#[ sincerely i rat shake it so much

[pirateborn-a]

once again arguing with my sister about the egg on the oro jackson and rat shaking--

[mar-iiposa]

prompt: the boys find out that their s/o snorts when they laugh

tag(s)/warnings: GN reader, suggestive comments/themes/jokes, vv fluffy

requests: open

authors note at the end for readers!! stay tuned :D

Leonardo:

he’s trimming his bonsai (you know how much he treasures them)

he’s slightly humming “boy’s a liar too

you’re reading a book whilst in the dojo

the dojo is quiet except for the calculated snips

you decided to save the next chapter of your book for later, so you quietly go on your phone

until you see a cute couples date idea on your ‘for you’ page

“hey, leo?”

you didn’t expect your voice to come off as wayy louder than intended

and neither did your boyfriend

the blue-masked ninja jumps at the unexpected noise

so much so that he knocks his bonsai over

his heart stops and he swiftly dove to the floor and scrambled to juggle the plant before finally catching it

he wipes his forehead and breathes a loud sigh of relief

however, you’re laughing your literal ass off

never have you seen him so visibly stressed

you were convinced he was gonna have a heart attack

hunched over and gripping your own sides, you’re hollering

and out comes snorts while you laugh

but as soon as you realize you’re snorting, you put a hand to your mouth

as you blink in embarrassment and security,

leo smiles over at you in adoration

with those criminal cute dimples too

“what was tha-?”

“you heard nothing.”

“babe, I know what I heard.”

you look away in pure embarrassment, heavily avoiding eye contact

“I know it’s weird-“

he’s now visibly confused

like wtf??? wdym ‘weird’??

he thought, if anything, that he’s the weird one

considering he’s a mutant turtle

“how is that gorgeous laugh weird?”

you’re about to respond when you pause

your cheeks grow warm

“what-“

“you heard me.”

and he’s giving you that little coy yet sincere smile of his

“you should laugh like that more often, princess.”

your jaw has dropped

he takes a few steps towards you

and he gently holds your chin, lifting it so that you look up at him

eye contact (l o r d)

“I like that raw beauty.”

you sink into your seat, oh my god

he chuckles softly and pecks your lips with a kiss before walking out of the dojo

you’re stunned.

and why are you turned on-

Raphael:

so we all know raph

and he is the biggest “gym rat”

( no offense to master splinter )

and you guys know those squats that you do with weights???

yeah, well, raph wanted to try those out today

and so he did

but it didn’t go by unnoticed

you were spotting raph (gym term) when mikey passed by

and my god, does mikey always have something to say

right as raph was mid-squat

“nice ass-popping, raph”

you

you LOST IT

in tears laughing

mikey instantly fled from the scene

the look on raphael’s face just made it so much better

and so did it make you laugh much harder

thus, you began to laugh your “real laugh”

snort after snort surrounded your laughter

uncontrollably snort-laughing

“ya got the hiccups there?”

and just as quickly as he mentioned it, you were just as quick to stop it

you stood from your seat and your brows furrowed together

he knew that look

that was when he knew he was screwed

and off you went, grabbing your things and ready to head up go the surface and back home for the night

he strides after you, reaching out for your arm

but you pull it back before he can get the chance

“babe, what’s wro-“

you stop briefly outside of the lair’s entrance, tears pricking at your eyes

you feel the droplets on your lashes, and you can’t look at him

so, he stands in front of you

and his heart stings

“I feel like a pig,” you cough slightly as you begin to cry

raph’s expression instantly softens

“baby… yer speakin’ nonsense.”

he gently takes your hand in his big, rough and calloused one

“everyone always says that when they hear my real laugh.”

your pout quivers as your lips do so, your shoulders shaking slightly as you cry

you move to cover your mouth and half of your face with your other hand as you cry

but he stops you

and he carefully places it on his cheek

and his left hand rests on your cheek too

“raphae-“

“I love ev’rythin’ about ya. sweet cheeks, look at me.”

your gaze flickers to meet his amber eyes

“you could have a million laughs… but this one right here? jesus, that one’s my favorite. now that’s for sure.”

you get on your toes and desperately hug your much-taller boyfriend

now this is one of the reasons he’s the love of your life

“I love you, raphie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Donatello:

that’s it

he’s convinced you are 110% his soulmate

and here he thought that he had the worst and dorkiest laugh

this snort-laugh of yours occurred when donnie had accidentally taken a sip of scorchingly-hot coffee

he was sleep deprived

thus, he forgot how hot coffee could be

directly after pouring it

and you weren’t quick enough to stop him

so you snort laugh, stomping a little as you throw your head back in your chair

he used to hate his own laugh that involved tons of snorting sounds

but now you’ve effortlessly convinced him that it’s the best laugh in the entire universe

“what was that?”

donnie’s got the biggest and most goofiest grin on his face

“I can explain-“

his grin expands

“yeah, huh? give me another demonstration, darling.”

you shake your head in disagreement

just as you open your mouth to further reply, he continues

“oh, I bet I can out-snort you, jellybean.”

a wicked grin plastered on his face

and a mirroring grin begins to grow on yours too

“how much are we talkin’?”

“un-licked poptarts.”

“annddd?”

“annddd I’ll have to be out of the lab for a week.”

woah

this dude was serious

“deal. pleasure doing business with you, an-“

“nuh uh, no stalling. let’s hear it, you first.”

donnie gestured towards you to start off the competition

you give a purposely-snarky little laugh, snorting near the end

your boyfriend gives a nod of approval

“very cute, might be hard to beat.”

then he gives it a go

“such a rookie”

he shoots such a devastatingly-cute yet playful grin over at you

he then cracks his knuckles

“game on.”

and so now this just sparks your competitive side

you two spend the next 15 minutes just going back and forth

and those passing by right outside of the lab are so confused

“what the hell’s going on in there-”

Michelangelo:

thank god he’s a comedian

you’ve giggled countless times around mikey and towards his jokes

he’s a funny one

indefinitely getting giggles and chuckles straight out of you

but your actual laugh???

it had yet to be unleashed

until today

your boyfriend’s trying to show you how to get creative with your art

lately, you’ve been out of the zone

and who better than than the master of creativity himself to help you out of your art block?

so here you are in the sewers, spray painting on the walls

“angelcakes, you’re too stiff! you gotta relax, chillll”

“but I’m trying!”

he moves to stand directly behind you, covering your eyes with the tails of his mask, his hands over them as well

“what’re you doing?”

“just spray with your eyes closed and move, babes.”

you inhale and then exhale

with a few movements here and there, you decide to start off small until you could hopefully gain inspiration from there

instead, all you got was a surprise

“IS THAT A PENIS?”

apparently, you accidentally drew one

mikey yelped, falling to the floor as he banged his fist against it in fits of laughter

he had the humor of a middle-school boy

and so did you

top tier comedy imo

you kneeled down to the floor beside him

clapping your hands, you feel yourself losing control of your body

and that accounts and goes for your laugh too

least expecting it, you begin to snort as you uncontrollably laugh

some squeals in there too as you try to regain your composure

he laughs harder, pointing at you

you nearly feel the insecurity start to seep in

that is until you hear him go “awee!”

and your heart melts

but not as much as his has

“you like my snorting??”

“who wouldn’t?! it’s the cuuutest thing ever, baby!”

you swore that you fell deeper in love with this man

somehow

you both just sit there in those sewers

laughing over an accidental penis drawing

and continuing to laugh like a couple of fools

lovesick fools

author’s note: hello, everyone!! glad to be back! I’ve been on hiatus recently, but I hope to be more active and produce more fanfics and headcanons for you guys :) I am currently open to requests, so please send them my way! and don’t limit yourself, you can send as manyyyy requests as you want!! please leave comments and stuff, they fuel my motivation and validation tbh 🫶 thank you for reading, thrilled to be back!!

[365granitegirlx]

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate. 

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it. 

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly. 

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand. 

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before? 

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt. 

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

~

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly. 

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly. 

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck. 

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate. 

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down. 

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave. 

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention. 

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm. 

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves. 

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm. 

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away. 

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away. 

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out. 

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?” 

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work. 

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side. 

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait. 

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing. 

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you. 

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?” 

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.” 

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him. 

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with. 

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him. 

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.” 

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous. 

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge. 

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really. 

Ves: just wondering about you 

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again. 

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper. 

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond. 

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant. 

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy. 

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care. 

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you? 

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge. 

You: come over  Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat  Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke. 

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut. 

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?” 

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much? 

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.” 

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily. 

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch. 

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…” 

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering. 

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy. 

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him. 

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.” 

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up. 

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple. 

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.” 

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second. 

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.” 

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good. 

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper. 

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high. 

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.” 

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile. 

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh. 

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does. 

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers. 

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you. 

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

[gravehags]

let the devil in

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: OH THEY FUCKIN, PinV, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, improper timing of satanic prayer, lots of ooey gooey feelings, secondo being a real one, stelline the rat makes a brief return, sister imperator being unsettling as shit

Words: 6,803

Summary: You have just about had enough of dancing around one another. It's now or never.

a/n: bro writing this had me shaking THIS IS IT, THE BIG ONE god i hope it lives up to my hype

The remainder of your time off passes without incident - for better and for worse. 

Copia has been lovely - a perfect gentleman - but as much as you appreciate his sweet words and his kind heart, you’re left wondering why he hasn’t made any…advances towards you. When your kisses turn heated he shies away and you don’t pursue the issue, wondering if you’re just coming on too strong. Wondering if he regrets the evening you spent together on New Years Eve. You try not to let it get to you but every night you lie awake, staring up at the ceiling worried that he has regrets. Part of you - the part that sees the sincerity in his eyes when he dotes on you, the logical part - tells you that he’s just being cautious. The other part of you…well. That little parasite is constantly in your ear telling you he’s just being kind - too kind to rip the bandaid off and break it off with you. Back and forth these two sides play tug of war and you’re the one left to suffer in silence. And it’s not just your mind that suffers but your body. Your body aches for him, your fingers frantically pressing against your clit in a poor imitation of the curve of his cock. You crave his touch and are filled with sadness as you watch the bruises his fingers left on your thighs yellow and fade. You want to bring your concerns up to him but the fear that the awful little parasite in you has been right all along keeps your mouth shut. So you let him court you - bring you more flowers (dark red peonies this time, you dried the roses he gave you the moment they began to wilt and now the bundle hangs from your bedroom mirror), hold your hand on your daily walks, eat by your side - and hope that through sheer force of will he seeks out your embrace once more. You’re almost relieved when you start back at work again, able to keep your hands and mind busy with something other than your unsettling thoughts and anxiety-fraught fledgling relationship.

–

Copia feels as if he’s going mad.

