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queers-gambit · 6 months

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Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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blushstarot · 17 days

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PICK A CARD: a message from your future self

Pick whichever picture you feel more attracted to and skip to that pile.

Pile 1

nine of cups, four of wands (reversed), the magician (reversed).

Okay, but this pile is giving me really sweet vibes, your future self feels like a genuinely carrying person, and looks back at you as a mother figure would. They just want you to be happy and feel welcomed and the energy is overall very heartwarming. Quick thing I want to add before y'all actually read the letter, i don't know if some of you are fans of musicals, specifically of Hamilton, but while I was writing the letter, the melody of dear theodosia was playing in my head so yeah, it might be important for you to know.

"Right now you may feel like you don't fit in, that you lack support, and that you aren't enough. I know you feel insecure but believe when I tell you that you don't have to be scared about that, you are enough and you all the skills and abilities you need to be successful. The universe is working to bring blessings your way, but you have to put some work on it too. Use your intellect, concentration and willpower to make this wonderful things happen, you have the power to manifest the outcome you want. Leave the past behind and put your mind in anything you want to accomplish, I know all our wishes and dreams will become a reality soon enough, for now it's the time of time of happiness, joyfulness and fulfillment."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 2

page of cups (reversed), strength (reversed), page of pentacles.

I actually had to redo this pile because I got busy with something important mid reading, and when I had time to continue I couldn't really connect to it again, so I pulled other three cards to do the reading again. The vibes then and the vibes in this new one, suggest that your future self know you are having hard times, and are probably dealing with some childhood related issues, but they want to tell you that things will get better. Also something tells me that they REALLY wanted you to get their message, since they sent both the bearer of messages and the bearer of good news.

"You're going through difficult times, and right now I want you to try to connect with your inner child by embracing the fun side of life. I've always loved how we are young at heart, even sometimes a little bit naïve, but lately you've been ignoring your inner emotions and listening too much to people that are bringing you and your self-esteem down. I bring you good news from the future, a future where all our goals are achieved, but that is only possible if you make the right decisions now and put the groundwork necessary. The future I'm from might seem too far away from were you are today, but time passes quickly and is unforgiving, so I want you to take my advise and keep it close to your heart. I know you can become a person who is both mature and young at heart, I've seen it and have been cheering for you through all that journey, because after all I'm you, and I've already done it."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 3

the fool, strength (reversed), five of swords.

I feel like your future self is encouraging you to start something new, maybe something you always wanted to try but never really made time to give it a chance. They want you to focus on the positive and to stay away from people that don't support your dreams. Overall, I feel this is more of a warning of what's to come, in hopes it helps you to be more prepare to face it.

"You're going to enter a new chapter in your life, it may look like something difficult at first, but you need to tap into your inner strength and don't let your fears and anxiety paralyze you. This new chapter is full of exciting and thrilling adventures, you just have to trust your heart and make a leap of fate. If you are not careful, you might end up self-sabotaging and getting involved in a serious conflict, causing unnecessary stress. When the time is right, I need you to stand up for what you truly want and what you believe."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of your message.

You can find more of my PACs on my master list, and if you have any suggestions on future PACs you want to see me do, you can send me and ask.

Bye byeee ✨

#pick a card #tarot #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot community #free tarot #tarot cards #tarotblr #a message #blush'starot

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calisources · 3 months

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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All sentences has been taken from different media and soruces about life in the royal court, involving the introgue of succession, war, marriage, kings and queens and tournaments. Most of this are acceptable for all audience except one with some foul language. Chance names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

Ten years of shadows, but no longer. Light up the darkness, Majesty.

You don't know a woman until you've met her in court.

A queen keeps a court that is spoken about. A goddess keeps a court that is never forgotten.

And you, lady? Are you a woman of conscience or of ambition?

That's a question rarely asked here at court.

Court games aren't fair. They don't judge men by their worth, and they aren't about what's just.

We know all men are not created equal in the sense some people would make us believe .

Either you break the law, or the law breaks you.

There is no playacting in this court. If you stay your hand, they will cut it off.

Power does not pardon, power punishes.

Listen! The court jester's cap and bells. The King is coming!

He was a man with a vision- and an extraordinary vision it was.

The cat who lived in the Palace had been awarded the head-dress of nobility and was called Lady Myobu.

In every reign there comes one night of greatest blackness, when a King must send away his court of flatterers and servants, and sit alone in the dark with the beast called truth.

It is important to refuse to be intimidated.

They all come innocent in court.

Is that how you get propositioned at the court? 'Mylady, would you be so kind as to allow me to put my manhood in your vagina'?

They used to say that, in a battle between the lion and the tiger, the winner was the monkey, who watched from a distance.

Men love those creatures that need to be taken care of.

If you want to tame a lioness you need to become a lion, not a goat.

A doe is easier to keep.

The woman did not care for empty compliments; to get such a woman, one needed to put forth effort.

I’m a terrible prince. I should put my kingdom first and everything else second, but your first. I want you by my side every second . . .

Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia.

She calls herself the Queen of Narnia thought she has no right to be queen at all.

Plenty of people have told me you are not my father.

It is necessary for a prince to have the people friendly.”

Royalty is not a right, Captain. The willingness of the people to follow a ruler is what gives her power.

Here, in this place, by this people, I have been chosen.

These men are tired of being told whom to follow. Now they have a choice, and they use that choice to call me Princess.

I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics.

A prince ought also to show himself a patron of ability, and to honour the proficient in every art.

You should never have been only a little girl, you should have always been a crown princess.

You knew you would be sending me away?

A born king is a very rare being.

The world will need to know that I’m the last royal left. Their queen.

There’s royalty in me, but stronger than that there is adventure.

My life is the Crown and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another.

Dignity is trained into royal children before they can toddle.

The first year of marriage is not always easy, especially within the Royal Family.

The real intelligence in the royal family comes through my parents .

The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.

The royal road to a man's heart is to talk to him about the things he treasures most.

The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.

The winner will marry the prince.

You want to marry my daughter? Prove yourself worthy.

That is acceptable. A king is a martyr to their ideals.

f I rule the nation as king, I cannot ask to live as a person.

A wise king never seeks out war, but... he must always be ready for it.

All men need something greater than themselves to look up to and worship. They must be able to touch the divine here on earth

I am the First Imperial Princess of the Misurugi Empire!

You can tell she's a princess, she doesn't need a crown.

You, sir, are the most uncharming prince I have ever met! In fact, the only thing royal about you is that you are a royal pain.

No one ever told her "no."

In no time at flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress, with her own rooms at the palace.

These men are my bodyguards, their lives forfeit to the guarantee of my physical safety. Of their loyalty to me, there shall be no question nor doubt.

Some balls are held for charity And some for fancy dress, But when they're held for pleasure They're the balls that I like best.

Be careful of what women with gowns plan, specially in a ballroom.

The art of husband seeking is something every woman has been trained since birth.

Many wives and consorts, of course.

Who is to rule when I am gone? You are a princess. I have no son.

Men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the Iron Throne.

Did I not mention there was another?

A king must always have an heir and a spare.

He was born to be a king... He rules men just by breathing. When he walks into a room, he commands it. People love him.

Two knights off to rescue a princess. Sounds like a great song.

As the king's brother, you should've been first in line!

I was first in line. Until the little hairball was born.

That "hairball" is my son, and your future king.

My parents were... rather traditional. They wanted the heir and the spare, and I was left in the cold.

It cannot be easy being the youngest prince. To have others expect nothing from you, yet still shake their heads in disapproval.

If my uncle attacks King's Landing I'll ride out to meet him.

You are in need of serious princess lessons.

You're the new ruler of Mechanicsburg. You need to act like it.

Every princess needs a battle axe. Here. Use this one until we find you something more impressive.

You know what they used to write on cannons? The last argument of kings. I guess you could say magic is the last argument of queens.

A tournament has been arranged in your name, so you must attend and make yourself presentable.

They hope to find me a husband here. They said I am already a woman bled.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #royal scheme #royal concept #royal court

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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months

Text

no need to thank me, yours for the taking | shadowheart

✮ tags ; dom + gender-neutral reader, sub!shadowheart, established relationship, first time subbing / bottoming, some bratting, praise, rope-play, foreplay, fingering, squirting, 18

✮ wc ; 3.5k

✮ synopsis ; shadowheart isn't like this with just anyone. but you make it all too easy to be on her knees

✮ a/n ; hello!! this is for a lovely commissioner who i will keep anon!! please be kind abt my shadowheart characterization its my first time but im firm in believing shes a soft brat. title from lyk dis by Nxworries !!

minor spoilers for her story but very vague!!

You’ve never gone back on your word.

Sharran practice, to Shadowheart, is a lie within itself. There is more to life than darkness, than pain, than obsidian night. Sharran practice does not promote the practices of deceit. But the territory of secrecy, concealment, is that lying is common practice. A beautiful, painful, empty lie.

And of course, her goddess herself, lied to Shadowheart about her own existence for her entire life. She almost expects it now. That someone she loves so dearly will lie to her, and that everything will be pulled from her feet once again.

You don’t lie to Shadowheart, though. Never about anything important. She believes you when you tell her you love her. Or when you say you won’t leave. Or when you say that you don’t mind adopting more animals, or tending to the gardens or having her parents over for dinner.

When the wound on her hand burns hotly, you always hold it for her. When you tell Shadowheart you want to take care of her, she wants to believe you.

It’s hard though. The intimacy makes it harder. The vulnerability of touch, pleasure frightens her - so she instead reverts to old practices of having you listen to her every word. She takes and takes and takes, on her own terms and you don’t mind.

But because you don’t lie, you always tell her - that you’d like to take care of her just once. That you’d prefer to take the lead and make her feel good, if she’d let you. You’d like to try it with her, and her reply is always cheeky and deflective.

If Shadowheart was more capable of honesty, she might’ve told you she wanted it earlier. It’s too hard, so you don’t push her. Except, she sees you among the large Rothe with your sleeves pushed to your elbows, and sweat down your brows. There, you’re just as gentle and thoughtful as always, and the sun shines down like it was always yours.

Strangely, it’s what makes her want to admit it to herself. That she wants you to touch her the way you always talk about. It’s unlike her to be timid, where she’s usually so coy - but it’s different with this in particular.

(She wonders, is it easy for anyone? To admit that they want to be adored? She finds herself envious of that kind of person.)

So she admits it to you, and because you’re always honest - you smile and kiss and thank her. Trap her in your arms and don’t let her squirm away from your touch as you tell her over and over that you’ll be so good to her.

She believes you.

If she didn’t, there’s no way she’d be here for you like this.

The soft glow of candlelight casts a golden hue on your face, your expression tight from focus. Her chest feels warm and achy looking at you through the mirror.

“Is tying me up really necessary?” She presses. You look up at her through your lashes with a smile that seems smarmy.

“You’ll try to get your way if I don’t.” You reply, so nonchalant about the accusation she’s offended by it. Nearly. The slight lift in your brow, the smugness of knowing you’re right, sends her somewhere else though.

Her heart races at your touch, more now than before. She’s naked beside her panties, skin hot to the touch. Her nipples are hard, a lust pooling in her stomach as you ignore her pout and go back to your rope work. She pushes back on your claim once her nerves settle again.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll take it back from you?” She taunts.

This time, your smile is soft and gentle.

“No. Not at all.”

You slide your fingers through the rope cuffs behind her that you’ve managed to tie only looking once. Her frown deepens and you laugh, standing in front of her and reaching towards her to wipe the crease in between her brows.

“Too tight?”

She shakes her head again, perplexed at all the ways you touch her. She doesn’t dislike it. She just doesn’t know what to expect. There are rules and she can stop when it’s too much. She knows all of that. The most nerve wracking part is how unreadable you feel. How you know her intimately enough to know she wants to fight with you.

That you’re confident enough about her mannerisms that you don’t think she’d win. It sends butterflies swarming in her abdomen, heat running across every ridge of her spine. She glances at you now with a keen awareness of her position. Naked, vulnerable, helpless. Her breath hitches as the anxious feeling sparks.

Then you call her.

“Breathe, my heart,” You murmur, so carefully it startles her. She’s never like this. Not with anyone. No such person has existed that’s made her want to be like this. “You’re safe with me.”

Your eyes lock, and there’s so much tenderness in your gaze her stomach twists again even tighter. She’d whimper if she was dazed enough to make the sound.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

She rolls her eyes. She’s all too aware of how petulant it is, but she can’t bring herself to stop. You don’t reprimand her.

“As if you need to ask.”

“Of course I do. I want to hear you say it,” Your reply is firm. Stern, maybe - if you’re capable of such a thing. You step closer to her, your eyes meeting. “Tell me you want me to take care of you,”

It feels like an impossible ask. The fire in your gaze cuts away at whatever is left of her bratting. She’s only seen you be so serious when you were cutting down fiends on your journey together. Your hand slips against her waist, palm against her stomach with your fingers starting to grip tight. You lean in close to her, still looking. She wavers.

“I want,” Your hand reaches up for her face, cupping her cheek as she talks. She doesn’t know what aspect of it is more humiliating. The way she’s folding underneath the pressure or the restless excitement that follows the sound of your voice when you talk to her like that. Kind, always, but demanding too. “I want you to take…care of me,”

You smile at her, press your lips to her forehead and pepper them all along her face with a brilliant smile. Your hand secures around the nape of her neck, tilting her head up to look at you

“Wasn’t too hard, was it? My good girl,” Your foreheads brush. Immediately the rope gets in the way of everything. She wants to hug you, and maybe you’re aware because your smile goes characteristically tender again “You look like you want to cling onto me,”

In this state, she can’t hide away. She tucks her chin.

“Where’s your discretion? Don’t say it so blatantly,”

“It’s cute,” You offer her, as if that makes it any better. “Not yet. When I’ve gone and made you ditzy enough to whine about it, I’ll let you.”

After that, you kiss her. You use both hands to cup her face this time, and Shadowheart lets herself melt into it. Your breath is faint with the taste of wine, tongue sweet and aching as you kiss her slow and deep. All you do is kiss her, but you’ve never kissed her like this before. She’d remember something so salacious. You lead her through it, guide her with pace and practice. The rope around her wrists feel tighter, even though they’re not. Bound behind her back, exposed to you.

So little between you and she’s already aching to touch you.

“You have to be patient,” It’s like you read her mind, your nose brushing with hers “Patient and obedient and good. Can you be good?”

She stares at you when you talk. She can’t help but be pulled into your pace.

“...Hmph. I can be…good,”

“Mm,” You sit on the edge of the bed with your legs spread, and Shadowheart turns to watch you. There’s just enough room for her to seat herself between your legs. The message is clear immediately, as you pat your inner thigh expectantly and smile. She feels her whole body go flush with embarrassment “Sit. With your back towards me, okay?”

She debates it for a while. You look so sincere towards her, so kind. Walking slowly towards you, she turns and sits down between your legs. Her bound arms and back hit your chest as you pull her closer, your hands immediately go around to her chest. You cup her tits from behind, your chin resting on her shoulder as you squeeze the soft flesh between your fingers.

Your hands are burning, calloused from wielding weapons. In a low murmur, your voice brushes against the shell of her ear again. Whispery and soft like willows.

“Good girl,” You praise, kissing the space between her neck and shoulders. “You’re so beautiful. No wonder the gods fought over you.”

Your fingers brush over her nipples, and Shadowheart finds herself arching. It’s the first touch that’s been direct where she needs it. You rub circles, pinching and rolling as she starts to squirm as your lips press against her shoulder. Her body pricks with heat, every nerve on fire as she starts to feel the dull thrum of lust pooling in her belly.

So little has happened yet, but her head feels light. More. She wants more of you.

The voice of greed in the back of her mind is so new it scares her, but your touch distracts her from the swarm of thoughts threatening to topple everything over. Dexterous fingers make goosebumps appear all along her skin.

“Aah,” She moans and shudders, her hands tightening where they’re restrained. “Ngh,”

“You’re so sensitive here,” Your voice is awe filled. “How cute,”

It’s too much focus. Concentrated touches on the tender, hardened buds are enough to make her mind go haywire. They’re a part of her body you’ve always liked, keeping your mouth latched onto them no matter what position you’re in. You already know how euphoric it makes her feel, and your touch goes on forever. Toying with them, precious and sensitive, as the feeling starts coming to a steady incline Her clit is throbbing against the seam of her panties. The rest of her body begs for more attention. Instinctively, she closes her legs to relieve the pressure, but you’re quick to stop her.

“You don’t get to decide that, remember,” You remind her, your leg locking hers from crossing. She swears loudly. “If you want something, you ask me.”

