you know I would never…maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh deeply, biting your lip as tears well in your eyes.
“Oh amore mio,” he says softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I was only teasing! If you are not comfortable with this, say the word and I will end it immediatamente. Truly though, it’s okay, huh? People do eh, exploring all the time while still maintaining loyalty to a partner. And I trust both them and you. My desires are inconsequential - but allow me to give you this gift, sì?”
You nod slowly.
“I love you,” you murmur, reaching up to take his hands in yours, “so much. So much it scares me sometimes, you know? I would never, ever want to do anything that would hurt you.”
He kisses each of your hands.
“And I love you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me but if you have any uncertainty, know that I am A-OK with this. Prometto. Nothing will ever come between us but Sathanas you are going to look so lovely spread out beneath them. On top of them. Sideways, even.”
You sniffle and laugh.
“Hmm,” your eyes glaze over for a moment, “what do you think they’re going to do to me, Cope?”
“Anything. Everything. Kiss and lick and suck and fuck…they’re going to take you apart, dolcezza.”
You shiver.
“Getting me all worked up, Cardinal,” you breathe, the tip of your tongue sliding out to wet your lips.
“I would be a poor host if I did not, eh, ready the party favor, hmm?”
Stepping back with a smile, you slide the midnight blue slip over your head and look in the mirror to loosen your hair from its messy bun.
“Perfetta,” Copia whispers, watching you adjust strands so they fall just right, “they will not be able to resist you.”
“And I will not offer any resistance,” you say quietly, turning away from the mirror to face your beloved. You smooth your hands down the front of his black suit and smile.
“I can do this,” you murmur, those familiar butterflies back in your stomach.
“Only if you want to but yes, I believe you can,” he smiles, fussing at your hair. Abruptly, you grab him by the back of the head and slot your lips against his in an aggressive kiss that slowly turns more lazy and soft. You feel a throb from between your thighs as he whimpers when you suck on his tongue and slowly pull away.
“Good luck tonight,” you purr, “don’t give up the game too quickly, hmm?”
He laughs.
“I had plenty of solo practice drawing things out before we got together, thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah?” you say, cocking your head, “Surely you weren’t thinking of me any of those times…”
“Surely not,” he shakes his head with a smile, “Surely there was another curator who liked to smile at me so prettily and shake her ass so tantalizingly whenever she walked in front of me in tight little skirts. That curator was always so kind to this lecherous old Cardinal. Mmm she was so sweet and soft and–eh, what were we talking about?”
“How you used to shamelessly jack off after staring at my ass?”
“No, no, that was the other curator–”
You roll your eyes and reach your hand down to cup his bulge, making him whine and buck into your touch.
“Easy, dolcezza, easy…I am in a fragile state.”
“‘Fragile state’ my ass,” you grin, “I’ve seen you roll off of me and not ten minutes later hop back on like I’m a pony at a state fair.”
“Ah, not entirely accurate,” he says, lifting a pedantic finger, “you are slightly nicer looking than a pony.”
You slap his balls sharply, causing him to double over with a yelp.
“Just for that, I’m definitely going to leave you for a ghoulette now. Maybe a ghoul too. Who knows?”
“Amore!” he wheeze-laughs, comically cupping himself, “be sweet to me, huh? I might not survive tonight after watching what they do with you…”
“Povera mia,” you croon, “to be fair, I might not survive, myself. I–”
Three knocks sound at the door to Copia’s quarters and you exhale heavily.
“Do you want me to–”
“Yeah,” you nod, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself to sit on the end, facing the doorway. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch your beloved amble over to the door and open it, smiling when you hear his familiar odd little noises as he stands aside and gestures for your guests to come in. When the ghoulettes step through the threshold your breath catches in your throat. It’s not exactly that you’d forgotten how beautiful they both are but Sathanas it continuously takes you by surprise. They’re both wearing casual clothing - Cirrus in a large t-shirt and basketball shorts and Cumulus in a floral robe - and an anxious laugh bleats out of you before you can smother it. Cumulus is preoccupied with saying something to Copia but Cirrus hears it and gives you a sly grin and a cocked brow. When Copia extends his arm to gesture towards you, your heart plummets into your stomach.
“He–” your voice comes out thick and croaky, “hey, you two. P-please, come in.”
Cumulus favors you with a soft, reassuring smile as she comes to sit next to you. Cirrus plops down on the other side, a hand pushing into the plush red duvet.
“Nice place,” she says, looking around the paneled room, “really elegant.”
“Not my place,” you admit sheepishly, “this is all him.” You point to Copia, who is busy settling into the high backed chair in the corner of the room. He smiles.
“Don’t let her fool you, her room is just as nice. Lots of blues. You’d like it, Cumulus.”
The aforementioned ghoulette laughs quietly, and when she reaches up a hand to brush your hair off your shoulder you want to kick yourself for the way you jump.
“Nervous, angel?” Cirrus asks, flopping backwards onto the bed and letting her fingers dance at the small of your back. You laugh, too loud.
“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m really fucking nervous.”
“What part are you nervous about, sweetheart?” Cumulus asks, shifting her body to face you.
“Uh…everything? The fact that I’ve never been with anyone but Copia, the fact that I’m committing physical infidelity, the fact that you two are so goddamn beautiful, the fact that the man I love is going to be watching…take your pick.”
“Amore, if my presence is causing you any grief I would be happy to le–”
“No,” you say quickly, and you hate the panic in your voice, “No. Please, I need you here. You know how I am, it’s the anxiety. I want to do this for you.”
“For yourself too, I hope,” Cirrus comments from her spot behind you, “unless we’ve been misreading the vibes…?”
“No. Not at all. The vibes are…absolutely there. Incredibly there, in fact. I-I want this,” you look to Cumulus, “I want you. Both.”
“Atta girl,” Cirrus purrs and you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a filthy grin curling her lips, “come on, angel. We’ll put on a good show for the Cardinal.”
You look over at Copia, the rapid rise and fall of his chest from the promises of what lie ahead making you ache. Cirrus stands, taking off her shirt in a smooth motion and tossing it to the floor.
“C’mon,” she says, shimmying her shorts and underwear off and climbing onto the bed, “get over here.”
Cumulus snorts as she gets up and you turn, crawling towards Cirrus who is resting against the pillows. When you settle in next to her you finally get a good look at her - all long legs and rounded hips and dusky nipples. You know you’re breathing too loud and then out of the corner of your eye you see Cumulus drop her robe. Cirrus’ chuckle at the whine that comes out of you fans your hair, which she idly twirls between her fingers.
“Perfect, isn’t she?” she asks, looking over at the other ghoulette. You nod. Perfect is an understatement. A rounded belly, large, lush breasts and generous thighs between which are nestled a thatch of white curls. Her tail waves lazily behind her as she uses her hands to trace the path of your gaze. She approaches the other side of the bed and slides in behind you.
“This is pretty,” Cumulus comments, fingers brushing the hem of your blue slip, “keep it on for a little longer, hmm? I like the way it looks on you.”
You nod dumbly and shift to lie on your back. When you do, you catch a glimpse of Copia in the corner. His hand rests in his lap, fingers twitching towards his bulge but he doesn’t touch himself. Not yet. His eyes gleam at you. You’ve got your hands folded on your belly trying desperately not to gawk at either of the beautiful, nude women you’re sandwiched in between.
“Can we touch you?” Cirrus murmurs, ghosting a hand over you.
“Please. Please.”
She smiles and when she lowers her hand to brush against your own you let out a deep exhale. All she’s doing is letting her fingertips glide along the backs of your hands, but it makes you dizzy. When Cumulus reaches down to brush along your thigh, your breath hitches in your throat.
“So sensitive,” Cumulus breathes, dragging her fingers up and over your hip to cradle your belly. You had almost forgotten how the two of them sport a cooling touch - something that comes rocketing back when you feel the almost painful tautness of your nipples. Judging from the low noise that comes out of Cirrus, she’s noticed it too.
“Mmm, pretty little thing,” she purrs, reaching a hand to cup your breast and thumb your nipple through the fabric, “Already so excited for us, ‘Lus.”
“Sure is,” Cumulus agrees, her lips tracing the shell of your ear, “Tell us what you want, angel.”
“K-kiss me. Please.”
“Begs pretty, too,” Cirrus chuckles, “Can’t wait to hear more of that later when I’m making you see stars. Go on, ‘Lus. You’re the one who couldn’t stop talking about her lips.”
Your head turns slightly to face the shorter ghoulette, stomach swooping when she leans in and blows against your lips. You shiver comically and with a smile she reaches a hand up to cup your cheek.
“Ready?” she asks, so softly only you can hear. You nod. When she leans in to capture your lips with hers, you feel as if a dam has broken inside you. All your previous hesitation is gone as you bury your fingers into her curls and pull her towards you, tongue dancing with hers. She’s just as decadent about it as you remember from that day in the archives, soft and yielding as you whimper into each other’s mouths. You’re vaguely aware of Cirrus breathing a curse next to you as Cumulus drapes her body halfway onto yours, hands kneading flesh through fabric. And speaking of fabric–
“This has to come off. Now.” Cumulus groans while pulling away for breath. She’s got one hand gripping the hem of your slip and eagerly shimmying it off your body, pausing to let you lift your hips and sit up to expedite its removal. When the offending garment is finally off, Cumulus skillfully tosses it over to Copia, who catches it with a gasp. You see him press the silk to his cheek, savoring the remnants of warmth from your body and the sight makes you feral.
“Well, well, well, look at you,” Cirrus breathes with a small laugh, “just as soft and lovely as we always knew you would be, right ‘Lus?”
You don’t wait to hear Cumulus’ answer before lunging upwards and slotting your lips against Cirrus’. The taller ghoulette is shocked for only a moment before gripping your thigh and hitching it up on her hip. Where Cumulus’ kiss felt like a dance, Cirrus’ feels like a domination and one you are more than happy to yield to. Teeth chase tongues and when her claws bite into the meat of your waist, you whine into her mouth. When she pulls away you pursue her but she pushes you down into the mattress.
“The Cardinal was right about you,” she grins, “Filthy little thing.”
“If you’re this eager for him, I understand him keeping you from the ghouls,” Cumulus murmurs, “Lucky he likes us best. Shame for the boys, but we’re perfectly fine keeping you all to ourselves.”
“Poor Aether,” Cirrus laughs, “wants you so bad and can’t have you. We promise we won’t be mean and tell him anything about tonight. Much.”
Your head is spinning with arousal, the thought of the ghoulettes tormenting the strong ghoul with sordid details about bedding you causing your clit to throb. Before you can linger on it any further, Cumulus drags her tongue over your clavicle, making you shiver. As if coordinated, both ghoulettes slide down your body until their breath ghosts over your nipples. Your cheeks are hot as Cirrus flicks the tip of her tongue out to graze it. Teasingly she drags the muscle around your areola, avoiding where you want her most and making you whimper pathetically.
“Don’t be cruel, Cir,” Cumulus chastises, placing soft, sucking kisses into the meat of your breast.
“Wanna hear how pretty she begs for me,” she says, smoothing a hand over your belly, “Come on angel, tell me what you want.”
“Suck my tits,” you eke out and Cirrus laughs.
“Oh, the Cardinal’s delicate flower knows how to be direct. I like that,” she pulls back slightly and turns her head to address Copia, “She always this good for you?”
“Better,” you hear Copia rasp and another throb thrums from between your legs.
“Well,” she says, turning her attention back to your breast, “good girls always get what they ask for, right ‘Lus?”
“Then quit talking and fucking give it to me already,” you grit out. Cumulus lets out a delighted noise and Cirrus’ claws bite into your flesh before she drags the flat of her tongue over your hardened nipple. When she finally wraps her lips around the bud and sucks, your hand flies to the back of her head. She’s vicious with her attentions, nipping with sharp canines - Cumulus on the other hand returns to sucking bruises into your other breast, her hand drifting further south. When she firmly cups your mound in her palm a sigh escapes you.
“So good,” you murmur, stroking Cirrus’ dark hair. The tall ghoulette pulls off you with a pop and gives you a grin. Gently, you urge Cumulus back up to face you so you can slide your lips against hers, hand kneading her breast. 
“She likes that,” Cirrus breathes, “Loves having her tits played with.”
You moan into Cumulus’ mouth before pulling back for breath. With a firm shove you push the shorter ghoulette flat on her back, dragging your tongue down her sternum. As soon as your lips make contact with her nipple she lets out a whine that goes straight to your cunt. You lap eagerly, rolling her other bud between your fingers as Cirrus settles in behind you to place wet kisses on your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you see Copia with his cock in his gloved hand, panting as he stares at you. You’re filled with affection and, with an immense desire to put on a good show for him, you sit up and swing your leg over Cumulus to straddle her. Cirrus falls on her back, clapping as you lower your mouth to sloppily kiss Cumulus.
“Mmm, initiative,” Cirrus purrs, sitting up and delivering a sharp, pleasurable slap to your ass that jolts you forward, “we like that. Keep going, girls. I’ll be back.”
You pull away and grasp for Cirrus, who slides off the bed and reaches to a bag you hadn’t seen either of them come in with. Before you can see what she pulls out, Cumulus grabs the back of your head and pulls you down to where she can drag her teeth along your throat. Her claws scrape at your scalp and you delightedly let her tug you where she wants you. Something about the way her belly presses against yours makes you flush from head to toe. You feel…decadent. Hedonistic. It’s intoxicating and you want nothing more than to show the ghoulette beneath you exactly how good she’s making you feel.
“I know that look,” Cirrus says with a grin, “go on, angel. Make her sing for you.”
I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.
Instantly, you’re taken back to your first night with Copia and you let out a breathy laugh before looking down at Cumulus, who gazes up at you with pupils blown.
“I’ve never done this before,” you murmur and she smiles.
“You’re more familiar with the terrain than you realize. I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”
You nod and slowly begin to maneuver yourself down her body, kissing and licking every inch of skin available to you. When you settle between her spread thighs and place a kiss to her mound, she lets out a soft sigh. Delicately, you use your thumbs to spread her open and immediately begin salivating when you see how deliciously wet she is. She twitches when your heavy exhale ghosts over her cunt.
“Go on, pretty girl,” you hear Cirrus say encouragingly from behind you, her hands smoothing over your hips. “I’ve got something real special for you.”
As your lips make contact with Cumulus’ slick folds you gasp. Behind you, Cirrus drags the head of what you assume is a silicone cock through your own folds, causing you to arch your back. When you pull away to look back at her she chides you.
“Keep your eyes on the prize, angel. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Well. You don’t need telling twice.
With as much fervor as you kissed her, you slide your lips and tongue over her folds, delighting in the way her hand flies to your hair. She’s right, of course, you’re familiar with the general terrain and when the tip of your tongue grazes her swollen clit, she gasps your name. From behind you, you feel the head of the cock drag through your folds again and gently, Cirrus eases the thick tip inside you. You whine into Cumulus’ cunt, hungry for more, but Cirrus holds your hips steady to keep you from bucking backwards.
“Sweet–ah–sweet Aether…used his quintessence on this strap, you know that? Makes it feel like it’s actually a part of me. Poor ghoul had n-no idea who it was going to be used on. Keep going, angel. Want to see you t-take her apart.”
Panting and desperate for her to fill you up, you lower your mouth again to lap up Cumulus’ slick. When your tongue eases inside her she lets out a loud, long moan.
“Good girl,” Cirrus breathes, “g-good–fuck.”
Fuck is right. With agonizing slowness she pushes the strap in and your jaw hangs open at the stretch. Copia is nothing to sneeze at, and he’s thick too, but this you feel in your guts. Your arms wobble as they struggle to hold you up and when Cirrus bottoms out with a groan you let out a pathetic whimper.
“H-how does she feel, Cir?”
You can hear Cirrus panting roughly behind you, hands smoothing over your ass.
“Unholy fucking hell, ‘Lus, hot and wet and t-tight, fuck. I–”
You squeeze around her as hard as you can and Cirrus cuts off with a sharp gasp and a broken moan. When you crane your head to look at her over your shoulder, you give her a grin and she lets out a breathy laugh.
“Oh Cardinal, she’s wicked.”
You hear Copia let out a low chuckle from behind you and it makes your cunt spasm around Cirrus.
“Finish your task, angel,” she coos and you glance up at Cumulus who looks down at you and wets her lips. Feeling deliciously full of both Cirrus’ cock and renewed fervor, you lower your head and slowly drag your tongue though her folds. 
“That’s it,” Cirrus murmurs, slowly pulling out of you then pushing back in, “c’mon baby, show her how much you like her.”
So you do.
You’ve got your hands wrapped around Cumulus’ generous thighs, fingers digging hard enough to bruise as you alternate between fucking her with your tongue and circling her clit. Cirrus’ thrusts are deep and forceful, pumping in and out of you while streams of filth slide out of her mouth. 
“That’s it, honey,” Cumulus whimpers from above you, burying her fingers in your hair and bucking her hips against your mouth, “so good for me, right there, right–fuck!”
Her praise ceases as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck. Cirrus moans and her pace quickens, fucking into you with less and less abandon. From behind you you hear a strangled amore mio and you know that Copia is close. The visual of his gloved hand wetly sliding along his cock, the taste of Cumulus beneath you, and the mounting pressure of Cirrus’ cock inside you make you feel like you’re going insane. Your moans are muffled, your mouth thoroughly occupied with suckling at Cumulus’ swollen clit while she cries out above you.
“Please, please, please,” she whines, “so close, so fucking close honey, don’t stop!”
You double down and take a page from Copia’s playbook, taking a finger and teasing at her entrance. Slowly, you sink it in knuckle deep and crook it searching for that sweet spot. When she screams your name you know you’ve found it, delighting in the way her cunt clenches around you. When she shatters, she pulls your hair hard enough to hurt but you don’t care, not with the way she whimpers your name like a prayer. The sounds she makes only inflame your passion further and you want nothing more than to wrench another orgasm out of her but suddenly she’s pushing you away. Taking the hint you pull back and suddenly Cirrus’ hand wraps around your shoulder.
“My turn,” she snarls, yanking you towards her and causing your back to arch. Her steady thrusts become sharper, harder, as she pounds into you and makes you see stars. Wrapping her hand around your throat she pulls your back flush against her.
“Look at him,” she growls, her breath hot in your ear, “Look at what you do to him.”
You turn your head to look at your beloved and a gasp hiccups out of your throat. He’s hunched in on himself, gazing up at you with his paints streaked down his face and his mouth hung open in a moan. His hand squeezes at his reddened, leaking cock, hips fucking upwards into his fist. Cirrus holds you in place, her hand seeking your sweat-slick breast to pinch sharply at your nipple as she fucks ruthlessly into you. You cry out, pushing backwards to meet her thrusts.
“I know you’re close, angel,” she groans, hips jackhammering into you hard enough you can’t catch your breath, “mmm fuck gonna–ah–gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. Gonna–ah-ah-fuck, baby!”
“Give it to me, Cir,” you whine, “just like that, j–Copia!”
You cum with a cry, watching as Copia spasms, painting his fist and chest with rope upon rope of his seed. Behind you Cirrus thrusts three times more before you feel her fill you up. You’re trembling in her tight grip as she empties herself into you, her forehead pressed against your shoulder. Copia is looking at you with nothing but pure adoration as you struggle to catch your breath. A silence settles among the four of you and you break Copia’s gaze to look down at Cumulus.
“Beautiful,” she breathes with a wide smile, “fucking beautiful. Look at you.”
You let out a short, delirious laugh and Cirrus mouths weakly at your shoulder.
“You were perfect,” she murmurs into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “just like we knew you’d be. Wasn’t she, Cardinal?”
Copia’s head is tipped back against the chair, eyes trained on the ceiling.
“She always is. Always. Amata mia.”
Gently, Cirrus extricates herself from you and the slide of the rigid silicone dildo as it exits your cunt makes you gasp. Weakly, you crawl forwards to Cumulus’ embrace and collapse next to her. Cirrus follows after a moment, slipping in beside you.
“So, how was it?”
Your gaze lingers on the canopy above you and you tip your head to lean against Cumulus.
“Wow,” you say with a dazed smile, “women, huh?”
Cirrus barks out a laugh. You feel your eyelids get heavy as you watch Copia get up and go into the bathroom.
“Don’t fall asleep on us,” Cumulus nudges you, “we’re not done with you yet.”
You whine but you can’t deny the delicious ache coming from between your thighs.