Not from you, never from you but…his desire for you. The way his body and his mind relive the feel of your cunt pressed up against him, the heat and wet pushing against his clothed cock. He clenches his fist and shifts in his office chair, the wood creaking beneath him. He’s trying his best - his very best - to be good and sweet and docile for you. To treat you like he wants to, like he knows you deserve. But his want for you is all-consuming, dogging him day and night, in your presence and without it. He wants your body - wants to corrupt your body - true, but more than that he wants…you. Hungers for your soul, your love. Wants to crawl inside your veins and make a home in your heart. He’s told you he loves you, true, but would the extent of it scare you off? He’s torn by wanting to confess the darkest parts of his passion to you and keeping you at a safe distance, like a porcelain doll on a shelf. New Year's Eve left him reeling, dizzy even as he slept beside you that night and you curled into him. You’re so good to him - far better than he deserves - and he can feel the lust radiating off of you whenever your kisses become heated. The devil whispers for him to let go, let you untether that beast inside him that he tries so hard to muzzle. The chain that holds him back weakens day by day, every moment you give him that look from across the couch or the dinner table he’s closer to ruin.

Which leads him to today. 

You’ve popped by his office on your lunch break, standing by the windows and holding his hands in yours. 

“Come over to my place tonight?”

He’s about to answer when there’s a knock on the door and it swings open. When he sees Secondo standing there he drops your hands as if burned and takes a step away from you.

“Mi scusi, I’ve interrupted something,” Secondo turns to leave but Copia calls out.

“No, no. Eh, nothing interrupted. She was just leaving - weren’t you, signorina?”

He immediately regrets his choice of words when he sees you jolt as if slapped at the cold tone of his voice and the return of your old title. Secondo’s sharp gaze flicks back and forth between you and him but he remains silent.

“Y-yeah. Okay. Sorry, Secondo. Goodbye, Cardinal.”

Ouch. He deserves that. As does he deserve the way you leave and shut the door behind you without a second glance back to him. Anxiety sinks heavy in his stomach as he lowers himself to slump on the end of his desk. He nearly forgets his fratello is there when the imposing papa clears his throat.

“Che cazzo, stronzo?” he barks, making Copia wince and fold in on himself. He’s not sure if it’s wiser to play dumb or fess up to his feelings but judging by the steely look in Secondo’s eye, he’ll take nothing less but the truth.

“It’s…a long story.”

“No it isn’t,” Secondo snarls, stalking over to him and jabbing him in the chest with a long finger. “You’re being chicken shit, aren’t you?”

Leave it to Secondo to suss out the reality of the situation in a heartbeat. Copia shifts himself out of poking distance and rounds the desk to collapse in his chair.

“I…eh…sì.”

Secondo crosses his arms and stares down at him imperiously.

Copia reaches up and rubs the bridge of his nose, unsure of how much detail to give him. Judging from the look on Secondo’s face, he wants to hear all of it.

“So we…got together. The night of the Yule gathering. I walked her back to her rooms and we… eh…made out along the way. We got to her place and she invited me in and I…I wanted to treat her as she deserves, sì? Flowers, dates, chocolates, the whole shebang. So I told her that. Then she–”

His voice cracks and he clears his throat, the mere memory of the incident enough to rile him up.

“She tells me she’s a virgin. A virgin, Secondo. Sathanas, I nearly grabbed her and had her in the damn hallway.”

Secondo makes a noise, his eyebrows rocketing up. He’s clearly not unmoved by this information either.

“So after that I…I try my best - my fucking best - to keep my composure. And maledetto inferno she did not make it easy, the little minx. And then I asked her out on a date. Our first. We went to Lucia’s on New Year’s Eve - came back, opened a bottle of champagne and well. Things escalated.”

“Did you…?”

“No,” Copia says hastily, “I mean…we didn’t do nothing but she remains ah…intact. Since then I-I don’t know what to do. The way she looks at me, the way she kisses me, touches me…”

“Fratello,” Secondo says, leaning against the wall and crossing his legs at the ankle, “forgive me but I’m not seeing the problem with a beautiful, young virgin desiring you.”

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Copia says, “it’s not what she wants that scares me…it’s what I want. Secondo, I love her more than anything, desire her more than anything but…I’m afraid if she sees the extent of my passion, my obsession with her I’ll…I’ll drive her away. Like everyone else, sì? So I restrain myself at every turn.”

Secondo nods, quiet for a moment before speaking carefully.

“Copia, have you considered telling her any of this? That perhaps maybe sharing your fears with her - someone who loves you very deeply in return - will help alleviate your angst? Not to mention you’re probably driving the poor girl mad with lust, vecchio cane.”

Copia snorts and Secondo smiles.

“You two were so blind for so long, unwilling to see the feelings you had for one another when to everyone else it was obvious. She was made for you, and you for her. I’ve seen you chase after a few people over the years, fratello, and you looked at none of them the way you look at her. So tell her. Show her, for fuck’s sake. You know full well how many in this abbey would kill to be in your position, huh? Terzo, for one, which is why this stays between us, sì? You need to make your move before he catches wind of her…condition.”

Copia nods vigorously, heaving a deep sigh and tipping his head against the back of his chair.

“Grazie, Secondo. For listening, as you always have.”

Secondo nods solemnly before pushing himself off the wall and making to leave.

“W-why did you come in originally?” Copia asks.

Secondo shrugs and winks his white eye.

“Brotherly intuition. Ciao, Copia.”

With a little wave the papa is gone and Copia sighs.

He’d come see you tonight. It was now or never.

–

You make sure to stay out of Copia’s way the remainder of the day, more confused than angry. When he’s with you he’s hot and cold - professing his love but ultimately shying away from your touch - and when you’re around others, well. With Terzo he’s possessive, with Secondo he’s jumpy. What is going on in that head of his? Well. Doesn’t matter. You’ve already made your mind up to go to him tonight and sort things out. He’s got confession duty until eight which gives you plenty of time to…prepare. A shiver runs through your body at the implication that if you play your cards right, tonight could be the night. Perhaps…you look at the small bundle of keys on the lanyard around your neck, sorting through them to find a specific one. He gave you the key to his rooms last week. Perhaps he would be more ah…pliant…to your desires were you to simply be…waiting for him. You giggle, actually giggle aloud, in your empty office. He’s not going to know what hit him.

You’re distracted the rest of the day, head filled with plans and scenarios, and you move through your tasks mechanically. When Sister Imperator drops by to give you a heads up about another painting she bought at auction she gives you a curious look. She’s been kind of weird around you since after the break - looking at you shiftily during meetings - and you’d be unsettled by it were your head not already filled with other things. When she turns to leave your office, she casually tosses “why don’t you take the rest of the day, hmm?” over her shoulder. You sputter, baffled as to how she seemed to know, and she turns around to give you a tight smirk before leaving with her red stilettos tapping on the marble. You’re holding your breath watching her retreat down the hall and you look at your watch.

3:21 PM

You’ve got hours but there’s a lot you have to cram in before then. First to head to the dining hall and wolf down a meal, then to Primo for a restock of your…meds, then to your quarters to shower and figure out what you’re going to wear. 

Better get going.

By the time you finish your tasks and return to your quarters, it’s 5:36 PM. You were waylaid by a group of siblings after you left Primo’s greenhouse who politely asked you to help them take pictures for the Ministry’s social media account. Dropping your keys and phone on the side table, you strip and leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom. Your shower is swift but you still make sure to use your best smelling products. You go through your skincare routine and step out to look at the clock next to your bed.

6:17 PM

Shit. You feel like you're pushing it and you’re glad you ultimately decided not to wash your hair tonight. Padding out into your bedroom, you open your drawers and rifle through them. You wanted something that gave the impression you were…his for the taking. Something soft and well…virginal. When you pull a knee length cream colored silk nightgown out of your pajama drawer you make a loud noise of appreciation. A little wrinkled, maybe, but you doubt he would care. Tossing your towel on your bed you pull the slip over your head, shivering at the touch of the cool material. Your eyes travel to the top of your dresser and you spot your perfume - the one you know he loves - and give yourself a few spritzes before touching his gold grucifix on your collarbone. That should do it. But now you have to get from your quarters to his and somehow you think doing so in a thin nightgown isn’t the wisest decision so you grab your robe and wrap it snugly around you. Stepping into your slippers you walk out of your room and grab your phone and key, taking a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

The journey up the two floors to Copia’s quarters passes without incident, unless you count the siblings who saw your attire and gave you funny looks. Your hands are shaking - actually shaking - as you reach his door and unlock it, stepping inside. It’s dark.

“Shit,” you hiss, fumbling for the switch. When you manage to locate it and flip it on, the room is bathed in a soft yellow glow. His quarters are nice - not that yours are a dump, by any means - but the level of decorative detail has you inspecting every corner of his living space. Looking around you remove your robe and set it on a chair by the door. When you hear a few squeaks you shuffle over to the large rat cage in the corner, cooing at the little faces peering up at you. Stelline stands on her hind legs, nose snuffling in your direction.

“Hello, little loves,” you murmur, “I’ve got to be nosy for a second so you stay put, okay?”

When Stelline lets out a particularly loud squeak it makes you laugh so loud you clap your hand to your mouth. Before any more objections can be made you head to the other side of the room, past the wall of leaded glass windows, and through a doorway on the left. A small kitchen. Cute. Which means the other doorway leads…your heart thuds as you approach the darkened alcove and turn on yet another light switch. 

Copia’s bedroom.

It feels forbidden to be in this space and you step in cautiously, expecting at any moment to get busted for breaking and entering. It’s a decent size room - bigger than yours - with dark wood paneling and tapestries on the walls. There’s an empty fireplace on the left and a large dresser, as well as a high backed chair. There’s a doorway which undoubtedly leads to his bathroom and…there it is. A large four-poster bed with dark red hangings and matching covers. You swallow thickly, stepping over to it. This could be it, you think, running your hands over the duvet. This could be the place where y—wait, what’s that?

There’s a scrap of black peeking out from under his pillow and curious, you reach for it. When you pull the item out, your jaw drops.

Those. Those are yours. Your…

“That little pervert!” you crow, veins flooded with warmth at the thought of what he did with your underwear. Your dirty underwear. Filthy man…filthy delicious man. Well who are you to deprive him of his simple pleasures, you think as you stuff the garment back under the pillow. Should everything go right tonight you’ll tease him about it…afterwards. Shaking your head you look down at your phone.

7:21 PM

Still got about forty minutes to kill, assuming confession doesn’t go over. Suddenly you’re kicking yourself for rushing all day and walk over to the chair to plop down. Hopefully a little time on your phone will pass the minutes.

You’re on your…how many games of solitaire was this?...when you hear the distinct sound of a key in a lock. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you set your phone aside and grip the arms of the chair. When he enters and shuts the door behind him, making his weird little noises, you can’t help but smile. 

“Buonasera, i miei bambini!”

You can hear him scoot over to his rats, sighing deeply. He talks to them for a few moments before his footfalls begin to approach where you are. He’s got his biretta in hand as he spots you and stands frozen in the doorway, mouth agape.