“Is it not obvious what I want?”

“Good girls ask politely.” You remind.

“As if I’d answer something so —aah, apparent,”

Your hand reaches up to turn her head, a hand on her throat as you force her to look at you. Your grip isn’t tight. Your eyes lock with hers, barely an inch of space between you. You have that serious look again. She almost rescinds it but she’s too stubborn to let it go.

“Then sit and take what I give you.” You state, voice dressed with steel. There’s unmistakable care in them, but they make it clear that you expect Shadowheart to do more than listen. You expect her to behave. “You have two options. You can ask politely, for something. Or you’ll sit and take just as much as I give you. Is that clear?”

She wriggles against your lap, squirming aimlessly for some kind of friction. Shadowheart is strong but you’re stronger, more agile - and any attempt at taking what she wants is shot down just as quickly. She lays her head against your shoulder, struggling to look up at you. She pouts and remains silently.

Your hands have graduated to a soft massage of her tits, not even giving her direct attention. Her frown deepens.

“You’re—why aren’t you touching me at all?”

You’re quick to reply.

“Because you haven’t answered me. What do you want to do?”

It dawns on her too late that you intend to abide by these rules so strictly. She’s lost her stamina for this kind of endurance because of you, Sharran torment be damned. The fact you’d make her wait troubles her. You always give her what she asks for, in everything. The muscle memory to keep herself together has degraded, made her weak to your touch, more than normal. She’s not like this.

“You’re serious.” She says, less than asks.

She can feel your cheeky smile against her shoulder. You slide your hand down the plane of her body before settling between her legs, middle fingers going over the cottony fabric. Shadowheart shivers, laying against you.

“I want you to,” Her voice isn’t much more than a croak “I want you to touch me down…there.”

“Say please,”

“You—!,” She closes her eyes in mild exasperation before sighing “Please.”

“Good girl,” You praise affectionately “You’re pink all the way up to your ears. How sweet,”

“Would you please shut up?”

There’s no response to her words. You use your hands to tuck into the waistband of her underwear, dragging them off. Shadowheart uses her remaining unbound limbs to help you. Naked with her legs spread over your lap, her heart races as your hand rests on her tummy. You angle downwards, covering her whole sex. You dig your palm against her clit with barely there friction - an involuntary whimper leaving her lips.

You have a stunning amount of control over your movements, well practiced with every angle of her body. She’s made you that way, but she never thought it would be so easily used against her.

You tease like that in fair strokes. Your other hand cups the front of her throat, dragging your thumb along the thumping pulse of her heart. You’re kind enough not to say anything about how loudly it thumps, how shaky she’s breathing. Shadowheart makes a soft noise of want as your fingers drag through her sticky folds. Gathering her arousal on the tips of your fingers until you stop at her clit. She’s throbbing so much it’s painful, wet enough that it’s pooling underneath her tacky sheets. Embarrassing.

She gasps at the slow, smooth circles you rub her clit with. Familiar and controlled, a warm feeling of pleasure starts to spread through her stomach. Her head feels light, fluttery as she drops herself even further into you.

She wants more. This time though, she’s hyper aware of the fact she has to ask or you won’t give her more than this. She wants to cum and she wants it to be hard and fast. She just wants you in some unmanageable way.

“Your fingers,” She manages through a broken wheeze “Please. I want your hands, please.”

Your pause before laughing good naturedly at her. She swears under her breath.

“Stand up and turn around, baby.”

She huffs about it unhappily, but listens because the ache that’s starting to form is proving to be too much to fight against. You move yourself around and make room for her to sit in your lap again, this time facing you. She gets the message quickly enough, turns and straddles you on shaky legs. You use your hands to guide her in the position you want her in, hips held up enough for you to sneak your hand underneath her.

“You’re being such a good girl now,” You tease “Did you finally reach your breaking point?”

Her voice is clipped, comes out as a hard whine. She wants to wrap her arms around your neck and hold you. She wants to move freely but she can’t. And it’s hard. Cumbersome. She’s not at her breaking point, but her neediness is finally outweighing her embarrassment. It’s the way you exercise your authority that’s making all of it too hard.

“No,” She mumbles, as bashful as someone like her could even be “But…touch me,”

“Of course, my love.”

Shadowheart lets her eyelids droop when she feels your hands again. You cover your fingers in saliva as you settle underneath her sex. Your fingers are thicker and longer than hers. They feel different at this angle. You start with your middle finger. Shadowheart braces for entrance as she feels you push inside her tight hole. Your hand is steady and slow as you slow inch your first finger into her. They’re cool compared to the tight, wet heat of her cunt. She’s so turned on there’s hardly any resistance. Your middle finger curls as it bottoms out, down to the knuckle as you pause and let her get adjusted to the sensation. It doesn’t last long, patience wearing thin - she moans out for you, another muffled please.

You listen to her, at least. You give her another finger, your ring finger this time - repeat the process. Fucking her slow and deep until you’ve reached our knuckle, letting her hole stretch out around you and pumping inside until there’s no longer and resistance at all.

“More?” You ask. Shadowheart trembles and nods her head.

“More,”

You give her another one, your pointer - and that’s finally what makes her feel full. She shakes in your grasp as you secure her waist with your free hand. The roundest part of your palm pushes up against her sex, clit throbbing as her head gets light. She’s so stretched out. You curl your fingers inside her, pressing and searching until you hit the right spot.

She moans brokenly as soon as you find it. Your fingers curl against the spongy area, silken walls clamping down and pulsing on your hand.

You kiss her sternum, angling to take one of her tits in your mouth as you start to find a rhythm. Shadowheart leans in naturally, letting more of her weight fall on you. She can feel the heat start to prick against her skin as you find a pace to fingerfuck her with. You start gently at least, giving her time to adjust.

When you hit a rhythm, you’re no longer so gentle. Your fingers fuck her open ruthlessly, her cunt made a wet mess from arousal. The room fills with the sound of it, making her body flush with embarrassment. Pleasure starts to overwhelm her, the sound of her own voice lost in the vulgarity of your touch. Her body rocks slowly, abdomen clenched as her body starts to tense up. Little jolts of unabashed pleasure start to rack up into full waves of need.

Her head feels heavy, tongue too big for her mouth. Drawn out and winded up to the point it’s painful, the actual full touch is as overwhelming as it is good.

“I’m gonna—it’s,”

You click your teeth. “Not until you ask sweet girl,”

Shadowheart feels like she could nearly cry. God, you’re awful like this. She doesn't’ hate it though.

“Fuck, please. P-please let me cum, please.”

“Good girl. My good girl. You can cum. Cum for me.” You praise low before latching yourself back to her tits, turning the pleasure all the way up and keeping pace.

She doesn’t just cum. Something else comes rushing out, a hot stream squirting all along the bed. It gets on your clothed skin, all over your body as a wave of relief overwhelms her top to bottom. She goes taut like a bowstring, orgasm ripping through her like a knife as she cums hard enough she screams. It feels like it goes on forever. Her body trembles and pulses as you fuck her through it, only stopping when she starts to come down.

Before she gains awareness of her surroundings, she feels your sticky hands go back and around to her wrists - skillfully undoing the knot without even having to look. When her hands are finally free, the first thing she does is wrap them around your neck and hold you as she collapses her weight into your lap.

“You alright there, my love? You with me?”

“Hn,” She mumbles, nuzzling her face against your shoulder “I’m… fine. Just a little tired.”

“You’re stubborn to the very end, aren’t you? Your arms feel alright? No pain?”

“Just sore,” She replies, and a little less lucidly “Gods that felt so good. I didn’t know you had that in you. I didn’t know I had that in me.”

You laugh heartily at her observation, but choose not to embarrass her. “That’s good. And I always knew you did. You did so well, my love.”

She pulls away, doe eyed and no longer able to care about how embarrassing it is.

“I want more,” She says, keeping back a wince at that whine in her own voice “I want to make you feel good, too.”

You smile, rubbing her back.

“Should I spoil you then and let you?”

She nods silently, mind absent of her usual wit - overwhelmed with want for you.

“Get on your knees then for me, baby.”

And she does, almost too quick. She watches you, green eyes lidded with lust as you undo the top button of your pants and beckon her closer.

“Come here and eat.”

#shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #shadowheart smut #bg3 smut #writing tag #i will upload on ao3 in a bit

325 notes · View notes

rosesloveletters · 6 months

Text

all is fair in love.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 10,261

Warnings: sexual content / smut.

Summary: The holidays are Wonka's busiest season and his work keeps him away from reader much more than either of them would like. After hours, the two spend a passionate night together as they both make the necessary arrangements to be attentive to each other's needs and empathetic of the complexity of maintaining a healthy romantic relationship that neither reader nor Wonka are accustomed to.

Author's Note: my smut fics are always between 6-10k haha so enjoy. I edited this the best I could, but for some reason I kept switching between first person and second person pov for reader (I don't know why since I always write in second person pov.) I think I fixed most of it, so if there's any parts I missed, I'm sorry. Also, I'd like to mention that Christmas isn't inherently important to the events in this story. It is used as an element only to convey why Wonka is so busy during this time of year, because most people like to buy chocolate and candy as gifts. I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention.

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

You’ve always believed that if you truly love someone, then you keep it a secret.

You would let that feeling freeze me down to the core – to love the way a person is meant to, but it is that same love that, inevitably and irrevocably, suffocates.

You cannot satisfy that craving the same way one might satisfy a sweet tooth. Once given a taste, it seeps down into your skin, infecting both body and mind, pierces the heart and tears it wide open.

The thundering beat inside your chest cannot be silenced. The fingertips of fate trace the spider-like, lightning-strike veins that split your heart right down the middle.

A broken heart takes love like a beating.

It all comes boiling to the surface, bubbling up and out in the breath of a second.

The truth always comes out, one way or another.

Because if you don’t let the heart have its’ way, then it will tear itself right out of your chest.

***

The days were short, but the hours were long.

You spent much of your time by yourself, as this season kept Willy preoccupied. Time marched onward and the weeks themselves seemed to drag; it was nearing Christmastime and that meant very little to you in the grand scheme of things, except that you’d be seeing less and less of your lover.

Traditionally, the holidays were a time of celebration and joy, gifts and laughter shared between friends and families alike.

However, you lived a nontraditional life now, and Willy had unwittingly shown you that the life of a chocolatier was a solitary one. You knew that the busy holiday season was what pulled him away, but his lack of attentiveness made you wonder…

The only thing that kept these thoughts at bay was the way in which he looked at you when he was around.

Willy was a difficult man to read. Whether that was intentional or not, were you still trying to determine. The only dead giveaway were his eyes – startlingly intense and piercingly blue – that bore no resemblance to subtlety.

The vastness of the heavens, it seemed, were contained within those swirling galaxies. On dark nights when the cloud cover was too thick, you traced the constellations in his eyes to guide you into his morning light.

You could see yourself peeling back the layers of his heart to get to the source of how he truly felt.

Deflect from it all he might – “I’m a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time–” you saw right through him and sometimes that only made him steer clear of you for longer.

It wasn’t that he did not care for you; it was quite the opposite. Perhaps the extent to which he cared was a bit overwhelming for him at times. He immersed himself in his work during these times, else his mind inevitably carried him to places he would rather not visit.

Willy Wonka’s mind was not a place any person, sometimes even himself, should ever go without a guide or a distinct way back.

Though anyone with half a brain could tell that the amazing chocolatier was a troubled man on occasion, his true nature shone through in his creations. Something about this season’s batch of chocolate was a touch sweeter than ones previous. It would go undetected by those who did not have a refined palate, but like the saying goes, a true artist would put their blood, sweat and tears into their work and Willy Wonka was a mastermind.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he meant to convey, if only between himself and one other: the world’s most famous chocolatier was in love.

***

You sat on the plush sofa in the personal wing of the factory, a book in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. You were nestled beneath a thick-knit, purple blanket as you read and waited on Willy to return to your den for the night.

You saw less and less of him the closer it got to the holidays, but such was the nature of his business. Christmastime was one of the busiest seasons and the one in which he made most of his money (the second being Valentine’s Day.) People bought exorbitant amounts of candies and chocolate during the holidays and so Willy was forced to expedite production (though never sacrificing quality) and work long, difficult hours preparing new and exciting treats for the public. In fact, it was no well-kept secret that Willy Wonka unveiled his newest creations around this time of year and that very news was plastered in every newspaper, magazine and bulletin across the world as people anticipated the exciting, brand-new sweets there would be to try.

You knew the excitement and rush of the season fed into Willy’s own excitement over his work. He was thrilled to be working on new ideas and expressing himself through his creativity and imagination. It meant the world to him and so you did your best to stay out of the way. You did not want to make the situation about you and, after all, he always made it up to you.

He was aware that his absence bothered you and he tried not to think about the fact that he may or may not be doing irreparable damage to your relationship.

Not every difficult time or situation was an attack against you. It wasn’t personal, nor was it anyone’s explicit fault. Willy had a factory to run, Oompa-Loompas to manage and ideas to manifest into reality. Sometimes, your relationship would take a backseat and if you were serious about being with him, then you would have to be alright with that and you were, although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt from time to time.

It would have been nice to relax and enjoy the season with your lover without his work getting in the way. You would have loved to curl up with him, sitting at opposite ends of the couch and enjoying lots of hot chocolate and hours of warm conversation. If you had your pick, you’d gladly have him here with you now, trading the book in your hands for his warm body, his fingers linked perfectly into the spaces between yours.

You reasoned that this was just how things would have to be for now. No sense in adding more pressure on him by complaining. He was aware of how you felt, but sadly there was nothing to be done about it. You never would have dreamed of asking him to pick between his work and you. That would not have been fair or right. You could handle this, for now, but deep down you missed him terribly.

Even if you chose to spend time with him inside the factory part of the building, he would be working the whole time. There simply was no time for much of anything else. He did like when you would drop by because you were his faithful little taste-tester. Better to try it out on you before selling it to the masses – that would seem cruel, knowing that his candies have had certain negative effects on people in the past, but rest assured, Willy had never given you anything that might harm you.

Any candy which made its way to you had been tested and re-tested to perfection before it ever passed between your lips.

He wanted feedback on his candy before it left the factory and you were more than happy to offer it to him, to which he was enthusiastically grateful. The only problem was, true to inventor fashion, he asked for feedback on everything. He wanted your opinion and was asking for it increasingly often these days. When you didn’t show up to the inventing room on certain days, he’d bring a whole box back to your shared living space and eagerly watch you with anticipation of your positive remarks as you were asked to try every piece.

He was always so grateful to you for that and, honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked candy and chocolate, so there was no reason you couldn’t afford him this act of kindness.

The only thing you really felt like you were missing was him and it plagued your mind most often while you were alone, which was of course very often. You kept yourself busy and occupied your thoughts with other things as much as you were able, but when you settled in for the night, your loneliness crept in and took up the space beside you that would have otherwise been occupied by your beloved chocolatier.

You didn’t mind your alone time, but too much of it was not ideal.

Too much of a good thing came with a price and now it seemed you were paying it with interest.

The sound of a door opening and shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced down at your book to realize you’d just had it propped open against your knees this whole time and hadn’t read a bit. You marked your place and closed it with a huff, setting it down on the end table beside you, your mug of half-drank cocoa with it.

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall – thank God he hadn’t cut that one in half – showed that it was ten minutes after midnight.

It did not come as a surprise that Willy was so late. It was only your wildest guess as to what he had been working on, but that point was moot. You did not really care what he was working on.

That thought seemed harsh and you frowned; no, you were adamantly against resenting him for his work. That path was one you would not let yourself go down, a trap of codependence, you told yourself, but why couldn’t he just be a little more present with you? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask.

Perhaps you would ask.

It would make the most sense to be upfront with him about how you were feeling and to be as direct as possible.

You did not move from the couch. You waited on Willy to come and find you, unlike the many days and nights when you might have greeted him at the door.

Several quiet moments passed between yourself and your thoughts before Willy entered the room. He had shed his purple coat at the door, as well as his hat and cane, “there you are, my dear,” his gentle tone made your stomach clench as warmth pooled in your abdomen. Even troubled with doubts, you were still delighted to see him.

You watched as he approached and dropped himself on the opposite end of the couch. He nudged your knee with his, silently asking for a bit more space which you politely gave, “I would have been back sooner, but I’ve been so busy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, it is that time of year,” you replied coolly. You didn’t want to jump into the meat of the discussion too soon, otherwise he might take offense where there was none.

He seemed in a good enough mood that perhaps this would be the perfect time to strike.