“I’m gonna need a snack, then,” you say with a sigh.
“Anything you want, bellezza,” Copia says, returning to the bedroom, half cleaned up, “I am your servant.”
Hmm. Now that’s a thought.
“Bring me some grapes, a bag of chips, and a pint of ice cream and I’ll show the girls how pretty I look when I bounce on your cock, huh?”
Cumulus lets out a soft gasp and Cirrus’ eyebrows shoot up.
“What flavor?” Copia rasps out, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants.
Mmm. You could get used to this.
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hunnyswift · 24 days
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chapter one: hey, cowboy
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summary: in which jake seresin is called back to san diego for a mission and meets the perfect girl…
chapter cw: profanity, use of alcohol, sexual innuendos, age gap
18+ minors DNI
◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟
if there was one thing you loved , it was the hard deck. the perfect bar for you and your two best friends to work at and constantly drink at. the three of you had moved to san diego not that long ago , and upon exploring where you lived , you found the bar right down the road from your shared beach house.
at first , it was just a place for you three to wind down after a long day or party until the sun came up on a weekend. nathalie was the first one to apply to be a bartender , and then mckenna , and finally with some convincing , you.
tonight , however , it was only nathalie and penny behind the bar. you and mckenna had the night off seeing as it was a wednesday night. it wouldn’t get so busy that all of you would need to be on the clock.
so , around seven you and mckenna made your way there with tupperware in your hands — dinner for the ladies behind the bar. nathalie had been working all day , so you knew she was most likely starving , and how could you bring food for her and not your favorite boss ever?
“we brought sustenance!” mckenna announced as she burst through the front doors , making her way behind the bar to kiss and hug both nathalie and penny.
“we had so much left over and knew you two were working so hard and long we couldn’t not,” you explained , handing the boxes over and smiling when you see them pop open immediately.
penny thanked you both after eating a few bites and then turned around to help the next guest. for a wednesday evening , it was pretty busy. “what’s going on tonight?” mckenna asked for you , eyes moving around the crowd of uniforms.
“karaoke , duh,” you joked ; it was your idea to bring karaoke to the hard deck. though it took a lot of convincing and heckling penny , she ending up agreeing about a month ago. it’d been a hit so far , but nothing like the crowd tonight.
nathalie looked up , still shoveling the lasagna into her mouth as much and as fast as possible before she had to get back to work. “mm! bunch of pilots and sailors are back right now. don’t know why or for what. but that’s why there’s so much khaki floating around,” nathalie explained , pointing around with her fork.
“meow!” mckenna purred , grabbing the drink in front of her — penny quickly and slickly sliding hers and your drink onto the bar.
“oh please, i bet they’re all dogs that last five minutes in bed. don’t waste your time , kenny,” you laughed , sipping on your own drink.
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jake seresin and bradley bradshaw did not like each other. that much was clear from their first interaction of the night — going back and forth was their thing. they were competitive and snarky.
but after years of knowing each other and being sent all over the world together , they’ve come to an agreement. the only thing in common these two had was the fact that they loved women. luckily enough for them , they didn’t have the same type , not once going for the same lady before.
so , when their group had settled down and jake noticed two gorgeous young ladies walk into the bar and start chatting with penny and the bartender , he nudged bradley and nodded their way. bradley’s eyes followed , landing on yours.
your lips curl when you notice the two men staring and you jolt your head , silently asking them what the fuck they wanted. bradley laughed , patting jake on the back as he ‘called’ your friend.
“mustache and ken doll headed our way,” you moaned quietly to mckenna and nathalie , turning back in your seat to not face them any longer.
mckenna doesn’t try to hide her exciting , looking over her shoulder quickly and smiling when she saw the aforementioned mustache. “hot!”
“ladies,” bradley spoke first , sliding in between you and mckenna while jake stood next to you with a smile.
“the name’s hangman,” he spoke , holding his hand out to you to shake. you grimaced but took his hand in yours nonetheless.
“i’m gonna go back to work,” nathalie chuckled , eyeing the two of her friends. mckenna obviously falling for her guy’s smile and charm while you looked miserable. “love you!”
“love you too,” mckenna replied easily as you groaned the same response out.
“wanted to stop over here and say hi , introduce myself , y’know?” hangman explained , waving to the area around you. “haven’t seen ya here before.”
“is that a question?” you wondered , holding back a chuckle at his tone. you’d never seen him before. “because i’ve never seen you either , and i work here so…”
“is that so!” hangman smiled , sitting down in the empty bar stool next to you, “cause i was just over there saying to my buddies how i feel like i’d remember a face like yours.”
“got anything better than that, cowboy?” you raised your eyebrows , recognizing his southern accent easily. he sounded like home in a way. hangman laughed , never having been called out before. “like a real name? not some call sign?”
“jake seresin at your service , ma’am,” he corrected his earlier statement , reaching his hand out again as a fresh start.
“wonderful,” you smiled , introducing yourself as well. “you buying me a drink? or just flirting for the fun of it since you probably haven’t seen a woman since the eighties?” you questioned , shaking your now empty glass in your hand.
“what’ll it be? call your friend over here again,” jake instructed , nodding to nathalie , who hadn’t strayed too far. “oh , and i’m not that old!”
you laughed , letting your head fall back. “no? that’s what most forty year olds say.”
“alright , alright. i am not forty! do i look forty?” jake started to sound worried , only causing your laugh to grow.
“lielie , will you grab me another please? on mr. hangman’s tab!” you giggled at nathalie , handing your glass to her.
“top shelf tequila like usual?” nathalie joked , looking to jake to see his reaction , which was hard considering all he was doing was looking at you with a goofy smile.
jake reached his hand out for a second , stopping nathalie from moving to grab any liquor. “actually , you might wanna check her id. how old are ya , sweetheart? twelve?”
“ugh! you wish , perv!” you jested back , pulling his hand back from nathalie, “i actually am twenty-one , for your information.”
jake laughed with you , noticing how your hands were still connected. “alright fine , grab her whatever she wants , lielie,” he nodded kindly.
nathalie looked between the two of you , shocked someone else had called her by the nickname you made for her. “yes , sir.”
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since jake had come up to you , and mustache had reached mckenna , you’ve downed several drinks. mustache’s sung a few songs , and nathalie clocked out. but now , rather sitting at the bar , you three had joined the guys and their pilot friends. it was going well.
“no , no! i could slaughter you in a game of eight-ball!” you shouted , pointing at coyote , jake’s closest buddy within the group. “i swear on my mother!”
“oh no , she’s bringing up her mama,” mckenna giggled , sipping on what seemed like her hundredth drink of the night , leaning into bradley’s arms.
coyote let out a belly laugh , standing up and grabbing a pool cue. “game on , kid.”
jake let go of your hand , allowing you to stand up freely and get to work. “lielie , how much you make tonight?” you asked , picking out a pool cue of your own — the same one you used every night.
“um — i don’t know , like $350?” she replied , eyebrows furrowed.
“alright , coyote. i’ve got $350 on this game. you okay with that?” your smile was playful , but you were completely serious.
mckenna sobered up for a second. “babe , are you sure?”
“yeah , y/n/n , i don’t know these guys well enough to bet my tips for the night,” nathalie agreed , her lips tight.
you flash them both a look. “how many nights have i beat maurice in a row?” you played against one of the older regulars that came in all the time , working or not. it was a tradition at this point.
“like a lot?” mckenna guessed.
“honestly , i love it!” phoenix , the only female pilot of the group spoke up. “machado , i’ll add a hundred to the pot. i don’t think you’re winning this one.”
“i’ll rack them up,” he laughed , setting the game up.
“sweetheart , you’ve got a lot of confidence,” jake whispered into your ear , smiling at the fact that you’ve gotten more comfortable with him and his buddies.
you turn into his arms. “jacob , it’s not confidence. it’s skill , and it speaks for itself. just watch. i know you’ll enjoy it,” you whispered back , kissing his cheek before pushing him back into the booth.
the pool game starts , people choosing their sides and who their betting on , throwing their own bets in the mix. “coyote , all you need is to make every ball the next round and for me to miss this one. really , shouldn’t be too tough,” you chided as you lined up your shot , the last of yours before the eight ball. you sink the twelve ball in , looking up at your opponent and shrugging. “oops?”
“that’s my girl!” jake cheered , clapping his hands together with a laugh.
“coyote , man , she’s killing you,” fanboy jested , cracking up with payback and phoenix. bob laughed quietly with them , popping a couple more peanuts into his mouth.
“shut up!” coyote warned , clearly stumped by the fact that he was being beat at his own game by some twenty-something year old.
“c’mon , babe! you’ve got this!” mckenna yelled , shaking nathalie in her arms. “we’re winners!”
you relocated around the table , calling the pocket before getting low and aiming again. “sorry , coyote. it wasn’t meant to be for you,” you apologized , shooting your shot and making the ball in. “but it looks like nathalie made $700 tonight!”
the whole group jumped out of their spots , jake grabbing you in a hug before passing you off to your friends as he went to rub it in coyote’s face.
“i love you , woman,” nathalie beamed , jumping up and down with mckenna as they shimmied towards you , ‘making it rain’.
“this is why you’re my best friend , i swear,” mckenna howled , hugging you tightly. “we getting drunk tonight!!!!”
taking your drink back from jake , you smiled. this was fun. usually , you , mckenna , and nathalie stuck to yourselves or hung around with penny and the older gentlemen that frequented the hard deck. this was worth it though.
“wanna celebrate?” you asked , raising an eyebrow at jake as you finished your drink , nodding to the bar.
“c’mon , sweetheart. i’m buying!” jake wrapped his arm over your shoulder , beginning your walk to the bar. he let you sit down , standing behind you closely.
you were willing to wait patiently for penny to make her way to you , knowing she was still busy despite it being near bar close. but you could feel jake pressed against your back , his lips ghosting down your neck , telling you how good you looked beating coyote. “let’s celebrate at home! guys , we’re afties at the house! meet you there!” you announced to everyone still hanging around the table , throwing a hundred on the bar for penny and yanking jake by the hand out the building.
◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟
ooohh first chapter is out! show it some love please<3
this is also not proof-read! i’ll going thru it when i put the next chapter out , but until then y’all are blind to potential typos and fuck ups
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holylulusworld · 4 months
Text
I’m your daddy now (3) - Lloyd Hansen
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Summary: You reached the end of the rope.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader (plussized)
Characters: Ari Levinson
Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, groping, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), some fluff
A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories. 
Catch up here: TOL - I’m your daddy now (2)
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Ari exhales sharply. He’s not amused by Lloyd’s behavior.
The mustache-wearing bastard is shamelessly groping your ass while purring dirty nothings in your ear. “Plump. Sweet. Begging for cream.”
“Lloyd!” You swat his hand away and straighten your skirt blouse. “We have company. You can’t do such a thing while people are around.” You pucker your lips before striding toward the door. “Remember, we have a business to do.”
Lloyd licks his lips. He watches you walk out of the room, groaning loudly. “A hell of a woman I got myself.”
“Congrats,” Ari rolls his eyes. He knows about Lloyd’s endless stream of women roaming his bedroom. “For how long?”
“I’m gonna marry that chubby bug,” Lloyd grins before he tugs at his pants. He’s got a raging hard-on thanks to the woman ruling his mind and office. – You. It’s even worse since he got a taste of you and your perfect cunt. “She’s perfection.” Lloyd grins as he sniffs at his fingers. “She’s got a cute little shit too. Gotta be a daddy for the poor boy. His old man is a deadbeat.”
“Perfection,” Ari doubts that Lloyd will keep his word and marry you, but he says nothing. He came here for a reason, not to fight with Lloyd. “You should be careful if children are involved.
“I told you,” Lloyd grits his teeth, “I’m going to be a daddy for the little shit. I consider renaming him. Lloyd Jr. would be so cute, don’t you think?” He nods to himself. “I only need to convince my sunshine.”
“Lloyd, I came here for a second time because you want to discuss the details of my request later. I assume you had your hands full with your assistant,” Ari crosses his arms over his wide chest. He quirks a brow and waits for Lloyd to grovel.
“What can I do for you, my sexy friend?” Lloyd chuckles. He just loves to toy with people. Even more, since he found you. “I thought everything got discussed last time. My sunshine and I will join one of the dance classes and check your girl out. Maybe she needs a little money for her studio.”
“Lloyd, this is different from the other girls I paid. I want her to be mine,” Ari hesitates to talk about his feelings to a man offering women to wealthy men. He doesn’t believe Lloyd understands the concept of love.
“Love sweet love,” Lloyd smiles dopily. “I’m telling you, spring let me lose my mind. If only she wasn’t wearing those tight pants when I met her. I wouldn’t be so into that slutty little cupcake I call my own.”
“You are disgusting,” Ari sneers at Lloyd’s behavior. “I’m talking about love, not your libido. You’re lucky if your assistant doesn’t cut your balls off in your sleep.”
“That’s actually a great idea,” you say while walking back inside the office. “I got coffee for you, Mr. Levinson, and a disgustingly sweet coffee monstrosity for you, boss.”
Lloyd dips his head to glance at Ari. “I love it when she calls me boss. Gets me rock-hard every time. You wouldn’t believe how much I’m struggling to not have my way with her right now.”
You place the coffee on the small coffee table. “Lloyd!” You tut and glare at him when he tries to grope your ass. “Christ, you’re unbelievable. We have a client here. He wants our help.”
“All work and no fun,” Lloyd glumly replies. He pouts while staring at your tits. You decided on a light summer dress with a high neckline to avoid catching Lloyd’s attention. No such luck. “I wonder if I can make you forget about business.”
“Boss, do your job,” you point your index finger at him. “I already got a child to take care of. I don’t need a second one.”
“I like that one,” Ari throws in. He slowly sips his coffee while watching you and Lloyd interact. “Can we get back to my problem now?”
You nod and turn to leave Lloyd and Ari to their business. You’re still not used to the kind of business you’re involved in since you accepted the job offer. Lloyd takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass.
“Lloyd!” You huff and stomp away. It’s not worth it to get mad at him. He’ll only get horny the more you yell at him. Lloyd is a kinky bastard after all. “I should cut his balls off one day. But not his cock. It’s the best part of him.”
“You forgot my mustache,” Lloyd calls after you. “You know you love it, sunshine.” He turns toward Ari. “She loves it.”
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“So…” You watch Lloyd rummage around his office. He curses under his breath as he goes on his hands and knees to look for something under the couch. “What are you doing?”
“I dropped something important,” he stretches his arm to reach something under the couch. You step closer to get a better look at his ass. It’s now or never. Payback for all the groping.
Smirking you grab his ass with both hands, groping him roughly through his slacks. You have to admit, he’s got a nice ass.
“Sunshine,” he purrs. “We don’t have time to get down and dirty. I need you to help me with something.”
“I swear,” you slap his ass, “if you get your dick out again and call it a surprise, I’ll follow Ari’s suggestion and cut it off.”
Lloyd huffs as he slowly gets back up. He hastily stuffs something in his pocket before looking you up and down. “He said balls, not my dick,” Lloyd smirks when you take a step back. “I see you can’t keep your hands off my perfect ass, huh? Do you want to feel me up some more?”
“We wanted to talk about your client. You remember your client, Ari Levinson, right? You mentioned a dance class and today he talked about it again. What is your plan now?”
“We’ll attend his chosen girl’s dance class and will find out more about her. That woman tries to make my job harder. She’s not on social media and pays cash,” Lloyd pouts. “I thought this would be an easy job, but no, Ari doesn’t want me to threaten her business. It would’ve been so much easier if he just played the knight in shiny armor after manipulating her business.”
“You’re so romantic.”
“When did you have the time to buy a book?”
“Romance is for losers, Y/N. I believe in horniness and my pussy-detector,” Lloyd points at his crotch. “If little Lloyd likes you, it’s true love.” He grins, proud of himself. “Come on, let’s get home. The little shit is waiting for his daddy to read him one of the new books I bought.”
“It’s called online shopping,” he huffs. “I don’t have the time to waste my time in a dusty bookstore.”
You quirk a brow. After you let him do unspeakable things to you for the first time, Lloyd is unstoppable. He wanted you and your son to move in with him. Lloyd even hired an interior designer to turn two of his guestrooms into a bedroom and a playroom for your son.
If only you could believe him that he wants to be more than the guy stuffing your pussy.
“Fine,” you sigh, too tired to argue. “The babysitter wants to go home too. Let’s go. We still need to talk about Mr. Levinson and your plan.”
He wraps one arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. “Does going home include a little action for the tiger in my pants?”
“I thought it was a python?”
“Who cares?” He groans. “There’s a whole jungle in my pants and it all belongs to you, sunshine…”
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“…and then the little ant kicked the evil toad’s ass,” Lloyd closes the book, a big smirk on his face. “Son, how did you like the book?”
“Cool,” your son gasps. He’s still mesmerized by all the voices Lloyd imitated while reading the book he found online to your son. “I like the ant the most.”
“Tomorrow, we will read about his next adventure. I bet he’ll kick more ass.” Lloyd runs his hand over your son’s head, gently patting the little boy. “…can’t believe that deadbeat left a cute little shit like you.”
“Lloyd!” You tut. “You promised to stop calling my son little shit!”
“Our son,” he corrects. “How about you wait in our bedroom for me and the python fighting my pants? I got something to discuss with Lloyd Jr.”
You kiss your son’s forehead and wish him a good night. He refuses to sleep in your bedroom since he has his own room at Lloyd’s house. “We won’t rename my son. This is my last word.”
“If only…” Lloyd grins. “Now…go to bed mommy. We men need to talk about something…”
You reluctantly leave the room, looking over your shoulder before you reach the door. “No swear words, Lloyd.”
“I wouldn’t dream of swearing next to our baby boy.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I love you too, sugar cake,” he grins. “I’ll be right with you.”
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The moment you are out of the room Lloyd gets something out of his pocket. He shows it to your son, smirking.
“What do you say, little shit? Will she like the ring?”
Tags in reblog.
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azriels-shadowsinger · 7 months
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what do you think about this prompt
” you’re the most jealous woman i know ”
” you know other women? ”
with cassian😍
Cassian x jealous!reader
wc: 500
a/n: posting a blurb from my drafts while i finish working on some prompt requests, enjoy💗
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You and Cassian were out in Velaris and had decided to stop at a cafe to get hot chocolates. After picking what you want, Cassian goes to the checkout counter to pay while you find a table outside. You sit at a small table in the corner of the patio and wait for him to come join you. After a few minutes, you look inside to see what is taking Cassian so long. You see him standing at the counter with your hot chocolate, talking to the worker who seems to be standing way too close and giggling way too much. Immediately you get jealous, but you just keep watching. It’s obvious that Cassian is just trying to be nice, but the barista is not catching the hint. Eventually, you knock on the window to get his attention, causing them both to turn. The barista’s face goes red as she backs away from Cassian, and Cassian gives an apologetic look and hurries out to you.
He hands you the now lukewarm hot chocolate and sits across from you.
“You seem to have had a nice conversation in there.” You say with a completely calm voice, which only worries Cassian more. He knows how jealous you get.
“I’m sorry, y/n. She just kept talking and I didn’t want to be rude.” He explains. You just stay silent and take a sip of the hot chocolate.
“You were in there talking for so long that our drinks are cold.” You set the cup back on the table and stare at him.
“I can go order us new drinks. Don’t w-“ You cut him off.
“Oh, so you want to go back in there and talk to her some more? I don’t think so.” You snap at him and hurry to stand before walking inside. Sure, you were probably overreacting, but it was hard not to when half of Velaris was constantly drooling over your mate. Sometimes you just got fed up with it.
When you return, Cassian is sitting there with a sad look on his face, like a child who got put in timeout. You set his new drink in front of him, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Even if you are upset at him, you always still want to do things that make him happy, like extra marshmallows.
“Thank you.” He murmurs.
A few moments pass while you two silently drink your cocoas. Eventually, you look up at him, and you can’t help but crack a smile at the hot chocolate mustache on his face.
“I can’t stay mad at you. You’re too cute.” You giggle, taking another sip of cocoa.
“You are the most jealous female I know.” He chuckles, letting out a breath of relief.
“You know other females?” You narrow your eyes and stare. His eyes go wide with panic.
“What? No! I didn’t mean… I’ve never met a female before!” Obviously not true, but Cassian was never good with words when he panics. “The only female I ever interact with is you I promise!” This only makes you laugh.