“Hey,” you say, slowly rising out of the chair.

It takes him a moment to speak, too distracted by your outfit.

“Cara…” he breathes, setting his biretta down on his dresser, “I-I was going to come to you tonight.”

“Hmm, well,” you shrug, “beat you to it.”

There’s a ringing silence between the two of you, your heart thundering against your ribs. You take a step towards him.

“Copia, you don’t have to hold back. You don’t have to…have to hide from me. I love you. You know that.”

“Sì,” he whispers, “but do you know how much I love you? How I would do anything for you - to you - if you let me? Dolcezza I–”

“So what if I let you?” you ask, taking another step towards him. “What if I want you to? What if I’ve always wanted you to? What if you’re the only one I’ve ever–” you take two more steps towards him until you’re a breath apart, “--wanted to?”

He exhales shakily, breath stirring the hairs around your face.

“I’m giving you permission, Copia,” you breathe, “I want you to take, and take, and take from me until I have nothing left to give. I’m yours, my love. I’m–”

You don’t finish your declaration - don’t get a chance. Copia lunges at you like an animal, wrapping his arms around you drawing you snug against his chest with his lips pressed against yours. He’s never kissed you like this before - like a starving man - lips and teeth and tongue mingling with yours and peppered with groans and growls. He’s holding you so tight he squeezes the breath from your lungs as he nips at your throat, ravenous.

“Mine,” he growls, “amata mia. I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.”

When he licks along your carotid you gasp, and gently push at him.

“Let me undress you,” you breathe as you pant, “please Copia I want to see you.”

Copia pauses and pulls away to rest his forehead against yours before nodding. When he takes a step away from you, you mourn the warmth of his body.

“Go on, amore mio,” he murmurs.

“I-I don’t know where to start,” you confess with a smile. He offers his hands out to you.

“Here.”

This act alone is far more intimate than anything the two of you have done before. You know how he is about his hands and when you reach for them your own shake. Your fingers slide up the palm and wrist, taking the zipper and pulling. Gently, you ease each finger out of its sheath and pull the leather away. His hand is…beautiful. Large, freckled - like the rest of him - with a dusting of fine brown hair and–

“What happened?” you ask quietly, index finger tentatively brushing against the scar tissue in the center. “Copia is that–”

“Sì,” he answers simply and you reach for his other hand to repeat the process. You want to know, want to ask why but stay silent and save your curiosity for another time. Once the other one is bare you take them both in your hands and look at him.

“Beautiful,” you say softly, keeping your eyes on his as you raise each palm to your lips and place a firm, lingering kiss at the center. Some of the raw hunger leaves his eyes - replaced with utter adoration.

“What’s next?”

“This,” he points to his grucifix. It takes you a minute of peering at his pellegrina before you see where the bejeweled accessory is hooked. Delicately you detach it and set it on the dresser.

“Next?”

“My fascia,” Copia whispers, gesturing to his belt. When you loosen it from his waist, the long red material sliding through your hands, he watches you intently. You fold the garment up neatly and set it aside.

“Cassock?” you ask.

He nods, guiding your fingers to his neck. Each button feels like an eternity and by the time you reach his waist he can sense your quiet frustration.

“We can cheat with this one,” he murmurs, grabbing the sides and inching them up his body before pulling the garment over his head. When the red wool falls in a pile on the floor, you regard it fondly.

“I don’t know if I can wait any longer, amore,” he says, standing before you in his clerical shirt, suspenders, and trousers.

“One last thing, please,” you say before darting away and into the bathroom. You rummage around in the linen closet for a moment before pulling out a rag and turning on the sink. When you return to him with the soaked cloth he looks perplexed until you raise it to his face.

“If I’m going to see you naked,” you say, gently wiping away the paint on his right eye, “I want all of you naked.”

He chuckles, hands behind his back as you remove every bit of the Cardinal you can find. When you finish, he takes the rag from you and tosses it to the floor.

“On the bed, amata,” there’s a darkness, a self-assuredness in his tone that would feel almost foreign to you if you hadn’t heard it first on New Year’s Eve. It makes a shiver run down your spine as you step over to his bed. He follows, toeing off his shoes and reaching down to remove his socks, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you clamber onto the red duvet. He pauses at the foot of the bed and slides his suspenders off his shoulders so they hang by his sides before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his clerical shirt to expose a pale sternum covered in more fine brown hair. You blink up at him before taking a deep breath, sitting up on your knees, and pulling the nightgown over your head. The garment falls to the rug in a whisper and there you are. Bare. Your heart is in your throat as you lean backwards against the pillows, presenting yourself to him.

Copia doesn’t look hungry anymore. 

He looks feral.

When he presses his knee on the bed and slowly begins to crawl towards you, your breathing comes in pants. He urges your legs apart, spreading you open for him and eyeing the thatch of curls at the juncture of your thighs before situating himself between your knees.

“Dolcezza,” he growls, bare hands ghosting over your hips without actually touching you, “will you join me in prayer?” 

Your mouth falls open.

“N-now?” His eyes fall to the heaving of your breasts as you continue to take ragged breaths. The drag of his gaze along every dip and swell of your body makes your face heat up.

“Sì, amore mio. For when else am I to give thanks to Sathanas for this most blessed gift? What better place than right–” he touches your knees, making you jump, “--here?” His hands slide up your thighs as he shuffles forward to loom over you, breath dancing with yours. Mismatched eyes bore into yours, the corner of his lips curled slightly in a wicked smile.

You nod.

“Unholy Father,” he begins before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is unhurried, decadent even, and when his tongue slides hotly along yours you whimper into his mouth. The chuckle that reverberates into you has your body arching into his, eager for his touch. You think he’s about to do just that when he pulls away, a lewd string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

“Today I give thanks for this–” he inhales deep through his nose “--glorious favor you have bestowed upon me, a most faithful son.”

He lowers himself towards you once more, to press open-mouthed kisses along your throat. With some hesitancy, you bring your hand up to his head and drag your fingers through his hair, causing him to groan. His tongue traces a path across your clavicle - briefly pausing to kiss the gold grucifix that rests there - and continues down your sternum. 

“For what greater honor–” he pauses to suck at the swell of your breast, “--can you provide than an eager–” his lips drag torturously close to where you need him, “--willing–” his tongue darts out to graze the taut bud, “sweet–” he hovers over your nipple, eyes trained up on yours, and his hot breath makes you shiver, “--virgin.” When he finally, finally lowers his lips to slip the hardened bud into his mouth you let out a keening moan. He sucks hungrily, teeth teasing at it and tongue soothing the catch of bone on flesh. 

“Copia, fuck,” you breathe, fingers buried in his hair to cradle him against you, “mmm just like that. Just like that, love.”

He rewards the endearment by bringing his hand up to your other breast and cupping the soft flesh in his large palm. When his thumb brushes over your nipple your hips buck again, and you can feel him smile against your skin. He wetly pulls off of you and you let out an undignified whimper at the loss.

“I have her heart,” he says, and you’re wildly confused for a moment before it dawns on you that he’s not done praying. The realization makes your head fall back against his pillows, your tongue sliding out to wet your lips. He’s abandoned your breasts now and has slid further down, hands on your waist. 

“I have her mind,” he places a soft kiss to the curve of your belly once - and again - before sliding down even further.

“Her soul–” he kisses the underside of your stomach once more, his mustache tickling you, “--I’m working on—“ 

When he glances up at you with a grin you smile back, deliriously enchanted, “--and her body…” 

His breath stirs the curls between your legs and your heart pounds. “...Is now mine.” The low, almost sinister tone of his voice makes you gasp, knowing full well what comes next. 

“Nema.”

“N-nema.”

He bows his head in reverence and taking his thumbs, spreads you open and drags his tongue through your slick folds. The sensation sends a shockwave through you, your back arching off the mattress as you squirm.

“Copia!”

His hands fly to your hips, gripping and kneading the flesh as he continues to work his tongue against you. He’s content to lap at your entrance for a couple of minutes before dragging the muscle upwards slightly and–oh. When he curves the flat of his tongue along your swollen clit he really has to hold you down. Your fingers cling to the silvered brown strands on his head, holding him against you and through your lowered lids you can see his hips minutely grinding against the mattress. You’re laughing, high and breathy, as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you, better than your fingers or any vibrator. When he moans into your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh you gasp.

“Fuck, my love, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, Copia please.”

He grins against you, mouth returning to gather the slick at your entrance and the tip of his long, large nose grinding against your clit. The sensation is overwhelming as your body thrashes and, you think deliriously, he’s definitely going to leave marks with how firmly he’s holding you. When he pulls away from you - no doubt to catch his breath - he leans up on his elbows a little and gives you a wolfish grin. 

“Dolcezza, what a sacrifice you make. Ave Sathanas.”

You laugh, grinning down at him as he returns to his task. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, again and again, you know it’s over. You’re babbling nonsense, sweet little words of praise at your lover, as you feel that familiar wave begin to crest inside you.

“Copia, oh fuck Copia I’m so close honey.”

He hums around you, hips continuing to rut into the duvet as he devours you. When you no longer have the ability to form words, you moan, higher and higher as you grip his hair and the covers. He pulls away slightly, making you cry out in desperation but when he returns he gently nudges the tip of his finger inside you. It’s not enough to make any real impact but the knowledge that he’s simply toying with you as you thrash below him has you letting out breathy, hysterical laughter.

“So good for your Cardinal,” he pants, and when you meet his gaze you can feel yourself clenching around his finger. “So tight for me and I haven’t even filled you yet. Tell me - did you use your own fingers while thinking of me?”

“Copia pl–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastises, licking his lips. “I won’t give you what you want until you answer me, amore mio.”

You’ve only seen glimpses of this side of him before - hints at what lurked below the surface but now that you’re being fully exposed to this Copia - self-assured and smug in his power - your hunger for him increases tenfold.

“Yes, I-I did.”

“How many?”

He asks the question with all the casualness of asking for the price of apples at the farmer’s market.

“D-depends. Sometimes two. Sometimes thre–ah!”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s easing a second finger into you, stretching you open.

“My fingers are much bigger than yours, amore,” he says as he begins to slide himself in knuckle deep. “We’ll start with two today to eh, warm you up, sì? Would you like that?”

He’s right - his fingers are a lot bigger than yours and when he pauses to gently crook them inside you your jaw falls open in a desperate moan.

“Y-yes. Yes! Fuck, Copia just like that. Please, my love, please.”

“You beg so prettily for me, dolcezza,” he growls, lowering his face to your cunt once more, “keep going.”