“Yes, my dear, it’s the holiday season which does wonders for my business and I couldn’t be happier.”

His pride in the work he was doing warmed your heart. You listened to him for a while as he recounted what he had been working on that day.

He cared so much and spoke so passionately, yet your mind began to wander.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

His tender voice captured your attention and you blinked slowly, “yes, I’m fine. But, there is something I would like to talk to you about.”

His lips hitched into a faint smile, then flattened into a serious line. It bothered you, not being able to read his face.

“There is? Well, you know that you can always talk to me about anything on your mind.”

You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he was already so fully immersed within his work. He needed time and space to focus. He did not need you hindering his creative flow by hanging all over him and demanding more attention. He already gave so much; how could you even dare to think that he owed you more?

“I know you’re busy this time of year, but do you think it would be possible for us to spend a little more time together?” My voice cracked as I added, “I…really miss you, Willy.”

You hadn’t meant to speak with words that were laced with such pain, but in fairness you did miss him terribly. By the time he made his way to you most nights, you were already in bed or heading there and in the mornings before you’d woken up, he would be gone. It bothered you to not see him and you wanted him to hear it. He needed to know the truth if you meant to be honest with him, you only hoped he’d be able to understand that you didn’t blame him.

Conversations like this always made you second guess yourself.

By this point, you realized that he had not responded. He was probably just thinking about what he would say, but usually it didn’t take him this long to reply.

“Willy?” you gently urged him, reaching out to place your hand on his arm.

Whenever he felt the gentle graze of your fingertips against the fabric of his shirt, he glanced down, admiring the tender touch with a wistful smile on his face before he looked up at you and the emotion held inside of those ice-blue eyes was almost enough to send you over the edge and into uncontrollable sobs of relief.

You felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to dissipate. Good, he felt the same way.

He was still staring at you like there was something more on his mind. That was the way things were with Wonka and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion that it’s a good thing you weren’t a mind reader because there were things that went on inside his head that should stay there. It was better that you didn’t try to trace his Machiavellian ways or make sense of the enigmatic man who so frequently surprised you with small glimpses into how he really thought and viewed the world. It was fun getting to know who he was, but the true wonderment was in not knowing him at all.

He tested your mind and all your senses, but never pushed your boundaries. He could knock you off your stride in seconds, then act as if nothing had happened. You were playing his little chess game and he was already three or more moves ahead. It had only been a matter of time before you had fallen into his hands like this.

Things were as they were because Wonka wanted them to be. His quips and wisecracks often went over people’s heads, especially because of how well-versed he was in literature and culture. He could make the whole world fall in love with him at once, then forget him as soon as they were no longer in his presence, but you believed the world adored him much more than he liked to think it did.

“I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want it to seem like I was being insensitive, since I know you’re not intentionally ignoring me.”

This statement made him smile for some reason, “where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.” (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

At first, you didn’t know what to say. You had a bit of trouble discerning what he meant sometimes, missing the larger picture for deciding why he chose a specific quote at a specific time.

Seeming to read your thoughts, he let out a polite chuckle, “This is to say, even in love do the smallest doubts scare you, but when you are afraid of such little things, you are still in love, too.”

His explanation seemed to help, if only for a second.

It was true that you had your doubts, but those doubts only stemmed from love. That fear which grew inside of you had taken root, but when enough time had passed, it was the love which had bloomed from it.

Both the fear and love would come with a connection as strong as this one.

In the beginning, Willy had never dreamed of having a romantic partner. His solitary lifestyle simply lacked the means necessary to cultivate a long-term relationship. He had never desired romance or human connection of any kind. He had his factory and the Oompa-Loompas to look after; he was stretched thin as it was.

It was with sickening rapture that he sought the reason for why his heart seemed so content within your hands. He had to know the true meaning behind what he felt, even if he had to wade out in to the wild, dark depths up to his neck. He was barely treading water, sinking still, feet kicking desperately and hands reaching, clawing for purchase but there was nothing for him to grab onto. No way to steady himself as his soul careened toward what he had been running from for so long, a runaway train on the track towards trust and away from self-preservation.

At first, you wanted to be the one in control. You had your fair share of demons and setting the pace for the relationship yourself was very important to you, but neither of you wanted to go too far too fast.

You became acclimated to his world quite quickly.

You just seemed to fit right in and, with time, Wonka found himself closer to you than he had ever been with another person.

The two of you had been together for quite some time now and the red string of fate binding your hearts together was pulled taut.

It seemed that you both knew you were in the right hands and the love that grew here was stronger than any fears or doubts which gripped you.

“What scares me the most is that you’re pulling away from me,” you confessed to him, and that revelation made his eyes widen perceptibly, “sometimes I think you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

The conversation had shifted and Wonka realized that you were no longer just discussing his absence in light of the holidays. There was deeper emotion and meaning laced within what you were saying to him now.

He was used to being alone, as were you. The only difference was that while you had never lost hope that the right person might come along, he had done everything he could to close himself off. His heart was a precious thing and that was what the world had been after. Yes, he had closed his factory because of theft, but he put his whole heart into his work and, if anyone were to steal his heart, then there would be nothing left for the one whom it belonged to.

He made sure he guarded his heart all these years, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. It was easier to deny the very fact that love was something every person desires, even ones who have become so layered and complex that it would be difficult to imagine what a true love might look like for them.

Wonka was not afraid of anything.

However, if one thing made him apprehensive it was the idea of anyone finding him out.

Not that there was any chance of that; no one was able to think quite like him. But if anyone came close, that meant he’d cling to them forever, holding on for dear love.

His gaze shifted down to your hands that were folded in your lap and reached for one. Long, delicate fingers gently wrapping around your right hand as he brought it to his mouth.

A kiss for each finger, you counted, one two three four five…

Then, his lips made contact with your inner wrist. The sudden and unexpected brush of lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch.

“I promise to be more attentive,” he whispered on your skin, his hot breath tickling the inner area of your wrist, “the only one pulling me anywhere is you and I am only moving forward.”

“You’ve got to go forwards to go back.”

He had believed that, in more ways than just one, in relation to his factory and to people, but there was no going back now. Even if that were an opinion, he wouldn’t have wanted to.

Within half a second, he dropped your hand and tilted his head, leaned in close and pressed his warm lips to yours in the most sensual, tender kiss your lips had ever known.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like butterfly wings beating against your ribcage, desperate to free itself and get to his. Your soul sought the kind of connection that your mouths were getting and jealousy was an understatement.

If this was his way of making it up to you, then let it be known that you wanted nothing else for Christmas this year than a clear mind and the taste of your lover left over on your cupid’s bow.

It was all electric, body and soul alight, glistening brighter than fairy lights strung up for the season.

He tasted sweeter than his own candy and you smiled into the kiss at the very thought. He ate a lot of his own sweets, if only to test the taste, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sugared kisses, your sweet tooth craving satisfied only by his honeyed lips.

Somewhere in the haze you found the opportunity to grip handfuls of his tawny tresses, fingers digging into the soft curls that drove your heart mad with desire. You loved his hair and so infrequently did he let you touch or comb it. It was about as unruly as he was, wild, untamed and free, just like the man it belonged to.

Your gentle tugging on his hair elicited a soft grunt from him and his lips attacked yours more feverishly, taking on a more aggressive quality now that you had accepted and encouraged him.

There was no rhyme or reason for anything that occurred while you were with him, except what was happening now.

Wonka did everything on a whim. Sleeping, eating, working…no schedule, no routine, no nonsense.

“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”

Perhaps the most nonsensical thing that had ever happened in Wonka’s factory was your fear that he might leave you.

Strike that. Don’t reverse it.

You didn’t want anything to change. There were more twists and turns in this man’s head than there were in his factory and you had lost yourself trying to find your way out. You never left his mind, not once. Even while he worked or spent time alone, you were in his thoughts, whether it was subconscious or not.

Your own mind didn’t register your movement as you crawled closer and sought out more of his sugary sweetness which was more potent than any nectar of the gods. Your lips devoured his, tasting every inch of the same mouth that poured prose and poetry into your ear each night that you laid with him.

He hummed pleasantly against your lips. His gentle sounds teased you; so rare was it that he ever made a sound during these moments of intimacy. Oh, how you tried, and your futile attempts filled him with great satisfaction. He had more discipline than you ever imagined; living alone for so many years without the warmth of another had taught him to go without, but desperation clung to his bones and manifested through each fervent, heated kiss.

Willy wouldn’t have described himself as needy, but he appreciated physical intimacy when it occurred and sometimes it was as necessary as any other proper communication. He wanted more than a quick romp; he craved human connection. It was completely unfounded for someone like him to want to share a connection with anyone, but here he was asking for it with his mouth on yours and your reciprocation of that same need meant everything to him.

You tested the waters, grazing your teeth along his bottom lip to determine how far he might be willing to go. He didn’t stop you. His lips simply parted, allowing entry of your tongue.

The only sound he made was a little gasp, which you swallowed as your tongue delved in to taste the inside of his mouth. Your hands were still holding the sides of his head, fingers buried deep within his unruly curls.

He helped maneuver your body closer to his, unabashedly bringing you to sit on his lap. As you settled on top of him, one of his large hands moved down to the small of your back and held you firmly in place.

You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You had no grasp of how long the two of you continued to kiss like that. The passage of time, though a precious thing, was unimportant in the current moment. The only thing you demanded more of was him and you would greedily take all that he had to offer you.

You were enchanted by him. He surprised you at every turn and, if it had been anyone else, you’d have questioned where you stood with them, but wasn’t that the point? The less anyone knew about Willy Wonka, the more exciting it felt to be in his presence.

It was impossible to know whether the things he revealed about himself were true or not and there was beauty in that alone. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, then he had the upper hand here.

You did not stop to see why his hand had suddenly been removed from your back, but any questions you might’ve wished to voice were answered when you noticed him reaching for one of the top buttons on his vest.

The steady progression of events had led you here and you were too immersed within the moment to stop him, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. You were entranced, enthralled, enraptured by the whole of him and his heart belonged to yours.

The wet graze of your tongue against his cupid’s bow spurred him further, lips tangled tantalizingly with yours as his fingers worked open the buttons on his vest.

The threshold had been breached.

The moment was yours for the taking, if you wanted it and you knew that you did.

Lost somewhere between drunk on lust and in love, you began to help him unbutton, starting at the bottom of his vest and continuing until your hands met in the middle of his chest. You followed this same pattern for both rows of buttons.

Coincidentally, this journey ended right above his heart, but another one was merely beginning.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you looked up to notice him already gazing at you lovingly. A tender smile curved his lips like a crescent moon and the sunlight bleeding out through the cracks in your soul made the stars in his eyes sparkle.

You cupped his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss onto the bridge of his nose. His arms encircled you, holding you flush against him and his shirtsleeves rode up on his forearms, exposing just a fraction of skin with a fine dusting of sand-colored hair.

You let him hold you to him as his lips attached to your neck. You imagined when he pulled back that there would be an imprint of lips, a tattoo of his love painted across your collarbone, signifying that you belonged to him alone.

You tilted your head to give him better access and he thanked you by delivering a loving nip to the column of your neck.

You hadn’t forgotten your intention.

With hands still shaking, you reached for his vest and pulled it open. His lips detached from your neck in an instant and long, elegant fingers wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you from undressing him.

His eyes were crystalline pools of skylight, airy and substantially quantified by the depths within them. They had a mirror-like quality and you could see yourself reflected in them as you held his gaze for a heartbeat too long.

“Only if…this is something that we both want…”

Willy’s words of brevity filled you with wonder.

“If I’m being honest with you, Willy…I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than I want you now.”

That single sentence melded with and fused into his soul. In a breath-to-breath admission of consent, your words had tied his tongue with cursive letters.

He breathed a sigh of relief and held within that exhale was his own consent. You had granted him permission, assuring him that you were not offering yourself out of obligation or for complacency’s sake and that thrilled him perhaps as much as the act itself would. He felt the blood rush to his groin and he moved beneath you, shifting your body weight more onto his thigh.

Willy nuzzled your cheek, dragging his nose along your soft skin. His arms had yet to unravel themselves from around you; he wanted to take his time. However, he was increasingly aware of his own sense of desperation. It had been some time since he had last gotten into bed with a lover.

Actually, the last time he had gotten into bed with anyone was with you.

Willy had a low sex drive, but on occasion it would crop up and remind him that he was, in fact, human and had needs, whether it was simple biology or heightened by the desire to connect with the one he loved.

Whenever he thought of a lover and what had previously been just some nameless face at the forefront of his mind, that vision was now you. Yours was the love he sought; your hands were the ones meant to hold his heart.

He let go of you and shrugged off his vest.

Your lips captured his once again and he imagined this was what dreams tasted like.

He went to stand up and you quickly took the hint and moved off his lap. He got up and began unbuttoning his white undershirt while you watched. He could see the fire burning in your irises, your pupils dilated with desire as you watched his delicate fingers pop open each button.

You knew better than to rush him; a treat as sweet as him was meant to be savored.

You took this opportunity to slip your own shirt off your body. With your skin exposed, his eyes traveled across your midsection and his fingers hesitated, fumbling the button he was on. His breath hitched and you swore you heard him whisper the word “beautiful” as he gazed upon you.

Once he had recovered, the swiftness with which he finished removing his undershirt made your head spin. In his haste, he had forgotten to remove his bow tie and unbutton his sleeve cuffs, which made you giggle. He seemed flustered, his cheeks reddening once he realized, and perhaps this was the first time you had ever witnessed him with a blush on his cheeks.

You reached out to help him and a soft chuckle dripped from his lips like maple syrup, “It would appear I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself, my dear.”

You chuckled as well as his bow tie and undershirt were removed, “well, I’ll take it as a compliment…that you seem so eager to have me.”

Your words were spoken as if in jest, but his response was anything but.

“Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love,” he quoted, his smooth baritone steeping you in the tea of his desire. (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

It was enough to quiet your mind and when he said it, you felt your entire world get a little smaller. Your heightened senses had inflated your soul and carried you to the clouds. You were a runaway balloon stuck in a tree and his words were the hand that enclosed around your string. You had seen vast lands and known love in its many forms, but never until this moment had you felt so much in the presence of one.

His heart knew yours better than it knew itself and the cracks left by heartbreak were filled in by your endless love for each other.

You moved in to kiss him again and his hands cupped your warm cheeks. His breath tasted as sweet as the chocolate he made, which only made sense because of how often you saw him sampling it. He kept a bit in his coat that he’d pull out and nibble upon and often would you go sifting through his pockets for little treasures and treats that he had left over. Sometimes you found such delights that it had to have been no accident that they had been left behind. No, he knew your guilty pleasure was his chocolate and he made sure to satisfy your cravings, both for chocolate and for him, as often as possible.

Your tongue slipped inside his mouth and he finally graced your ears with a very delicate moan.

His hands moved down the length of your arms to finally grab your hips. He pulled you in, your pelvis against his, and you could feel the hard press of his bulge against your thigh.

While you kissed, he began to walk you backwards toward your shared bedroom.

You could not have torn your lips apart to look where you were going even if you wanted to.

You trusted him to get you there safely, perhaps more than you had ever trusted another person or at least you hadn’t trusted anyone this deeply in a very long time. Too many others had taken a hammer to your jawbreaker heart and smashed it to more manageably sized pieces, but once broken, it could never be put back together without its’ once-pristine surface now marred with jagged cracks.

At least the breakage let the light of your soul pour out into his hands…

Willy was stained by your brokenness, his heart bruised the color of your trauma.

He had been burned before, broken in a very real way, and therefore it was never a question of if you would trust him, but how much and when. He knew how long it could take a person to truly open up if they wanted to, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity and then some.

Time stood still and Willy had the presence of mind to remember how it felt to cradle your body to his when the only things that cemented your souls was an equal share of trust and love for one another and the mutual decision to take just one more chance.

You sighed with relief when the backs of your knees connected with the mattress.

Willy didn’t push you or press for more. His lips left yours in favor of your neck and several chaste yet sweet kisses were left along your collar bone as if his lips were asking for permission without the accompaniment of words.

In between you, you reached for his belt.

He felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers and a gentle smirk crossed his features, “after something, are we?”

His coy response made the tips of your ears get hot and you huffed, “well, it isn’t my fault that I’ve gone and gotten all excited…”

“I hope you’re not implying that it’s mine,” he replied as his smirk widened.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” your time spent with him had sharpened your wit, “I’m saying it.”

His eyes shared in your mirth, twinkling with laughter at your response. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you in. With his cheek to yours, lips near your ear, he whispered, “shall we make use of your excitement, then, dear?”