“Mor and Amren might be upset to hear that you won’t be speaking to them anymore.” You giggle, dropping the upset tone. Cassian lets out a breath and chuckles, wrapping an arm around you.
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poor cass can’t ever catch a break
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vampirememory · 1 year
Text
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Intuitive PAC: What is your next partner's appearance?
Hi guys! Here is a simpler, intuitive pick a card today about what your next partner's appearance may be.
Now go ahead and pick a pile 💖🎻🪿
Disclaimer; remember that people are very vast & unique, meaning that there's a chance that this reading won't resonate. Just make sure you use discernment and let go what doesn't resonate 💖.
Also, the PAC's intentions was to be for your next partner, but it is possible to ask for your future spouse/there is a possibility they may be your future spouse, but take what resonates as it's different for everyone.
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Pile one is the silver & pink tiara, pile two is "baby", pile three is the hello kitty radio, and pile four is a heart.
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Pile One
♡ Brown hair and blue eyes.
♡ Somewhat of a shaggy hairstyle. Their hair may touch slightly below the ears (regardless of gender). Might have a blue or teal streak in their hair or previously had one (or will have one in the future).
♡ Baggy clothes, streetwear. Might also have somewhat of an interest in cyberpunk.
♡ May have a unique facial feature (ex: uniquely placed freckles, moles, or skin dis/coloration). Might also have acne marks or scars that you find to be attractive.
♡ I'm seeing paler skin, although darker skin is a possibility. I'm seeing that you find their skin very attractive regardless. Their skin has somewhat of a natural glow. Vitiligo may be in the picture.
♡ Taller, more lanky (regardless of gender).
♡ This is the shortest pile, spirit/the universe/whoever you believe in may not want you to know specifics about this person.
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Pile Two
♡ Muscle man. Might have somewhat of an appearance of those strong guys from circuses ? (Unsure of the name, but a very stereotypical, burly & muscular man with a full beard/mustache and tattoo combo).
♡ Might have lengthy hair. Their hair may reach past their hips.
♡ I keep seeing/hearing body hair, they have a lot of it (I'm seeing this regardless of gender. Women may feel more comfortable letting their body hair grow OR may constantly be complaining about it/shaving it. She might shave in some areas and not shave in others (ex: regularly shave her legs, but her arms are unshaved)). Might have something characteristic like sideburns or a unibrow (ladies w a unibrow: btw I love you you're so pretty ily genuinely)
♡ Brown hair or darker colored hair.
♡ This particular person might be Asian, specifically hearing Middle Eastern or South Asia (Pakistan? India?). Also possibly Egypt or North African.
♡ They have medium toned skin. Obviously, the countries listed are a lovely spectrum of skintones and there is not one particular skin tone for one region, but they are more than likely brown versus being white or black.
♡ lovely voice I heard, not particularly a physical characteristic but you'll love their voice.
♡ might have very nice...feet? You'll like their feet, something about them is lovely in a foot model way but also sturdy, or they may have a certain gait or way of walking you find to be attractive.
♡ may smell distinctly of roses or some other flower, like jasmine. A very pungent, beautiful flower that you don't forget (I'm being reminded of night-flowering jasmine, which in my household is known as "lady of the night").
♡ People here are more than likely asking for a woman. If you're trying to find out about a dude, they might have a goatee ?? They may appear to have somewhat more feminine traits; his eyelashes are beautiful holy shit !!!!
♡ lovely, lovely eyes. May be very dark but you almost get lost in them, very beautiful. Or they can be a unique shade of brown or green, you love them regardless.
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Pile Three
♡ excellently fashioned. Specifically said. You might really like their fashion taste. Best dressed (being brought to the best dressed game on animal jam, they may model or just have top notch fashion, always on top of trends or may wear things that are classy, chic).
♡ may be genetically French. Not seeing them being from France (obviously if you are in Europe this is more likely, take what resonates), but a similar appearance to Pile One's person.
♡ stronger, square jawline.
♡ I'm being brought to an image of some tiktoker, but his female version for videos? She usually has freckles from the filter & longer brown hair.
♡ might dress in blue a lot or blue is their favorite color.
♡ pale af. Nothing wrong with pale people but they're pale lol. Whatever you consider pale is them.
♡ might be well off, as seen with the first choice, might come from old money OR they might be a tiktoker and making bank (infinite money glitch was the exact phrasing).
♡ might look very good in gold jewelry, they dont think silver isn't really their color BUT I'm seeing that they probably have a cool/green/blue undertone.
♡ very nice nails, regardless of gender they always look very nice.
♡ might be tall, 6'0-6'4
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Pile Four
♡ darker skin, brown locs
♡ might have colorful extensions, you'll find their hair style very beautiful and unique, "fresh"
♡ lemony fresh, might have somewhat of a fresh & clean feel to their essence and appearance
♡ bluish brown vest, might like wearing vests or layering their clothes. Somewhat of an academia look.
♡ might wear glasses or might have contacts, might change out the color occasionally just for fun.
♡ might own a pair of pink contacts
♡ aura is very friendly and "fruitful", they have a really nice aura to them that shines in their physical appearance.
♡ skin, nice skin.
♡ has very nice teeth, they might be eerily perfect. Whatever you consider to be nice or perfect teeth for a partner is what they'll have.
♡ if you've been manifesting or trying to script a perfect partner, they might be the exact replication of your desires.
♡ "fantasia", something important for someone out there.
♡ "ET" (the song), women might somewhat have a similar appearance to Katy Perry, or this person might embody the music video in some way. Fringe & chrome.
♡ high cheekbones with fuller cheeks.
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Thank you so much for reading! As usual, feel free to check out my masterpost with more readings, or you can support me by purchasing a reading by clicking here. Thanks for the support, let me know which pile you picked and if it resonated or not :)!
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roosterforme · 2 years
Text
Lips on You | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Rooster upsets you at the Hard Deck, he earns your forgiveness with his mouth and his tongue. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, somnophilia and smut
Length: 1700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Based on this request!
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!
Check my masterlist.
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You agreed to a Saturday night out at the Hard Deck with your boyfriend. You did not, however, agree to a night of watching all the single women paw at him all evening long. Maybe it was your fault since you asked him to shave off his mustache for you, because now every girl within a three mile radius was making a fuss over the cute stubble he had growing in. 
"Oh my God, Rooster! You still look hot, even without the stache!" This one looked barely twenty-one and had on a glorified bikini top as her outfit. You were starting to feel like you couldn't leave him at the bar alone for more than a few minutes at a time. He kept getting cornered up there. And now bikini top girl was literally trying to touch his face. 
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"Seriously?" you asked, taking one of the bottles. 
"What?" he asked innocently, grabbing a pool cue with his empty hand. 
Phoenix stood next to you, shaking her head. "Don't play dumb, Bradshaw. You shaved your mustache off. Now you've got stubble. It's like a fresh meat feeding ground in here. All these girls think you look new and exciting, and you know it," she said with an eye roll. 
"Yes! Phoenix is right!" you exclaimed, glad to have someone else on your side. "If I take my eyes off of you for one minute, one of them is going to drag you away," you said, gesturing to everyone sitting at the bar.
"Nah, you don't have to worry about that, Baby Girl," he promised, kissing you on the cheek and rubbing his stubble on your face before taking a turn at pool. You just sighed and sipped your beer. That was easy for him to say; he seemed blissfully oblivious. You wished he would do something to shut them all down.
When you and Bradley both needed another drink, you headed to the bar before he got a chance to get swarmed. But you could literally feel a set of eyes on you as you ordered and waited for Penny to get the beers. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a woman walk up to Bradley after she made sure you were distracted. "Goodness," you muttered to yourself. 
But when you grabbed the drinks and turned back toward the pool table, you saw her writing something down on a napkin. And when you hustled back in that direction, you heard her tell your boyfriend, "Call me sometime, Roo."
You froze up and had to fight hard to control the urge to throw both drinks at her face. Your blood pressure increased, and your heart rate sped up. You were practically seeing red.
Roo?!
Oh, hell no. He was your Roo! 
You listened as he lamely told the other woman, "Oh, no, I have a girlfriend."
She giggled. "Just keep my number anyway." You watched her tuck the napkin into his shirt pocket and pat his chest a few times for good measure.
"No, really. Thanks, but no thanks," he told her with a laugh, pulling it back out of his pocket and handing it back to her.
"You never know. Keep it just in case," she told him with a wink, but you grabbed the napkin out of her hand.
"The fuck he will!" You were practically yelling, and you watched the other woman back away with her hands held up in surrender. 
Bradley looked at you with a smile on his face and a laugh on his lips. "Sweetheart, I told her I have a girlfriend. It was no big deal."
You were seething now as you shredded the napkin to bits and let the tiny pieces fall to the floor like confetti. 
"No big deal? Did you hear what she called you?" you asked, and he shook his head slowly. "She called you Roo! That's what I call you, Bradley!" 
"I honestly wasn't even listening to her, Baby Girl."
"Sounds like trouble in paradise," Hangman muttered, and you shot him a look too.
"Zip it, Bagman. If you were half as hot as you think you are, none of these women would be hanging on Rooster," you informed him. 
Bradley started cracking up, literally doubled over laughing. "And you can zip it too, Roo. I'm ready to go home."
He had the decency to look abashed as you chugged your beer and set the bottle down softly. "Actually, you stay. Have fun. I'll get an Uber. Night, Phoenix."
You made it all the way to the parking lot and had the ride share app open on your phone before Bradley came running up behind you. "Sweetheart, wait! I'll take you home, okay? We can go back to your place."
You rolled your eyes and stopped in your tracks. "You want to come back with me now?"
"Of course," he replied, gently taking your hand in his and changing your course toward the Bronco. "Please?"
"Fine," you agreed, and he buckled you in and drove you back to your apartment in silence. 
As you got undressed and got ready for bed, he was your shadow. He helped you pull your hair up into a bun, kissing your neck in the process. He got you a glass of water so you could take your birth control pill. He fluffed your pillow. 
"Are you still mad at me?" he asked softly when you rolled away from him after he reached for you in bed. 
"Yeah, I am."
He was silent in the darkness for a moment. "Should I have been more firm? Told her I wasn't interested at all? Insisted she shouldn't call me Roo?" he asked softly.
You chuckled darkly. "Wow, it only took you an hour to figure that out."
More silence. "I'm sorry, Baby Girl. That's what I should have said to her. That's what I should have said to everyone. I... well, you know I don't have a lot of dating experience. And my words have never had much of an impact on anyone, ever. Sometimes I don't know what you expect from me. And I've never been in love before."
You felt your heart soften a little bit. 
"But I'm not trying to make excuses for myself. You're the only girl for me, and I'll be better next time. Can you forgive me, Baby Girl?" 
You rolled further away from him. "Maybe."
He sighed deeply but let you have your space. 
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When you woke up to the early morning light peaking through your window blinds, you felt cool air on your skin, and a sinful sounding moan escaped your lips. 
"Ohhh," you whined. Your entire body felt relaxed from sleep, but you were simultaneously receiving so much unexpected pleasure. 
Bradley was eating your pussy. You'd never woken up to something as insanely sexy as this before in your life. He was going slowly, seemingly allowing you to get used to the sensation as you woke up. His lips were spreading you open so he could taste all of you with his broad tongue, while softly stroking your thighs with his rough hands. 
As you looked down at him and whimpered, he licked one stroke from your opening to your clit, swirling his tongue before saying, "Morning, Sweetheart. Can you forgive me for last night?"
You groaned, gripped his wavy hair in both of your hands, and guided his face back down to your pussy. 
"Make me come, Roo. Then maybe I'll forgive you."
You didn't miss the smirk on his face as he nodded and lowered his lips to place a soft kiss to your pussy. He knew how to get you off, and you knew you would end up forgiving him. You were planning on forgiving him anyway; he had admitted he'd never been in love before you. And you knew he'd only had two other girlfriends. 
You also knew he loved going down on you. 
He ran his nose along your landing strip and through your wetness before he fucked you lazily with his tongue. Oh, the buildup was blissful; there was no urgency, no rush to the finish. You let your grip on his hair loosen as he pushed your thighs wider before replacing his tongue with his hand. He stretched you out and fucked you with two big fingers, all the way up to his knuckles. You hissed as his stubble rubbed you just right, the gritty sensation on your clit making you buck against him. 
"Oh!" you grunted. You felt yourself squeeze his fingers, riding his hand as he wrapped his pink lips around your clit, softly at first, then with enough pressure that you were moaning his name. 
"Bradley." Your broken whisper goaded him on. He sucked your clit between his lips, teasing you softly with the tip of his talented tongue. His fingers pumped into you, and you felt that first clench of your orgasm as your moans escalated.
You fleetingly gave thanks that your roommate was a very sound sleeper as Bradley's fingers hit that magic spot inside that had the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher as your chest expanded faster as you gasped for air.
Bradley's tongue rubbed you just right as your back arched off the bed, and you came on his face as your legs twitched. 
Bradley withdrew his fingers, and you watched him lick them clean as he crawled up the bed to lay down beside you. "Please forgive me, Sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'll be better."
You kissed his mouth and rolled him onto his back. "You'd better be the best, Roo. Don't make me jealous like that again." You licked his tongue, tasting yourself in his mouth and playing with his hair.
"I'll be so good for you. You'll never want to leave."
You’ll never want to leave, Baby Girl!!!!!  Hope you enjoyed this, nonny!
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You watched your boyfriend back away with a nervous laugh, one beer in each hand, as he made his way back toward you and the other aviators. 
1K notes · View notes
creedslove · 1 year
Text
DESERVE IT - PART TWO
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javier peña x f!reader
Summary: Javi has been acting weird ever since your kiss and you don't know what to do to make things better between the two of you
Warnings: angst angst and angst, mentions of bad relationships, reader being innocent and Javi being an asshole
A/N: I just couldn't get enough of this Javi scenario and got carried away with the angst. I love it!!!
PART 1
2.3k words
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Javi's hand gripped your waist, his fingers brushing against your skin as you deepened the kiss.
You tasted his lips and loved how his mustache tickled you softly, your hands tugging at his hair, and a soft whimper escaped your lips when you realized how good it felt.
No wonder all the women wanted a piece of Javier Peña.
And just like you initiated it, he stopped it.
Peña broke the kiss announced, he licked his lips, having one last taste of you and sighed heavily. Getting up and walking to the door "I gotta go, Y/N" he swallowed and left.
•••
You could barely sleep at night, you were left confused and worried about what was going on with Javi. He just broke the kiss and left without a second word. No sex, no goodbyes, no apologies, no compliments, nothing.
You didn't know exactly what you expected, when you kissed him you knew there was a high chance of ending up under him, and even if you didn't, you figured you were close enough to avoid any awkwardness. You thought you'd laugh it off, shrugged it off or anything else but Javier exiting your apartment like that.
You hoped things would be better in the morning, maybe he just got embarrassed after the scene Carlos made the day before.
Morning came at a slow pace and you were anxious to get to work. You noticed Javi had left earlier than usual and you thought it was a little odd. Of course he didn't have to give you a ride everyday, but he usually did. Even if it wasn't his obligation, you helped each other out, but no problem, you decided to not overthink things and focus on getting to work before you ran late.
You rushed to your table kind of clumsy. You carried many files you'd finished after Javi left and also two cups of coffee from a shop down the street. It was nothing like the American ones you were used to, but there was something about that strong coffee from Colombia you couldn't get enough of. Of course Javi was the one who showed you and promised you you'd love it.
You managed to get everything on your table and walked to him, he had his head low, focused expression, furrowing his brows at how attentive he read the documents. You figured he was so deep into work he hadn't noticed you despite the noise the heavy files made when they hit the solid furniture.
"Morning Javi, this is for you" you placed his cup of coffee next to where he was resting his hand and smiled, but he didn't even raise his eyes from the paper
"I already had coffee," he replied coldly.
Your jaw dropped at the action, not even in the worst of his moods he had been that cold to you.
You swallowed hard and looked around feeling slightly lost not knowing what to do or what to say properly
"Is there a problem, Javi?" You questioned at the same time Murphy walked towards you
"Peña, Messina wants to see us now"
And with that both men left barely acknowledging your existence and let out saying goodbye.
You waited the whole afternoon, finishing the tasks you'd compromised to help Javi with but there was no sign of them. Things were probably tense and whenever they had a meeting with Messina you knew he got furious.
You saw Steve walking in and sitting down on his chair. You turned to him and waited for Javier's entrance but he never showed up.
"Where's Javi?" You asked the blonde man who scratched the back of his neck and looked at you
"I don't know Y/N… he said he had stuff to do"
You nodded and looked back at the brand new pile of paper Steve brought from Messina's office.
•••
In the evening you got out of the shower and went to the kitchen to prepare yourself some dinner. You were feeling very tired due to the stress at work and felt like making nothing more elaborate than a sandwich, but when you saw the raviolis ready to be made, your mouth watered. You quickly grabbed your cooking appliances and began working.
As food was almost ready, you battled yourself if you should knock on Javi's door and offer him some. You knew he didn't eat well overall and you still remembered the first time you'd made ravioli and invited him over. You'd never seen him eat so much before, he truly did enjoy every bite he took and praised your cooking skills for days with no end.
You smiled at yourself at the sweet memory and figured some dinner would be the greatest peace offer you could think of. Maybe over dinner you could talk things through and end up with that whole awkwardness.
You knocked on his door a few times with no answer. It was kind of odd as you'd seen his car parked in the garage and you didn't hear any noises coming from inside, and by noises, you meant moans and whimpers, which meant he was alone. You frowned and insisted a little bit more.
"Javi… I think you're inside, maybe you fell asleep, but if you're awake, I just want you to know I made ravioli for dinner, and well, if you wanna have dinner with me, you're invited" you still let out a smile and again you got no answer.
You sighed and walked back inside, still clueless about what was going on.
When you woke up the next morning, you were determined to find out what the heck was going on between the two of you. Javier was simply ignoring you, pretending you didn't existed and it hurt you to no end. He had never been like that, your Javi was sweet, lovely, funny. He was a gentleman, but ever since you barked at Carlos for his stupid teasing and you kissed him, Javier just acted as if he didn't even know you.
You didn't know what had changed and why he distanced himself, there was no reason for him to treat you like that, you were upset to be ignored but you also couldn't deny you were dying to have his eyes on you again, to have his attention, his sweet words, the pet names, the spoiling, and above all, you missed your friend. You only realized how attached to him you really were now he was pushing you away.
When you began getting ready, you went through your closet trying to pick something to wear that would go with your recently done red blood nails. You knew Javier would say something about it, he always did. Deep inside you thought it must've been some kind of a kink, as he always praised women whenever they liked how their nails were done and to you it wasn't anything different. His favorite seemed to be red, as he always said it suited your sexy personality.
You smiled as you found the perfect dress to go to work. You remembered clearly the day when you and Javi were walking down the street on a Sunday afternoon after you went out for lunch a few blocks away from your apartment building. You'd stopped briefly in front of a store, though it was closed, you could see the dresses in the window.
He had taken off his sunglasses and watched the dress closely.
"This one, cariño, it will match your body perfectly"
First thing you did that Monday after work was to stop by the place and buy the dress Javier told you to.
When you got to the office, you were feeling pretty confident about yourself, Javi was right after all, the dress did match your body, and it made you feel elegant and powerful. No one could accuse him of not having a good taste nor not knowing the female body after all.
You could see several male gazes at you, following you around and watching every step you took. Even Steve eyed you up and down, but not Javi.
In fact, he acted just like he'd been doing for the past couple of days. Head buried into work and not bothering giving you the time of the day. He talked to Murphy or just answered the phone, concentrated and not looking towards you. At the same time you tried your best not to look disappointed, so you started working, in hopes things would be better through the day.
You were standing by the scanner printer when you felt a presence behind you. You finally bit your lips to hold back a smile.
"Ay muñequita, me matas así" you were so deep in thought and expectations you were sure he finally had acknowledged you. You turned to him and your smiley face turned into an angry expression at the realization it was Carlos's disgusting words and not Javi's.
"Fuck you, Carlos" you told him as you walked away, feeling pissed at the man.
Another hour went by of hard work and you could feel it was your last chance of drawing Javi's attention to yourself.
You'd finished the last paperwork Steve had left for you when he was going through his depressed episode and you needed to hand it to agent Peña himself.