The sounds he draws out of you as he licks and sucks and fucks his fingers into you are unlike any you’ve made before. Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you wonder if people passing by in the hallway can hear you but that only makes your hips buck into his touch even harder. You do as he asks and begs, promising him anything, anything as long as he doesn’t stop, please don’t stop. When you finally come apart, your muscles burn and you scream his name - fuck now you know someone heard that - as he presses against that sweet spot inside you. You don’t even notice him removing his mouth and pulling back so he can watch your face contort as you pant and sweat against his pillows. Your vision has gone blurry as you stare at the canopy above you, only somewhat aware of him sliding his fingers out of you and pulling back. You look up at him, sitting on his haunches looking both smug and full of affection, as he licks at the mess on his hand.

“C’mere,” you say, crooking a finger at him. He obliges with a smile, and when his face approaches yours you grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for a slow, wet kiss. 

“Mm–like the taste of yourself, ragazza mia? Filthy thing.”

You can feel his cock nudging you through his pants and you grind upwards against him. He growls into your mouth before pulling away.

“Don’t finish me before I get started, amata,” he purrs, leaning down to run his tongue along your jaw.

You laugh.

“That wasn’t you getting started?” you marvel, and he pulls back to give you a lewd wink. “Take these off, my love. I want to see all of you.”

He nods, sliding backwards off the bed to stand. You watch him intently as he finishes unbuttoning and untucking his clerical shirt before unfastening his pants and sliding them and his underwear down to step out of them. He’s…gorgeous. You always knew he was but seeing him like this - bare and freckled, the brown hair on his body abundant - you sigh. Something dreamy and romantic sits on your tongue until your eyes travel to the juncture of his thighs and your mouth runs dry. He crawls on his hands and knees towards you, settling in between your legs and stroking his thick, reddened cock.

“You, eh. You like it?”

You nod dumbly, unable to form anything coherent. His body is clearer now in this light - he’s got a scar on the right side of his abdomen and on his left pectoral you see–

“A tattoo?!” you splutter loudly. 

The self-satisfied smile on his face drops as he lets go of his cock and it bobs in front of him.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?”

The ridiculousness of the whole situation hits you at once - the two of you nude, you being a virgin, him with his tattoo, both of you in this fucking Satanic abbey - and you tilt your head back and laugh. He growls and throws himself forward, caging you in underneath him.

“I show you my cock and you laugh?” he chastises you, mustache twitching as he fights back a smile. “Have some dignity, piccola vergine mia.”

Your laughter dies and you take in the flushed face of the man above you, strands of hair falling into his eyes. 

“I love you.”

His eyes get misty, as do yours, as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Amata mia, dolcezza mia, vita mia, tutto mio. Ti amo. Per sempre.”

He leans down and places a sweet, soft kiss on your cheek before nuzzling into it.

“Are you ready?”

You cup his jaw and run your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Have your wicked way with me, Cardinale,” you smile, your hips shifting up against his. The drag of his wet cock against the heat of you makes him groan.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, leaning back and taking himself in hand. You spread your legs wider, still soaked from your earlier activities, and present yourself to him. When his cockhead prods at your entrance, you jump and his eyes fly to yours for confirmation. You nod and gently, slowly, he pushes himself in. There’s no pain, only pressure, as he slides in, his breathing ragged in an effort to maintain control. When he bottoms out, your bodies flush to one another, you pant up at him.

“Y-you okay?” he stammers, clearly trying his hardest to restrain himself. You watch a drop of sweat slide down his temple.

“Copia,” your voice is calmer than it’s been all evening, “don’t hold back.”

You feel his arms wobble on either side of you at your words as he slides nearly all the way out of you and pushes back in. He repeats the action, each thrust gaining more force than the last. The feel of him stretching you is divine, hypnotic, and watching him slowly come apart above you even more so. He’s moaning desperately with each slide of his cock, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“That’s it, baby,” you breathe, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

When you experimentally clench around him he whines, his hands seeking yours to entwine your fingers. He fucks into you a little harder, little deeper with a shift of his hips, making you arch your back and press your breasts against him.

“S-so good,” he whimpers, “so tight, amore. So–ah–sweet for me, always.”

All you can do is moan in response as he jerks against you. You’re full - so deliciously full of him - and wildly you wonder how you went this long without him. This man that you adored so deeply - who adored you back - who always cared, always listened. You can feel tears prick the corners of your eyes and you whimper as you wrap your legs around his waist as tight as you possibly can. His movements are limited now by your actions but you don’t care - all you care about is keeping the two of you joined as close as possible.

“Amore, amore, amore,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. Despite his thrusts no longer being quite as deep, they are no less forceful.

“Thank you,” you manage to eke out, “thank you. Vita mia. Mondo mio. You’re perfect.”

He chuffs out a noise between a sob and a pant, clearly moved by your use of language. The snap of his hips picks up and you can feel that pressure building inside of you once more. 

“Copia,” you whimper, “Copia I’m close, I’m so close, don’t stop. Please, my love.”

His fingers tighten in yours, palms slick with sweat and you feel yourself falling, falling. Your cunt spasms around him as his thrusts become wild, erratic and you feel wave upon wave of pleasure spreading from your core through your limbs and into your fingertips. It’s different from your usual orgasms - less violent, less frantic - but no less intense. You can feel the tears sliding down into your hair as you buck up against him, desperate to wring out every last moment of the feeling.

“Cara,” Copia’s voice is hoarse, “I’m–I’m going–”

“Let go. Show me how much you love me, Copia.”

Your command is all the permission he needs and lets out a low, broken moan of your name as his hips spasm into yours and you feel his seed pulse inside of you. Idly, you think about how glad you are that you visited Primo before this. You look up at the man on top of you and reach up to push his hair out of his eyes. His eyes are bright, white eye glowing, as he shakes and struggles to hold himself up. Gently, you ease him to the side, making sure to keep the two of you joined as he collapses next to you. You’re simply not ready to let go yet. The two of you tremble in each other’s arms, content to bathe in the heavy emotion. Your tears have dried and now a calm washes over you.

“Hey,” you murmur, fingers raking through Copia’s sweaty hair. He’s watching you carefully - every dart of your eyes and twitch of your cheeks - as if he’s anticipating something.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “So was that, eh. Satisfactory?”

You snort and tug lightly at his hair.

“I think I can now say I’ve been thoroughly and successfully ravished, Cardinal. This must be quite a feather in your cap. You’ve made your Unholy Father proud.”

Now it’s his turn to snort.

“Just be thankful no one else found out about your, eh, former condition. You’d have had clergy and siblings and ghouls all lined up for you.”

“Oh,” you begin with a not-so-innocent tone, “so that’s why you romanced me, huh? Wanted first dibs?”

“Cara, no,” Copia says, deadly serious all of a sudden, “this isn’t–I would never–”

You laugh, dragging your fingers through his chest hair.

“My love, it’s been almost a year, I thought you’d be used to my stupid jokes by now.”

“Ah!” he rolls his eyes and waves at you dismissively, making you laugh even harder.

You finally have to separate, his softened cock sliding out of you as you push backwards. When you try to swing your legs over the bed and stand a hand wraps around your bicep and hauls you back down to bounce on the mattress.

“And where do you think you’re going, signorina?”

“Well I was gonna go pee and then–”

Quick as a cat, he rolls onto you, grinning down at you.

“Bellezza mia,” he purrs, “I hope you didn’t make plans for the next few days. We have, eh, lots of time to make up for. And you,” he leans down and runs his tongue over your pulse point, feeling it thunder against your skin, “have so much to learn.”

When the two of you text Sister Imperator with suspiciously matching illnesses the next morning, she smiles to herself. 

All in Lucifer’s plan.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

A/N: Are things really getting better?

Warnings: honestly I don’t think this one’s that bad—comparatively, nodding instead of communicating, progression that I was not emotionally prepared for.

Word Count: 5,528

-Part 5- -Part 7-

“You could move in with me.”

Golden eyes meet your own, shining with sincerity. Maybe that’s the sunset.

Lips quirk, attention returning to the Sidra. Marking the small diamonds of teal and turquoise that gleam between the multitude of reds and yellows. A beautiful rainbow of colours. “Funny, Bas.”

“I’m serious,” he says, eyes weighing on your cheek. “You could help out, if you’re worried about being a burden. You’ve got the brains for it—it’d barely take any effort.”

You shake your head, firmly dismissing the idea, “it’s not that… I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, clothing shifting as he readjusts himself. You peer down into the river, allowing the breeze to push and play with your feet—hanging over the ledge. Beneath you, Bas has laid a picnic blanket, the two of you sat cozily, side by side.

“It would be too much,” you reply, looking down the river. Peering at the restaurants that line it’s bank, preparing for the influx of customers that sweep in around this time. Eager to watch the colours flicker and dance. “I can’t ask that from you.”

Bas blows out a deep breath, the air bubbling from his lips. Laughter creeps into your eyes as they flick to him. He raises a single, dark brow, amusement gleaming in his gaze. “You know you sound like a horse when you do that.” Bas grins, full lips pressing together as he repeats the sound. Your own hurt as they stretch into a smile, “stop it. This is supposed to be a serious conversation.”

Amusement dances in his eyes as he takes in your feigned glare. “You didn’t seem to be taking it particularly seriously,” he counters, tucking one knee beneath his chin, propping it on his forearm as he watches you. Locks obscure some of the gold in his eyes as he peers at you from beneath a raised brow. “And your solution was to whinny like you were sulking?” You shoot back, smiling faintly.

“Well, maybe if you actually rode your horse from time to time, he wouldn’t be so grumpy,” he mutters playfully. A surprised laugh bursts from your lips, landing a knock to his shoulder in chastisement. He doesn’t so much as budge—merely smiles, propping his jaw on his arm instead of keeping the lower portion of his features obscured.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” he grins, watching the Sidra reflect in your eyes. “I’m laughing at the fact you would willing compare yourself to a horse,” you return. “Why not something more majestic? Like a lion?”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m a lion?” You try to suppress your smile—why do you even bother when you’re around him? “Would you rather I compare you to a rat?” Bas barks a laugh, loud enough to draw a few sets of eyes, your own widening at the volume.

“Your flattery could use some work,” he says, still smiling. Tension releases your shoulders, breath easing from your lungs. A cool breeze flutters by, making you shiver. He shifts closer.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks gently, allowing the quiet to calm the two of you. Lips purse, teeth prodding your lower one. “I just couldn’t,” you murmur, “like I said: it would be too much.” His brow narrows, attention remaining solely on you.

“How?” He asks. “It would just be for a little, yeah? Until you find something to do.”

“But what if I don’t find something to do? Then I’d just be a dead weight, and I’d have to go back without having done anything,” you say, softly. “I wouldn’t be able to face them.”

Bas shifts again, lowering both legs over the edge, his thigh pressing to your own. “You’re smart. You’ll find something.” You roll your eyes at his false confidence. “You have nothing to base that on,” you smile, attention briefly flicking to him. “But I appreciate the reassurance.”

“Nothing to base it on,” he scoffs. “You read essays for fun. What other sources do I need?” You release an indignant huff, stubbornly setting your gaze back on the river.