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he spoke to you, the dulcet undertones of his honeyed voice pierced you like a knife through the delicate flesh of an orange. You wanted to sink your fingers into his heart and peel it apart to devour the pieces, sustaining yourself on his love.

You nodded and he deemed it appropriate to continue. He gently pushed your hands from his belt and took on the task himself. He pulled it from the loops and laid it on the chair nearest to him.

When he turned back to you, you were already removing your pants. He smiled to himself, stopping in his tracks to admire you as you undressed. He almost wanted to help you, but held himself back. Mutual trust came at a price and he would not want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. You had not explicitly told him not to help, but you hadn’t told him to do it either and so he decided it was best to let you indicate what you wanted from him and how comfortable you were with the situation.

Neither you nor he were particularly trusting individuals. Your experiences with people who took advantage of others made you wary and skeptical, through no fault of your own. Maturity and wisdom came with age and while you had both grown and learned, you had built walls around yourselves both figuratively and literally, in Wonka’s case, to guard your hearts and protect them.

Now, you were bearing your souls to each other.

It was an unlikely thing, but you were both ready. You had known Wonka for a long time now and you had no doubt that you and he were meant to be in each other’s lives. There was a reason that you were here. Even though you might have needed a bit of reassurance from time to time, it was never because you truly thought he might leave you. Giving word to that unreasonable fear set you free, because in your heart of hearts you realized that you were not afraid at all.

You were lonely.

You had forced it down for years, but acknowledging it now was cathartic, because never again would you find yourself isolated like you had so many years before.

Willy was no stranger to isolation either. Though he had reasons other than your own, he empathized.

It was difficult, at times, for the two of you to find a rhythm. Both of you had been alone for so long that it took time to become acclimated to sharing your lives with each other, but in this moment you both knew that there was no person you would each rather share a life with than each other.

Willy was never at risk of pulling away. He was simply learning how to love you.

As soon as you pushed off your pants and stepped out of them, he was kissing you again. In a flourish of limbs and bare skin, you fell backwards onto the mattress with him. His hot lips descended over yours as his fingers linked into the spaces between your own. In all ways except for one, your two bodies were unified and, if either of you could help it, that would soon be remedied.

The mattress dipped and shifted beneath your shared weight as Willy crawled on top of you. You held his hands for as long as you were capable of doing before you needed to feel him more solidly at your fingertips. You dropped his hand, grabbed his shoulder and dug in your nails to hear him hiss into your ear and nip at your neck.

He couldn’t even finish undressing because you demanded every ounce of his attention.

Your spirits were engaged in this battle of carnality and you had consumed him, corrupted his mind and possessed him body and soul, but all’s fair in love and war, both of which you had waged fervently on his senses.

At risk of ruining the moment, he pulled away and got up to finish removing his trousers. Your chest heaved as you took a moment to catch your breath, propping yourself up on one arm.

“And here I thought…we were just getting to the good part,” I quipped. A teasing smile bloomed on my face as he turned to look down at me.

“And I thought you liked my kisses,” He replied without missing a beat.

His lopsided grin made you giggle, but the sound of his zipper being pulled down tore your attention away from the witty banter. The fire of fierce need had begun to burn bright inside your belly once again after being extinguished to mere embers only seconds ago.

You watched him kick off his trousers and make no move to pick them up.

He moved back down onto the bed and leaned into you. You met him halfway and pecked a chaste kiss onto his lips. Your bodies fit together like two immaculately chiseled sculptures whose delicate features appeared to be made of something much softer than stone.

You knew what he wanted from you now and you felt goosebumps rising on your flesh as you anticipated his caress.

He cupped your head, holding you to him as he lowered you back against the pillows. He liked to take charge of this part himself and you let him, despite the anxiety you felt at relinquishing control over yourself. You didn’t like feeling out of control, especially of your body and Willy knew this. He tried his best to make you feel comfortable and safe, never moving forward without verbal consent.

“Shall I touch you, dear?”

You reflected on his question before you nodded, swallowing thickly before you could make a sound, “yes.”

You knew that he would check in with you frequently to make certain you still wished to continue.

With your consent, his fingertips grazed the length of your arms. His warm touch sent pleasant shivers through you and you fought the urge to arch into him. He had a way of making you feel everything he wanted you to feel with just one touch. It was like magic, the control he had over your body and sometimes you wondered if his creative abilities branched into other realms as well.

His hands slid down your sides, massaging your warm skin and admiring your supple curves, the angles and indentations of your hips. Before he traveled lower, Willy wanted to devote some appreciation to the rest of your body first. His hands moved to your back, working underneath you to swiftly unclip your bra. He had a way of doing things so fast that you barely had time to register what he was doing before it was done. Perhaps it didn’t seem possible, but impossibility did not exist where Willy Wonka came from; if there was a way to do the impossible, he had already figured it out and told no one.

With your unclasped bra no longer pulled taut, he delicately pushed the straps off your shoulders and plucked the hindersome piece of fabric away from your chest. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor and his blue eyes glittered with mischief when he looked upon your exposed breasts.

You wanted to cover them, but he held your arms at your sides. True to the creative genius he was, he had to admire beauty where and when he saw it and you were a masterpiece. His tight smile had relaxed as he gazed down at you beneath him and he practically cooed with appreciation for your form.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered heatedly, like it was almost difficult for him to get the words out. He was overwhelmed with all his attention focused on the body before him.

You wanted to thank him for the compliment, but all that came out was a soft squeak.

He chuckled at your little sound and bent his head. He placed a firm kiss on your left breast and you sighed in pleasure at the gentle touch of his plush lips on your pillowy skin. His lips traced the curves of your breasts before encircling one of your nipples, suckling lightly as if it were a piece of candy.

You mewled and arched into his mouth, desiring more from him and as quickly as possible, but Willy liked to take his time with you. He never left you unsatisfied, but you could expect nothing to be fast paced.

His fingers wrapped around your hips to hold you in place as he moved to your other breast and did the same thing. His hot tongue teased your candy pieces to hardness and he hummed his appreciation, sending waves of pleasure down to your core.

You squirmed in his grasp and whimpered pathetically, “please, Willy,” you begged him, “I want you now.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have me, dear,” he reassured you, his thumbs rubbing placatingly against your hips, “when I’m ready for you to.”

His teasing remark made you huff in irritation until his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your cotton panties and paused you in your tracks.

You whined as his fingers barely breached the fabric barrier before he removed them. His hands moved to your inner thighs and spread your legs apart for him to nestle in between them.

All you could do was watch as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your navel, just below your belly button. His kisses traveled lower and lower down your pelvis to your pubic bone and finally to your core. You writhed in pleasure when his mouth found its way to where you wanted it, but your panties were still in the way and you groaned with frustration.

Heat emanated from your core due to your arousal and the crotch of your panties were damp with your wetness.

Your head dropped back against the pillow as he used the tip of his nose to brush lightly against your clit through your panties.

You were so pliant to his will and responsive to his touch that he almost felt powerful. If it had been anyone other than him, he would have, but all he felt in this moment was an overwhelming feeling of love. The fact that he could give you a comfortable experience of vulnerability and pleasure perhaps did enflame his ego a bit, but he loved you even more for it. To see you enjoying yourself because of him was almost too much for him to handle and he could feel his cock swell to attention.

He placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to the crotch of your panties before he dragged them down your legs. He would have liked to tease you more, but he was already beginning to lose patience and he didn’t want to rush through too quickly.

With your panties removed, he could admire your glistening folds and the sweet juices that had dribbled out of you. His mouth watered as he delved in for a taste, his tongue tentatively flickering against your opening.

You let out a cry and bucked your hips, desperate for him to fill you. You needed friction and fullness to achieve release and Willy knew you couldn’t get either of those things without his compliance. He smirked at that and lowered his head between your thighs.

Your hot core pulsed as more of your honey leaked onto his tongue. He moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste of your sweetness and the delicious sounds you were making for him. He had never tasted anything this sweet except for his chocolate and if he could have only one of those two things right now he would have picked you without a second thought.

It was almost too much for him to pull his mouth away, but he knew that he must if he were to indulge in the ultimate act of pleasure with you. You both wanted that more than you wanted air to breathe. A greater craving than candy, your existing love and soul connection a stronger aphrodisiac than chocolate.

With a final flick of his tongue against your clit, he dragged his mouth off you. You whimpered at the loss, but in the back of your lust-flavored cotton candy mind you knew that your shared night of pleasure was just beginning.

He got off the bed again and opened the nightstand drawer. He withdrew a small tinfoil packet and a small clear bottle of lubricant.

You were still sprawled out on the mattress, your hair a halo around your head. The darkened room made it difficult to see what he was doing, but your eyes had adjusted enough for you to see movement.

You felt eyes on you and before you glanced up from the object he was holding, his voice broke the silence, “are you comfortable continuing?”

Driven by lust and lover’s greed, you nodded your consent. Willy did not respond at first, waiting on your actual acknowledgement and proper agreement. Your voice was shaky as you replied to him, but you knew what you wanted and were certain in your response, “yes. I want this. I want you, Willy.”

The sincerity in your voice convinced him and he tore open the condom wrapper.

Excitement thrilled you and coursed through your veins, carried into your heart by blood. Your body was singing with sensation as you wanted nothing more than his solid body atop you, his hard length buried in your tight heat.

You watched him with barely-concealed enthusiasm – well, perhaps the only concealment was from the darkness in the bedroom – as he took off his underwear and rolled the condom on. He then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock.

You could hear him jerking himself off and the obscenely slick sounds from the generous amount of lube. He had yet to give himself any physical stimulation up until this point and you were eager to repay the favor.

In the dark, your reached for him and he came to you, ready to meld together and fill you full of himself.

He positioned himself on top and guided your legs around his hips. He propped himself up with one forearm flat against the mattress so that he wouldn’t rest his entire body weight on you and the other guided his condom-covered tip to your entrance.

He gave your forehead a tender kiss as he pressed in. Your lips parted at your sharp intake of breath and your muscles tightened and seized around him. Willy kissed your face, calming you and keeping you still and relaxed until he bottomed out.

He nuzzled against your cheek and moved his free arm behind you to cradle your head.

You tilted your head back and captured his lips. The two of you kissed lazily for several moments as your bodies adjusted to one another. Your walls twitched around his cock, sending jolts of electricity down to his toes, into the pit of his stomach and behind his eyes. Everything felt fuzzy and seemed out of focus except for you.

The one thing that was clear to him was his love for you and the appreciation he had for you being a part of his life. If he could not trust a single soul with his legacy, he knew that he could trust you with himself and that was more than enough.

For once, nothing made you question Willy Wonka; his intentions were clear.

Your fears were just that: fear. It was irrational and based on nothing of consequence. However, the very fact that you were afraid let you and he both know how much you cared.

You would never take Willy, and he would never take you, for granted.

He would reassure you that though he was not used to sharing his world with another, that you were his world now and you would share in every aspect with him and reap the rewards of a unique and whimsical life with perhaps the greatest chocolatier who ever lived.

Take out all the fantasy and spectacle and you were left with only love and imagination.

All these people thought the most fantastical thing about Willy Wonka were his creations, but what took your breath away, and had since the beginning, was the man behind those creations.

You had fallen in love with him as much as you had with his brain and his intellect, his body, his soul. You wanted to dip your fingers into him like if he were made of melted chocolate. You would lick the essence of his existence off your fingertips to taste his candy-coated soul and sugared thoughts. There were not many candies or chocolates of the Wonka brand that you hadn’t tried, but none were sweeter than the man himself.

If he existed only in your mind, then your mind was alive with the thought of him.

All too soon, your thoughts abandoned you as you felt him begin to move.

He slowly pulled out, angled his hips and pushed back in.

The sudden movement jarred your body and you clung to him tighter.

As he began to set a pace, you rolled your hips down onto him each time that he pushed in. This seemed to please him, witnessing you thrusting with him, your bodies moving in unison toward a shared release and reciprocation of pleasure.

He grunted softly in your ear with the effort of thrusting into you. His soft curls tickled your cheek and you bit back a giggle. A particularly rough thrust ripped the sound from your throat and you laughed aloud.

His brows furrowed in amusement at your laughter, but he grinned with you nonetheless.

His thrusts became harsher, deepening as you adjusted and conformed to the rhythm and pace he set that was creating a delicious friction between your legs. You moaned shamelessly into his ear and he thrusted harder, encouraged by the sinful sounds you were making.

Willy kissed you, his lips feverishly moved against yours as he held you in his embrace and your skin blazed with red hot fervor. A thin sheen of sweat clung to your bodies and you could feel the heat rolled off him in waves. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but it didn’t bother you as you kissed him harder, demanding more intensity out of your shared intimacy. Your core pulsed, muscles gripping and clenching tightly around his cock.

Your moans began to take on a higher pitch the closer you got to your release. Willy could tell that you were close now and he was eager to send you over the edge. Sex was, at least for him, about mutual enjoyment and gratification, not domination, exploitation or manipulation. It was about individuals who loved each other enough to put aside their individuality and become one, just for a moment of bliss.

His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusted into you harder than before, his pace becoming erratic the closer he came to his own release.

As he panted, you felt his breath fan across your face and he smelled of chocolate.

You balanced on the edge of oblivion as your feverish coupling would soon send you into orgasm.

After a few more hard thrusts, Willy slipped a hand between your legs and gently rubbed your clit. Your release seized you, your body shaking violently with hurricane force winds of equal parts pleasure and zest. It was as if the air had been knocked out of you and you were falling down into his waiting arms. Ecstasy radiated from your core, carried in waves throughout your body.

You were alone with your pleasure, waiting on your lover to join you in the afterglow.

You cried out his name as he thrusted into you through your orgasm. He lasted several moments after you came before he released, filling the condom with several hot bursts of his seed.

He had just enough strength left in his body to pull out and collapse beside you. His harsh panting soon turned to gentle sighs as his heartrate decreased and his body cooled. His strawberry blonde curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and were sticking out at wild angles except for the top which was always a bit flattened from the way he wore his hat.

You reached out and petted his frizzy hair, your fingers delicately massaging his scalp. He let out a quiet little moan and you smiled at him.

With a deep inhale, he sat up and peeled the sticky condom off his softening prick. He tied it up and tossed it in the wastebin, then snatched his underwear off the ground. He picked yours up as well and handed them to you for you to slip on.

You got off the bed and put your panties back on, then crossed the room to the bathroom. A few moments later, when you returned after you had cleaned yourself up, you found him lying in bed waiting for you.

He smiled at you as you approached and extended an arm out to let you curl into his side as you got back on the bed with him. He already had a blanket laid out to pull across your nude bodies so that you could cuddle in modesty and without getting a chill.

He looked down to watch you settle in and you met his gaze for a moment, appreciating his features. His gorgeous blue eyes were like pools of galaxy speckled with stars. His aquiline nose, which most people thought was too big for his face, looked proportionate in your opinion and beautiful just the same. He had the softest features of any man you had ever seen, slightly chubby cheeks, a round face and curved jawline. He was exquisite in every sense of the word and just looking at him made you fall more deeply in love.

As attractive as he was to you, his personality spoke to yours in a language only the two of you spoke fluently.

His appreciation for literature and culture was unique and inspiring and, because it tied in with your own, you learned a lot from each other. His quick wit and casual snide remarks that often passed over other people’s heads made you laugh as though you were enjoying your own little joke with each other.

During your private appreciation for this man, you concluded that you had no reason to ever think he might be pulling away from you.

In surreal Willy Wonka fashion, he seemed to read your thoughts as he finally spoke, “I’d like to see you in the Inventing Room with me tomorrow. I want you to be as involved with the holiday busy season as I am.”

He addressed your insecurities by offering a solution to the problem and your heart felt a bit lighter. He wanted you to be involved in his work so that you didn’t feel so isolated or lonely. He had promised to be more attentive and he intended to do just that, but you could offer him aid and visit him while he worked. True love was buoyed by compromise; you’d see to it that you did your part to keep your relationship strong.

“Forgive me for not being as attentive as I should be,” he continued, “I’ve been so busy, not to excuse myself.”

“I understand,” you replied.

He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he half-expected you to still be upset, “and it isn’t entirely your fault. I should come around more if I’m missing you. We’ll find a solution. We have time.” Willy put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could kiss your head, “time is a precious thing, my dear. Never waste it.”

Between his words, you heard what he was not saying.

And while he had a point, what you did have was now.

You could agree just to exist for a moment, sharing in the silence of the universe and listening to nothing but your dreams and the sounds of your hearts.