You walked to his desk confidently as ever and placed the paper flat on the table, holding it with your fingers and sliding over to him, your nails extremely visible as you saw he stopped whatever he was writing and stared at your hand, not at you, not into your eyes, but it was a start.
"Where do I put this, Javi?" You asked as sweet as you could be.
"Wherever you want, Y/N. I don't care"
And just like that, you felt like a wave of freezing water crashed over you.
You felt some angry tears forming in your eyes and was so careful not to spill them there.
You went back to your table silently and pretended to work some more, though you couldn't focus on anything around you.
It was Y/N now. Only Y/N. No cariño, no querida, no hermosa, no mi amor, just the distance and unfamiliarity of Y/N.
When he got up some moments later, you mimed his action and kept your head low, not bothering looking at him, holding your breath as you really thought for a second he would stop by your desk. But instead he walked right past it and went to the secretary, giving her his brown puppy eyes while he asked for a favor.
"This color really matches you, Colleen" he said in his sweet, charming, flirty way, sending a deep flush across the secretary's face.
You couldn't believe your ears and when you finally looked at them, he was actually holding her hand in his.
You gritted your teeth and if you could you would've slapped that bitch right across her ugly face.
You weren't proud of that thought, Colleen was actually pretty nice to you and she probably didn't deserve that. In fact, Javier deserved it more than anyone in that room, even more than Carlos, but you didn't care about being rational at that point. You were just so angry and jealous of her.
Javier got whatever he asked her for and placed it at his desk before heading to the restroom.
You felt a burning rage invading your body and you couldn't take that situation anymore.
You followed him not caring if anyone saw you sneaking into the men's bathroom, you shut the door behind you with a loud thud making Javi turn around startled and stare at you.
"What the fuck Y/N?" He groaned in annoyance and you took a step closer
"What the fuck Javier? I'm the one who asks you what the fuck is going on with you? Why are you being such a dick to me? What have I done to you?" You were so angry your voice shook a little, wanting answers from him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, looking at you and placing his hands on his hips.
"You know what, Y/N? I don't need you bitching with Carlos for the things he says, I don't want you to act like a savior, I don't need you to save me, Y/N. And I definitely don't need you to kiss me out of pity" he let out trying to control his voice, though you could see a popping vein in his neck.
"I never kissed you out of pity, Javi… I did it because it felt right…"
He scoffed and rolled his eyes
"Since we met you've been clear about not wanting to sleep with me but you do everything in your power to act like my fucking girlfriend and then you kiss me?!" He slid his tongue through his lips and sighed "I'm not a good man, for you or any other woman, you gotta take that out of your mind. I know why you broke up with your boyfriend. He left you at the altar, and guess what? I did the same thing with a woman named Lorraine ten years ago! Do you really think I'm not as bad as the other guys are? I'm not as bad as your former fiance? Cut the crap Y/N. You can't have these feelings for me, we'd better stop whatever this was now. So you won't get even more hurt"
He gave you a last glance and exited the bathroom.
You stood there, watching yourself in the mirror, looking at how much effort you had put into your outfit to draw the attention of a man who didn't deserve you.
Maybe it had been obvious from the start and you refused to see, but turns out Javier Peña was just like every other man, and just like the ones you've had before, he broke your heart.
_____
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the angst!!!
752 notes · View notes
namfinessed · 11 months
Text
i have died - p.jm.
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genre: angst, mild fluff (7.1k) royal au! (mentions of blood, fighting and all information might not be accurate to history.)
summary: jimin knows his queen has a heart, he's known it since he set eyes on her, even if rumours whispered that she was cold, calculated, merciless, jimin held on, his queen had a heart.
masterlist
-
to be a queen, was to be powerful, they said.
it was to be graceful yet stern, commanding but caring, soft but strong, beautiful but not so much, that it took away from your strength.
to be a queen, was to be miserable, you said.
you sat on your throne, with the burden of the world on your shoulders and not a touch from someone else to cure it or take it away. your arms stayed firmly on your lap as you tried to concentrate on your advisor’s words.
“war is upon us, your majesty, everyone’s saying it.” he gestured to the court filled with old men, greedy old men who were waiting for you to slip up.
“on what basis, did you make this conclusion?” you tried to stay calm, even if a shiver went down your spine and your hands started sweating.
you knew war was going to descend on your kingdom any day now, your parents warned out about it when you were still a kid, you had been preparing for this your whole life, but it didn’t stop the nightmares, chills, or fear. war would devastate your kingdom, it would run your people and resources dry and as the queen, you were expected to stop this devastation.
“do you not see what is happening in your kingdom, your majesty?” one of the old men sneered at you as their hands tweaked their mustaches and your patience almost gave out.
beside you, your general, park jimin, tightened his hand on his sword, ready to slay the man on your command. you lift a hand in his direction, showing a sliver of your patience, and he brings his hand back down.
“i do know about the riots and the grains,” you started, leaning forward, “i also know about the affairs.” you stared pointedly at the old man, whose eyebrow started sweating as you stood up.
“be careful with how you speak to me, or i will not hesitate to tie you up and throw you in the middle of a bloody riot.” you stormed out of the room with park jimin hot on your tail, concealing his smile and an audible hush resounded around you as you walked out to the barren land.
you weren’t known as the heartless queen for no reason, you were merciless, with whomever you deemed deserved to be treated that way and you knew it wasn’t fair, but as a queen, you could care less about being fair.
“should i ready the swords, your majesty?” jimin spoke and you nodded, turning and disappearing into a room to change. you hastily undid the layers of clothing you wore, feeling more and more air enter your chest as you stood naked in front of the long mirror covering the wall.
scars from many wars ago littered your chest, thighs, and arms, you wanted to pile on all the layers of your clothing back on your beaten body.
you pushed the layers away instead, a queen shouldn’t worry about battle scars, she should celebrate them. you got your armor and boots on, feeling better when everything was covered, and stepped out.
but a sight made you stop in your tracks.
across the practice field, were two lovers, oblivious to the world, hiding away from the world under a sheer curtain, the women were holding back their smiles as they stroked each other’s cheeks, leaning into each other but leaning away, as if a magnetic pushed them close and far. one of them reached out and kissed the other’s cheek, your hand instinctively reached to your cheek, unconsciously patting the area.
never a kiss.
never has a kiss ever touched your skin.
never has a touch from someone you loved, left a ghost on your skin, like your scars did.
across the practice field, jimin’s worried eyes saw your hands stroking your cheeks, his gaze followed your line of sight to see the poorly concealed lovers, his heart twisted as he watched you push your hands away and a grimace fell on your face. jimin had never seen a smile on his queen’s face but with the role you had, he knew you didn’t have much to smile about.
“your majesty, they are ready!” he yelled, capturing your attention, away from the lovers who brought tears to your eyes. your eyes snapped to his and the vulnerability disappeared, a hardness settled in them again and jimin wished that he let you stay lost in your vulnerability for a little more.
you grabbed your sword and protective gear, struggling to put on the headpiece as you always did, jimin stepped up and snapped it into place, it was the only thing you let him do for you.
and jimin looked forward to it every day.
you fell into a rhythm, jimin was a formidable opponent, never letting you be distracted for too long, which was relieving. the sounds of swords clanging, boots kicking the sand up, and heavy breathing drowned out everything else for you.
your eyes stayed laser-focused on jimin’s movements, they were natural, clean, and sharp, and so were his father’s.
you had known jimin your whole life when he was still just a kid and learning from his father, who was your father’s general, when he followed his mom around, who followed your mum around.
his parents weren’t alive now, nor were yours.
someday, you were ten years old, your parents had left for another town and never returned, and you had to be a queen while still not understanding what death was and why it had taken your parents, jimin’s parents protected you until an unknown disease took the two of them as well.
jimin’s sword hit yours, bringing you back to the present, where you had no one to love nor protect but jimin did, jimin always knew he would protect you.
you swung back, twisting your leg to bend and hit the armor covering his stomach, he recoiled at the contact and you smirked underneath your headgear. this continued, you played the dance of defense and offense, and soon, you ripped the headpiece to force some air into your body.
“i’ll be going now.” you walked out, without looking back and jimin nodded, dropping his sword, wordlessly watching you leave.
somewhere, between being a queen while still being a child and losing everyone you loved, you had forgotten to care for another person, and between protecting you since he was a teenager and losing everyone he loved, jimin had only grown more determined to care with all the heart in him.
that was the difference between you and jimin, you lost your heart and he gained a second one. and naturally, you two never spoke anymore but jimin had always wanted to tell you about his second heart, that it beat for you, even if it meant that his head would be at the end of your sword.
-
the talk of war kept spreading throughout the kingdom and your palace became louder, so did your heartbeat in your ears, so did your sword hitting jimin’s, and so did your internal cries for help.
you marked the map as you circled it, checking entries, exits, and secret pathways that could leave you vulnerable to the enemies.
“seal the exits, don’t allow goods transport till the next week, we will put up announcements when it can be resumed, station two guards at every secret route and give them our best guns, station one guard at each entry and exit, make sure meals reach them from time-to-time and distribute palace supplies to the people, without good transport, they won’t be making money” commands flowed easily out of you, you took every advisor’s bullshit advice and decided to ignore it at all, you came up with the most efficient plan you could.
“should we seal them tonight, your majesty?” jimin stepped forward and you nodded, “tonight would be best, we have to protect ourselves before we regret it. and later, i need to discuss battle strategies with you, keep that in mind.” jimin bowed to you and stepped back as the advisors argued with you.
he watched with a smirk as you calmly explained how miserable their plans were, he watched as you put all of them in their places and left the room, leaving the air of your power lingering in the room.
“she’s just as arrogant as her father” the same old man who had questioned your knowledge of the kingdom in the court, turns his nose up with a nasty sneer on his face. jimin feels his skin start to burn in anger when he hears the noises of agreement from the others.
“she’s even worse, at least her father was a capable ruler, she’s just arrogant and nothing else,” another one adds with a smirk, and everyone laughs at the comment, jimin wonders how you hold onto your patience with these men.
“she’s not even beautiful enough to be arrogant, did you see the scars covering her arms? no wonder she isn’t married” they continued to add snide comments, sipping their drinks and doing everything but be the advisors they are.
a slam on the wooden table startles them all, liquid jumping out of their cups and onto the floors, they all turn to see jimin’s eyes burning holes into them as his hands twitch on the table.
“one more word about our queen and i will personally wield the sword that chops your necks off.” jimin says calmly, though his fury is poorly contained. the advisors quirked an eyebrow at him, “who do you think you are? you are a general, not the queen’s lapdog, behave.”
another one piped up to reprimand him, “you are no one to lay a hand on any of us, learn your place, or we will make you.”
a dark chuckle bubbled out of jimin as he quickly realized if given the chance, he would take the lives of everyone in this room in a heartbeat, “my place is to serve her, so if i ever lay a hand on you, it wouldn’t be for me, it would be for my queen.”
the advisors grew wide-eyed at the storm-like fury that brewed in jimin’s eyes as he stared at them, jimin was known to be kind, friendly, and sweet around the court, but seeing him this way, had them all clearing their throats and looking away as a sheen of fear covered their faces, their eyes flickered from jimin to the sword that rested on his hips.
it would only take him a minute to kill them all and that knowledge had all of them gulping for air.
outside the room, you held your hand to your chest as a long breath released out of you, you never left since you heard the first comment from your advisors and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt you, it did.
and you knew jimin didn’t have to say anything, you knew he could’ve just left the room, this was the first time anyone had ever stood beside you and not against you.
jimin opened the doors to see you beside them, eyes gazing up at him with concealed fondness, your face stayed cold and distant but jimin noticed the tiniest curve of your lips.
he remembers how you used to smile as a kid, wide and with teeth, dimples curved in as you ran around the palace, having your maids chase you around, he remembers the first time you had talked to him.
“get the swords ready, general.” you rush out of the area, leaving jimin a little startled but without another word, he follows you.
-
the sounds of your swords clanging brought you peace, as your chest slowly started to loosen up, though you had to admit that your focus wasn’t great, your eyes kept flickering to catch glimpses of jimin, hidden under his protective gear and your mouth kept opening to say something.
“you didn’t have to stand up to them, park jimin” you muttered, just loud enough for jimin to hear and his movements paused.
so, you had heard.
he was wishing that you hadn’t.
“i know, your majesty.” his arms lifted his sword again, but dropped it as soon as your sword hit the ground.
“then, why would you do it?” you hated the tremor in your voice, it was so unlike you, so unlike a queen.
“i don’t know, but i can’t think of anything else i would’ve done at the moment,” he removed his headpiece to see you, to see what you felt about his words.
you nodded with uncertainty, you expected him to say that as your general, it was his duty to defend you, you hadn’t expected anything more than that.
“i appreciate it,” you said breathily and jimin nodded back, his cheeks attaining a flush from both the cold wind gushing around you and also from your words.
i would do it again, by the way, even if my life is on the line.
he felt the urge to tell you as you turned away but then his eyes caught the royal emblem etched on your armor and he swallowed his words.
“i wasn’t always like this, general, i think you know that.” tears, that you couldn’t stop, lined your eyes as you thought back to the child that you were and the world that you had to grow up in, and jimin felt his chest fill with sorrow because he knew so well, knew more than you thought he did. “i know, your majesty, i know.”
you straightened your shoulders, any trace of vulnerability escaping your body as your advisors passed the field, all of their eyes analyzing and judging you.
“we still have to discuss those strategies, come.”
-
the rest of the night, you went over your defenses again and again, eyes catching fleetingly, accidentally, and then returning to the table with flushed cheeks, jimin was delighted to be so close, yet so far, from you.
and each time, your eyes met, you felt your heart beating again, you felt yourself wanting to say things that had nothing to do with the maps spread out in front of you.
“we knew each other before all this, didn’t we, park jimin?” before you became a queen, before you owned a kingdom, jimin was present in your distant memory, “you gave me flowers.” he smiled at you, images of your younger self flashing brightly in his mind.
“no! that can’t be true, general” a smile of disbelief curved on your face, you never looked at flowers, you couldn’t imagine any part of you that would gift someone flowers.
“oh, but you did, your majesty” jimin cheekily replied, making you shake your head and look away from him, trying to remember a time when you weren’t a queen.
but jimin remembers too clearly, how you had met, how your hands touched him for the first time, when it was all innocence and warmth.
it had been a hot, summer day.
jimin’s mother was busier than usual. it was the princess’s birthday and the entire palace was geared up to celebrate it grandly.
but jimin wasn’t happy at all. his eyes were hurting from the tears he had cried, his cheeks were firing up with heat as his body burned.
he was sicker than he had ever been and his mother couldn’t take care of him, her own eyes were filled with tears that she couldn’t take care of her child but she had duties to fulfill.
jimin sat in the garden, sniffling and pulling grass, refusing to listen to his mother’s request to stay inside as his cheeks puffed up with defiance.
then, he heard soft giggles falling from the corridors into the lonely garden.
he turned to see the princess, her hand in the queen’s, her other hand gripping tightly onto freshly picked jasmines, as she walked merrily, it was her birthday after all. and even as a kid, jimin couldn’t look away from the princess.
she was a joy to see, a joy to hear.
when the princess turned to look at him, to look at sad, pouty jimin, sitting by himself, picking the grass with tear-stained cheeks, jimin wouldn’t have guessed that she would run over to him. he wouldn’t have guessed that she would take the jasmines in her hand and place them above his ears.
“flowers are happy, you should be happy.” you had told him, with a dimpled smile, staring at him for a few seconds before running back to your mother, but he watched as you looked back at him till you left the corridor.
jimin felt the traces of love bloom in his heart for the first time.
now, he sees you, so tough and powerful and as his queen, but he remembers too well how you used to be and jimin fell for you then, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t gotten back up.
at some point in the night, the sleeves on your dress ride up and your eyes widen as you push them back down, you hurriedly look up to see if jimin has seen anything, you wait to see if his face twisted in disgust, but jimin only smiles, “you are so strong, your majesty. i wish i was more like you.”
he doesn’t speak about your tears.
or your scars.
or the fear on your face.
you know that he notices it all, but he doesn’t say a word.
you didn’t know that even if you weren’t the queen of the kingdom, you would still be jimin’s queen, hot or cold, kind or ruthless, heart or heartless, nothing could change that.
and jimin might have felt it when he was still a kid, but this was the first time, that something bloomed in your heart, you weren’t sure it was love, you were just sure that it was because of him.
-
weeks later, your kingdom was sealed, business halted and time as it was, didn’t move as you and your people prepared for the war.
tensions were high, and the kingdom got quieter as everyone waited for any news about their fate, you spent every minute with jimin, formulating and discussing plans that could bring you even a sliver of hope, and every minute, your heart unwillingly grew sprouts and flowers.
“hand over the kingdom to us and there will be no blood staining your land or else, your entire kingdom will drown.” your minister read the last sentence of the letter that was sent over to you that morning and you tried to resist the chill crawling on your back.
but you knew who it was from, a much more prosperous kingdom, a much more powerful kingdom with a king, not a queen, not like your weak kingdom.
you were powerful and you have won many wars but your opponent has colonized several countries at a time so realistically, your chances of surviving his quest were slim to none.
jimin eyed your tightening fists with a glint of worry and concern as your minister hung his head, solemn from the words he just read, “what do we say, your majesty?”
you knew the gravity of your decision here, you could either abandon your land and people, hand them over to a stranger, and not look back, because you knew even if you fought back, you would be weaker, you would lose.
but you also couldn’t turn your back on your people, your father and mother wouldn’t have done that, they wouldn’t have handed your people over, and they would have fought with everything they had.
sometimes, you just wish they would be beside you, gently guiding and firmly telling you what to do. sometimes, you wanted to crawl on your mother’s lap and cry until you couldn’t, sometimes, you just wanted your father’s hand on your head, telling you to be brave.
but your wishes remained wishes, hard decisions had to be solely made by you, whether you liked it or not.
“tell them, they will be the ones drowning, not us.” you feigned the confidence you knew your court needed, and seeing everyone’s face light up as their loud cheers echoed in your court, made it easy for you to say it, even if you knew it wasn’t true.
you would drown.
and never float back up.
all because you couldn’t be the queen your people needed.
you told yourself, that it was justified to give false hope to people whose hope was weathering, it was justified to lie to your court while knowing it would be gone in flames later, it was justified to fake your power for the flicker of relief that passed over their faces.
but jimin’s eyes stayed on your knuckles that turned white, your eyes that seemed dazed and he knew you were lying, his hand rested on his sword as he realized that the cheering people, were all waiting for their deaths.
-
“your majesty, a moment of your time.” jimin stayed outside the door until he heard your voice, allowing him in. you were sitting at the edge of your cot, chest heavy and breathing caught in your body.
“forgive me, your majesty, but you and i both know that you were lying.” he spoke, with confusion lacing his voice, you were always honest, you never lied for the sake of making someone feel better. “about what, general?” he didn’t recognize the strange, lifeless tone your voice had taken.
“that we are going to survive the quest.” jimin knew as much as you did, that your kingdom would be run to the ground, even if he thought you were the strongest of them all, he knew your kingdom would fall.
“we are going to survive it,” you lied through your teeth.
“we’re all going to die” jimin didn’t know why he was arguing with you, but he couldn’t help it, this was the first time his queen had lied and he needed to know why.
“oh general, i have died a long time ago” you laughed bitterly, your stomach twisting at your words, you felt sick, trapped in yourself, trapped in this palace that gave you all of the power but none of the relief that came with love. his gaze softened as, for the first time, tears flowed down your face like a river, as sobs escaped your chest without restraint, as you sunk to the floor with your hands tightly wrung the bedding.
you had died the day your parents didn’t come back, you had died when they placed a heavy crown on your tiny head as a kid, you had died when the sprinkle of someone else’s blood fell on your face, you had died when the people you fought for called you heartless.
you had died more times than you could count, one more time, even if it was for real this time, didn’t shake you at all.
it was dying without a touch of love decorating your skin, that truly scared you. you wished for a touch that wouldn’t unravel you but would hold you together, the way even a riptide, as dangerous as it is, longs for a shore to embrace, you want just a touch.
jimin should leave, his duty wasn’t this, his duty wasn’t to console a broken queen but jimin never stayed by your side as a duty, he stayed because it was where he belonged.
jimin sunk to his knees, his hands trembling to touch you, to let you lay on him and let years of your tears run down his chest, but he doesn’t want to be at the end of your sword, he wants to be at the end of your bed, watching you while you sleep and protecting you from the nightmares that plague you.
and then you surprise him.
jimin’s breath halts as he watches you reach for him, one frail hand in the air that beckons him closer and he follows wordlessly, sitting beside you and watching as your head finds his lap. you melt into his lap, fingers falling away from your body to hug his legs, a soft hum leaves your lips and jimin’s urge to protect you increases exponentially.
it's been a while since he has seen his queen be herself, and he knows as you grasp onto him for affection, that this was you finally giving up on maintaining an image, at least in front of him.
he slowly places a hand on your back, unsure if he was allowed to touch you the way you touched him, but you only bury your tear-stained cheeks into his legs and jimin relaxes, letting his hands travel on your back, his hands burned with love as he rubbed circles on your skin that coaxed more cries out of you, but this time, they weren’t out of pain, they were out of the relief of finally being touched with love.