When he figures you’re ignoring him, his hand darts behind you, quickly pinching your backside, before returning to his lap. You start, then turn to glare at him, “Bas.” He gives you one of his grins, and you falter. Heat settles in your lower belly. “I think it would be a nice arrangement, don’t you?” He drawls, roughly. “You wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. Could just roll out of bed and straight into mine.”

Something dark and syrupy gathers between your legs and you glare at him harder, heat warming your skin. “We’re in public, Bas,” you chastise, eyes darting around to make sure no one detects the shift in your scent. No one except for the male who’s leaning in a little closer now, nosing at your throat with interest. “Then maybe we should go somewhere else, yeah?”

Golden eyes lock with your own, darkened with hunger. It hits you like a kick in the stomach; muscles practically melt. “You’re way too good at that for my liking,” you breathe, already having trouble looking away from his mouth. Lips lift into a smirk, sharp eyes gleaming, “well I get a lot of practice, don’t I?”

Teeth push into your lower lip, and all it takes is the few seconds you look away from him to make up your mind.

You need a night to empty your head. To feel again.

And Bas is the perfect relief.

————

The story repeats itself, more familiar to you than anything else in your life.

Hot breath tickles the nape of your neck, lips lifting into a helpless smile as you attempt to move out of the way. Arms wrap snugly around your waist, dragging you across the mattress, back flush to his naked front. Hair brushes against you, clean and rough, making you squirm in his grip. Vaguely trying not to wake him.

It’s over when he huffs a soft laugh onto your skin, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs. “Bas…” you laugh quietly, rolling over to face him. Golden eyes cut into your own, already clear despite sleep weighing his lids. “Trying to sneak away?” He asks, mouth quirked in a faint grin. You roll your eyes, noting the beams of sunlight streaming in from the circular skylight. Brow furrows, “what time is it?”

His expression mirrors your own, raising to peer over your head at the old clock mounted on the opposite wall. “It’s eleven thirty. About.”

You groan into his chest, ducking back beneath the covers. Count to seven. Pop back out. “I should be going, shouldn’t I?”

Bas quirks a brow, watching you fondly, well-accustomed to the questions you ask yourself. Watches as you sigh again, then roll over, allowing you to leave. Especially when it gives him a view of your lovely body, softened by sleep as you move lethargically to find your clothes. Pick them up. Set them on the bed. Move for the washroom. He uses the time to steady himself.

In retrospect, you were pretty quick—the two of you up and out of his house before the hour hand struck one. Walking up the short path through the garden that leads to the River House before half past.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah?” He checks, hands tucked into his pockets. Casual and at ease. Comfortable in his skin.

Lips quirk playfully, “greedy.”

His mouth matches your own, “you’re just as bad as I am. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not the one who was at attention first thing in the morning, Bas,” you whisper, smiling as his golden eyes gleam. “I’d be a little confused if you were, dove. Very flattered, though.”

Lips part in a grin, cheeks aching from your time spent with him. “Okay, I’ll drop by in a few days,” you smile, aware of your own reluctance to return to the house. “Try not to lose your head in the meantime.” Hand presses down on the handle, door swinging open, a gust of cool air greeting you.

Bas grins—one of his grins. “I’d be happy to give it to you,” he teases, eyes gleaming with amusement and a drop of sincerity. “Whenever you want, dove. It’s your call.” Heat flushes your skin at his offer—what even sex can’t decriminalise to your mind. He retreats a step, gold flashing in the sun as he grins easily, “you can’t hide from it forever. One day, yeah? I’ll show you how good it can be.”

You want to reply, but he’s already sauntering off, hands still tucked in his pockets, casual and leisurely. Bastard.

His offer repeats, how nonchalantly he regards that particular intimacy. As if it doesn’t go against the very root of human society. The foundations you were brought up on. Highlighting a primary difference between here and where you grew up. Women aren’t supposed to enjoy sex, let alone have it to themselves.

Sighing, shoulders weighed down, you allow the door to close at your back. Already missing him.

Walking into the entrance hall, you spot a parcel sat atop the entrance table, beside the vase filled with flora. Eyes flick about the room, checking no one’s around as you make for the stairs, aiming for your room.

“You aren’t going to take it?” Azriel asks, appearing in the doorway leading to the sitting room. You still, blinking. Turn around warily. “Pardon?” Hazel flicks to the package, “the parcel. Aren’t you going to open it?” Attention moves to the table between you. “That’s not—… I didn’t get anything?” You say, shifting on your feet.

“The note says it’s for you,” he replies, remaining the other side of the room.

Debate your options. Slowly walk forward, picking up the package. The note is indeed carrying your name. Flip it over to read its underside. In a clean, elegant script is scrawled: For your education.

Brows narrow, turning the parcel in your hands. No note saying who it’s from. Maybe it’s a late birthday present? “Thanks…” you murmur, absently, “I would have walked past it.” Eyes squinted in confusion, you make to turn around, interested in unwrapping it. Discoveries to be made.

“Eris left it.” Azriel states quietly. Intrigue vanishes, feeling like you’re holding scorching coals.

Gaze lifts to meet his own. “He did?” It seems he enjoys stirring up chaos.

Azriel nods, attention never leaving you. “Did he mention what’s inside?” You ask hesitantly, loosening your grip on the hard rectangle. He shakes his head in answer, making you sigh.

“And I suppose you want to know what’s inside?” You ask, grim smile on your lips. His throat rolls, eyes flicking away. “I would appreciate it if you let me know once you open it.” Blink away your surprise. Nod slowly. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Okay.”

Hastily clear your throat, emotion clogging your chest. Turn to head to your bedroom. “Are you feeling better?” He asks, again causing you to stop. Peer at him close, wary. “I am…” you hedge, watching him closely.

He nods, “good.” Shifts on his feet. “I’m glad.”

Your heart skips a beat, staring at him with poorly concealed surprise. Something flickers in his gaze, eyes briefly flitting away from your own, allowing you to shift your features to cover what you’re feeling.

“Yeah, I had… I had a good morning,” you mumble, peering down at your feet to hide the flush on your cheeks. He hums in acknowledgement, and your toes curl in your shoes, something warm and tender spreading across your breastbone. “Pillage any bookstores while you were out?” He asks, enough sincerity to have your lips stretching wide into a grin, cheeks aching all over again, painful enough you have to try to force it away.

“Not today. I thought I’d leave some for Nesta,” you reply, meeting his gaze. His features are neutral, but the edges of his irises are softer—warmer than normal. You quickly look away, stomach fluttering wildly. Too many butterflies suddenly resurrected for you to handle.

A peaceful quiet calms the room, allowing you some time to temporarily bask in the warmth of his approval.

“About our conversation, a few days ago…” he begins gently. Carefully. You shift on your feet, but don’t flee from the spot.

“I’m sorry for how I went about it,” he settles on. “Eris… There are some awful people in this world, and what he did to Mor…” he blows out a breath, shoulders loosening some of their tension. “I wouldn’t want that happening to you because he’d managed to convince you he could be trusted. I couldn’t forgive myself if that happened,” he admits quietly. “None of us could.”

Your heart rises up into your throat, pounding wildly as your eyes meet. Hazel calm, and steady. Tough and reassuring. You manage a weak nod of your head, fingers tightening on the package. “It’s fine,” you say gently, too overwhelmed to manage much more. “I’d already… You don’t need to apologise,” you reassure, fighting to keep your voice from trembling. “I’d practically forgotten.”

His eyes flicker, then he nods, accepting your assurance. “Then I won’t keep you any longer.” You nod back, mirroring the movement, “yeah. Okay.” It takes you a moment to remember yourself, clutching the parcel tighter, “I’ll go open this now, then.” You give him a smile before you turn, managing to ascend the stairs without turning to see if he’s still there.

Lungs hold at full capacity, near bursting with something warm and fuzzy as you peel back the brown paper, removing the string keeping it together. Take a few minutes to scan the pages of the volume, attention flitting mindlessly over diagrams and neatly written essays, quick to reach the end. It looks interesting, titled: Prythian: An Anthology of Discoveries.

While flicking through, you catch glimpses of constellations, depictions of your solar system, detailed illustrations of the planet closest to your own—further from the centre. Near the end, one in particular catches your attention: three overlapping ovals, appearing to make up a six-petaled flower that contains some small dots at its heart. Intriguing. Utterly fascinating.

You reach the final page, and make to flip back to the beginning, intending on reading each passage in detail, but—you’d said you’d let him see. He’s trusting you to follow through, and you’re not going to disappoint. Not now he’s allowing you some leeway.

So you hop to your feet, and make your way to where you saw him last, happily handing it over for inspection. Hazel flicks over the cover, taking in the title, scanning the first few pages in detail before shutting it again. “Thank you,” he says softly, “I’ll go through it quickly and then you’re free to read away.” A smile lifts your mouth, heart fluttering as you nod your head. “It’s fine,” you say, “take your time. I get you’re busy.”

Then you turn, not wanting him to see the deep flush on your cheeks—embarrassingly warm—and hurriedly make your way back to the silence of your bedroom. Clean and tidy, at last.

Heart pounding, you lean against your door. Replaying the gentle talk he’d given you. It’s been too long since he’s acted like that, breathing becoming shallow at the memory alone.

Slowly, you inhale a deep breath, pressing against the wood as you slide down, until you’ve reached the bare floor. Hand slides across your chest, feeling the drum of your pulse. Hold the breath to steady your lungs.

And when that breath releases, relief crushes down with it.

Finally.

Finally, you’ve gotten something right.

————

Days pass in a blur, and you find yourself pondering what to wear.

Bas had told you to find him in a couple of days, and quite frankly, you’re looking forward to it. Azriel will be done with your book soon, too. Probably either today or tomorrow, making your heart flutter. So many exciting things happening all at once! So many things to be happy about! It’s exhilarating.

The sky is clear as usual, sun beating down onto the cobbled streets. The flower baskets hanging either side doors and windows sway, leaves and petals glowing in the warmth, curling at the edges. You should wear something loose, to keep cool.

Before you know it, you’re ready and dressed, descending the staircase when knocks are landed to the front door. Golden eyes gleam with mischief when you answer, refreshing breeze sweeping in, playing with your skirts. He’s in the front garden, dark locks tied back, a few that aren’t long enough to reach framing his features. The carved beauty of his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the spark in his eyes…exhilarating.

“Bas,” you greet, smiling. “What are you doing here? Did you miss me?” He rolls his eyes, hands remaining tucked at his back, something rustling as he shifts. “Just making sure you weren’t going to chicken out, dove,” he says cockily, lips parting in a familiar grin. “And, well, I got you these.” From behind his back he pulls out a paper wrapped bouquet, containing pink and white baby’s breath. The flora is dried to keep it preserved, so it will store nicely in your room, without demanding any particular care.