You would fall into each other the same way that you fell in love: accidentally and achingly slow.

One day you would both look up and see how far you had come, but for now, you still had a way to go.

You knew his heart belonged to yours and that was enough to keep trying. Once the busy season calmed down and you had more time to focus on the two of you, you would ease into it like lovers were meant to, but right now you had an obligation to yourselves not to let the fear of failure drive you apart.

It might seem fatalistic to ruin a relationship before it had run its course, but you’d seen it happen and the last thing you wanted was for that to be yours.

You knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen.

Your love was as strong as your imaginations were wild and no mind would ever dare dream the two of you apart.

#willy Wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

PROMPTS FOR STARRY-EYED SOULMATES * assorted romantic dialogue, adjust as necessary

i feel drawn to you in ways i can't explain.

you're the one. do you hear me? you're it. you're the only one i want for the rest of my life.

you are the most beautiful person i have ever known in my life, and i'm madly in love with you.

i love you entirely. i love you completely.

i'll be here for you forever. i'll never leave your side.

do you believe we were made for each other?

i can't fathom a world without you. i never want to know what that looks like.

so this is what it feels like? true love?

we can't be apart. we can't exist without each other.

you came into my life and changed everything. i'm different now. better. you make me better.

i feel so overwhelmingly lucky to know you and to have you.

it's like we were made for each other.

from the very first moment i saw you, i knew. i knew you were the one.

do you believe in love at first sight?

i hope it always feels like this.

you have become everything to me. you are the most important thing in my whole life.

i'm so deeply in love with you.

i never believed in love until i met you. this made it real for me.

everything i've ever done, everything i've ever gone through... it was worth it. it was worth it to find you.

i waited a lifetime to find you. i'd wait a thousand lifetimes more.

the universe conspired to bring us together. i believe that.

you don't know what you do to me.

i crave the taste of your mouth like nothing else on earth. i need your kiss.

i swear to you right now, i'm going to marry you someday.

my atoms know your atoms. my body needs your body.

there's nothing i want more than to spend the rest of my life by your side, whatever it takes.

i admire the utter strength of you. you never fail to blow me away.

nothing will take me from you. do you understand?

i will never leave your side. i am meant for you. i belong to you.

every time you look at me, i lose control of my body, my lungs... i can't breathe. i can't think. i can't function.

come any closer, and i swear... i'll love you for the rest of my life.

not even death can take you from me.

stay close to me. hold my hand. cling to me.

i think i was created with you in mind.

you are simply the most beautiful person i have ever known. i can't possibly live without you.

before i met you, i never believed in a one true love. you changed that. you changed everything.

i'm speechless. you're remarkable.

i'm drawn to you. i've been drawn to you since the day we met.

there's not a single part of you i don't love with all my heart and soul.

you're my other half. my better half. i couldn't do this without you.

there aren't enough words in the english language to explain how deeply i love you.

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emsgwenstan · 7 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Chap 1 | chap 2

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) reader

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Violet Hastings is a feminine and strong willed woman, who also has a lot of secrets, from her unconventional job to her personal issues, Larissa may be the one who opens violets heart but what is the price?

Warnings: eventual swearing, self criticism, hurt/angst, body issues| this chapter, none?

There it’s a lot in store for this just bare with me it’s only the intro. <3

———

“Violet get in here!” My boss called out into the work shop. “Coming!” I yell back, setting down the sand paper on the bench. Quickly making my way to his office I manage to scrape my leg yet again on a protruding piece of timber, with no time I decide against cleaning off the blood that’s now dipping down the length of my leg, when he wants me he wants me now.

Opening the door my breath was caught in my lungs upon laying eyes on the most beautiful woman i had ever seen. “Violet this is miss Weems, she’s looking to have a few cupboards made.” He said half assed with a sigh as if he’s so hard done by. The woman gleamed up at me, uncrossing her legs and extending to her full height. She was tall, very tall but not to much taller than me, already so captivating.

“Larissa.” She said with a deep voice holding out a delicate hand for me to shake. ‘My Larissa you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever gazed at’. I thought as i took her hand and gently yet professionally greeted her properly. “Violet.” I breathed hardly remembering if that was right. The touch lingered a little long, but I’m aching to be eligible enough to feel her hand once again.

“So… what exactly are you looking for.” I asked after clearing my throat. “She wants to get some tall cupboards for classroom storage at that school outta town.” He interjected. I shot him a glare at his rude behaviour. “As I recall I believe I asked miss Weems.” I snapped with a smile, returning my gaze back to her. “Well that is correct, but I was wondering if you had any ideas for the design, I want it to match the interior of the rooms if possible.” She said timidly, her English accent clear and alluring. “Of course I’ll take you to the show room.” I said turning to hold the door open for her.

On the short walk, the air was filled with a comfortable silence, which was nice because I’m not one for small talk. “Here we are, go nuts.” I chuckled. Larissa paced about the room and went from each item on display running her finger tips along the edges. I admired her for doing so, sometimes feeling something is far more important than looking, although that to is quite necessary, but I also admired her, her posture and height, her beauty and kindness, Larissa seems to be the epitome of grace, to which I envy.

“Oh my goodness these are incredible.” she said turning to look at me over her shoulder. I blushed and tilted my head down slightly flustered. “Who ever made all of this is very good, just look at the detail.” smiling and saying nothing, Larissa faced me probably observing my silence. “Did- did you do all of this?” She asked. “Guilty.” I responded returning her gaze. “Well, you very talented, your skill is remarkable.” She said, making me smile in thanks.

“So anything in particular catch your eye?” I wondered. “All of it honestly, but…personally this is my favourite.” Larissa walked a few steps to a vanity i made a few years back, not one that goes in a bathroom but the free standing one’s that go in a bedroom or foyer. I could see how her face contorted into awe at its presents, her eyes scanning over the fine details scribed into marble tops edge and the vintage gold handles, the mirror frame also a painted embellished gold. Larissa looked at me and began to speak again. “You know, this is off topic but… it was quite refreshing to see you walk in before, I thought I would be dealing with another incipient man.” She said not bothering to care if it caused offence. It was absolutely taken as a compliment.

“Well, if I’m being honest, it was lovely to see you to, we get all sorts of different clients who may I say are a handful to deal with, especially since they get palmed off to me considering I’m the only worker.” I replied in hopes of showing my gratitude for her compliance. “Your the only other person who works here… apart form your boss?” She asked almost in a concerned manner. “Yes, no body else finds him tolerant enough to stick around, so really the only reason I’m here is because I have some freedom over what I do, a little blackmail of me leaving and him shutting down for good always seems to do the trick.”

Larissa grinned at my words understanding that you need to play a little dirty if you want to survive in the business industry, something Larissa knows very well. “I tell you what… It’s yours, I have no use for it, I just have to tweak a few things before I deliver it for you.” I said hoping she would like the offer. “Oh no… I couldn’t.” She muttered but her face said otherwise. “Cant or won’t?” I asked almost as if i were daring her just to say yes.

Larissa eventually accepted the offer with much reluctance, her blush didn’t go unnoticed when i grasped her bicep smiling at her when she obliged. “Well, when would you like me to come and take some measurements?” hoping it’s soon so i don’t die of anticipation. “Does tomorrow evening work for you? It’s probably best that you come when students aren’t in the way.” She spoke. “Tomorrow it’s just fine how is four o’clock?” I asked. “Perfect.” She said.

Larissa looked down at her feet for a moment to avoid her crimson cheeks being displayed, but quickly her eyes found my shin. “Oh what have you done? Your bleeding.” She uttered, a look of worry washed over her features. Looking down remembering that i had in fact cut myself. “It’s nothing look at all the other scars, I’m sure you can tell it’s not the first time.” I laughed, shrugging it off as no big deal. Larissa opens her purse and pulled out a plaster holding it out for me to take. “Here.” She said. I sighed and took it thanking her and saying it’s not necessary. “It’s absolutely necessary, you need to look after yourself darling, I have to make sure the woman I need is in good physical health now dont I?” She protested. ‘Darling!? her charm is going to kill me!’.

Walking back to the office I said goodbye and good luck dealing with my boss to finalise some paperwork, Larissa let out a breathy chuckle at the statement and bid me farewell also. I paced back to my bench and resumed the task with only one thing on my mind, a beautiful woman called Larissa Weems.

———

The next morning was a drag, it honestly couldn’t go any slower, excitement pulsed though my body as well as butterflies in my stomach, just thinking about meeting Larissa again I’m torn between nervousness and the trill of seeing her, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so giddy just because of a simple conversation or over anything for that matter.

After securing a few shipments of board to make a wardrobe for another client and doing some required maintenance on machinery it was finally time to drive to nevermore, that in its self was exciting. Before I started the twenty minute drive, i went to the weathervane to get a hot chocolate and a pastry on the way and hesitantly bought another set to offer Larissa. I have never done anything like this before. ‘God is she going to think I’m weird for buying her this? Does she even like this stuff? Let’s hope she’s not lactose intolerant or a gluten free person. God Just. Calm. Down’.

The drive down the road leading to the school was in some way magical, the trees making a canopy was surreal, the sunlight creeping through the branches and casting flickering rays along the windscreen, the cool breeze that was gently blowing the leaves was a beautiful sight. Anything that wasn’t four walls and loud noises was remarkable, it feels like when i take a step outside of the work shop and back into the world I’m alive or regenerated again.

Arriving through the iron gates my face dropped at the sight of the imposing school, it was huge and the architecture was to die for, it had a gothic aesthetic yet a warm nature to it. ‘My kind of place’. Parking in the staff lot, i made my way out of the car taking the drinks and paper bag holding the food and walked to what seemed to be the front entrance.

It was very quiet the only sounds were light howling of wind through the stone halls and hushed conversations of students bathing in the sun sitting in what you assume is the quad, even if it shaped as a pentagon. Walking aimlessly through archways and openings I found myself In front of a staircase, my gut is telling me to at least try to see if I’m in the right direction of her office.

At the top of the stairs there were plenty of painted portraits of people who were obviously previous headmasters and important alumni, all seemingly men to, that was until my eye was caught by a flurry of light colour. Just as I thought it was Larissa, her bright hair pinned to perfection and blue eyes radiant, i give credit to whoever captured all of her beauty, especially that little scare above her lip that i somehow absolutely adore.

My staring was cut short when I heard a door open and heals clicking against the marble floors, whipping around I immediately remember she’s far more beautiful in person. “What a horrid experience that was.” She said nodding towards the portrait. “Looks pretty incredible to me.” I said giving her a grin. “Yes well, sitting in silence for six hours without a break wasn’t very ideal, not to mention having to go back the next day to do it again was dreadful.” She chuckled. She tilted her head to look at herself and grimaced at it. “To be quite honest I try so hard to avoid it every time I step of of my office.” She said softly and turned her gaze back to me. “You shouldn’t it’s beautiful.” I said. With a huff Larissa straightened her posture and regained her mask of professionalism. “Hello violet.” She said realising she hadn’t greeted me properly. “Hi.” I responded.

Larissa turned and placed her hand on my shoulder walking me to her office. As we stepped inside the amazement came back tenfold, her interior was impeccable every colour and material held a rich aesthetic, from layered curtains to thick rugs and simple yet eye catching memorabilia that was effortlessly critiqued into place. She has wonderful taste, the only downside was her desk, a small crappy little thing that I’m sure she has trouble fitting under.

Larissa rounder her desk and sat at her throne of a chair and wordlessly asked you to sit by motioning her hand. “Oh, by the way I wasn’t exactly sure if or what you wanted but I brought you a hot chocolate and and a croissant.” You said holding up the goods. “You didn’t.” She said a grin appearing on her face. “I didn’t know what you liked or if you could eat or drink it, but I just thought I shouldn’t be selfish and offer you something anyway.” You shyly stated. “No I want it, that’s my usual actually.” She said. “I hope Your not lying to not make me feel bad are you?” You asked. “Not at all.” She smiled. “Ok well I have one that’s just plain and one that has whipped cream and marshmallows in it so take your pick.” You said pointing to the designated cups. Larissa bites on her bottom lip as she inches toward the drink with the toppings. “Don’t tell anyone but I have the biggest sweet tooth.” She giggled, the sound alone was a melody you wished to hear forever.

“So tell me about the process of making and installing the cupboards? Is it difficult? How would you manage to trek them into the school? Especially by yourself, I’d help you but I’m afraid I’m rather weak.” Larissa asked after she let out a hum at the taste of the drink, getting lost in her own mind wondering about the questions. You chuckled at her slight concern. “Well we figure out what colour or patterned board your looking for, order it and manufacture it in the work shop and I deliver and install it, as for bringing it here I’ll figure that out.” I said taking a sip of my own drink.

Larissa nodded at my words and seemingly scanned my figure, her eyes ran over the expanse of my body from hair and eyes to my clothes, crossed legs and shoes. I broke the silence feeling a little self conscious under her piercing gaze. “I’m afraid my uniform isn’t nearly as impeccable as yours I’m sorry.” I laughed nervously snapping her back to reality. “No, I was actually admiring, I think florissant pink looks great on you and I adore the pink laces on your boots.” She said politely pointing at your feet. “Oh thanks I guess, I decided that if I were to work in this industry I wanted to look quite feminine, what ever that is right?” I chucked. “Yes I see.” She smiled taking another sip.

After a few conversations about little bits of information and other steps, Larissa guided me back down stairs to a classroom. The whole time I spoke with her I realised how easy she is to talk to, Larissa comes across as sweet and charming, charismatic and intelligent, I do feel like slowly she’s peeling layers of professionalism back and being a little more personable and vulnerable, but so am I, not once have i had someone so friendly and easygoing to work or deal with, Larissa seems to understand my opinions and does everything she can to be as simple as she can to make things easier for me. Although a part of me can’t help but wonder if she’s just only being friendly for the sake of it or if Larissa genuinely likes me as a person.

After discussing the materials and rough estimates for costs Larissa and I walked back towards my car. “I’m really looking forward to seeing the results once everything is finalised.” She said clasping her hands in front of herself. “So am I, I think everything is going to look and function great.” I spoke. For a moment she didn’t say anything and just looked at me, although my gaze was diverted to behind her, a car was backing out rather quickly and without thinking i grasped her wrists and pulled her flush against me to prevent her from possibly being hit.

Larissa was stunned at the sudden movement just as much as i was, the person who was driving stopped and wound down the window, a woman with red hair and glasses far to big for her face gave an apologetic smile “oh my god I’m soo sorry I didn’t see you guys there, forgive me principal Weems.” Larissa gave you a look before stepping back and composing herself. “That’s alright Marilyn, please be careful next time.” She said, you could tell she was slightly annoyed it was actually quite funny. With that the woman drove off leaving myself and Larissa in silence. “Sorry about that.” She said. “How is that your fault?” I asked. “It’s not but…” she began. “It’s fine, I just didn’t want you to be run over.” I stated. “I suppose a thank you is in order than.” “No problem miss Weems.” I said. “Please, call me Larissa, I get sick of hearing that name every waking moment of the day.” The woman asked me hopefully. “Ok than Larissa, I’ll be seeing you sometime soon, don’t overwork yourself, I need you in good shape to tell me your thoughts on things ok?” I half joked clearly mocking her for the previous day, but wished it entirely. “I will darling, take care of yourself as well.” Again with the darling. At that I slipped into the drivers seat of my work car and waved Larissa goodbye heading back down the driveway.

Larissa slowly walked back towards her office stopping every so often to absorb the sunshine’s warmth, before heading down the cold stone corridors. She stepped inside of her room and smiled at the empty cup on her desk, Larissa wrapped her perfectly manicured hands around the paper and went to throw it in the bin, however she stopped in her tracks at the delicate handwriting with a phone number and name marked with ‘vi ;)’. She grinned at herself and whipped out her phone.

‘Meet me at the weathervane in your lunch break tomorrow? ~Larissa.’

@sabraaabra

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic

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theladyfulcrum · 1 year

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Come here children. Come here. Sit down. Take my hands. Listen.

Here’s what we are not going to do. We are not going to let them unravel us and leave us in a heap of bawling bodies. They want us to sob until our eyes fall out and we rupture our abdominal organs because they’re heartless and sadistic and part of STAR WARS—shhh, steady—but we are going to remain CALM. Call it denial, call it call it bargaining, call it what you will, but he’s not gone.

Deep breaths, all together now. Crying is cathartic and necessary for coping with the emotional abuse we endure at the hands of Filoni et al., but don’t cry from lost hope. I’m serious. Was it among the worst things we could have possibly been forced to watch? Has a good majority of the fandom been mulling where the hell we are supposed to find the will to go on after that? Of course. But they’ll be back. And Tech will be, too.