“jimin,” you called out, so softly even if your voice dried out from the tears, so intimately that jimin wanted to curl up to you and forget everything else, “yes?”
no general.
no park jimin.
just jimin.
“i didn’t lie because i wanted to, the kingdom will die long before the war gets here, if i don’t lie, they need to hold onto something as we go into the war, they need to believe that they can survive to even fight.” and jimin sees it, the heart that your people denied that you had, you had thought of them before anything else and he smiles to the ceiling.
“after everything goes, you will be remembered as the greatest ruler our kingdom has ever seen,” he speaks sincerely, as his hands caress the lengths of your hair, which lulls you, your heart warms but you know it wasn’t true, “no one would remember me.”
“i would, in death and life, i will.”
you hadn’t expected to be satisfied with his answer but somehow, that was more than enough of you.
you always wished for a touch to make you feel loved, to make you feel anything but jimin’s words alone held you together and for the first time, you bore a heart that was heavier than you were, a heart that dragged you down, pulled you down and forced you to accept its size.
and you loved the enormity of affection you felt, especially that it was for the man who held you so gently even if he had seen you at your strongest.
“your majesty, i have a confession.”
“i think i know what you are going to say,” you might not have cared for other people, but you did notice things, you noticed the lingering looks jimin would give you, the smile that would grow on his face whenever you put your advisors in their place, the way his tone changed to something softer only when he talked to you, you had noticed it all.
you felt the same, maybe not as long as he had, but melted against him, you knew you wouldn’t feel this way for anyone else, except the person who stood by and protected you for so long.
“but if you allow me, i still want to say it.” you peered up from his lap with an amused smile, your general was more romantic than you had thought him to be, and jimin hadn’t thought your smile could be any more beautiful than it was in his dreams, but it was.
“you are allowed,” you face him, cheeks flushing and hands trapping his, “i love you, i’ve loved you since i knew what love was.”
you were only just learning love, as your skin touched his, as you sunk further into him, as you felt cocooned by his presence, as you felt his unwavering love for you through his touch but even if it was just now, you knew you felt the same.
but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, as a queen, were you allowed to profess love for someone else? with a war approaching, did you deserve to love as your kingdom ran to devastation?
you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t allow yourself the luxury.
you just nudged further into jimin’s body, squeezing his hand as a silent way of professing, ‘i feel the same, in my heart that’s beating after a long time, i feel what you do and i will tell you, i will tell you soon.’
jimin sighs in relief, his skin growing warm as your hands desperately try to tell him what your mouth can’t and he allows his body to drape over you, hands caressing your dress and brushing your hair away from your cheeks.
“i understand, my queen, i will wait.”
-
that night, everything changed for you, you had felt so defeated before the war even started but here you were, days later, hitting swords with jimin once again, a new kind of determination drummed in your attacks, you had to win the war, you had to be with jimin.
“your majesty, i’m afraid you are getting distracted,” jimin teases you as his sword nears your throat, with an amused scoff, you pull back to drag your sword on the ground and drive it up to the back of his head, “apparently, not as much as you, general.”
you both spent every quiet night together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s words and he professed his love to you every single day, even if you didn’t say it back, and he reminded you that your heart hadn’t died, it had just hidden away, but he certainly had wedged himself into it and it seemed to you that he would never leave.
jimin raises his sword in surrender, a chuckle leaving his lips once he sees you grin widely at his defeat.
“you are enjoying this too much,” he tuts at you, “i’m still your queen, jimin” you playfully scold him and he rolls his eyes at you, “and i’m still your general, your majesty.” he tips his invisible hat with a shit-eating grin and leaves you, flustered in the middle of the ground as he walks away to greet some new members of the army.
what was this feeling that consumed you, as your eyes refused to look away from his retracting figure?
a fluttering sense of calm danced around you, your usually restless heart had taken a steady, loud rhythm and you loved the world right now.
you felt as if everything was alright, as if the skies were always blue, as if the flowers always bloomed, as if you could fight a war and win it, just to keep this moment alive.
“your majesty!” a shrill voice broke your dreamy thoughts, and your head snapped to see your minister rushing down the hallway to reach you. you hold your arms over his shoulders to steady him as he breathes heavily.
“careful, minister.” he shook his head at your words, eyes pinching shut as he panted.
“they’ve gotten in, your majesty.”
and just like that, the feeling of victory faded from you.
“what are you talking about?” you couldn’t recognize how tight your voice sounded, how your hands twitched involuntarily to your sword, and how the air in your chest knocked out of you.
not now.
not so soon.
“we sealed every exit, minister, that is not possible” you desperately tried to dissuade what he was trying to tell you, he solemnly shook his head, “one of our own turned on us, they gave them entry into our kingdom, and several civilians were beheaded just a few minutes.”
your blood boiled.
for a minute, your eyes saw complete red as your hands shook beside your body, “how many, minister?” your voice didn’t contain your fury, nor your heartbreak.
“hundred and twelve, as of now, your majesty.”
in that minute, you knew you could slay an entire kingdom if you wanted to, you knew that if you were let loose, not a single soldier would be able to keep up with you. your people were supposed to be the last ones to get hurt, you were supposed to be protecting them and you failed.
“i’m assuming, the traitor has been caught?”
“yes, your majesty.” your minister’s eyes widened in fear as you pulled your sword out, “show him to me.”
-
that night, you scrubbed someone else’s blood off your face, and frustrated tears lined your eyes but the red never seemed to disappear, as you kept washing, more and more took its place, and soon, you gave up on getting it off, you had to accept that a part of you will always be stained with their blood.
the blood served as a reminder of the people you couldn’t save.
you had spent the evening, preparing for the war that would start tomorrow, it was finally declared by your opponent in another mocking letter, and providing aid to the families who lost their loved ones, each of their cries rang loudly in your ears even if hours passed.
water droplets dripped down your face as you sat once again, defeated before the war began, at the edge of your bed, but this time, a knock at your door filled you with relief.
jimin came in, exhausted as well, but his eyes zeroed on the red covering your arms and face, without a word, he took a washcloth, dipped it in water, and sat beside you.
his fingers nudged your hair away from your face and slowly, patiently, patted the blood away, shushing you as you broke down in tears in the middle.
that night ended in jimin’s arms, with a clean face and a lighter heart.
both of you didn’t know what would happen the next day, you just knew that you had to survive for each other.
-
“line up!” jimin’s yell filled the courtyard and all the soldiers jogged across it to surround him, “you all are aware, going in today, of the severity of the situation and what it could lead to, but i trust that my soldiers will still give their best, we all have homes to return to, keep that in mind. let it serve as a motivation for you to win this, help your fellow soldiers, and keep your focus.”
all of them were nervous, all of them had left home saying their final goodbyes to their families in case they never returned, but all of them also believed in their general and his words, rapid nods came as a response from them and they started preparing themselves mentally.
jimin gestured for them to move along and they all started embracing each other, comforting words poured into the space and they soon moved away to disperse.
in your changing room, your hands slid down the scars that covered you, after today, you were sure there were going to be even more, but somehow, you didn’t mind it as much. your maids placed the armor on you, tightening it around your body and you bit back a groan.
you didn’t know how many more of these wars you could fight.
suddenly, they all shuffled away, leaving the room, causing you to turn around, confused at their actions, only to see jimin entering the room.
“i don’t know why they ran away,” he said with comically raised eyebrows and you bit back a grin, “i’m sure they must have seen you leave my quarters in the morning.” his head fell back with a laugh as he stepped closer to you.
“that can’t be, i’m so discreet, like a ninja, you know?” you rolled your eyes at him, “you broke three vases just two days ago, jimin.” he kissed your temple as another laugh bubbled out of him, “maybe i’ll learn along the way.”
“maybe you will.”
you sighed as both of your smiles slipped, there was no telling if there was a way anymore but believing that there was, it was all you could do.
“how are the soldiers?” your eyes bore into his similar, armor-clad body that came up behind you in the mirror.
“just right, your majesty, don’t worry.” his arms came up to wrap around your body and your hands rested on his arms, a shuddering breath left your mouth as the gravity of today settled in even more.
maybe there won’t be a way, maybe you will never get to hold jimin like this again.
“before we go jimin, i want to tell you, like all of them, you have me, a home and i need you to come back for me,” that was the closest you could get to professing your love, your words were pleading, begging, even if your face was passive. jimin shakes his head, his hair rubbed onto your neck as he exhaled, “we both need to come back, i’m not letting this end here.”
after minutes passed of just being enveloped in each other’s warmth, you wished you could just ignore the war and stay in this room forever, with jimin, you wished you could ignore the possibility of losing him but the loud roars of your soldiers marching to the battlefield reminded you of who you were doing all of this for.
you were the queen, jimin was the general, and both of you had duties that couldn’t keep you locked in this room.
so, with a pained heart and arms that longed for each other even if only seconds passed, you both parted to step away from each other.
jimin reached for your headgear, taking his time to brush your hair and slip it on your head, the one thing you always let him do for you and you held back your tears as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. you reached for his hands and kissed the back of them, your tears soon fell on them and jimin’s resolve started breaking.
but he sniffed, pushing himself away and wiping your tears, “are you ready, my strongest queen?” he held out his hand with a wide, albeit painful smile on his face.
you put your hand in his, trying to stay strong, “whenever you are, general.”
and as you two stepped out, the warmth of his skin spread on you, his head dipping down to give you one final smile that was filled with his ever-growing love.
you felt scared that you might never see it again.
“i love you, your majesty.”
i love you unbelievably more.
“there will be a royal wedding to get ready for after this, be prepared, general.”
-
jimin winced as sand clouded his vision, he swung his sword aimlessly, hoping to catch his opponent, his ears were ringing from all the screams of agony around him, and when the blood splattered on his face, another scream rang much louder in his ear, causing him to look away.
another soldier who wouldn’t go home.
he whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of you in the midst of all the chaos, and after ducking and running under everyone around him, while slaying whoever he could in the way, he finds you.
a soldier fell at your feet and you took a huge breath, while looking around, only to catch jimin’s impressed face, you both smiled at each other, with red dripping down on your faces.
there was a chance.
you could win this and go back home to each other.
but soon, jimin got pushed into the chaos, and another, darker cloud of sand dusted across his face, forcing him to stand straight and attack again. he couldn’t see you again but he knew you were giving it your all, so he busied himself.
only a few more.
and he would be back with you.
-
they told him that you killed the most.
that you had fought bravely, and led your kingdom to victory.
that you were the queen that they would love and celebrate, even if centuries pass.
but how could jimin love and celebrate you, when he couldn’t hold you in his arms?
when your body was carried into the palace, it had taken everything in jimin to not set the entire palace on fire. to him, a palace without you, alive and breathing life into the building, was not a palace at all.
people held him when he cried, when he wanted to drive his sword into himself, when he would try to shake your body back to life, when he wouldn’t move away from your body, people put their arms around him and tried to lift him up.
but none of them could console him, all the promises you both had dreamed about vanished in front of his eyes and he blamed every single one of them, if they weren’t so harsh on you, if they didn’t call you heartless, you wouldn’t fight till death to prove that you did indeed have a heart, that you indeed had the biggest one.
jimin didn’t have too long to mourn, soon, the heavy crown was positioned on his head, they told him that it was your last request for him to look after the kingdom you had left behind, and once it was on him, he realized the weight you carried around your whole life, since you were only a kid.
they pulled all kinds of royal clothes on him, the materials itched, they burnt his skin, and the gold threads dug into his neck, as if the clothes were his own prison.
as he was made king, the kingdom rejoiced, they were finally getting a king, a true ruler, in their words, and jimin laughed in all their faces, their history would only have one true ruler, and it was you. no one could do what you did.
the throne felt wrong to jimin, as if he didn’t belong, but he knew this was what you wanted for the kingdom you loved so dearly, and jimin would always serve your needs.
he wished, as you had, for you to come and hold him when he had hard decisions to make, he wished to melt into your lap one last time to feel the warmth that ran away from him, he wished that you were right beside him, gently guiding and caring for him.
but he was left with only the ghost of your touch, that would forever haunt him.
jimin still got up every day, he put on the heavy crown and the irritating clothes and listened to the same blubbering idiots, the way you had, and he tried his best to be the ruler you were.
but at night, he crumbled away, dreaming of your touch and your love as he hugged your headgear closer.
jimin’s dreams remained dreams.
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onepiecestarry · 2 months
Text
A Different Kind of Pirate - Part 4
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Zoro x Reader
Masterlist
Hi all :) This part uses Dressrosa but does not include any important plot points from the show! It's mostly made up with a bit of guidance from the show, so if you haven’t seen it, don’t worry! Chapters will now be a bit more spread out since I’m traveling but I will still try my best to stay on top of it! No more than a week, and I promise if it's that long, it’ll be a nice long chapter too. I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the support!
Part 4: Tragedy
Zoro wakes up before you, quietly observing your peaceful face while you sleep, unaware of the smile growing on his face. After he enjoys his moment he gently shakes you awake.
“Hey, prin- y/n. It's time to get up, we gotta get ready to land at Dressrosa.” He says softly. You groan in reply, turning your body over and covering your head with a pillow. Zoro lifts the pillow smiling and tells you to get up once again. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” You grumble.
Zoro decides to get up and get changed into his disguise- a nice-looking suit and stupid-looking mustache. When he walks out of the bathroom you laugh at the mustache.
“Hey! What are you laughing at?” He says sharply.
Between giggles you manage to respond, “The mustache doesn’t even match your hair Zo, come on!”
He simply smiles at your response and waves for you to get changed. As you open the door, you get nervous about how exposed you are, you know that the women in Dressrosa dress very provocatively but you can’t believe you had to as well. You try to cover yourself as you step out, but it doesn’t matter, Zoro looks at you and his gaze changes from playful to something else. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, but you knew it was different. 
You walk over to him and adjust his collar. “You look good in a suit Zo, you should wear one more often.” You smile gently at him.
“Thanks.” He says as if he barely heard him. Clearly, something else was taking up his mind, probably the impending battle. 
--
You all began walking around Dressrosa, setting up points and scouting where the important places to attack were. You, Zoro, Law, and Bepo were a team making your way to the factory. Your team's job was to set up bombs and make your way to the city center. Your specific job was to stay put at the base of the mountain with Zoro and set the bombs off when needed. Zoro was there to watch your back. 
As you were walking through town you couldn’t help but notice the toys, how were they like this? Why? You move on and start looking for the factory, preventing Zoro from wandering off multiple times. 
“ZO-, ZORO GET BACK OVER HERE!” You yell at him.
“What? This is the way.” He says annoyed.
“It's not Zoro, get back here!” You say frustrated, having done this already 12 times. “I’m tired of this.” You take a ribbon from your disguise and tie it around his wrist and yours. “There, now you can’t get lost. Can’t have a pretty boy like you wandering around alone, we need you.” You say with a wink. He looks away to hide the growing blush on his face.
You all arrive at the factory, pretending to be tourists walking around to covertly place bombs. Once Bepo was placing the last bomb a guard began to walk by. Panicking to hide Bepo you yank Zoro to you, placing yourselves in front of Bepo and start flirting with him. In the first second Zoro didn’t understand and just started blushing and trying to step back, but you had a tight grip on the ribbon, letting him know you weren’t doing this normally. He noticed the guard and decided to lean into you, placing his hand next to your head against the wall and leaning in to whisper something in your ear. This sudden shift in behavior caught you off guard- you had never seen Zoro like this, let alone with you. 
He begins to whisper, “Tug on the ribbon when the guard is gone. I’m impressed with your quick thinking, did you think of this because pda makes people look away, or is it because you just wanted an excuse to get me closer?” He says tauntingly. Your face turns red and you try to hide it by looking away, you have never been called out like this. “Ah, ah, ah, we got to keep the act up princess.” He says using his index finger and thumb on your jawline to turn your head back to him. You tug on the ribbon letting him know the guard is gone, and he backs up with a smirk plastered all over his face. 
Suddenly Law comes running up to the three of us, you didn’t realize he was gone. Panting from running he says, “Just checked the base of the guard tower, it doesn’t seem like anyone is on to us yet- y/n, you okay? Your face is all red.” He interrupts his report to ask.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just hot you know.” You lie. You can see Zoro smirking proudly out of the corner of your eye, so you hit him, not too hard but hard enough to let him know to cut it out. 
-- 
You all made it to the base of the mountain, right as all the chaos started, The executives finally found out about what was going on and started the counterattacks- which means that Doflamingo now knows what's going on. Law may not be able to take him down on his own, you hope Luffy will get here on time to help. Knowing you had no other choice you split from the other half of your group and found a small corner to hide out in for now with Zoro. 
You had swiped a walkie from one of the guards to stay up to date on their whereabouts. As you stood messing with it you noticed a looming presence behind you. 
“What do you want Zo?” You ask annoyed.
“Nothin'.” He says bored. 
“Then why are you standing there?” 
“I can’t really go anywhere else, you got me all tied up.” He whispers the last part in your ear making a shiver go up your spine. You quickly turn around to tell him off about why you did so but are stopped by the radio coming alive.
“There are bombs on the factory, I repeat, bombs on the factory. We need a bomb squad immediately to get these off the building.” The radio crackles.
“Shit, I didn’t think they’d have a bomb squad. “I’ll go back and keep them away, you set it off when you get the signal.” You say to Zoro.
“Absolutely the fuck not. One, you and I are not splitting up, especially not when bombs are involved. Two, how the fuck would I know you are far away enough to not get hurt, my entire job is to be your backup!.” He exclaims. You huff in response. 
“Fine! Let's go then!”
You both return to the factory seeing a bomb squad rolling up to the first bomb. There were a total of 53, you had to prevent them from figuring out which wires to cut, or else they could diffuse all of them easily. You start running towards the squad unaware of the guards hurtling towards you. But instead of getting hurt, Zoro uses the ribbon you are attached to to swing you behind him allowing him to block the attack. 
“Be more careful woman!” He shouts while knocking out the guard. 
“Yeah, yeah, isn’t that what you’re here for!” You reply. 
You both get to the bomb squad, now both drawing your blades and fighting the guards. Somehow you both were able to fight perfectly in-sync with your wrists tied to each other. Using each other’s weights to shift, or move, allowing more guards to be taken out than if it was just one of you. 
Unfortunately, that didn’t last forever and a guard cut the ribbon. You both continued to fight the guards until they were no longer coming. Suddenly a series of strings surrounded the entire city, looking almost like a birdcage. You look at Zoro with worry on your face as the strings start to move. 
“We need to get away from this building and blow it up, NOW!” You say. 
“Yes, you run towards the city, I’m going to go try to stop those strings.” he says pointing you towards downtown. 
“No way! I’m coming with you!” You argue.
“No princess, you need to be safe in case we need to fall back on you. Help get these people to safety.” He orders you. And for some reason you listen, nodding your head. He turns to leave, but before he can, you grab his hand. Making eye contact to make sure he can hear you over all the rubble crashing and the people screaming. 
“Be careful… please.” You say with worry all over your face. Zoro takes his hand and cups your cheek.
“I will princess, don’t worry.” He smiles, his one good eye squinting proving it's a true smile. 
You watch as he runs towards the chaos. You quickly start helping children and the injured run towards the city center. You watch as buildings crumble and people scream. Once you get far enough from the factory and are confident nobody is close enough to it, you set off the detonator. Even as far as you were, you could hear Doflamingo's angry screams. You look up to see Luffy and Law fighting the flamboyant man. 