Your can feel your features stretch as a smile overtakes your entire face. “Bas, are you serious?” Tentatively, you accept the menagerie of flowers, eyes gleaming as you peer into the swirl of colour, so complimentary to one another. He shrugs, “you seemed down last time. I thought these might brighten you up a little.” You meet his gaze, gold soft around the edges, and you feel yourself melt a little inside. “Thank you, Bas. You really didn’t need to.” You turn back to the bouquet, smiling.

“I wanted to,” he replies, nonchalantly. “So go put them up in your room, yeah? Then we can go out and have fun.”

You nod absently, making to head back inside, “where did you even find them? These don’t look endemic to the Night Court?”

“New shop,” he calls, “had all these long names in the window. Guessed you’d like stuff like that.” Lip press together in a smile, hurrying into the entrance hall and up the stairs, setting them on the table before returning. “Did you pick these out because they were the nicest or because they had the most complicated name?” You hop down the last step, mindlessly glancing at the table in the centre of the room.

“You couldn’t waterboard the title out of me,” he admits, a smile lighting his eyes. “Something like Gyrophilia Panicrolilia.” A snort bursts from you at the tangle of consonants.

“Gypsophilia Paniculata,” you amend, “from the Caryophyllaceae family. Same as carnations?” Bas sighs, “of course you know the name.”

“No,” you laugh, trying to make it clear you’re being sincere. “I just read a book on botany the other day. Otherwise I swear I wouldn’t have known. It’s a coincidence.” Bas gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you, making you smile wider. “Well, shall we?”

You’re about to cross the threshold when you hear your name being called from the sitting room, boots lightly scuffing on the floor as to not surprise you. Stiffening, you turn to face Azriel, stood in the doorway. Hazel pierces into you, having already marked the guest at the door. A strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t like Bas. “Yes?” You ask, fingers wringing together.

Boots move forward, making you tense as he steps fully into view, coming to stand at your side. Golden eyes flick over the male, his familiar lips quirking and you send him a sharp glance. He barely managed to keep his mouth shut the last time they collided. “Azriel,” he greets, inclining his head ever so slightly. “Bas,” he returns, features neutral. Anxiety swarms the pit of your stomach, turning to fluttering butterflies when his fingertips graze the base of your spine. Tension seeps from your shoulders, attention helplessly attracted to his gravitational pull.

Hazel remains locked on gold for a second longer than necessary, before latching onto you. Skin prickles beneath his focus, features flushing with warmth despite the breeze. “I thought I’d let you know I’m finished with the book,” he says calmly. “Feel free to collect it whenever you want.” Slowly, you nod in acknowledgement. Swallow. “Okay,” you manage, world fading a little around him. “Is there a time that’d be good for you?” You ask, attempting to steady out your heartbeat.

Azriel pauses, thinking. “After dinner would be good,” he settles on, and you nod.

“Okay,” you answer, “I’ll knock after dinner, then.” His eyes flick to Bas briefly, and you tense. Are either of them going to clash? “Well,” you break the silence, not waiting to find out. “I’ll see you later.” You offer one of your better smiles. He nods, still watching Bas. Step forward, falling into pace beside him, heading out into the bright sun-warmed streets of Velaris.

“You heave really questionable taste, you know that?” Bas states once you’re both down the street, out of ear-shot. Smile, and roll your eyes. “Isn’t that obvious? I spend so much time with you.” He snorts, shoving you lightly. “I’m serious,” he says, eyes gleaming, “you looked like you were about to start glowing.” The laughter stumbles in your chest, coming out a little strained, but you manage to persevere. “Very funny, Bas. Now can we change the subject?” You offer, glaring at him playfully.

“All I’m saying is you picked a difficult guy,” he comments, eyes scanning the shops. Sighing, your attention flits into different windows, picking out all sorts of items and antiquities. “Why don’t you two get on?” You subvert, trying not to peer at him to mark his reaction, “I’ve never seen you quarrel with anyone else?”

Bas shrugs, “how should I know. We’ve barely ever spoken before.” Your brow dips, but he finally seems content to let the subject drop. You’re more than happy to let it slip away.

————

“Come in.”

Toes curl at the sound of his voice, but you gently push away the heat, stepping into his office, scanning the room curiously. He’s sat at his desk, piles of paper neatly stacked a few inches from the edges, ink pots and quills as well as a few daggers litter the remaining space. Typical decoration for him. The room is fairly sparse of personal touch, save for a rug laying atop the floor, muffling to step of your feet.

“Hi,” you say quietly, smiling as hazel latches onto you. Giddiness warms your heart, melting your bones to soft liquid. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Azriel straightens in his chair, setting aside whatever report he was inevitably filing, giving you his full attention. “No, actually. Perfect timing—I was just finishing.” A sigh breathes from your lips, tension seeping from your shoulders as you step further into the room. “Was everything okay? With the book, I mean,” you ask, automatically seeking out the neatly bound volume.

He nods, standing as he picks it up, handing it over. “Do you know why he gave it to you?” Blink once. Redirect your attention to the anthology, gently plying it from his hands, bringing it to rest against your torso. Like a strange, make-shift shield. “Not really,” you admit. “We had a brief talk about my orrery, but he seemed fairly disinterested.”

“Your orrery?” He asks. “Like the one Rhys has?” Your head raises by itself, meeting his piercing gaze. Eyes sparkle as you nod, grinning, “mine’s a little smaller—by quite a bit, actually. But ‘Lain got it for me and” —you shift the volume into one of your arms, Azriel’s hands flexing at his sides as if you might drop it— “it’s the most beautiful creation I’ve ever seen. It’s utterly incredible. I’d love to show you sometime—it’s so intricately carved, and the texture is rendered so lovingly.” You stop momentarily to ease in breath. “But really, it’s utterly incredible.”

Azriel looks vaguely surprised. “I think that’s the quickest I’ve ever heard you speak,” he comments, gaze flitting to the book, “I didn’t realise you had an interest in science.” Heat flushes your cheeks, torn between clarifying that you aren’t trying to disprove the existence of the Mother, and telling him more about the worlds and the universe. Telling him everything you can think of regarding the subject, actually. It’s all perched on the tip of your tongue, ready to be recited with perfect accuracy.

“Did you have a good day today?” He asks instead, knocking you off your feet. Memories of the stars vanish, replaced by a blank space. Blink once. Twice. Nod slowly. “Yeah…I did,” you answer softly, unaccustomed to being asked after. Clear your throat. “What about you?” You fumble out, “have fun doing your” —peer at the stack of reports on his desk, wincing— “…work?” He nods back, “I suppose. It’s out of the way, now.” You nod in acknowledgement, fingers itching to tangle with one another.

“Okay,” you say, softly, “remember not to overwork yourself…” You chicken out, unable to finish with his name. Toes curl in your shoes. Just the two of you. Two people in one room. Two people alone. Alone together. Heartbeat spikes. Book shifts in your arms. Deep breath.

“I—… There’s something…you might…” you fumble, skin flushing, unsure what to say. “I mean, it might not— You might not need to know, but maybe it would be better to tell you? But I don’t…” Embarrassment weighs in your gut, numbness gliding down your back. His attention weighs into you, making you shift to your other foot, resting the heavy book on your hip. He holds out an offering hand and you mindlessly return the volume, wringing your fingers. Deep breath.

“I…sometimes glow.”

He blinks. Nods for you to continue. Bite your lip.

“It’s only really been my hands…” you say quietly, “but they glow, quite brightly, sometimes. It’s kind of green…maybe a bit yellow? —like Starfall.” He nods again, silently telling you to continue. Tongue flicks out to lick your lips, finding them dry. “That’s…it.” Shift on your feet.

“When did it first happen?” He asks, causing you to perk up again.

“Maybe a month…” —his brows narrow— “or a fortnight ago? I’m sorry, I can’t really…” He nods in understanding. “That’s fine,” he reassures, easily sustaining the weight of the thick volume. Gestures to his desk. You follow him around the furniture obediently. Heart flutters when he motions for you to sit in the chair. His chair.

“Do you remember what you were doing when you first started glowing?” He asks, though his voice is a distant pleasure in your mind. Attempting not to lose your mind as his warmth wraps around you, his scent seeping into your clothing, seeping into your skin.

Your name sounds on his tongue, and you blink, looking up at him. Blink away the fogginess. “Would it be easier to talk elsewhere?” He suggests, gently. Shoulders a little stiff. You swallow, hurriedly shaking your head, “no, I’m fine…just remembering.”

He nods, “if you want to move, that’s fine.” You nod back. Pry your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “It was when we went to the… With Elain? To…” Lips press together. She was going to see Lucien. Hazel flickers briefly, but he waves it off, gesturing for you to continue. Heart flutters. Swallow again.

“And…you know I ended up in the river?” You ask, gently. Dips his head in response. Bite your lip in embarrassment. “Well, I got…quite angry about it.” Surprise lights his eyes, but he keeps his mouth shut, allowing you to finish speaking. Nod to yourself slowly, “and I got back up onto the path and…hit…him.” Dip your head, peering down at your feet, anxiety twisting sharply in your gut. Nausea rising. “Please don’t let him know I told you. He’ll probably be furious if—”

A surprised laugh cuts you off, making you look up at him.

There’s a dimple to one corner of his lips, the edges curved upward, and he’s laughing. Hand covering his mouth, attempting to quiet himself. You stare.

Air ceases flowing.

Mirth dances in his hazel gaze, while the laughter stops as quickly as it started, but… You stare. Eyes lock. You can’t look away.

Azriel gestures for you to carry on. “Go ahead.”

“That was” —clear your throat of the sudden raspiness— “that was the first time it happened.”

“Did Eris see?” He asks, making you stiffen. Yes, he definitely saw.

“I’m not sure…” you hedge, shifting in the seat. “It happened quite quickly, so maybe not?”

“If there was enough time for you to notice, it’s more than likely he did, too,” Azriel reasons steadily, settling back into a strategising mindset. Hard eyes flick to you, “you should have told me this earlier. Why didn’t you say anything on the way back?”

“I was scared,” you whisper. The words out before you can stop them. Humiliation burns through your stomach lining. “Anyway,” you murmur, softly, trying to tuck deeper into the chair. To take up less space in his office. “I only noticed because of the feeling. Not particularly the colour.” Burning is quite difficult to ignore.

Quiet stretches between you, making your nerves wriggle.

“Please don’t be angry,” you manage, looking up at his unreadable features. “I know I should have said something, but I just— There wasn’t a good time,” you finish quietly. Duck your head. You should have told them sooner. “A good time,” he repeats slowly. Processing your excuse.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. Unable to look at him.

Azriel sighs deeply. Flexes his hands. Folds his arms. “You know you should have said something,” he says at last. Bite the inside of your lip. Nod your head. Quiet stretches. “Any information regarding your magic,” he begins, “is information you should not be giving out. It jeopardises our unified front. Imagine if he had brought it up during a meeting without us knowing. Can you see how that would have gone?” You nod your head again.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. Head hanging between your shoulders.