Hush, child. Listen to me.

There was a reason he fell into cloud-cover. He could have been falling into anything. Water can be lethal from that height, yes, but let’s all just remember what Hunter pulled in War-Mantle with falling OUT OF A SHIP and down a LITERAL MOUNTAIN and surviving that with JUST HIS KNIFE. HIS KNIFE, KIDS. Tech accepted what he was doing, and he was okay with dying if that was what this meant, but he’s Tech. Once he fell from view he did whatever he could to increase his odds of getting out of it alive. Trust.

Speaking of falling from view— we know the Clone Wars rules. No body, no confirmed death. Forget that— we know the STAR WARS rules. Even if someone gets SLICED IN HALF before your VERY EYES and FALLS AN INDETERMINABLE-BUT-DEFINITELY-NOT-SURVIVABLE DISTANCE, they STILL aren’t dead. Further still, if you had put the two scenes in front of me with no context, I would have said Echo’s death in an EXPLOSION of FIRE seemed more final and certain that Tech falling away from us. And no, I don’t care about the argument that it’s a kId’S ShOW so they wouldn’t show us the body. Go watch Colt’s death and get back to me. Or you know, pretty much any Clone Wars episode.

BUT THE GOGGLES, you wail. I know, dear heart, I know. I see the cracks in them every time I close my eyes. But Hemlock getting his hands on those isn’t confirmation of anything other than what we already know— no matter where he wound up, Tech is having a Very Bad Time™️. Whether he lost them on the extremely unpleasant way down or whether he’s being experimented on in critical condition is hardly a nicer thing to know, but we’ll take just about anything right now if it means we’ll see our boy again, won’t we?

Shhh, I’m not through. We also have that scene with Phee. If it had been a true goodbye, if Tech had shown an ounce of the development he had with Omega about differences in emotional processing and communication, you’d have seen my soul depart through the atmosphere. But no. That scene’s entire purpose was to be unresolved. Was it just to make us incurably sad in retrospect? Maybe. But my gut says no— there’s more he needs to say to her.

On that note, the same goes for Tech and Crosshair. I refuse to believe we’ll never see them together again. I don’t have anything stronger than my refusal, but my feelings on this are rock solid. There’s also the important issue of THE Bad Batch theme— you know how they’ve established a precedent of not using it unless the whole Batch is together? Collectively, we’re going to refuse to believe they’re going to break that now. And there’s too much love for that theme to never hear it again.

Finally, beloveds, we come to our old favorite: story analysis. You know I’m insufferable about this, but listen. If we look at screenwriting, if we look at story structure, if we look at BEATS, this is the old “DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL” for the Batch (and us obviously). It’s the ALL IS LOST. The EVERYTHING IS AWFUL AND THE HEROES ARE AT THEIR LOWEST LOW. It’s the classic “oh my god this second installment is EMOTIONAL TORTURE HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME” that we can point to in novels, shows, and film series again and again. It’s the ESB ending, it’s the Catching Fire ending, it’s the Rebels S2 AHSOKA IS D E A D AND ANAKIN KILLED HER ending. S3 will open as they enter Act III, where they use what they’ve learned to move upwards toward the finale of this particular story arc. Doesn’t that sound like something nice to cling to?

There now. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you all the choice of k!lling me first or tossing me alive out of a plane with no *hard swallow* parachute, jet pack, or functional grappling gun. But I truly believe you won’t have to.

In the year or two we have to wait, cry for his absence, cry for the Batch being more fractured and farther apart than they ever have been, cry for Hunter feeling like he’s failed everyone he loves, cry for all of it, but not because you’ve lost hope that all might not be lost.

Tech will be back.

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folkookie97 · 9 months

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❝ twisted in bedsheets ❞ — jjk

— PAIRING: ex boyfriend!jungkook x female!reader

— SUMMARY: ❝ An affair with your ex who's your children's dad isn't a good idea. Especially when he's about to get married. ❞

— TYPE: angst | non-idol!au

— WORD COUNT: 2,617

— WARNINGS: Past/Secret relationship, Cheating, Coparenting, Husband!Taehyung, Jungkook has a fiancée, Mention of (2) Unplanned Pregnancy, Slight Toxic!relationship, Curses, Sad/Open(?) ending, Inspired by August & Illicit Affairs (Taylor Swift), Mention of brother!Namjoon, Mention of Marriage Convenience, Argument

— NOTES: i hope u like it <3 happy birthday to our bunny

— RELEASE DATE: September 01, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

Forgiveness is inevitable for our individual evolution. It's necessary in any religion or even in psychology, which emphasizes the importance of that attitude and feeling so that we can have a better life.

Could that be the reason why things were so complicated?

Your brother used to say that you had extreme difficulty in overcoming certain situations, especially when people harmed you. It was as if you didn't care about their remorse. Even when years passed it was like you focused on the pain felt by your past self and refused to forget what they'd done.

Whenever Namjoon said that you would roll your eyes and vehemently deny it. Not only due to the discomfort of acknowledging a possible red flag but also because you didn't see yourself that way.

At least until that day.

"I'm seeing you received his wedding invitation." You felt a kiss on your face as Taehyung entered the living room accompanied by your two children, who didn't waste any time jumping onto your lap and showering you with hugs.

With your head still slightly sore, you returned the affection and watched the two kids running towards their bedrooms.

"How did you know he was engaged?"

The sigh that escaped Taehyung's lips increased your irritation. You made an effort to not rush him as you continued analyzing the expressions on his face. You noticed everything from the subtle bite he gave to his upper lip to the furrowing of his brows.

"He mentioned it to me."

You definitely didn't expect that. Anything was possible except for that.

What the hell was going on?

"Wow, amazing! You and Jungkook become fucking friends again?" You screamed and laughed sarcastically at the same time. "How'd it happen?"

Taehyung trembled at your voice's volume. He never saw you so stressed before. Yelling at him wasn't your style. Like never.

"My darling..." He attempted, sitting beside you and trying to get closer. Despite knowing the reason for your anger, Taehyung wasn't ready for the blow to his heart as he saw you move your body further into the sofa's corner. Away from him. "(Y/N), stop it…"

"Tell me that shit right now or I swear I'll sleep somewhere else tonight."

You didn't want your words to sound so offensive. You were even trying hard.

However, Taehyung knew you well. He knew you all too well. You couldn't fault him for being such an amazing husband.

You changed the question when the silence hung too long, "Why'd you keep this from me?"

“I was afraid you'd wanna be in his bride's shoes."

At that moment you knew Taehyung was correct even with such selfishness.

You really wanted to be in Jihyo's shoes.

You wanted to be Jeon Jungkook's future wife.

After so many years. You still wanted him back.

Resentment. Anger. Jealousy. Envy. Sadness.

Those were the feelings that took over your heart when Jungkook's messages showed up on your phone screen.

"Can you meet me at the snack bar near your house in half an hour? It's about my wedding. Take the twins if you can."

You rolled your eyes with an urge to send him to hell fucking strong.

So it was hard to believe that you were really fighting the intrusive thoughts and getting the twins ready for the meet.

Ivy wore a pink dress detailed with sunflowers and yellow shoes. The little hair bow was the same color as the flowers and contrasted with the dark tone of her hair strands.

Dressing Oliver was always a hard situation so you chose didn't stress yourself more than usual. You gave way to the little boy's desire to wear a simple Spider-Man costume and Iron Man flip flops.

You looked around for Jungkook when you arrived at the snack bar but couldn't find him anywhere. Rolling your eyes and biting your lip to push away the anger starting creeping into your veins, you decided to sit with the kids at a table farther away and near the large window.

The bell on the entrance door rang once again after you ordered a portion of French fries and hurried footsteps ran towards the three of you.

"Did you already order without me?"

Tears were already welling up in the corners of your eyes before you could muster efforts to contain the pain in your heart. The warmth of the liquid reminds you how pathetic you'd seem if you cried in front of him.

You couldn't show weakness.

"Hey, Jungkook. I see you're late... As usual." You commented and saw your children leave their seats to hug his waist and hug him. That damn tiny waist.

"Don't be so mean, my angel. You know I'd never be late on purpose."

His sarcastic smile caused a frown on your face. He was such an arrogant bitch.

Jungkook whispered something to Ivy and Oliver, who nodded with their little heads and hurried to the snack bar background where you knew there were some small tables with blank sheets of paper and colored pencils to draw with.

The owners of that place understood how great it was having a space to entertain customers' children. No one liked seeing kids witnessing adult arguments.

"Why'd you ask me to bring them if you just sent them to drawing?"

"I just miss my children, (Y/N). They're mine too, you forget?"

He didn't say it with a rude tone but a guilt feeling hit you instantly. Even though you knew he wasn't blaming you for those trip days, you were aware that Jungkook would miss the twins a lot and yet you refused to let them being at his house.

"How were the days in London? Business trips are usually quite tiring and I-" You cut off him when he sat across from you. Was he beating around the bush?

"What the hell, Jungkook? You call me here to talk about my work at my dad's company or talk about your fucking wedding?"

It was his turn to rolling eyes and wrinkling his nose while he noticed your impatience. You looked like a cartoon character with your flushed face, furrowed forehead and lips being bitten to avoid more shouting.

If he tried a bit harder certainly he'd glimpse flames coming out of your body. Really like a common facial expression in comics cartoons.

"Wow! Looks like you aren't happy for me."

"And how could I be?" You chuckled with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He couldn't be serious. He'd be cruel as hell. "Why are you marrying Jihyo?"

"Cuz I'm in love with her." Jungkook shrugged as if that were the most obvious answer in the whole world.

For the hundredth time since the wedding invitation papers landed in your hands, you rolled your eyes and felt the urge to grab him by the neck until he dropped dead.

"You didn't look so badly in love with her like that when you were eating me out before my trip just like a dumb needy virgin." You took the initiative to curl your lips into a mocking smile and Jungkook widened his eyes on your sharp words.

"Don't say that." He warned you with a sound coming out much rougher than you anticipated.

Instead of containing the venom dripping through your teeth, you continued the session of criticizing the character of the man in front of you.

"Actually, you didn't look to love her in any of so many nights we've fucking these last three years. But I think you loved moaning my name when I was creaming around your cock and also when you cumshot in my face. And maybe when-"

Your mind stopped processing any more humiliations when Jungkook punched the table and all the decorations placed there rattled, just like the instantaneous movement of your body.

It'd been a single punch. Very quick. But you couldn't help but feel scared in Jungkook's presence for the first time in all those years of going back and forth.

The silence between you two lasted for just three minutes although a discomfort in your chest felt like it hung there for almost an eternity. Slowly you looked at him; his trembling lips and eyebrows frowned. Almost like he was about to cry.

Anything about that sounded impossible to you. Jeon Jungkook never cried easily. Why was he so broken?

"Jihyo's pregnant…" The news came along with a few tears in the corners of his shining eyes.

You definitely weren't expecting this. He knew you weren't because whilst you were trying to come up with something to say Jungkook was faster and cut off anything you could think of.

"Taehyung found her a few days ago at the mall while he was there with Ivy and Oliver. She was buying baby clothes and he saw her briefly."

"It was the day he told me that you asked him to see the kids at your house before the agreed-upon time." You said more like thinking out loud. Jungkook nodded in agreement.

"He got really confused so he came to my house and wanted to confront me. I left the kids playing in their room and sat with him in the kitchen." Jungkook fiddled with his own hands studying the collection of tattoos on his skin with as much interest as he had when he got it. "I told him that I knew about it a few days before. Tell him about the wedding wasn't in my plans but he noticed my engagement ring."

There was so much to ask and so little courage to do it. Your mind was boiling with desperation and your heart felt shattered into pieces.

Goddamn fucking fate!

"How many weeks of pregnancy is she?" You allowed yourself to ask, not interested in more minutes of painful silence..

"Sixteen," Jungkook replied. Sixteen weeks! Four damn months! "It's a little girl. She'll be named Liz."

You clenched your teeth remembering the reason behind the choice of her name.

"Before our breakup you used to say your dream was having a daughter named Liz." You reminded him and he swallowed hard realizing that memory remained fresh in your mind even the years that passed.

"Yeah… But when you were pregnant it was you who chose the name Ivy, so I thought-" Jungkook stopped talking and widened his eyes noticing what he'd just said. "But I love our daughter's name! It's so beautiful!"

You almost wanna laugh remembering how upset he was when saw your pregnancy belly and found out that you hid the pregnancy from him. Annoyance for your secret turned to happiness after a few minutes of civil conversation. And it turned into shock when you told him it wasn't a common pregnancy but a twins pregnancy. He went back to being happy when you told him about the babies' genders and he went back to being upset when heard you say that you'd already decided the babies' names on your own.

And the little girl wasn't named Liz as he always dreamed.

“Well, you know… maybe if I'd chosen the name Liz instead of Ivy you might have changed your mind about us and our relationship."

It wasn't true. You loved your daughter's name and could never imagine it any other way. You were just hating the perks in Jihyo's life and the fake "perfect love" she swore existed between both of them.

"My angel… you know you were already engaged to Taehyung. He's… He was my best friend. I couldn't act that way. I couldn't go against your families' desire to see you two get married."

"It was just for the company's sake, Jungkook! Just for the reputation of Taehyung's family and mine!" You fumed and clenching fists before running the fingers through your head, where you tugged a few hair strands overly desperate.

"I don't give a fuck about that bullshit! It's because Taehyung loves you! HE ALWAYS LOVED YOU!"

If you and Jungkook weren't such frequent customers in that establishment, surely the owners of the place would tell you two to leave the instant Jungkook punched the table for the second time.

Though Ivy and Oliver remained quiet drawing in the other room, you knew your children well enough to know they were covering their ears when they both saw their dad so furious with you.

For that one reason you stared at Jungkook. Eye to eye. Tears to tears.

The resentment was high. However, it wasn't strong enough for your pride worthed more than your children's mental health. Jungkook looked like he shared the same thought and tried to normalize his breathing and clear his mind. He adjusted himself in the chair until his posture was more relaxed.

"Love you, my angel. I swear I love you with all my soul and I think that my love for you can never go away." Jungkook looked like he was about to break. "But it's not fair."

His voice came in trembling whispers and his eyes were teary as you've never seen it. "It's not fair to Taehyung, it's not fair to Jihyo, or our twins, or Liz. Much less to us. Me and you. We don't deserve to live like this."

Deep down, you knew it was true. And that hurt more than if you were lied to.

"So are we done again?"

You never really started over. Everything should've ended after the casual fuck when you found out your father wanted you and his business partner's son to get married.

Jungkook swore to himself that he was happy as a single man and you swore to yourself that Taehyung would be an excellent husband and dad, even if you didn't love him.

But then when Jungkook got back from his exchange in Canada everything snowballed. He found out about your pregnancy and the fact the child was the result of the drunken reunion you two had a few months after the breakup.

As if everything couldn't be more desperate, you were actually gonna marry his best friend the next quarter.

Taking on responsible fatherhood and coparenting was all he promised to you. The whole coexistence between you two should be only for the twins.

Of course it didn't go as planned. He was angry seeing you in a fake marriage with Taehyung, who still laid with you every night despite loving you with all his heart and not being reciprocated.

His self-control lasted just for three years until the desire to feel you again took over, and after Ivy and Oliver's third birthday party you two fucked for the first time since the night that reconnected your lives.

Jungkook knew you confessed the first cheating to your husband and he also knew that he could ask for a divorce. However, Taehyung loved you enough to remain a second option and only get out of your life if your true love asked you to come back.

But Jungkook never did it. Because of the fear of spoiling your life. Because of the fear of hurting Taehyung's heart. Because of the fear of being a bad example for your children.

The affair between you has never ceased during the last three years. Not even when he forced himself into a relationship with Jihyo to try getting over you.

He wasn't proud of it. Deep down, you weren't either.

And Jungkook couldn't allow himself to fail one more time.

"You were never mine to lose.“ It's the confirmation you needed. It was over. You and Jungkook were done.

On that August 31st you knew Jungkook was no longer the target of your anger. It was yourself.

And you would never forgive yourself for getting twisted in bedsheets of someone that were never yours.

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lgbtlunaverse · 10 months

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It's not that NMJ doesn't understand what going undercover means.

I think what some people get wrong about the nieyao conflict specifically in regards to the wen spy thing is that they assume nie mingjue doesn't believe in or understand that someone can do a morally wrong thing because it's in the interest of the greater good. And while I totally get why that's the conclusion people come to, because "it was wrong but necessary" is the key to SO many of Meng Yao's actions and Mingjue's refusal to accept that as a justification is at the heart of the nieyao conflict. But I... don't think it's that he doesn't understand or accept that it can be necessary to do something wrong. I think he knows that very well. It's just that he thinks that, even if it was necessary, you still have to face the consequences of that wrong action.