You quickly set up a shelter in the city center, and start helping people to safety. You watch and floods of people continue to run in from all directions, screaming. Some screaming out of fear and others out of looking for their lost loved ones. You know Zoro told you to stay, but you completed your mission, and the factory is gone. You decide to run back towards the edge of the city, helping people up as you go. Making sure people are able to run. You slowly make it closer and closer to the strings enclosing the city. 
You then see a group of people fighting off the strings, and somehow it's working. You decide to go help, and as you are running to them you hear an angry scream coming from the right to you. You look over and it's a guard coming at you with a sword. 
“Doflamingo told us to kill you! To do whatever it takes! That must mean you are a horrible person!” He says swinging at you. 
You quickly disarm him, and with your sword to his neck say, “Go! Run! Get out of here! Go find your family!” 
With fear in his eyes, he quickly runs away towards the city center. But what you weren’t expecting was to be pushed to the ground. Your head ringing and eyes fuzzy you look back to see who pushed you, expecting a panicked citizen. But no, it was Zoro. He pushed you because someone was about to shoot you. You stare at him in utter horror, seeing blood trickle out of his bullet wound. You cry out, not even able to hear yourself. You witness someone quickly cut down his shooter and you run over to him crying. 
“HEY, Hey!!! Zoro stay with me!” You yell while holding him. “Look at me!”
“That's all I do princess,” he says softly while smiling a pained smile at you. 
“Zo, you got to stay awake for me ok? You’re gonna be okay! Please!” You start to cry. 
You pet his hair and face, trying anything to keep him awake and with you. Suddenly gold specs start falling from the sky. And before you can figure out what's going on, the strings stop. 
You fight the blackness taking over your vision with everything you have. Pushing yourself farther than you can go. Tears fall on Zoro as you try to stay awake, but eventually fail. Your vision goes black and all you can feel is your head hitting the floor.
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major-mads · 7 months
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Chapter 5: The Dangerous Sky
John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)
Series Masterlist
A/N: We've been planning this chapter for months now, and it's so exciting to finally post it! It's another long one lol! Please comment or reblog and tell us what you think!! Thanks for reading!! <3
Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd
Word Count: 12.7k
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Monday, August 23, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich
Regensburg, Germany…the mission that earned the Hundredth its nickname was finally over.
Nine forts lost. 
Ninety men gone…just like that.
Ninety boys who would not return to their families. 
Among these ninety men was Curt. Buck and John were still in shock when their small group of officers tiredly pushed through the doors into their nissen hut. A few beds were made with fresh sheets, all remnants of their previous owners long gone.
The nightstands and walls that held the pictures Ruth had admired the week before were bare, a fresh slate for a fresh face that would be arriving soon. 
As he walked by Biddick’s bunk, Bucky couldn’t bear to look at it. The wound was still too fresh.
“Knowing Biddick,” he had told Buck in the Algerian desert,” He’s probably sipping on a bottle of schnapps right about now.”
Oh, how he wished he was right.
“Looks like you’ve got mail, Bucky,” Jack spoke up, pointing at the man’s bed that had a few letters thrown on the mattress.
Dropping off his bag with a thud, John sat on the edge of his bed and collected the letters silently, immediately recognizing the neat cursive handwriting on the front.
He let out a gentle sigh and smiled to himself, the corners of his lips curling just slightly. Flipping through the letters, he discovered that all three of them were from Ruth. 
August 17th, August 19th, and August 21st
John opened the first one, carefully unfolding the precious letter, and began to read.
John, Hope and I were barely able to sleep last night. Our worry for you both ate away at us, keeping us awake until the early hours of the morning. Based on what we’ve heard from Frank, that is around the time you were probably waking up in preparation for the mission. I pray for you constantly, John. I pray that God will look out for you, that He’ll protect you, and that He’ll allow you to come back to me. I also pray that Granny’s necklace does its job. Keep it close. I like to think that it’s a little piece of me with you. I don’t think I could imagine not seeing you again. My heart couldn’t take it. I’m afraid I have become very attached to you and your mustache, Major, so I am pushing this thought as far from my mind as I can. It has been difficult. As I sit writing this in the loud mess hall of our base, I can’t help but think back on the dance. That first night we shared with the buzzing crowd surrounding us…the way you calmed my nerves without a word, made me smile, made me laugh. You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known, John Egan, and I worry that you may never be rid of me if you continue to treat me so. I hold every second we’ve shared very near to my heart, and I can’t wait to see your handsome face again. If by some miracle you are back to base by the time this letter arrives, send me a response as soon as possible. I need to know you’re safe, Johnny. I’ll be waiting for you and your letter. Yours, Ruth Morgan
John could almost hear the nurse’s voice in his head reading her words, and his chest filled with warmth as he traced her name lightly with his finger. If he was being honest with himself, he was taken aback by her sincerity. No woman had ever expressed feelings like these to him before.
His relationships with women had always been about a night of pleasure, physical attraction with not much feeling behind it. 
But her words…
‘I worry that you may never be rid of me…’
Ruth was different in every way possible, and when he told her that first night, he had no idea just how much. Placing the letter onto his nightstand, he opened the second one from the 19th, his grin widening when he saw the first line.
Dear Hotshot, I wanted to be the first to inform you of the Yankees’ seven-to-five loss to the Indians today. Yes, I remember our truce, but seeing that you got one last jab on Monday before we parted, I decided that I had one left myself. This makes us even now. Now that that’s out of the way, I can revert to the loving sweetheart who is worried sick for your safe return. I really do mean it when I say you are always on my mind, John. I’ve managed to make it one singular day without seeing or writing to you before giving in and penning this letter. I simply need to get out my nerves and anxieties, thoughts and feelings, and this is the best way to do that. Hope and I went on an evacuation run yesterday, and as we were flying, we wondered if we were near the two of you. Did Buck tell you he proposed? Well, he didn’t technically, but he told Hope he wanted to marry her after the war. Needless to say, she’s been worried sick just as I have, maybe even more with Hugh gone as well (if that’s possible).
Eyes widening, John’s gaze rose from the letter and shot across the room to Gale, who was quietly talking with Hugh at his bunk as he unpacked his bag.
Why did he not tell him?
“Got any big news you wanna share with the class, Buck?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at him while holding up Ruth’s letter.
Gale confusedly looked over at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Rolling his eyes at Hugh, Buck sauntered over to John, standing over him with hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Hope Cleven,” the older man grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
A bashful smile appeared on Gale’s face. “I’ve got a ring and everything, now. It’ll be after all this is over.”
Standing to his feet, Bucky pulled him into a tight hug and lifted him off the ground. “Whenever it happens, I better be the best man! That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Yeah, yeah, you will be,” Buck chuckled as John put him down, releasing him from his grip. “Just don’t tell Hugh that.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Hugh shouted across the officer's hut causing Gale to groan. 
“Well, it makes sense. I am Buck’s best friend,” John retorted, sending a sly smirk Hugh’s way which only riled the man up further.
“Yeah, and Hope’s my sister. I’m his future brother-in-law.” 
Gale stepped back as Hugh stomped over to them, coming chest to chest with John who just continued to playfully glare down at him. 
“So what? You're a St. Louis fan,” Bucky pointed at him, a grin tugging at his lips. “That instantly makes you not best man material.” 
Hugh snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose you being a great Yankees fan makes you the right choice, huh?” 
“Absolutely,” John replied matter of factly. “How can you cheer for a team who lost 11-3 to the Pirates? The Pirates.” 
“At least we didn’t get shut out by the Indians.”
Gale knew this wasn’t going to end well. No one could insult the Yankees to Johnny’s face and get away with it...except Ruth, of course. Before John could find a comeback, Gale stepped up, moving to stand between the two men.
“Now, now. I’m not having you two fighting over being my best man. If it’s that much of a problem, I’ll make Demarco my best man and Meatball can be the ring bearer.” 
Neither of the men seemed too pleased with that outcome. 
“Not Demarco!” 
“Yes, Demarco.” 
John groaned, pursing his lips, and Hugh remained silent, looking at the ground solemnly at their childish behavior. 
“You should choose whoever you want to be your best man, but-” John began with a nod before Hugh interrupted.
“Yeah pick who you want, Gale. Hope will probably want me to walk her down the aisle anyway so I’ll probably be in the bridal party instead.” 
John snickered with raised brows as he imagined Hugh in a bridesmaid’s dress, but he fell silent when Gale elbowed him in the ribs, shooting him a glare..
“Come here,” Bucky pulled Gale into another hug and slapped his friend’s back, “Congratulations, Buck! You’re a helluva guy.” 
“The best,” Hugh added. 
As they stood there celebrating Buck’s life-changing news, the trio couldn’t help but think of their close friend who wasn’t. Their group got even smaller…
“Curt…he would,” John cleared his throat and nodded, forcing down the emotion that threatened to creep up his throat. “He would be happy for you, Buck.”
Gale’s eyes met Bucky’s and they mirrored the same emotions…hurt, regret, sadness. The men who came back never talked about those who didn’t, and both of them knew this was the one time they would.
“Yeah, he would,” Buck breathed, one side of his lips barely turning up into a mournful smile.
Silence filled the air around them there for a few moments, all three stuck in their minds until Gale spoke up.
“That from Ruth?” Buck asked, gesturing to the letter in Johnny’s hand.
He nodded once and sat down on his bunk with a soft smile, suddenly remembering the last half of Ruth’s letter he still had to read. “I’ve got another one to read after this one. Then I’ve gotta write her back.”
As Gale looked down at his friend’s lovesick gaze, he smiled to himself and shook his head. If someone had asked him if John Egan would be rushing to read love letters and send a response to a woman, one woman, whom he’d been seeing over a month, Buck Cleven would’ve told them they were crazy. 
“Tell her I said hello,” Gale said quietly, patting Johnny’s shoulder before returning to his bunk.
He muttered, “Yeah, sure,” before his eyes found the paragraph he left off on. The major’s aching heart was soothed by her words as he continued to read them.
We have been busying ourselves around the base, finding things to keep our mind off the fact that we don’t know where you are…if you’re safe. I’d like to think I’d know in my heart if you were gone. I pray I don’t ever have to face that feeling. Take care of each other wherever you are, alright? I know you watch Buck’s back like he watches yours, Johnny. Keep an eye on Hugh, as well. We both know he can be a troublemaker…like someone else I know. He, however, doesn’t have someone to reel him back in when he gets a little too crazy like you do. I know I’m writing this like you will receive it where you are right now, and not when you return to base, but I’m doing so because it’s the closest thing I have to talking to you.  I miss you, John. Please write when you get this. Praying for your safe return, Your Ruthie 
Scooting onto his bunk more comfortably, Bucky leaned back against the wall and opened the last letter. It was dated just two days prior, so at her current rate, another would be sent before his could reach her. 
My Hotshot, Please come home soon. The past five days have been torture. I go to see if I’ve gotten mail every single day, and each time, I leave a little more disheartened than I came. I feel my heart can’t beat inside my chest until I know you’re safe. I know you’re doing your job…a job that has to be done…but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sorry, John, but I don’t have too much time to write. We’re about to leave on an evac run. I long to hear your voice and feel your warm touch. Don’t forget your promise, hon. Come back to me…sooner rather than later. I can’t handle two boyfriends, remember? Missing you, Your Girl
Johnny swallowed thickly, lowering the letter to his lap as his mind raced. He knew that it very easily could’ve been him that went down that fateful day over Regensburg…it was all luck. 
There was a bigger chance than he’d like to admit that he’d go down, that they’d all go down, and the thought of never seeing Ruth again brought a burning to his chest. Reaching up, he grasped the necklace around his neck beside his dog tags, feeling the coolness under his fingers. 
Her Granny’s necklace sure did its job.
John brought the cross to his lips, kissing it softly as he silently thanked Virginia Morgan up above for the good luck.
Once the letters were carefully stored in the growing bundle of her correspondences he kept in his nightstand, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. Using his book as a backer, he began to write.
Ruthie, Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad that you kept your promise about the letters, and I’m also glad to say that I’ve managed to come back to you in one piece. By now, you’ve probably read about the raid in the papers. It was a tough one, and reading your letters helped more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for telling me of Buck’s “proposal.” The chump hadn’t even told me about it! So much for a best friend, right?  He says ‘hello,’ by the way.  Hugh thinks he has a chance at best man, but we all know that’s not gonna happen. You’ll be the maid of honor and I’ll be the best man…I can see it now: Buck crying like a baby and you looking like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve missed you, Ruthie. I still can’t believe that a wonderful woman like yourself would ever spare a poor sucker like me the time of day. Each time we part, I find myself replaying our every moment spent together. When we were stuck in the Algerian desert under the scorching sun, my thoughts always wandered back to you.  Your skin, your hair, your smile, your lips…the way you make me laugh. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever known, Ruth Morgan, and if I am never rid of you (as you wrote), I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world.  Stay safe up there on your runs for me. Your Hotshot, John Egan P.S. Tell your other boyfriend that I’m back and not willing to share.
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Saturday, August 28, 1944: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base
John, Gale, and Hugh were riding from their nissen huts to the mess hall when the familiar roar of a C-47 filled the air. The sound meant their girls were on base, and it filled them with excitement as they peddled faster towards the landing strip. 
“Did you know they were coming today?” Buck asked, quickly glancing over at Johnny and Hugh.
John shook his head, a lazy grin curving his lips. “No, Ruth didn’t mention it in her last letter.”
Gale nodded to himself but couldn’t shake the feeling deep down that something was wrong. As they approached the airstrip, Colonel Harding appeared, calling out to John.
“Bucky! I need to talk to you,” he yelled from the balcony of the nearby flight tower.
Holding in a groan, Johnny nodded at Hugh and turned his bike toward the tower. “Tell Ruth I’ll see her in a minute.”
It all happened so quickly.
The flight had been uneventful. 
All their patients were stable, and Frank and his fellow pilot were singing together in the cockpit. Hope and Ruth had taken their seats and were enjoying resting their legs for a while. 
That was until the Ack-Ack’s had started firing.
Hope hissed, resting her palm against her injured thigh as she slid out of the plane. The bloodied bandage did nothing to stem the steady flow of thick blood. It hadn't been gushing with a constant flow but seemed to increase as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. 
Memories of the shrapnel piercing her thigh, having pranged around the aircraft before embedding itself into her, flashed in her mind. Looking back, she shouldn’t have pulled it out, but despite Ruth’s protests, she was stubborn, and without the blonde’s quick thinking at applying pressure and a tourniquet, she wondered if this would have been a different situation. Hope hated feeling weak and not being in control, but her stubbornness could have cost her life. 
“You need to get that leg checked out, Hope,” Ruth glanced over, her usually soft features etched with fear and concern, but Hope, still being her stubborn self, shook her head. 
“Ruth’s right, Hope. It’s a bad wound and we’d all feel a lot better if you got it checked out,” Frank added, helping the blonde with getting a stretcher into the ambulance. 
“We need to tend to our patients first,” Hope shuffled over to the nearest man on a stretcher, quickly informing the stretcher-bearers of his condition before they carted him towards the ambulance. 
Glancing at his watch quickly, the pilot cursed under his breath. “I’ve gotta go radio the base and let them know what happened.” He pointed at Hope as he hurried off. “Get it checked.”
“Do you need that leg looked at, Miss?” One of the young men asked, “There’s room in the ambulance.” 
Hope shook her head, politely declining any assistance. That was until two familiar faces came rushing over, a mixture of fear, anger, and horror on their faces as they noticed the side of their C-47.
“What the hell happened, Girls?” Hugh asked, glancing between his sister, then Ruth, then back to Hope. “Shit! You’re bleeding.” He reached forward but Hope pulled away, shrugging him off.
“I'm fine, Hugh. It's just a scratch. I'll get it looked at later,” she dismissed him.
By now she could feel Gale’s eyes boring into her, his sharp blues missing nothing. He felt her discomfort as she hobbled along, trying to avoid resting her hand against the wound to draw attention to it. 
“That looks a hell of a lot more than a scratch, Hope,” Gale stepped forward to stand beside Hugh, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act. “You’re covered in blood.” 
Hope looked down at her uniform, noticing that from her waist down both her legs were soaked in blood and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. “I said I'm fine,” Hope snapped, exasperated and in pain. 
She just wanted to do her job, why couldn't they understand that?
“What happened, Hope?” Gale’s eyes were dead serious as they watched her, clearly annoyed but wracked with concern. Hope just looked back at him, unable to move or speak for fear she might cry. 
“It was the Ack-Ack’s,” Ruth quietly spoke up, and the men turned to see her own blood-soaked uniform, her hands still shaking at her side. “The plane was hit by flak fire. A chunk of shrapnel went flying around… got Hope in the thigh,” Ruth sighed and let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing that Hope might not forgive her for the next part. “She pulled it out herself. We applied pressure and a dressing but she needs to see a doctor.” 
If looks could kill, Ruth would be six feet under the airbase by now. 
“YOU DID WHAT?” Gale cried out, his face white with horror but his sharp eyes burning in a way none of them had ever seen before. “Are you some sort of idiot? Everyone knows not to pull things out of a wound. You could have bled out.” Gale’s chest was heaving as he fought the anger that built up within him. His hands clenched in fists at his side as he continued. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 
Hugh reached out to him, trying to cool the situation down but Hope intervened. 
“I had patients on board. I'm no good to them if I bleed out everywhere. I thought quickly and went with the best possible outcome.” 
Gale snorted, waving his hands out in front of him, “Of course you did. You thought of the best possible outcome for you. What about the rest of us, Hope? What would happen if you had died?” 
Hope sent him a hostile glare, jaw clenched and her lip curling slightly as she spoke, “Do you realize how selfish you sound?” 
Gale scoffed, “I’m selfish. Did you for one-second think of what we'd have done if you had died?” 
Despite being outside surrounded by wounded soldiers, you could have heard a pin drop. 
Hope’s eyes scanned over the group, looking into the faces of her friends and seeing the same hurt looks. Ruth’s face was still tilted toward the ground with closed eyes as she listened to the bickering. The fear, the explosions, and the sound of Hope’s pained scream replayed in the woman’s mind, and she felt like her heart was going to explode inside her chest. 
It was too much. It was all too much.
Ruth was vaguely aware of the rest of the group leaving the airfield, Buck trailing off after Hope as she stormed away, and Hugh marching off as well. She stood there silently, trying to keep herself from falling apart…
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The second Bucky was dismissed by Colonel Harding, he jogged down the stairs to his bike outside. Pedaling to the airstrip, he could only think of Ruth’s smiling face that he would soon be seeing. The hum of engines reached his ears as he turned around the corner of a shortcut, and the sight of her familiar figure standing before the C-47 sparked even more excitement within him. A grin formed on his face and he pedaled faster, eager to greet her. 
As the plane came into better view, his smirk fell as he noticed a giant hole in its fuselage. Johnny’s gaze snapped back to Ruth, and when he looked closer, his initial excitement transformed into horror. The world seemed to blur when his eyes focused on the blood-soaked flight uniform that clung to her. Panic seized him, and without a second thought, he leaped off the still-moving bicycle, letting it clatter to the concrete behind him as he sprinted toward Ruth, his boots pounding against the hard ground.
“Ruth! Ruth, what happened?” he cried desperately, his voice echoing off the nearby buildings. 
Johnny reached her in a whirlwind, taking her face in his hands, his panicked blue eyes inspecting her face intensely, scanning for any sign of injury. He then moved to her torso, his hands running over her body frantically.
As his hands desperately searched Ruth’s uniform, his voice trembled with fear. “You hurt?”
For a moment, she didn’t respond, and then suddenly, her tear-filled eyes met his. The Major’s hands, once frantic in their search, were now pleading. "Ruthie, come on. Talk to me. I need to know you’re okay." 
She gently placed her hands over his, stopping him. “It’s not mine,” she finally whispered, her voice strained. “We flew into a flack field, and, uh, Hope. She got hit in the leg. Buck’s with her now.”
‘Ruth’s okay,’ John repeated in his frazzled mind. “She’s okay.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips and John wrapped his arms around her, pulling the woman into him tightly. Her head was tucked into his chest as uncontrollable tremors ran through her body. 
“You’re okay, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmured against her temple. “I’m here.”
His heart broke as he felt a sob rack through her body, her weak cries reaching his ears. “I-I was so scared, John. I thought we were gonna die.”