He sighs, weight settling in your stomach. “Better now than later,” he says at last, and relief crushes into your bones. Shoulder slumping as you settle back into his chair. “You should tell Rhys, or Feyre, whoever you’d prefer, and we can start figuring out what’s going on with your magic. Okay?”

You stare at him. Slowly shake your head. His eyes narrow.

“No,” you mange. “No, I don’t— I’m not telling them.”

“You can’t hide your powers,” he chides, giving you a look that doesn’t settle well in your stomach. “You’ve told me. It’s no different.”

“No,” you repeat. Still shaking your head.

“Then I’ll have to tell them.”

“No,” you say, panic working its way into your throat. “No, you can’t.”

“I can,” he counters, “it’s the right thing to do.” Eyes narrow, “why are you against it?”

“I was there, you know,” you remind, gripping tight to the chair. “When Nesta—” Cut yourself off. Try again, softer. “When she was deteriorating.”

“I can promise you won’t be forced to train relentlessly every morning. That was solely to give her something to latch onto.” His brow narrows, watching you intently. “And she’s done well. Very well. You shouldn’t be scared of becoming like her.”

“Give me a month,” you ask, hands gripping the arm rests either side of the chair. “Give me a month, and if I haven’t worked anything out, I’ll tell them.” Azriel pauses, marking the trembling of your fingers.

“A week,” he offers.

“A fortnight,” you counter, joints practically splintering in your knuckles.

Hazel glitters in the low light. Then he nods, reluctantly. “A fortnight.”

————

Arms ache from the bound volume. Dust motes shooting out as it thumps on your desk—pushed up against the wall.

Cough, waving away the particles. Sit down. Stare at the anthology with dull eyes.

It’ll be exciting once you start. Just open the first page, and you’ll be alight again.

(A fortnight.)

Spine creaks as you flip open the book; your brow dips. There should be a stamp of some kind—an indentation to say where to return it to. It’s always right on the inside, yet there’s nothing here.

Frown deepens, running fingers over its insides, tracing the ribbing. It’s thicker than you’re accustomed to. Nails catch a the edges; you blink. Slide deeper, carefully prying the paper from the edge, as if it’s been stuck down from age.

A dull smile dusts your lips, spotting the stamp you’d been searching for. Triumph sparks and dies in the blink of an eye as you pull the paper from the book—clearly misplaced.

Ink catches you attention. Probably an annotation from some past scholar. Raise it to the light to see clearly.

Heart stutters. Take in the clean, elegant script.

Hello, cygnet.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog

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[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Epilogue: Sweet Taste

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: How it all boiled down.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 1k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: mentioned death, violence, weapons

a/n: and with this, we've reached the end of supercharged!! that is surreal to me🤯here's a reminder to those of you who may have already reblogged the masterlist to keep on your blog for reference (I'm honoured!), you may want to reblog it again now it's completed so all the links are there! since reblogged posts aren't updated on this wonderful site lol🤡 I also want to give a sincere thank you to everyone who had read, especially those who left even a single comment, reblog, tag or ask. this story was a lot of work but also a lot of fun and I'm so happy now I finally shared it! to hear anyone enjoyed it makes it all worth it😊you guys are the absolute best! I hope you enjoyed the ride, though there's still the epilogue to go👀 let me know what your favourite moment of this series has been!💜💜

“More information has emerged after celebrated hero, Bolt, was found murdered in his home yesterday. Another beloved hero, Monsoon, also fell in the same battle.

“The anonymous attackers, who many theorists have already connected with the lair attacked by a monster earlier the same day, have sent several records to our studio, apparently taken from Bolt’s home. They have… requested that we display these on air.”

The screen cut away from the reporter’s face to a series of photographs. Weapons laid out, one by one, labelled in Namjoon’s handwriting with the locations they were stolen from, and the purpose each one served.

Next, a map with several red crosses marked on it; the places Bolt had attacked, and several more he planned to. Your home was one of them.

There were other files on the drive Jin had mailed to them. Detailing Bolt’s plans, his building of weapons and allowing them to be used to justify his ‘confiscation’. Jin had been careful not to record too much, but it painted a grim picture nonetheless. Had Bolt been preparing to rule the city?

You knew there would be people out there who would never shake their star-studded image of Bolt. But there would be others ready to see him for the monster he was. All that mattered was that you had all shaken up the grip he held over this city.

The last clip that jumped on screen was from only the night before. Of course, Bolt had cameras. And, in the end, it had turned out to be most useful to you.

“Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

The dark, fuzzy image shifted into static. The next voice was your own.

“You did this to me.”

Another cut.

“You were nothing before I gave them to you…”

It faded to black again. Good. It was past time for the people to start questioning the man they had idolised for too long. The man who would have thrown their lives away, too, the moment they happened to be in his way.

The reporter’s face returned, looking grave.

“This has left citizens wondering: who was Bolt really? Was he truly as heroic as he seemed?

“But it remains to be seen how we can stay safe in the wake of his demise.

“Next up, we report from the scene of a spate of attacks in the early hours since the hero’s death was announced. And stay tuned to hear from the families who say their loved ones died needlessly when working for Bolt-”

The screen flashed off and you turned to find Hope lowering the remote, hand on hip.

“Good to know the tv still works!” he beamed.

Snorting, you followed him over to the kitchen. The table had been set upright again. All in all, the scene was only partially being lit by the hole in the roof, most of which Jimin had already pieced back together.

An intimidating amount of dust and debris remained to be cleared, but you were sure Yoongi would just hide it by making the space look extra bright and fresh until someone could be bothered to pick up a vacuum cleaner (which may well be buried itself).

Oh yes – Yoongi. You were sure he would be playing his usual lighting tricks again… once he was strong enough. After seeing to Bolt’s fate, he was the first place you had all run to. Hobi and V had already been at his side. You remembered the crushing dread in your chest at seeing their faces, the tightness with which you squeezed Jungkook’s hand.

All you had to do to quell the memory of that feeling was cast your eyes over your white-haired friend. He sat at the table, sagging a little wearily onto his elbows, but grinning begrudgingly up at a giggling Jin and Jimin.

He was alright.

Jungkook sat across from the injured Yoongi, staring just as intently. You knew the protective fire that burned in him for his team, because the same one lived in you. And you had walked through that fire enough times, finally ending up on the right side of it.

Sliding into the seat beside him, you wordlessly put your hand on his back. Let it drift to circle his waist.

Jungkook’s fingers loosened their death grip on his mug, gaze shifting to you. You felt his sigh more than heard it, his back relaxing where you held it. Together you shared a smile.

Although perhaps it wasn’t quite as private as you first thought, because a second later Jin was thumping another mug loudly onto the tabletop. Jumping, you sheepishly turned away from Jungkook and accepted the drink Jin pushed towards you.

“Right!” The eldest clapped his hands to gather attention now that you were all here. “Y/N and I have made some good progress checking inventory. The ceiling seems to be… looking up!” (you all groaned as he erupted into his squeaky laugh) “We’ll be settled back in in no time – with no one to bother us.”

“Quite,” Namjoon agreed. For perhaps the first time, when he turned to face you, you were certain you read pride there. “With Bolt and Monsoon out of the picture, we’ll let Pheonix take their place.”

“So, nothing much to worry about at all!” Jimin chimed in, to a round of chuckles. Even Namjoon gave him an indulgent smile.

A grin of your own on your face, you sipped your drink, welcoming its flavour which nestled beside the sweet taste of revenge curled in your gut. Even with a gap letting fresh air in through the roof, you felt warm all over. Mostly from the heat of the arm pressed against yours.

You couldn’t imagine keeping your distance from Jungkook ever again. Having been victim of his fierce fight so many times, you knew you could always rely on it now he stood by your side.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey💜What was your favourite moment?

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taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344 @ot7stansthings

@thesmeraldogirl @fr0ggieth1nk

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

i really enjoyed your yandere allie’s being broken up with post! could you do one for a yandere 2p axis as well? thank you in advance :) sincerely, a yandere lover

(Y/N) stood in the doorway, a bursting duffle bag digging into her left shoulder while her hands tightly grasped the strap. Licking her lips, she murmured.

“I-I can’t do this anymore. We’re over.”

Japan: Kurai’s dull, garnet eyes slowly drifted from the paperwork on his dark, cherrywood desk to his Sakura blossom. He noticed the crystal tears that threatened to bubble over like an unspoken plea for mercy, terrified quivers that made her shake and tremble like a kitten left to die in the coldest December blizzard.

A shark-like smirk split his face as he cooed her pet name. “We have only three days until we are wed, do you really want to dishonor your family by calling it off?”

Trying to leave Kurai’s web is like trying to pull a live rat off a glue trap. He will manipulate you into staying by pulling at your sense of duty. It starts by mentioning all the people who will be disappointed should you two split. If you continue to insist that you are done. Then it will begin to get violent.

Kurai drags you with a bruising grip to a hidden white room, the door locking as he leaves you in isolation. For two weeks all you see is white, even the very food and dishes become that vile color.

At the lock’s click and hinge's squeak, you hoped in vain that Kurai had come to his senses. Finally letting you leave this hell. In reality, you saw red. A lot of red, of much so that he claimed it was to shine the honor that your ‘threat’ had tarnished.

Germany: Groaning, Luther popped his neck with a loud crack as he raised his scarred body from the worn, leather couch. His blond brow raised in a questioning manner. “What are jou talking about?”

He watched with cold, tired eyes as (Y/N) took a deep breath before forcing the horrible statement again from her throat like a lion cub’s first roar.

Chuckling, Luther shook his head as he held his out his calloused hand.

 “Come now, Kätchen. Let’s nap on it before we do anything.”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) backed up. She screamed a loud no, before sprinting down the hall. Her bag swung and bruised her hip as slammed against the wooden door and fumbled with the slippery knob.

The click of the locking mechanism quickly became a loud slam as the door was forced to close again. (Y/N) now frozen still from the man she was trying to escape.

“Vhat made jou think I was asking?”

Luther is quick to forgive. A simple bow to his demands will quell his anger in ways that could be used against him. IF, he wasn’t already suspicious of all behaviors leading up to your foolish declaration. The missing objects, full cardboard boxes hidden in the closet, and failed attempts at distancing yourself from him.

Your announcement is what causes the iron fist to finally drop.

Similar to the ‘fighting and married’ bit, he begins with house arrest while retrieving all the items you’ve sneaked out. Any found attempts of planning to escape will lead Lutz to become more controlling and to harsher punishments.

What makes it worse, is that even on the darkest nights, locked in the rusted, gilded cage and draped in heavy, silver chains, Luther will remain outside the door. Murmuring promises of a better life and love, if only you agree to stay and obey. Forever.

Prussia: It had been two weeks since Wilheim let (Y/N) go. Two weeks of hoping she would return, of hoping she would realize how deeply their souls were intertwined. Fourteen days he had been pained by a wounded heart, that felt like each weak beat may be its last without his Maus.