He, in fact, shows just that, and that he still applies that rule to himself, in the very chapter this conflict stands central.

Yes yes Evi talks about the "very well I'll kill myself after I kill you" quote, must be a day ending in y. Anyway. What nie mingjue is saying here is that he will do something wrong (killing meng yao, which is wrong becuase meng yao saved his life and he owes him a life debt) but which he considers to be necessary (Meng yao killed his men and worked for wen ruohan, which makes him a danger to the cultivation world) but that doesn't make the act less wrong and he must still face the consequences (since he owes him a life debt, that's death) hence: murder-suicide.

This also explains why, when he is eventually told meng yao was spying, he no longer wants to kill meng yao, but still doesn't trust him. If meng yao was a spy, he's not dangerous to other people, and killing him isn't necessary (he will be moved back into the "necessary" category in a few years time, but for now he's not) but he doesn't forgive him. Because on some level he still believes that, even if meng yao was doing it for a greater good, he still shouldn't fully escape the consequences of killing so many people for wen ruohan. It was still wrong.

It's not a personal philosophy I agree with, but I do think it's important to understand the nuanced difference between "you can never do something wrong for the greater good/ because you had no other choice" and "you can do something wrong for the greater good, and in fact it might be your moral obligation to, but this does not exempt you of consequences" because assuming the former might lead you to believe that Nie mingjue thinks all of his own actions (or ones he plans or tries to take) are right. When in fact, Nie Mingjue is quite willing to do the "wrong" thing if it's necessary, he just thinks those actions should be owned up to.

Its part of my larger read of his character as someone who is not so much taken with righteousness (like his reputation says) as he is with balance. With things being owned up to and paid back. Which is, I think, an important distinction to make.

If you have read my other post specifically about how I think meng yao very much considers his own actions to be wrong and finds himself to be morally accountable but doesn't think he should be punished for them, and think "hey wow it sounds like those are diametrically opposed worldviews on the nature of punishment" then congratulations! you win!!

#this comes in play with his condemnation of the wen siblings too #which i think should illustrate even to those who do not like jgy why this attitude can be harmful #mdzs #mdzs meta #meta #nie mingjue #and oh sure i'll tag a-yao too #jin guangyao #meng yao #any post i make about either of them is always gonna be at least a little bit about the other one

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its-chelisey-stuff · 2 months

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everybody's favorite scene was the ending (and I mean, what a cliffhanger!! is it saturday yet???) but my heart stayed here and some of my tears Also, the way he looks at her this whole scene aaaaaaahhhhh I'm melting!

so many what-ifs, so much things left unsaid over the years, misunderstandings piling up, so much resentment! ouch! it just hurts so much but at least they're finally having this conversation and hey, better late than never.

I love their opinions on what has happened, because it highlights their insecurities and biggest regrets. HyunWoo wishes he would have done better in their marriage, knows he's at fault. While HaeIn wishes they never married, so they could've prevented all the pain both of them went through, especially HyunWoo. He doesn't want to hear it, because for him there's only been one woman. And for her, there's only been one man, too. But now she knows how alone and miserable he felt fo so long, he wanted to divorce her.

I have come to appreciate and love Hyunwoo a lot more than I did at the beginning. It was easy for me to hate him right away because of the way he conducted himself and the things he did. But the guy was on autopilot, survival mode and just like he said, he'd forgotten what was important. Dislike, resentment and indifference took over.

!!!!! So obsessed by how this implies he would've been still thinking of her, even if they broke up, always wondering about the what-if. He believes she wouldn't have done the same (and this is clearly her fault lol my queen is not without flaws) but it wouldn't have been like that at all. She was as obsessed, and we know she still believed (or wanted to) in the strenght of her marriage even when it was already crumbling down. *Sighs* They're just so stupid.

I look at this man that we have now on ep 10, and realize just how much he's changed back to the man who married HaeIn, completely in love. The man who chased her, confessed to her and promised to take care of her and her family if it was necessary (oh dear, I never thought that'd be a foreshadowing) and even after divorcing, he stays true to his word.

Aaaaah it's just so sad, and so regretful, but they both were such idiots about it. So childish too, in a way. I get that they were angry and dealing with loss (btw the miscarriage started this, but then little by little misunderstandings started piling up... it was death by a thousand cuts) but they should have fought harder for their marriage. Fight for each other, even while upset. Hate is not the opposite of love, it's indiference.

Despite everything, Hyunwoo took the Hong family to his hometown and gave them shelter, food and a place to sleep. Warmth. The very warmth he didn't get to experience in three years of marriage, living with them. But it doesn't matter, because while I know he is doing this for HaeIn, it's also for them. He sees them as family. And I mean, to be fair, they also gave him a job with a big salary, a big house, expensive getaways with the family and they trusted him with a LOT of legal shit. Not to mention, the italian suits and the Mercedez Benz lol

In times like this, I really really hate her terminal illness and find it so unncessary lol Because they can take back Queens, put EunSeong behind bars and his crazy mother or whatever. They can still fix their relationship. But if her time is indeed running out, it makes all the more tragic all that time they lost. And it would be horrible if at the end, HaeIn dies. So unfair, as well. Because then, what was all this for?

#queen of tears #kdrama #kim soo hyun #kim jiwon

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welcomehomediscordserver · 1 year

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(joking) CW: AGGRESSIVE SUPPORT AND LOVE FOR CLOWN FROM THE MOD TEAM AND MEMBERS OVER AT OUR DISCORD SERVER !!

I have found joy in your little show that I rarely find in things. The overwhelming love and care I have not just for these specific characters but for your art and talent as a whole is astounding. I want you to know that your community, the good parts of it, support you in any endeavor you choose to take. Although this project may have blasted your popularity you are 3-dimensional, you are much more than the creator of welcome home. You are a multi-medial, skilled, talented, and strong artistic being. Throughout all of this I have had nothing but the utmost respect for you. I will continue to no matter what. Just know we over at The Welcome Home discord server have been following your art closely and appreciating every detail! Do what is best for you clown, and continue to do so! -Reggie

It's been a while since something has grabbed me like this... Welcome Home is one of the most precious things I have ever seen, the creation has and will it always have a place in my heart. Thank You creator for sharing this piece of you heart with us. But your safety is more important, I hope that you'll be safe. -Jax

"dear clown, from the heart of one fan to many others, i find so much comfort in your project that i hope that even when things just like now are awful, you know that there's people simultaneously supporting you in every step of the way! We can wait however long you believe is necessary, you deserve to feel respected with your own passion project! And with that to a close, i wish you well! Thank you for giving us a grand welcome home!" -gremints

dear clown, you don't know me. i don't know you either. but everything you've been working on? it's changed my life. and i know that sounds cliche and silly, but it's true. you've inspired me to keep working on my own passion projects, to keep going. because of you, i have found a little community to call home. because of you, i have rekindled my love of silliness and color and creativity. i cannot thank you enough. without you, i would not have found the friends i have now. whatever you do, i want you to know that we're here to support it. and i hope that wherever you go, you also find home. - moth

Hi you dont know me but im Bug, one of the mods^^, I just want to start my message with this, Before I found welcome home, everything for me was going downhill, I had lost so much that was important to me in less than 2 weeks, I couldn't get out of bed and I wasn't doing my favorite things anymore. I couldn't even smile, My eyes were tired and heavy from crying. But thanks to you, Clown. Wonderful you..and your beautiful vibrant creation. With characters I saw and adored right away. I've smiled, danced, sang my favorite songs again, met new and amazing friends & began to draw again. I felt happiness faster than I thought I would again. A peace from your life helped heal some of mine and I'm grateful. Your creations bring me and so many others joy, But even then it as not as important as you. Yes It brings many smiles to people and i hope that doesn't sound to overwhelming.. But although we can't fix the issue people have caused you, we can't apologize for those who don't respect the boundaries you've set and we can't take back what others have done we want you to know that no matter what, the good of the community will always Have what's best for you in mind, in our server we make sure all rules are followed and you're privacy and mental health is respected. Take as much time as you need to take it all in, relax, do what's best for clown. 💚 take care of yourself before aything else. We thank you for all you've done already. -Boogerbug

EVERYTHING BELOW WAS SUBMITTED BY MEMBERS !!

Hi Clown! Just another rando passing through! While I have known about your artwork for a few years now, I never dove into it until Welcome Home became popular, and I genuinely love the vision you have. Your other artwork is also phenominal and genuinely inspires me, and it always has, even before I discovered the Welcome Home website. Your character designs are impeccable, the way you portray the muppets is genuinely awesome and brings back a lot of good memories, as I grew up watching puppet shows. Explains one reason I enjoy your work doesn't it?Despite making godly artwork, people forget that you are a human like the rest of us. Most people who become famous or popular because of something they have done experience this and it is unfortunate, but there are some of us that know you have a life and are already struggling. Take the time you need to rejuvinate yourself and try not to let these people get to you, as hard as it is to do, as even I still struggle with this daily. These are your creations, and you deserve to have control over what happens with them, and the disrespect this slowly growing fanbase has for your requests is terrible. Hoping that things eventually improve on your end, especially since you already aren't in a safe environment, something I also understand. I've already planned on throwing some bucks at you through Ko-Fi once I open my new bank account, and even if I cant, I still want to help prove that you are worthy and deserve better than this. You are incredibly talented and I hope to see Welcome Home and all of your other works of art flourish over time! - Sunnie/Mizo

Now onto the big reveal....

Our server members as well as a few mods all banded to together to create a collage showing our appreciation and support for Clown during these rough times. I hope this can serve as a reminder that despite the shitty people out there, there is a large community who still very much respects and enjoys every aspect of Clowns artwork.

An art collage put together by the moderators with art submitted by members.

Below are more signages as well as the usernames of everyone who participated:

Micah

Maximus

Beans

Wynn

Avery

Global

Vinnzhe

- and lastly, the rest of the welcome home discord server 🩷

@partycoffin

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holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

When we were kids

Summary: It’s his turn to wait.

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Fratboy!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: angst, language, unrequited feelings, best friends to enemies, jealousy, hopeful ending

A/N: This sequel got inspired by another song from Walking on Cars “When We Were Kids”. Lyrics in Italics taken from the song.

A/N: So, I decided to give this story a sequel. It's necessary to read the first part to understand the story.

<< Part 1 - Waiting on the corner

Yeah, it was better back when we were kids Thought we knew everything, we really did Had no money but so rich Nobody cared about what we did Another fight and another kiss But now it's water under the bridge

Bucky watches you walk away from him with your head held high. You don’t turn around, even though, it takes anything in you to not give in and look over your shoulder.

It took you years to get to this point. Years of yearning, crying, and wailing with pain. The pain Bucky caused because some girl he barely knew, and didn’t even love, was more important.

His shoulders sag, and he sighs deeply. What did he expect to happen? Did he honestly believe you’d forgive him so easily after you left town because of him?

He thinks of better times. Times in which you looked up at him like he was your whole world.

But I still call out for you Yeah, I still call out for you

Ten years ago, months before Bucky met Dot, …

“Doll, it’s spaghetti Friday,” Bucky mutters as you run through the living room, a bunch of noodles in your hands. He’s chasing after you, calling your name.

You giggle and speed up when he gets closer. Dashing toward the middle of the room you almost run Steve over.

“Whoa, watch out, Y/N,” Steve jumps out of your way. “What has gotten into you two!” He yells as Bucky throws a handful of spaghetti your way only to hit Steve right in the face. The pasta drops on his shirt, and he sighs. “What the fuck, Buck!”

“We are having spaghetti Friday,” Bucky says, expecting Steve to understand what he means. The blonde frowns. Bucky and you always come up with crazy new rituals and Steve can’t keep up with all the shit the two of you pull all the time. “Y/N started a fight! She wanted to have farfalle, Steve. Farfalle for spaghetti Friday. That’s a sacrilege, my friend.”

“They look pretty on a plate, Buck. I wanted my plate to look pretty, and they were cheap,” you pout. “Why not try something new?”

“I want spaghetti. They look manly.” Bucky says, making you snort as he defends the spaghetti.

“Yeah. Because they remind you of your dick,” you sass back. With your hands on your hips, you give Bucky the stinky eyes. “You wanna eat dick.”

He chuckles, but his heart flutters as you step closer to put the spaghetti in his hands. “My dick is much thicker, doll. I can prove it.”

“Just tell this to yourself, Buck,” you gently pat his cheek. He hums and drops his eyes to your lips. If only he found the guts to finally tell you how he feels about you. “Now, Steve will decide which noodles we’ll eat. You hit him with pasta after all.”

“Keep me out of your crazy fights,” Steve grunts. He looks down at his brand-new shirt, decorated with spaghetti. I got a hot date, and you just ruined my shirt. Now I gotta change before I pick her up.”

“Sharon again?” You turn your attention toward Steve, making Bucky pout. “So, are you in love Steven Grant Rogers? Is she the one? Can you imagine marrying her?”

Steve’s cheeks turn pink. He clears his throat and tries to not give away he has a huge crush on Sharon. Maybe it’s even more than a crush this time.

“Wrap it before you tap it, Stevie.” You groan at Bucky’s words. “Do you need condoms? I got a whole drawer full of…”

You snap your head toward Bucky to glare at him. “We got it Bucky. You have a lot of condoms because you fuck every girl with a pulse. Stop dragging Steve into your shit. He’s a good guy. Sharon deserves a good guy. We all do.”

Bucky watches you sigh deeply because so far, you didn’t get lucky finding a good guy. And the one you could fall in love with asks every girl out but you.

“Uh-first base,” Steve mumbles. “Sharon wants to take things slow. I’ll wait.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” you hug Steve. “I knew you’re a good guy.”

“HEY! I’m a good guy too,” Bucky grunts. He had hoped you’d see more in him than a promiscuous frat boy one day. Now he knows better. Maybe he should give in to Dot’s advances and go on a date with her…

Ooh, tell me what I'm gonna do now 'Cause I feel a little lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me out Tell me what I'm gonna do now Because I realize now I need you I'd do anything now to see you

Now, …

Hear me, hear me I still call out for you Yeah, I still call out for you

Bucky walks back into the gymnasium, avoiding everyone but Natasha. He goes straight to her to ask her if she knows where you went to.

“Nat, hey. Do you know Y/N’s hotel?” He asks, hoping to see you again tonight. “Natasha?”

Natasha is tangled in Clint’s arms. She dips her head to glance at Bucky, frowning deeply. “How shall I know? She said something about leaving to clear her mind. I think she left.”

“Where to?” Bucky groans. “I need to know.”

“Ask Wanda, they talked before Y/N left. I was kinda busy with…”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I got that you were busy sucking the life out of Barton’s tongue.” He looks around the room to find Wanda.

“Who asked you?” Natasha mutters. “Get out of my sight.”

Another consequence, another day And now I'm caught up in a rat race Yeah, no money, just got picked You take me back to when I was free You take me back to a memory To the water under the bridge

Walking around the room Bucky despairs. Wanda is nowhere to be found, you are gone, and Natasha was no help.

What did you say? You want to meet him at your special place. “But when?” He asks himself. “I can’t wait there for hours…”

“Here,” Wanda appears out of nowhere. She hands Bucky a piece of paper. “Y/N told me to give you this.” She sizes Bucky up. “If you hurt her, I’ll castrate you. Don’t believe for one moment I won’t find you, Barnes.”

He takes the piece of paper, feeling his heart speed up once again. Just like it did the moment he laid eyes on you tonight.

Bucky leaves Wanda, and the party behind. He almost runs out of the building and toward his parked car to read your message to him in silence.

After unlocking the car, he jumps into the driver’s seat and unfolds the letter.

“Our special place. Tomorrow. At eight.”

“At eight…” he furrows his brows. “In the morning or evening.” Bucky groans because he’s got no clue if you want to have breakfast or dinner with him. “Doll…you always have been bad with time.”

Almost ten years ago, months before he met Dot, …

“Christ on a cracker, Y/N!” Bucky throws his hands up as you finally walk inside the apartment you share with your grumpy roommate. “Where have you been all day?”

“What?” You didn’t even make it inside the living room before Bucky started to look you all over. “Hey. What’s wrong with you?”

“Yesterday you said that you’ll be back at ten!” He argues and points at the watch on the wall. “It’s fucking ten p.m., Y/N!”