Bucky pulled back slightly and moved his hands to grasp her tear-streaked cheeks gently, her pain-filled blue eyes nearly tearing him apart. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, leaning down to meet her gaze as he wiped her tears softly with the pad of his thumbs. “You didn’t, okay? It’s over now. You’re safe, Ruth. It’s over.”
She took a shaky deep breath, trying to calm herself, but another cry fought its way up her throat and the nurse let out a choked sob. With each breathless gasp that left her lips, Ruth’s heart pounded faster and she suddenly felt her chest tightening.
John knew what the startings of a panic attack looked like, and he tried to recall how Franny had taught him to calm Lena down all those years ago when they were teenagers. Seeing Ruth’s usually bright and loving personality in such a fearful and panicked state sent his mind into overdrive.
“Ruth,” he urged, his hands still cradling her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her watery gaze met his, her breaths coming out in short uneven gasps. 
“I need you to breathe.”
Taking a deep breath through his nose, John nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”
Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”
“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out.”
After a moment, she shakily followed suit, her eyes never leaving his. The warmth of John’s hand enveloping hers and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch grounded her in the moment. Gradually, her breathing began to regulate, the erratic gasps giving way to steady inhales and exhales. Johnny watched her closely, his eyes searching for any signs that the attack might return.
“There you go,” he murmured. “Just keep breathing with me, doll.”
With each measured breath, Ruth felt the tightness of her chest gradually ease, the weight of her fear lifting. After a few minutes, her breath completely steadied, and the panic attack passed, leaving her drained but calmer.
Ruth leaned into John’s comforting embrace, her forehead moving to rest against his chest as she let out a shuddering sigh. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this, covered in blood and…and a mess.”
John placed a soft kiss to her temple. “None of that. You’re okay. That’s all I care about.”
As she stepped back into his arms, her eyes welled up with tears once more. “But look at you,” she protested weakly, gesturing to the smears of blood that marred his brown button-up undershirt. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”
Bucky shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This old thing? I’ve got a million of ‘em anyways, Ruthie. It’s just a shirt. Wasn’t even my Sunday’s best,” he reassured her gently. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t wear my lucky jacket today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.  “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly led her toward the nearby operations building, still feeling her body shaking beneath his touch. As they turned the corner, they were met with Bubbles walking past a jeep. His face scrunched in concern and the usual smile fell from his lips at the sight of the bloodied woman. 
“Shit! What happened, Bucky?” he asked, quickly approaching them. “Do I need to go get Doc Stover?”
“No,” Ruth piped up, mustering the best smile she could. Even Bubbles could see straight through it.
John shook his head. “We’re alright, but I’ve gotta take your ride, Bubbles. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s not mine. It’s Kidd’s.”
“Even better,” he smirked, opening the passenger door for Ruth before climbing behind the wheel. “Tell him I owe him one.”
Bubbles raised a brow with a barely concealed grin. “He’s gonna be pissed, sir.”
“Ehh, he’ll get over it.”
Nodding, the lieutenant turned to enter the building, but Bucky called out to him. “Oh! Bubbles, could you grab my bike? It’s somewhere near the ‘47 back there. Tell Jack it’s his for the day! Thanks!”
As the jeep roared to life, John tucked Ruth under his arm much like he did the night of the dance, and then they were off. She laid her head on his shoulder and her eyes slowly fluttered shut, sleep calling to her after the day’s events.
John peered down at her with a saddened smile as he took in her splotchy face and the blood that seemed to coat the bottom half of her uniform. Some of it even clung to her hair, the light blonde strands covered by the sticky, maroon substance. 
As he felt her finally relax in his hold, he let out a shaky breath, his heart finally beating regularly in his chest again. The Major knew how terrifying flack encounters were, and he was trained in how to handle it…well, he was used to it. Ruth, on the other hand, was not. It was her job to keep men alive while in the air, not worrying about being shot out of the sky by some German on an anti-aircraft gun.
Rage bubbled from within him at the thought. If the blast was just a little closer, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be holding her in his arms. If one more-
“I missed you,” she murmured, breaking Bucky from his thoughts as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I was so worried about you, John.”
He took a steadying breath, pushing down his anger as he ran his hand along Ruth’s arm softly. “I missed you, too, doll. And I guess we’re even now, ‘cause I think I just lost ten years of my life back there.”
A tired laugh escaped her lips. “Imagine feeling that way for 9 days.”
Johnny could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and he squeezed her shoulder, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her hairline.
“Get some shut-eye, alright? We’ve got a stop to make before we go back to my hut.”
She nodded against him as her eyes fluttered closed again, sleep quickly overtaking her. 
As she slept soundly under his arm, he pulled up to a hut with a familiar figure smoking outside. “Miss Tatty,” John whisper-shouted, careful not to wake up Ruth. “Could you do me a favor?”
Raising a brow, she took a drag of her cigarette and approached the jeep, her smile falling when she saw the nurse’s bloody figure beside him. “She alright?”
“Flack hit her stick,” He sighed, running his free hand down his face. “She’s alright, but Hope got pinked in the thigh. Scared her half to death.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Could you find some extra clothes for her? She’s gonna need some fresh ones.”
Tatty nodded at him, a determined expression gracing her face. “I’ll get some now.”
It only took the woman a few minutes to emerge from the hut with a small bundle in her hand. “This should be enough,” she said, placing the bag into the back of the jeep. “But please stop by again if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Tatty. I owe ‘ya one.”
A tiny chuckle left her lips as she pointed her finger between Ruth and John. “Just don’t screw this one up, John, and we can call it even.”
“I don’t plan on it,” he grinned toothily, putting the jeep back in drive and starting down the road again. John’s hut was across the base, and he spent the short drive tapping the steering wheel to the tune of One O’Clock Jump while stealing glances at the sleeping woman in his arms. 
When the jeep rumbled to a stop outside the officer’s hut, Johnny rubbed Ruth’s shoulder. “Wake up, doll. We’re here,” he said gently, a soft smile playing at his lips as she lazily sat up, blinking away the sleep in her swollen eyes. “You need to get washed up.”
Ruth lazily looked around them and realized where they were.  “How long was I out?”
“Not long. Only about half an hour.”
Her eyes fell to her lap, the slick blood still staining the uniform. She was suddenly aware of how terrible she felt. It was everywhere. On her skin, in her hair…
“I feel disgusting,” she whispered, holding up her red-stained hands. 
“I know, doll. Here are some clothes you can change into after you shower.” Bucky reached back and grabbed the small bag that Tatty had given him, squeezing her shoulder before getting out of the jeep. “Let me go grab my kit for you and I’ll be right back.”
The second the door shut behind him, Ruth’s gaze fell back down to her hands, on the crusted blood under her nails, on Hope’s blood. At the thought, a strike of anxiety coursed through her, and the nurse could feel her heartbeat speed up. The shaking of the plane and the sound of the hot metal flying through the cabin rang in her ears as she closed her eyes tightly.
Among the chaos in her mind, she heard Johnny’s calming words. 
‘I need you to breathe…in and out.’
Following his voice, she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm her racing heart. Ruth repeated the action and ached for his comforting presence beside her. 
‘Breathe. In and out.’
Inside his hut, Johnny was strutting to his bunk when he heard a soft snore from his left. His eyes followed the sound to a bed across the room, a smile growing on his face when he realized it was Buck and Hope. Her dark hair was splayed on his chest, and Gale had an arm around her waist as the couple peacefully slept, their faces free from worry.
It was the most peaceful slumber Bucky had ever seen Gale have throughout their three-year friendship. 
He let out a chuckle under his breath and quietly gathered his shower pack, sparing them one last glance before closing the door behind him. As John emerged from the hut, Ruth’s eyes rose to his figure. His gaze locked with hers and he could once again see the worry in her blue eyes. He quickly approached the jeep but was stopped when someone called out to him. 
“Bucky?”
Johnny turned to his left, seeing Majors Dye and Veal jogging toward him with wide eyes.
“You good?” Dye asked, eyeing the smears of blood on his shirt. Bill just stared at him warily, the only emotion on his face visible by the slight crease in his brow.
 “I’m fine, boys,” Bucky replied with a smirk, his eyes floating to Ruth over their shoulder. “Thanks for the concern, but you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
The pair followed his gaze, sharing a silent look when they saw Ruth in the jeep. 
“Wait,” Bill spoke up gravelly, nodding towards John’s shirt. “Is that her blood?”
Scratching his mustache, John glanced at Ruth before lowering his voice and leaning closer to them. “No, but it’s Hope’s. Buck’s in there with her. They’ve both had a real shitty day.”
Dye nodded and sent her a sympathetic smile which she shakily returned. “We’ll tell the guys to steer clear for a little while.”
John could tell Ruth was teetering again, and he clapped Glen’s back, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked back to the jeep, his attention completely on his girl. He rounded the bumper to lean against the passenger side, offering her his hand. “Come on, let’s go get you squeaky clean again, Ruthie.”
Nodding silently, she let him lead her to the bathhouse. Ruth stood in the corner while he turned on the shower, the hot steam already fogging up the mirrors when he stepped back and held his shower pack out to her. “I-uh don’t know how hot you like it, so I just-”
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she replied softly, taking the pack. ”Thank you.”
He stared at her for a few moments and took in the pure exhaustion on her features, his hand instinctively reaching up to push some hair behind her ear as he spoke softly. “I’ll be right outside. Gotta make sure no one sneaks a peek of my girl.”
Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips before backing toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, her voice stopped him in his tracks.
“John?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Can, um, can you stay?” she asked nervously, her eyes trained on the floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”
As Ruth’s request hung in the air, John’s mind went into overdrive. He felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing hard, he struggled to find the right words. 
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he finally replied softly. 
Even as he spoke the words, his mind was in turmoil and his thoughts spiraled out of control. John was unable to tear his gaze from her as she slowly began to unzip her flight uniform, revealing her red-tinged tank top underneath. When Ruth caught his stare, her cheeks flushed.
“Um, John,” her voice broke through the silence, her tone hesitant. “Could you…could you look away please?”
“Right,” Bucky muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water as he snapped out of his trance and spun to face the door. “Sorry.”
As she continued to undress, John tried to focus on anything other than what was happening behind him. He stared at the cracked cement floor, willing himself to remain composed, to keep his thoughts in check. When he heard the rustle of the curtain opening and closing, he let out a shaky breath as relief flooded through him.
Despite his efforts to focus on anything else, his thoughts kept drifting back to the woman on the other side of the curtain, her presence a constant in his mind. Bucky knew he should respect her privacy and give her a moment to decompress after the day’s stressful events, but the temptation proved too strong and before he could stop himself, he found his gaze drifting back to the shower.
John stole a glance through the opaque shower curtain, his body heating up at the sight of Ruth's silhouette moving gracefully beneath the spray of water. But as quickly as the temptation came, a wave of shame washed over him, and he quickly averted his gaze, chastising himself for his lack of self-control.
He traced the outline of her body in his mind, and then the shame came rolling right back again. Bucky knew he had to take his mind off of the woman…or at least try to…so he began to sing under his breath.
“Never saw the sun shining so bright,
Never saw things looking so right.
Watching the days hurrying by,
When you’re in love, my how they fly,
Blue days, all of ‘em gone,
Nothin’ but blue skies from now on…”
Ruth stood beneath the warm spray of water, letting it cascade over her weary body, washing away the dirt and grime of the day. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and eased the tension that had settled deep within her bones. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh of relief, allowing herself a moment of rest.
As John’s soft singing filled the air, Ruth couldn’t help but smile. His voice, though not the most melodic, calmed her frayed nerves and eased the knot of fear that had lodged itself in her chest. 
“John,” she called out over the sound of the water.
“Yeah?” Came his muffled reply.
“Could you sing a little louder?”
Bucky ducked his head with a grin and raised his voice, switching to a new song.
“And when I told them how beautiful you are,
They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe me.
Your lips, your eyes, your curly hair,
Are in a class beyond compare,
You’re the loveliest girl that one could see…”
Ruth closed her eyes and let his deep voice wash over her, allowing herself to get lost in the rhythm of the song. 
“And when I tell them, 
And I’m cert’nly gonna tell them,
That I’m the man whose wife one day you’ll be.
They’ll never believe me. They’ll never believe me. 
That from this great big world you’ve chosen me!”
As she listened to him, she began to scrub the blood from her skin, feeling a wave of emotion course through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the memories of the day flooded her mind, but John’s voice calmed her, and she rapidly blinked them away. She knew that she wasn’t alone…that she had someone to stay by her side…someone to take care of her. 
It took her a few washes to get the dried blood from her hair, and she sighed in relief when she could run her fingers through the strands without getting caught in a tangle. The water turned off with a click, and she stuck her head out the curtain, making sure only her face was visible. 
“Could you pass me my towel?”
Johnny turned back towards her and quickly averted his gaze as reached for her towel hanging nearby. “Here,” he said, extending it towards her without making eye contact before facing the door once again.
“Thanks,” she replied, accepting the towel and beginning to dry herself off.
Ruth quickly got dressed, making a mental note to thank Tatty later, and ran the towel over her sopping wet hair. Once fully ready, she spoke up, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. “Okay, you can turn around now.”
Turning towards her slowly, John’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in. Her short blonde hair was slightly tousled from the shower, its natural waves making an appearance, and her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. Ruth wore some navy pants that fit her perfectly with a dark, oversized wine colored sweater. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in her eyes, Johnny’d never seen something as beautiful in his 27 years.
“Wow,” John chuckled, approaching her slowly and cupping her cheek. “Would you look at that. Damn gorgeous.”
Her cheeks flushed even deeper at his words, a shy smile tugging the corners of her lips as she leaned into his touch. “You’re such a flirt,” she murmured.
Without hesitation, Johnny leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss, his hand weaving into her blonde waves. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the bathhouse. 
As he slowly leaned back, Ruth’s eyes caught sight of the raised scabs on his nose, cheekbone, and forehead. She reached up tentatively, barely touching them as she inspected his face. 
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t even notice before.”
John’s gaze softened as he met her worried eyes. “Just a few scratches, Ruthie. Nothing to worry about.”
She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Was it from Regensburg?”
The Major hesitated for a moment, the mental image of Curt’s plane exploding flashing in his mind before he could stop the thought. He nodded once and forced his face to remain neutral. “Yeah.”
Little did he know that the blonde could see the pain in his blue eyes.
Ruth shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve been taking care of me all day, and I-I should have noticed sooner. I’m sorry.”
He reached out, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m really fine, doll. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
He forced all thoughts of the mission from his mind, focusing on the present.
“You’re lucky,” he smirked down at her, mischief floating in his eyes. “I don’t give free concerts to just anyone.”
Ruth couldn’t hold in a laugh at his remark and the soft sound echoed through the small room. “Well, lucky for you,” she teased back. “If you gave out tickets for free, nobody would show up anyway.”
John rolled his eyes playfully, his heart swelling with relief as he listened to Ruth’s laughter, even her small smile warming him from the inside out. It eased the tension and guilt in his chest and filled him with a sense of happiness that he couldn’t quite put into words. He leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against his lips.
“You feeling any better?”
“I feel clean,” Ruth sighed wistfully. “Tired but clean.”
Gathering all her used items from the bathroom, she threw them into the dirty bin in the corner of the room. Bucky took her hand and brought them to his hut’s door, holding a finger to his lips.
“What?” she yawned as he opened the door for her. “What are-”
She cut herself off when she spotted them. Buck and Hope were still sleeping in each other’s arms, and a wide smile formed on her face when she looked up at Johnny who was already peering down at her. 
‘Hope’s fine,’ she thought. ‘They must have made up.’
Ruth had to throw a hand over her mouth to keep in the excited giggle that threatened to escape her lips, and John shook his head, tugging her away from the couple to his bunk.
She sank into his bed and inhaled deeply. Ruth closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of his pillow, a mixture of his cologne and the army-issue shampoo they all used. It was a comforting smell, one that made her feel at ease.
As Ruth settled onto the bed, John made his way to the footlocker at the foot of the bunk, rummaging around for a clean shirt. Turning onto her back, she stared up at him as his fingers loosened the knot of his tie, pulling it free from around his neck. He tossed it into his footlocker before moving on to the buttons of his brown uniform shirt, revealing the pink-splotched tank top beneath.
Ruth couldn’t tear her gaze away if she tried.
She watched in silence, her face burning as he shrugged off the shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. When he finally pulled off the tank top, leaving him shirtless, a lump formed in her throat and heat surged through her. 
‘Get it together, Ruth,’ she thought. 
John caught her gaze and smirked, raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands on his hips. “So you can look, but I can’t?”
Ruth sputtered for a moment, her cheeks turning an impossibly deeper shade of red, but John chuckled softly. “I’m just joking, doll. Look all you want.“
She couldn’t help but admire him openly, her eyes tracing the lines of his chest and the curve of his shoulders. He was undeniably handsome…she knew that. But seeing him like this took her attraction to a whole new level and her heart fluttered in her chest.
Ruth eyed the few things that dangled from his neck: his dog tags, a small Virgin Mary pendant, and her Granny’s cross. 
Ruth silently thanked her Grandmother for bringing him back to her. 
Grabbing a fresh shirt from his footlocker, John slipped it on and kicked off his shoes before settling onto the bed, sliding back to sit against the wall. Ruth shifted to make herself comfortable and rested her head on his lap as Johnny’s fingers brushed over her damp hair.
They talked quietly for a few minutes, their conversation meandering aimlessly as they both enjoyed the other’s company. Soon, Ruth’s eyelids grew heavy, and her words began to drift off mid-sentence. Bucky watched her fondly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as she slipped into sleep, her warm breaths against his thigh.
Sighing, he carefully reached for his beat-up copy of Guys and Dolls on his nightstand and began to read, holding it up with one hand. His other hand rested on Ruth’s head as he absentmindedly stroked her hair as he read, only lifting it to flip the page. 
‘Only a rank sucker will think of taking two peeks at Dave the Dude’s doll, because while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing he will get sored up at the second peek, and Dave the Dude is certainly not a man to have sored up on you. But this Waldo Winchester is one hundred percent sucker…’
The only sounds filling the room were each of the four’s quiet breaths, and John was able to read a few chapters before he heard rustling across from him. He lowered his book to see Buck sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” John grinned, his voice hushed.
Gale’s head lifted to get a look at his friend and a chuckle escaped him seeing Johnny with a wide-mouthed Ruth lying in his lap, her blonde hair covering his thighs. “Look at us.”
“Yeah. Who would’ve thought.”
Silence filled the air again as each thought of the woman beside them. A few moments later, John broke the stillness of the nissen hut. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s…She’s good,” Gale replied as he fought to keep a blush from his cheeks at the memory of their confession and what came after. “How’s Ruth?”
Johnny shook his head with a saddened sigh. “Real shaken up, Buck. You should’ve seen her earlier. I was…I was worried.”
“I know the feeling. She doin’ any better now?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Finally cracked a smile and seemed herself when she saw you two.”
A gentle smile tugged at Buck’s lips as his gaze drifted down to Hope who continued to sleep soundly. Her breathing was shallow and her nose wrinkled occasionally as she dreamed. At some point, she had moved her left hand to clutch onto his shirt and he could see the ring glisten in the dim light. “I popped the question.”
“So it’s official?”
“Yep. 
“Congratulations, Buck,” Johnny smiled, a brow raising a few seconds later. “I am gonna be your best man, right?”
With an eye roll, Gale nodded at him. “Of course, you are, lardass.”
“Good.”
“As if I could watch Hope walk down the aisle without you by my side.”
“Exactly. You'll be crying like a baby anyway. I’ll have to bring plenty of tissues,” John chuckled, pleased that a sleeping Hope was keeping Gale anchored to the bed. Otherwise, he thought something would have been thrown his way. 
“I can’t say you’re much better,” Gale pointed out, nodding his head toward them. “Look at you. Never thought I’d see the day that John Egan wrote love letters, much less something like this.”
John chuckled and thought about how different his life had been since that day in July. “Well, I finally found one worth writing to. Ruth…she’s uh, she-”
 As if she had heard her name, the blonde stirred on his lap, stretching and yawning loudly before her eyes made contact with Gale who smiled at her.
“Good morning, Gale greeted her, causing Ruth to blush. She hadn’t realized she had an audience watching her wake up and only hoped she hadn’t been snoring loudly. 
She rolled onto her back to face John and was met with a gentle smile and loving blue eyes gazing down at her. “Hey there. Feeling better?”
“Still tired,” Ruth sighed and sat up, rubbing away the sleepers that had accumulated in her swollen eyes. “But I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”
John had to hold in a laugh at the way her blonde waves stuck up in all different directions from where they had dried on his lap. “Well, your wish is my command, doll, so what do you wanna do?”
“What is there to do?”
“Have you seen the hard stands yet?” Gale spoke up. “Lemmons might even have Billy and Sammy over there.”
“Billy and Sammy?”
“Two little squirts that Kenny’s taken under his wing,” John answered with a nod.
At the mention of the kids, Ruth’s face lit up, and a wide grin grew on her lips. All evidence of sleep disappeared from her features as she excitedly clambered off the major’s lap and stood to her feet, brushing her fingers through her hair to tame the wild locks.
As he watched her, Johnny felt a pang of sadness at the sight of Ruth’s sudden enthusiasm. It hit him then, that she probably hadn’t seen many kids since becoming a nurse. As a teacher, she was surrounded by them every day, and now, their innocent faces were likely a distant memory in her mind.
“They’re a handful, those two,” Bucky chuckled, rising to his feet beside her. “But they’re good kids. Come on, let’s go see if Kenny’s putting em’ to work over at the hard stands.”
Walking out of the hut, the couple sent Buck a “thanks” as they walked by him. Ruth’s eyes fell on Hope’s still sleeping figure, her heart twinging at the memories of the morning, but she didn’t worry. Gale was there to take care of her.
John and Ruth spent the short ride to the hard stands talking about their weeks, and he almost let the news of Gale and Hope’s engagement slip a few times before they rumbled to a stop in front of Muggs’ hardstand. 
He was determined to keep his mouth shut for once. Bucky knew Hope should be the one to tell Ruth about her engagement, and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin the surprise.
Hopping out of the jeep, John’s eyes searched for Lemmons. “Kenny?”
Ruth glanced over at him skeptically. “He here?”
“Should be. He said he’d fix the old girl up today.”
They approached the fort, and Ruth was shocked by its sheer size. Yes, her C-47 was big, but the B-17 was different. Her plane carried supplies, people, almost anything…but this was a weapon. A weapon that took the fight to Hitler’s doorstep. 
It really did look like a fortress.
Ruth reached up and trailed her fingers along its yellow nose paint, the metal rivets cool from the chilly English air as she followed John to the small hatch just in front of the right wing. Before he could stick his head into the hatch, a small boy’s face appeared sideways out the hole. 
“Boo!” 
Both the adults jumped, Ruth more so than Bucky, and the man jokingly groaned. “Billy! I thought Lemmons was supposed to be keeping you out of trouble?”
“Did I scare you, Major?”
John raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”
“Yes,” he giggled as another boy stuck his head out the hole.
Sammy.
“Whatcha think, Ruthie?” Bucky looked over at her with his hands on his hips. “They get me?”
She grimaced playfully and nodded. “He about jumped out of his boots, boys.”
They shared a shocked look, then broke out into cheers, their faces disappearing from the hatch. “Lemmons! We got him! We finally got him!”
 “They’ve been trying to scare me for weeks,” he explained, a fond grin tugging at his lips. “Finally got me.”
Before Ruth could respond, a pair of feet dangled from the hatch, and John helped each of the boys to the ground, setting them down in front of the couple. They went running off toward the tail, and then a few seconds later, a ground crewman hopped out of the hatch, his dark curls peeking out from under his beanie.
“So they finally got ya, huh, Bucky?” he asked.
“Looks like it,” he replied.
Ken’s eyes fell to Ruth beside John and he smiled, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “You must be Ruth! I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out a hand, “I’m Ken Lemmons, but you can call me Kenny. I’m one of the ground crew chiefs.”
“Nice to meet you, Kenny. I hope you’ve heard good things,” Ruth answered, cheeks flushing at the notion that John had talked about her. She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes before shaking Ken’s hand. “There’s no telling what this one’s said.”
“Don’t worry,” Lemmons chuckled. “Only good things. I promise.”
Giggles sounded from the back of the plane, and Ruth leaned to see them, her gaze instantly drawn to the boys. Following her eyes, Ken called them over. “Come here! The Major’s got someone he wants y’all to meet!”
They bounded over, just noticing her presence even though she had spoken to them minutes before. 
John grinned and wrapped an arm around Ruth's shoulders as he introduced her to the boys. "Boys, this is Ruth. She's my girl."
The boys' eyes widened in disbelief, and Billy blurted out, "No way! You're way too pretty!"
Ruth busted out laughing at their innocence. "Ohhh, he’s not so bad once you get past the mustache…and the jacket…and the bad jokes…and-"
“Alright, alright. We get your point,” he groaned, pretending to be offended by dramatically clutching his heart. "Way to kick a man when he’s down. Besides, that’s a lie about the mustache."
She shrugged and ignored his question. “Nice to meet you, boys.”
They exchanged mischievous grins, clearly enjoying the banter. "Miss Ruth," Sammy said, using his hand to hide his words from John. "You’re way out of his league."
John still heard the comment and raised an eyebrow, playing along. "You think so? Well, I guess I'll just have to keep her around to make me look good."
Ruth nudged him playfully. "Smooth recovery, Major."
The boys shared another toothy and excited glance before launching into a barrage of questions. “Do you live on base? Are you a nurse? Do you fly planes? Have you ever shot down a Jerry plane?”
Ruth laughed at their enthusiasm, sparing John a blissful look as she felt almost at home in the kids' presence. “I’m a flight nurse, and no, I don’t live at Thorpe Abbotts. I fly in planes but leave the actual flying to the pilots. I just take care of my patients and leave the rest to them.”
Billy and Sammy listened intently, hanging on her every word. “Do you ever see any action?” Billy asked.
Ruth hesitated, the day’s events flashing in her mind, but a warm, reassuring hand on her back brought her back to the present. “Sometimes,” she replied carefully. “But most of the time, my friend Hope and I are too busy taking care of the wounded soldiers and getting them safely back home to notice.”
“Wow,” they marveled.
“So what do y’all do around here?”
Out of the blue, Sammy grabbed Ruth’s hand, tugging her from the men. “Come on, Miss Ruth! We have to show you the plane!”
“Yeah, you gotta see the tail gun up close!” Billy added eagerly, his toothy grin stretching ear to ear. “And the ball turret!”
Ruth glanced back at John before allowing herself to be led away by the boys. As he watched them go, he shook his head at how Ruth affected everyone she met…she was captivating.
Ken and Johnny began conversing about the Muggs’ repairs from the previous day, but the Major’s attention kept drifting back to Ruth. After the boys gave her a plane tour, the trio moved to a grassy patch nearby, plopping onto the ground with Ruth sandwiched between the two boys. They continued their animated conversation, and their laughter filled the air as she told a story of a soldier who got airsick and threw up on her shoes. 
As he watched them, a thought crossed John Egan’s mind. A thought so unexpected that it caught him off guard.
She’d make a great mom.
The realization startled him. He’d never entertained thoughts of a future like that before, never met a woman who made him long to settle down and raise a family. But there he was, watching Ruth with Billy and Sammy, and the idea didn’t seem as far-fetched as before.
Ken noticed Bucky’s distraction and nudged him gently. “She’s great with ‘em.”
“She is,” he breathed, grinning as the boys broke into another fit of giggles across the hard stand. “Ruth was a teacher before she became a nurse.”
“A teacher?”
“Yeah.”
Lemmons nodded. “Makes sense. What age?”
“Junior high.”
“Well, that’s how she can handle you, then,” Kenny laughed. “She’s used to wranglin’ 13-year-olds all day!”
John threw an arm over the younger man’s shoulders, jostling him lightly. “You know, you’re probably right,” he cackled, his eyebrows raised. “You’re wise beyond your years. Sometimes I forget you’re still a squirt yourself.”
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Once Billy and Sammy had to go home for supper, the couple drove back to the Officer’s Hut to catch up with Gale and Hope. Later that evening, Hugh arrived with food for the two couples, Meatball following at his heels. The large husky made a beeline for Hope, greeting her at the side of the bed. 
“Hey, Meatball,” Hope mumbled, leaning as far as she could to ruffle the dog’s fur. Meatball groaned when she began scratching his ear, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head, expressing his enjoyment. “Who's a good boy?” Meatball hopped up on the bed, snuggling into Hope’s side. 
“You can keep him if you want. The damn thing keeps howling. It’s driving me insane,” Hugh complained, passing Hope a bowl of steaming soup. “When Demarco gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind, leaving me to watch his dog all afternoon.” 
Hope accepted the soup gratefully but could only manage a few mouthfuls until the wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she placed the bowl down. 
“Ugh, I feel so sick.” 
Gale was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on the small of her back as she bent over, head in her hands. Ruth looked anxiously at John from their seats on his bed and started to put down her bowl to help when Hope spoke up.
 “It’s okay, Gale, it’s just the morphine,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, to which he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. 
Hugh snickered, “He didn’t get you pregnant while I was away, did he?” 
“With us in here? Sounds like a nightmare,” John retorted, rolling his eyes at the same time Ruth grimaced from beside him. She knew a signature Hope Armstrong comeback was incoming.
Hope glared at her brother, ”The fact that you have so little knowledge on pregnancy concerns me for your future wife.” 
Hugh stuck his tongue out in response, “That’s not a no, though.” 
 The pillow from Gale’s bed was a near miss as it sailed past Hugh’s head, and he dodged it dramatically, glaring at his sister.
“Come on, with all the ‘Dear John’ letters Sparky gets, I’d be surprised if he ever settles down,” John joined in. 
“Look who’s talking, Bucky,” Hugh retorted, pointing at Ruth with his spoon. “At least I got letters. You didn’t get a single one before Ruth came along.”
“Really?” Ruth asked quietly, surprise etched on her face.
The Major nodded with pursed lips, pushing the vegetables around his bowl before looking over at her with a small smile. “There was no one worth writing to.”
The blonde’s cheeks heated at his words, and she got caught in his gaze.
From their position across the room, Gale and Hope watched the interaction with fond smiles, both happy to see their friends with someone who so clearly adored them. The moment was interrupted when Hugh burst out laughing. 
“Well, that didn’t stop you from-”
He was cut off when a pillow came sailing into the side of his face, knocking some of his soup onto his pants as the pillow fell to the bed. Hugh’s gaze flicked towards the cot the projectile came from, ready to yell at Hope, but he wasn’t expecting to see her wide eyes as she stared up at Buck in awe.
“Sorry, Charlie,” he shrugged. “It just slipped.” 
Ruth and Hope broke into chuckles, but John just sent Gale a thankful glance. Bucky then turned his attention to Hugh, and the two pilots glared at each other. John was frustrated about the cheap, low-blow comment, and Hugh was still clearly sour over the best man situation. They soon gave up and went back to their soup. John’s mind, however, got stuck on Hugh’s words.
Once they’d finished their supper, a knock sounded at the door. “Everyone decent in there? Girls?”
Frank.
“Uh, yeah,” John called, lifting an eyebrow at Ruth.
The door swung open, and the Captain walked in with his lips in a straight line. “Thought you two’d be in here,” he nodded before turning to Hope. “How’s the leg?”
“I’m okay. Still hurts like a bitch, though.”
“Did you get it checked?”
Her face shifted into a grimace at the question. “I took care of it.”
“You, Hope Armstrong,” he sighed. “Are the reason I drink.”
“You know you love us,” Ruth added, tilting her head with a grin.
Frank’s attention drifted to Ruth’s figure beside John. “And how are you, Ruthie?”
The blonde looked up at John, thinking of how he’d taken care of her throughout the day. “Better now.”
“Alright, enough of the lovey eyes, you two,” he called out to them, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his hips. “The Angel’s out of commission, and the Grove can’t send anyone tonight with the blackout, so we’re stuck here for the night.”
Both couples perked up at the news, but Hugh just groaned.
“As much as I wish I could make you stay with the Red Cross girls, I know I can’t. So you two,” Frank pointed at Gale and John. “No funny business, okay? None.”
Johnny’s mouth twitched, almost quirking into a smirk, but he was able to hold it in as Buck replied with a “Yes sir.” 
“Zero funny business,” Bucky fake saluted from his bunk.
Running a hand down his tired face, Frank scratched his mustache. “Hugh, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on them.”
“Trust me, I will.”
“Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
The door closed behind him with a slam, and they all visibly relaxed. Hope moved to shuffle back onto the bed beside Gale, the wave of nausea having passed when the door flew open again. 
A cool breeze filled the hut as five men strolled into the hut, apparently oblivious of the girls until the one at the front of the column spoke up. 
“Would you look at that? Major ‘no girls in the hut’ Cleven has a girl on his bed,” he pointed at Hope before the man behind him tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn and notice Ruth. “And Egan, too. Shit, I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t joined in.” 
Gale sighed, standing up and placing his hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Hope, Ruth, these are the boys.” Buck took a breath to introduce them, but John beat him to it. 
“DEMARCOO!!” John hollered, causing Gale to groan at his friend’s childish antics. 
The man at the front just smiled. 
“Egan,” he greeted him before motioning towards Ruth, “How did you manage to snag yourself such an attractive broad?” 
Ruth’s cheeks flushed under the other man’s gaze but John just chuckled beside her, “Must be my endless charm.” 
“Sure thing, Major,” Demarco snorted, his voice lowering to a whisper as he glanced down at Ruth. “Blink twice if you need help.” 
With a shove from John, Benny laughed and turned his attention back to Hope and Gale while Bubbles moved over to greet Ruth.
“Hi again,” Bubbles waved at the blonde with a kind smile. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better, ma’am.”
Ruth nodded from where she was tucked into John’s side. “Me too. And call me Ruth, please.”
“Oh, your bike’s outside, by the way,” Bubbles added, looking over at Bucky and pointing toward the door. A smirk appeared on the lieutenant’s face as he stepped closer to the couple with a hushed tone. “Kidd was, uh, not amused, to say the least.”
“Like I said, he’ll get over it,” John remarked, glancing over Bubbles’ shoulder at the Major in question who was conversing with Bill quietly. “Looks like he’s over it now. Jack!” 
“Wait-” Bubbles tried to stop him, but it was too late.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your jeep today.”
Jack scoffed bitterly and sent Johnny a sharp glare. “When you stole my jeep, you mean.”
“Come on, Jack,” John groaned. “I left you my bike.”
“A bike and a jeep are nowhere near the same thing,” Kidd argued, shaking his head with a sigh as his gaze fell on Ruth. “I know today was rough, and I’m glad you two are okay. I saw your skytrain, and you’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
Ruth felt the familiar lump of anxiety growing in her throat, and she cleared it quietly, keeping her voice steady. “Thanks.”
“Just don’t do it again, Bucky,” Jack nodded.
“No promises.”
Kidd’s gaze shifted to Ruth with his brows drawn together. “How do you deal with him?”
“I have no idea,” she answered tightly, the anxiety still working its way up her throat. John inspected her face, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room.
“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?” he asked, meeting her anxious gaze.
Ruth nodded as Bucky waved bye at Jack and ushered her out the door. When the pair exited the hut, they were met by a beautiful sight. The sun was setting over the base and vibrant colors painted the sky above the runways. Silhouettes of B-17s lined the horizon, and the distant rumble of engines, with the occasional chatter of ground crewmen, filled the air. 
Ruth took a deep breath and crossed her arms over herself, the warm sunlight on her face helping to calm her racing heart. 
“Sorry, I know that was a lot of people,” he said quietly. 
“It’s not that. Today’s been a lot,” Ruth sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears as she continued to stare out at the English countryside. “I just needed a second.”
They both silently watched the sun slowly disappear behind fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, each of their minds stuck on the day.
As Johnny stood beside her with his hands on his hips, Hugh’s comment about his past replayed in his head. Before he met Ruth, everyone knew he wasn’t particular about who he spent his nights with or where he spent them, and these women didn’t seem to mind either. But all that changed when Ruth walked into his life. 
Despite his pickup lines and physical affection, John wanted to make sure Ruth knew she wasn’t just another of his “floozies” as Hope called them. She had to know that he felt something deeper beyond physical attraction, something real for her...as real as he’d ever felt. 
Mustering up his courage, John took a deep breath and broke the silence of the quiet sunset. 
“About what Hugh said earlier, or started to say,” Ruth turned to him. “It’s no secret I’ve been around,” he confessed, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’ve been with women-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, I do,” he urged, moving a hand over hers. “I’ve done things I’m not too proud of. But I’ve been trying to do better…”
John acted like he wanted to say more, but stopped when a conflicted expression appeared on his face. Sensing his apprehension, Ruth squeezed his arm reassuringly. 
After a moment, he decided to keep going, his voice laced with nervousness. “You make me want to be better. You make me feel…something…everything. The other girls were…I don’t know. Distractions, maybe? Something to keep my mind off of what goes on up there.”
As Ruth watched him pour out his closely guarded heart, she saw a glimpse of a man who wasn’t as secure and confident as it seemed. She saw a man who longed to be held, taken care of, and loved but was unsure how to go about it.
“But I like this,” John gestured between them. “I like us…a lot. Today made me realize just how much. And I-I don’t want to mess this up.”
Biting her lip gently, she stepped closer, reducing the already small gap between them. “I like us, too. I meant what I said in my letter, you know. About you not being rid of me.”
“I meant what I said, too,” he replied softly, tilting his head towards her as he gently placed his hands on her hips. “You’re a unicorn, doll. One in a million, one of a kind…however you wanna say it.”
Ruth’s hands slid up John’s chest and looped around his neck, her lips slowly curving into a small grin despite the burning sensation within her stomach. “Yeah?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” John nodded as a line appeared between his brows. “I wanna do this right, and I’ve never-,” he paused, inhaling deeply. “I’ve never done this before…you know? Gone steady. But I care about you. So damn much. And I want that with you.”
“I want it too.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, the setting sun casting a golden hue on John’s face as he held her in his arms. 
“Good,” he finally sighed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at her. “Cause I didn’t have a plan B if you rejected me.”
Ruth chuckled under her breath and shook her head. “I could never reject you. I’ve been letting you kiss me for almost a month now, remember.”
“Well, you’d be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
She rolled her eyes, meeting his gaze again to find him searching her face for some answer to a silent question.
“So…what happens now?”
“Well,” Ruth whispered, her eyes flicking to his lips. “I was expecting you to kiss me, Major, but-”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he quickly replied, tugging her flush against him and landing his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss that confirmed their deep attachment to the other, and their future together.
Pulling away, Ruth answered his question out of breath, her words coming out in shorts pants. “How about we take it slow and see where it goes?”
Shaking his head, John’s hands slid from her waist to her cheeks and gave her another chaste kiss. When he leaned back, he peered down at her blushing face with a wide, toothy grin. “Did you know the unicorn’s my favorite extinct animal?”
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As they settled in for the night, John lounged under his covers with one arm behind his head and stared up at Ruth with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the floor’s all yours, doll,” he said, gesturing to the space beside his cot.
“Oh really?” Ruth arched an eyebrow, feigning deep thought as she glanced around the hut. “I'm sure someone else has some room if you’re kicking me out…”
Without missing a beat, Bucky quickly made room for her on the narrow bed, playfully pulling back the covers and throwing his arm out for her. “Oh wow, would you look at that? A vacancy just opened up.”
She rolled her eyes and accepted his invitation, slipping into the bed beside him, immediately feeling the comforting warmth of his body. John wrapped his arm around her, his touch gentle as he settled her close against him.
“Don’t you dare hog the blankets,” she teased, her voice soft as she nestled against his side, her hand finding its place on his chest.
Bucky squeezed her waist slightly, grinning up at the ceiling. “Don’t you worry about me. I don’t think I’ll have any problem staying warm tonight.”
Beside them, Bill grumbled in response, his voice muffled as he turned away. “Bucky, just shut up and go to sleep. Some of us are flying tomorrow.”
“Night, doll,” John whispered, chuckling under his breath before tenderly kissing Ruth’s hair.
Her eyes became heavy with the day’s exhaustion, and she lazily kissed his shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”
“Oh, they will be if-”
“John! Shut the hell up!” Jack hissed through the darkness.
Finally following their request, Bucky stopped talking and instead focused on how Ruth’s small figure fit perfectly into his bulky one like a missing puzzle piece. He let the steady rise and fall of her chest against him lull him into restful sleep that he’d been lacking since they touched down in Algeria.
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