“Yeah, I know. I told you that I’ll be back at that time!”

“You said ten and I believed you mean in the morning,” Bucky releases a shuddery breath. “I was about to call the cops, doll! Never scare me like that again.”

“Oh-I forgot to write a.m. again,” you giggle, but your laughter dies when you watch Bucky. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Buck. I thought you knew I meant ten p.m.”

“I did not and was worried sick! Plus, you forgot your damn phone again! If you leave the apartment, tell me where you are going and when you will be back. And use a.m. and p.m. from now on!”

“Buck,” you wrap Bucky in a hug. “Love you too big grump.” He grins when you hold him tightly. “How can I make things up to you?”

“I’ll decide which movie we will watch tonight.” You’re tired and want to sleep for a week, but Bucky was worried about you. You will stay awake as long as possible and watch a movie with him.

“Deal.”

Half an hour later you are asleep in Bucky’s lap. He runs his hand over your hair, gently patting your head. “Never scare me like that again, doll…”

Now, Bucky’s car…

“Fine. I’ll be there at eight a.m., doll, and wait for you…”

The next morning, your special place, …

I still call out for you Oh, I still call out for you Hear me, hear me I still call out for you 'Cause I feel a little lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me It was better back when we were kids

No money, so rich Take me back to a memory To the water under the bridge

Bucky shuffles from one foot to the other. He came here, on time. It’s past ten a.m., and you still haven’t shown up. “Fuck…maybe I got it wrong, and she wanted me to meet her at eight p.m.?”

He gets the piece of paper back out, rereading the few lines you wrote.

Bucky sighs. What if he didn’t get it wrong? What if you won’t show?

“Still waiting, huh?” Steve steps out of his hideout to tease his friend. “Do you think she will show?”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky panics. Last time you were in his shoes and Steve showed up to tell you Bucky won’t come to meet up with you.

“Uh-getting me some coffee,” Steve lies. He and Sharon wanted to find out if you will give his best friend a second chance. The first thing Bucky did was to call Steve and tell him what happened.

“She won’t show, I guess.” Bucky sits down on the sidewalk. He looks at his hands, sighing deeply. “I deserve this, right? I fucked up big time back then. I should’ve told Y/N that I love her. I didn’t even like Dot. She was the worst.”

“How much did you love her?” Steve asks. “Bucky, be honest with me.”

“So much that I forgot to eat and couldn’t sleep when she went on a date. I panicked any time she was running late. One time she was holding my hand while we were watching a slasher movie. I imagined this is how it feels when walk down the aisle together.”

“Hmmm…” you sit down next to Bucky, nodding at Steve as he looks down at you and his friend. “I bet you did dirty things in the showers too, imagining it’s me rubbing your spaghetti dick.”

“Stop with the spaghetti dick! I told you it’s thicker,” Bucky argues. “And farfalle don't count as pasta. It’s…too pretty.”

“That’s the whole point,” you talk back. “They look pretty, and you eat them to feel pretty inside too.”

Bucky snorts at that. “You’re late…like two hours late. Do you even know how to read a watch?”

You shrug. “I thought you should wait a little longer. I waited for much longer, only for you to not show. Now you will buy me breakfast and tea. They still make the best in town. So, I heard.”

Bucky slowly gets up, holding out his hand for you.

He doesn’t know where you go from here. But you showed, and he will be damned if he doesn’t take the chance and tries to win your heart over again…

I still call out for you Oh, I still call out for you Hear me, hear me I still call out for you 'Cause I'm a little bit lost without you I'm a little bit lost without you Hear me, hear me

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #college au #fratboy!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #When we were kids

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mymainwastoocluttered · 2 years

Text

Healing Kissy (Sebek, Azul)

"My head hurts, can you kiss my forehead so it'll stop?"

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

My head is trying to explode, comfort me, fictional men

— (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

— Sebek Zigvolt

“WHAT?!”

Sebek shuts his mouth with a loud noise at the full body wince from the Prefect that meets his exclamation. He apologizes in a softer voice, both to not aggravate her headache more and to keep with her request to not be too loud inside closed rooms. She accepts his apologies easily, as she tends to do despite his best efforts to teach her to be more assertive, and smiles at him. Usually, her smile would make his heart jump inside his chest, but right now it can only squeeze in worry at the tiredness behind the gesture.

Human beings are just so weak.

So ephemeral.

So… precious.

“Very well, since you’re sick and in pain, I shall help you however necessary.”

Sebek’s kiss is somehow determined like only him can be. It’s firm and it’s sure and so, so comforting.

If “the power of believing” was a legit magic source, Sebek would cure you with that kiss alone. He knows it is most likely just a human superstition, but part of him can’t help but hope it’ll at least alleviate some of your pain.

Will definitely kiss your forehead again if you ask.

Actually, he might offer a kiss even if you don’t complain about headaches. You should accept all of them, not only you’re getting free kisses, but Sebek lightens up with the prospect of helping his second favorite person.

At some point he might get so used to it that he starts just randomly kissing your forehead. Will explain it as “dutifully preventing future headaches”, and that is actually part of the truth. The other part is that he likes kissing your forehead

Kiss his forehead back, he’ll blush so hard but also boast about “being protected against all head ailments”. Will not accept forehead kisses from anyone else other than his mom, Lilia and Malleus (though the last one is not interested).

— (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

— Azul Ashengrotto

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sick, my head hurts. Can you give me a forehead kiss? It’ll make it feel better.”

That is scientifically impossible, Prefect. Healing kisses are not, in fact, a thing. Unless there’s someone with a unique magic that heals people through kisses. That would be an interesting employee to have, in case of emergencies—wait, he’s not supposed to think about that right now. No, right now Azul has something more important to care about: his girlfriend’s wellbeing.

“Very well, for a price, anything can be done.”

“Zuzu, I’m sick. Can’t I get a free kiss just this time?”

“... that can be arranged.”

Literally so soft? Like, this man’s lips are so, so soft and plump? Sir, where are you going with those lips? Who are you kissing?

Well, you. He’s kissing your forehead, and it’s the softest, most gentle kiss you’ve ever gotten. You might get addicted.

Azul is incredibly embarrassed, but he can’t find it in himself to deny a request from you.

Because he’s embarrassed, he’ll only show affection beyond hand holding behind closed doors. Also, he happens to have two eels that love to tease him far too much. So don’t expect kisses to happen a lot.

But he’ll surely give them when you’re alone in a room. There’s no deal and not even need for a reason, he’ll kiss your forehead as soon as he has your ok.

Kiss his forehead back and he might spit some ink. He’s blushing so hard and his hearts are on overdrive. But he wants more. Give him more kisses, please. He loves them.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

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kkongdakz · 4 months

Text

“ I SEA YOU. ” ft. kim gyuvin

gyuvin x gn!reader, genre : fluff & comfort, warnings : mention of anxiety and overwhelming feelings, wc : 2,3k>

author's note : this is a really, very, truly personal fic, so i'm sorry if you don't recognize or identify with y/n.. but still, i hope you'll like it anyway 😙👍🏻 also, could this be my official comeback? ..who knows..

ever since you were little, you've always considered the sea your comfort zone, your escape. the sound of the waves and the feel of salt water on your skin had a way of dissipating all your worries, help you avoid drowning under pressure and stress. you've long believed that nothing else in the world could give you a similar sensation — not even the hottest summer sun, not even the most beautiful spring blossom tree, not even the tastiest winter hot chocolate, not even the reddest leaf on an autumn tree. nothing could compare to the comfort of the sea in your heart.

that's why you've continued to visit this beach, which means so much to you, every week. this little beach, almost always deserted, where the clear horizon offers you all the splendour of the sky living side by side with the ocean. the palette of blue inked in your memory is enough to soothe you on rainy evenings, but you need the sound of the ocean coming out of a giant shell to soothe your mind. and even if you have to travel miles from your student apartment to get to what makes you so happy, you'll do it without hesitation. but no longer alone.

on the long river of your quiet life, a little boat named kim gyuvin decided to follow a stream to reach the blue ocean of your heart. it was no mean feat — even if you have to admit that the sincerity of his smile made you sink delicately to the bottom of the well of love. he crossed your path by chance, and kept crossing it. again and again. until you accept him on your raft. he hadn't been that insistent, but what really wins you over is feeling that gentle warmth in your heart every time he looks at you with all the goodness in the world in the corner of his eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful smile on the planet. the same warmth you get from watching a sunset reflected on the ocean's blue expanse.

« shall we go? » you suddenly heard, in a voice as gentle as a summer breeze, bringing you out of your deepest thoughts. turning your head to the right, your absent gaze fell on gyuvin's peaceful face, you smiled tenderly, gently grabbing the hand he was holding out to you to get up and follow him out the door.

the trip to the beach didn't seem as long as it used to be, now that a warm hand was keeping yours company. you no longer had to show him the way, as he now knew the route by heart — even better than you. but today, something seemed to have changed inside your heart. maybe it was because of the way his freshly dyed black hair swept across his forehead in the same way that grains of sand move across the beach in the wind. maybe it was the way numerous shivers ran through your body every time his shoulder brushed yours, like when cold sea water touches your feet on autumn mornings. maybe it was simply the beauty of his face that easily equalled the beauty of a sunset shining on the surface of the ocean.

a ton of maybe trotted through your mind as you struggled to stay focused on the road, far too busy watching the slightest feature of gyuvin's face. even his profile was perfect. unconsciously tightening the grip of your hand around his, gyuvin turns his soft gaze on your face, his pretty brown eyes instantly locked in yours. he was surprisingly so calm — usually, he couldn't help being an overexcited puppy, and you liked that about him. he contrasted with your far too calm personality — he was like the tsunami of your life, shaking up your habits for the better, of course.

but gyuvin knew that these seaside escapades were important for you, that they were necessary for the proper functioning of your mind, they were made to soothe you. so he knew how to stand still and give you the chance to recharge your batteries in peace, even though he had to admit that having the privilege of accompanying you was the greatest accomplishment of all.

let's go back up the creek into the reverse river, to revisit the first time gyuvin's curious eyes landed on your hair floating in the ocean breeze. he must have been in his fifties, where adolescence made him want to escape far away from everything. it was an afternoon when the late summer wind kept reminding him that school was just around the corner, after running aimlessly for an hour, his footsteps led him to this hidden, deserted small beach, where only the sound of the waves crashing on the sand disturbed the tranquillity of the place. it was so beautiful, so pleasant — he felt as if he were floating, his mind carried away by the waves. and that's when he saw you, like a dream. as pretty as a mermaid, your soft face so serene.. he was so jealous of you. you were approaching the serenity he so desperately sought, and it upset him. but that didn't stop him from continuing to look at you with curious doe eyes, as if you weren't capable of feeling a insistent gaze burn your skin. he suspected you must be around his age, because of your youthful facial features glistening in the sunlight. as he watched you without saying a word, without moving an inch, his heart fluttering with lightness at the mere sight of your devastating but peaceful smile. you seemed so far out in the ocean — that intrigued him and led him to appreciate a little more the benefits of the sea. you intrigued him.

so.. to say that he approached you by pure coincidence would be a lie, because when he recognized you, wandering the halls of his high school, he wondered why he'd never noticed you before. with hindsight and a bit of imagination, it was probably because your mind was always stuck in the middle of the ocean and no boat had ever managed to reach your soul — until he decided he was going to make it, even if he had to swim for it. which he did, with flying colors.

« you're okay? » he asked, softly, in a voice that sounded like a siren call to your ears. falling for kim gyuvin was, once upon a time, something inconceivable for you. your head was too much in the clouds, your mind too much in your dreams, and your heart far too rambunctious to consider loving anyone other than the ocean. but he managed to get you to change tack — him and his beautiful sun-kissed brown eyes. shaking your head negatively with a barely visible smile that only he could see, you finally looked away to the horizon, where the entrance to the beach wasn't far off. « we're here. » you announced, tugging a little more firmly on his hand to guide his steps, despite the fact that he knew this road by heart, having travelled it with you so many times.

as you carefully descended the stairs to the beach, the fresh ocean breeze was already tickling your fragile skin. gyuvin was careful not to let go of your hand to prevent you from falling, but this impulse of benevolence caused him to miss the moment when you stopped dead in your tracks to observe the landscape in front of you, his body colliding with yours. « oh.. » was the only thing he was able to say when his chest hit your back, and the next second his gaze was unconsciously fixed on your face, which, once again, seemed so tranquil at the mere sight of waves washing up on the sand eternally. a smile tugged at his lips, his free hand slipping to your hip to hold you close, and his heart racing at the simple knowledge that you were perfectly fine right now. « it's pretty, isn't it? » you finally commented, your words mixing with the wind to reach his ears, and gyuvin nodded positively, his loving gaze lost in the ocean of your eyes.

advancing through the sand, taking care to draw him along with you, you didn't give him time to dream about whether you could be his little mermaid, the one who could save from drowning the prince he could have been. the same one you might abandon on the beach, as you did previously with the fifteen-year-old boy who first saw you a few years earlier. gyuvin liked to think your story would be so pretty to tell — he was one hundred percent sure it would be his little sisters' favorite love story, the one that would make them dream by night and hope by day. yeah, gyuvin was convinced that your love story would inspire many.

now sitting next to each other on the warm sand, gyuvin's fingers quietly played with a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger, with his tender, benevolent gaze fixed on you. his heart seemed filled with happiness, because he knew that there, right now, right here, sitting in front of that vast blue sea, your heart was soothed, at the height of the happiness you so preciously cherished. and he was perfectly right : sitting on the sand, you held your knees to your chest, your star-filled eyes exploring the ocean you seemed to know by heart. the beauty of the light reflected on the surface of the water, the waves breaking against the shiny sand of the beach, the sound of the latter disturbing the tranquillity of the place, with only a few people strolling by, each looking happier than the next. not far away, a little girl running with her feet in the water, followed by a little boy who seemed to be laughing out loud as he tried to catch up with her. the sun seemed to embrace their skin with its warmth, under the watchful eyes of their parents who were standing not far from them, a light, benevolent smile decorating their faces.

then, as you watched them tenderly, your thoughts suddenly began to wander, taking you to the back of your mind that never stopped thinking. after careful consideration, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, you didn't have to make weekly trips to the beach. because you'd found another way to feel good and happy when the world seemed to be crashing down on you.

looking away from the blue expanse in front of you, your pupils finally meet those of gyuvin. your boyfriend offers you a pretty smile — light, but filled with all the sincerity in the world, his eyes overflowing with love. in your chest, your heart began to race, furiously, warmly, pleasantly, like the first time you fell in love with the sea. gyuvin's love was as deep as the ocean, his hands as soft as water, his eyes as radiant as the sun reflecting on the surface. he'd come into your life by chance, and had been making you want to drown in his arms ever since. he cracked the shell of your heart and slipped inside and never left. and now, he brings you the same warmth and comfort as an afternoon spent observing the ocean. it was strange, a new feeling for you — in your whole life, no one has ever been able to fill the void inside you, to calm the storm that was sometimes your mind, when, with just one little smile, gyuvin made you forget all the ills of your life, as the sea was so adept at doing it. so maybe now, kim gyuvin was the ocean's main rival in your heart.

hooking your hands around his arm, you drew him gently towards you, feeling a certain shyness rise up in you after having spent long seconds staring at him without saying anything. laying your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek, his hand slips against one of yours, gently caressing your fingers. « i don't think i need to come here so often anymore. » you say suddenly, attracting the attention of the boy at your side, who raises an eyebrow at you. he wasn't used to seeing you refuse a trip to the seaside, especially knowing perfectly well your love for this beach so dear to your heart. so it was only natural for him to ask you why or how you'd come to think such a thing, his little why floating in the air for a moment without any answer escaping your lips.

tightening your grip around his arm, closing your eyes as the ocean breeze hits your face, a perfectly relaxed smile, the most sincere he'd ever seen, took place on your lips. « i found someone better than the ocean. » you replied, so naturally that gyuvin felt the tips of his ears redden furiously. he wasn't stupid — he knew, he understood that silently, and in your own way, you had just confessed to him that he was like the ocean in your heart. and for him, those words were more powerful than a simple i love you.

gyuvin knew that nothing meant more to you than the sound of the waves and the beauty of the ocean's expanse, which you cherished more than anything else. so, the mere thought of him being superior to the sea in your heart could only make him fall even more in love with you than he already was. his rebellious teenage heart of a few years ago was definitely not wrong : you were the mermaid who kept him from drowning. without answering you orally, gyuvin decided to simply close his eyes in turn, resting his head against yours, enjoying your stroll by the sea which managed to open your heart to him.

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