He could bear it no longer when he watched as she set off with another man. The bright laughter and innocent blushes told him all he needed to know. With the flutter of his cloak, Wilheim set out to reclaim what he had lost.

Wilheim’s long, blood-stained life has taught him a lot. One such lesson is the use of free will. He hopes by letting you go for a time that you will come back, but as the time goes on without even a text from you, Wilheim begins to crack.

His cracks start small by stalking and recording. But as he hears how happy you are to be away and the proud compliments from friends about escaping the abuse, they become large fissures within his psyche

The last straw is your attempt to move on. That was the night he drags you back once the date is done. Questioning you on why you would betray him, did the time you spent together mean nothing?

With eyes like a burning ocean, Wil will force you into a small cell. Its tight walls only allow you to stand or sit. As the days wear on, you’ll find yourself taking comfort in Wilheim by your own volition.

He is the only one to open the door. So, doesn’t he deserve your love?

Austria: Jon cocked his head in a similar fashion to his little bat. Observing her intently as (Y/N) shuffled. She, at first, might have thought it was cute until a demonic laugh erupted from his pale throat. Heavy heaves for breath causing his chest to sink in showing his ribs in the tight, red shirt before expanding outward like an organic balloon, that no one could properly fill.

“That’z a funny yoke meine Queen.” Jon wiped a tear from his red eyes. “But, vhile jou here, did jou pick a place for dinner?”

(Y/N) shook her head quickly and muttered a no. “I-I’m breaking up with you, don’t you understand that?”

A loud sigh came from Jon as he stood from the leather couch. His heeled boots clicked against the wooden floor as closed the distance on the cowering woman.

“Of course I do, but” he looked at his shiny, black polished nails. “if jou really vant to, zhen go for it. Juzt don’t be zurprized vhen zomeone dizappearz.”

Jon lives in an odd mix of delusion and reality. He will take the smallest acts of obedience and view it as you submitting to and loving him. Every moment of rebellion shows him how far he still has to go until you are ready to be his Queen of the Night.

Since, you’ve decided to walk out the front door, consider the threat now a prophecy. He will start with the disappearance of a close friend. At first, you may dismiss it, until a body is found and the red words ‘come home’ are painted on the alley wall.

During your mourning, you try to tell the police of the possible lead. That Jon may be the cause of it all. Yet, it all falls on deaf ears as they explain that man doesn’t exist.

You, wanting justice, decide to confront him and run to his home, expecting a fight. Instead, you find an open door that reveals a dark house. Stepping inside, you feel a cold chill and gasp as the door shuts behind you, locking you in. Before you continue your forced path forward, you notice the shadows move like dancing snakes.

A quick glance and scratching at the light switch reveal no working lights. You scream when you feel the first shadow latch onto your ankle. Attempting to pull you through the floor. Shaking and pulling doesn’t help as more attach, eventually pulling you into an inky blackness. Ensuring that Jon’s pale skin is the brightest thing you see in your world of eternal night.

Spain: Armando’s eyes slowly lifted from the stacks of paper in front of him. His quill rested limply against his rough fingers as he took (Y/N)’s form in wholly.

 He noted her straight lip tremble at its edges, the subtle scrapping of her nails over the nylon bag straps as his silence continued. She shuffled an inch back whenever he twitched or breathed too loud, before shakily regaining the lost ground. Though, she remained tense, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

His question shattered the silence like a hammer to a mirror.

“You want to leave me?”

“Y-yes, I do.” She nodded as her heels dug against the wooden floor.

“Well,” Armando stood before walking to a large glass and oak display case. His hand gripped the wooden handle as he opened it, reached in, and pulled out a large, silver axe. “I think that we should let a simple game decide our fate.”

This man isn’t going to let you go. End of story.

But! That doesn’t mean it will be a simple no with slices to disable your legs. No, Armando doesn’t work that way. He’ll have fun by forcing you to play a game, his favorite to be specific.  Axe throwing.

If you are one to see the dark side of his world from the beginning, then you’ll know that your chances are low, even if you have thrown axes before. He won’t play fair, offering damaged axes and using a target that is just a little too far out of reach.

Most likely, you were kept in the dark. Not fully knowing the amount of blood that stained his hands. Your axes are sharp, but the target itself is dry, hardwood. Your muscles were never meant to throw with the power to dent such a mass, and it didn’t. You could only watch in fear as Armando hit consistently a bull’s eye each time from a different angle.

Depending on how badly you lose will determine what comes next. If Armando absolutely destroyed you, then he’ll keep his punishment simple. A quick snip to one of your Achilles tendons and being locked in a room with minimal contact for a couple of weeks with only him to rely on will help subdue your fire without snuffing it.

If you presented a challenge to him, then it would be worse. A debilitating injury to hinder your chances of escape mixed with a strict schedule of labor on the farm and obedience training. This mix will drown any thoughts of rebellion, leaving behind a fearful shell of yourself that is easier to control.

Italy: The silence of (Y/N)’s statement reverberated off the walls as Luciano set his wine glass on the dining room table. His leather-gloved hands came together to intertwine as a chinrest while he leaned back into the wooden chair—a large grin on his face as he sized up his darling fiancée.

“What made you think that was your call? When you agreed to be mine,” He stood, slamming his hands down as he leaned forward on the table, the taunting smile turned to a vicious snarl in a mere blink. “It meant until the day the world stopped turning when Italia would be wiped off the map and forgotten about by the fragile minds of mortal men. NOT because you got cold feet! NOT W-“

“I NEVER AGREED TO THE BLOODSHED!” She sobbed; the dam of emotions finally bursting. “You are nothing more than a monster that feeds off the mutilated flesh of your victims. Always looking for an excuse to kill again!”

(Y/N)’s declaration shocked Luciano like he had been bitten by a hidden viper. His eyes were wide as his focus never left the woman he loved.

She backed up a few steps. Hesitance caused her frame to tremble, before she turned her back to him. “I’m leaving, goodbye.”

It was only a few steps before the sound of maniacal laughter accompanied the sound of whistling metal. 

(Y/N) gasped, before collapsing. As the laughter came closer, she saw three knives embedded within her flesh. All lay within her lower half, making the mere thought of running from the mad Mafioso impossible.

“Oh, Tesoro.” Her head snapped up to view the smiling Italian. “You’ll be staying with me forever.”

After your shouting match and injury, Luciano will decide it's time to retrain. After all, you’ve shown him that your loyalty was false. Nothing more than a piece of tin that needed to be forged into something stronger. Something steadfast.

He will take the time to rebuild you. Each step toward what he wants means healing, rebellion just creates additional injury. Eventually, you’ll either break into a creaked and numbed doll, or you’ll be the perfect wife, trustworthy enough to join Luciano in the flames.

Romano: (Y/N)’s stomach flipped as Fabrizio stepped closer, his questions ignored as she turned her back. She was ready to run, pushing her legs to their limit as she forced her stride to be at its max.

It wasn’t enough.

A small dart with a fuzzy tip, no thicker than the graphite of a #2 pencil and no longer than a standard ballpoint pen, had sailed into her thigh.

The mosquito-like sensation caused her to pause. Gingerly, (Y/N) tapped the object, before pulling it free. As she stared at it the world began to blur and sway. One dart became two, then four and more. Her attempts for balance failed as a numbing sensation crawled from the hit point.

Falling due to weakened legs, (Y/N) gasped as the marble floors caught her. She heard Fabrizio speaking, his voice muffled as blackness started to flood from her periphery. As the drug took its hold, the last thing she felt was the warmth of her devil’s hands.  

To Fabrizio, it was a sin to end the relationship. He has done so much for you; creating fabulous outfits, spoiling you with various luxuries, and most important of all gifting you something precious, his love. When you ended it, allowing him no time to rebuttal, he threw away his dramatic flair. A quick shot of a special sedative, and you’re down and out.

As you’re fainting, Fabrizio will give his monologue. He rants about how he won’t allow one of the purest things to grace him to just walk away. No, it was time you learned your place.

When you finally awake, the world feels off. Firstly, you’re upright with legs bound to steel bars. Secondly, it’s a new, strange room. Your stand is surrounded by glass-encased mannequins, all dressed in outfits from many different eras. Some outfits go back further than the Dark Ages.

A subtle tightening sensation on the chest would distract you. Taking away from the strangeness of the room. Looking down you would see a white, velvet corset with silver steel rivets. Your breath quickened as the constriction continued, while your arms felt paralyzed. Black spots would reappear in your vision as a hushed chuckle brushed against your ears.

“Mia Bambola, it’s-a time you learn to listen.”

[bloomingdayswithyou]

OMG THAT IS PERFECT! Because hands down Lucas owned MAW era the whole concept and MAU itself was a amazing and they were clearly going for a genie in the lamp, Arabian Nights, Aladdin theme and one of Lucas' outfits just screams ALADDIN to me and so I was gonna ask if I could request for an Alddin AU with Lucas as Aladdin and the male reader as Jasmine and for a fun twist Jackson Wang is gonna be the genie (if you don't write for Jackson you can surprise me with who you prefer the genie to be or which ever character and idol you wanna add I just love Jackson and Lucas duo lol ;)) I love Aladdin both the 1992 animated version and the 2019 live action adaptation so I wanna be surprised with what you can come up with, take us to A Whole New World and have fun! Thanks in advance!🧞‍♂️✨️🌌🌙🐒🩵🐅

A Whole New World

Pairing: Aladdin!Lucas x Jasmine!Male!Reader (feat. Genie!Jackson)

Word count: 609

Warnings: none

Author’s note: I’m a bit more familiar with Aladdin but still it’s been a while since I’ve watched it!! I tried my best

In the bustling city of Agrabah, Lucas and m/n had become inseparable. Their love had flourished and taken root, weaving a tapestry of passion and devotion that seemed to defy the constraints of time. Their secret meetings in the palace gardens had now become cherished traditions, a sacred place where they could share their dreams and fears without the judgment of the outside world.

One evening, as they strolled through the moonlit gardens, Lucas playfully plucked a flower from a nearby bush and tucked it behind the m/n's ear. "You look even more enchanting with this," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. The m/n chuckled, his heart warmed by Lucas's charm. "And you look like a prince out of a fairy tale," he replied, admiration shining in his eyes.

Lucas smiled, his heart swelling with happiness. "You know, sometimes I feel like this is all a dream. That I'm just a street rat who stumbled upon a palace and found the most incredible person in the world," he confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. The m/n took Lucas's hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "You are so much more than that, Lucas. You are my world," he said, his voice soft and tender.

In that moment, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Panic washed over them as they realized they were no longer alone. Quickly, they pulled away from each other, trying to compose themselves. To their surprise, it was the genie, Jackson, who had appeared before them, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, young love. It's a beautiful sight to behold," he said, his voice warm and teasing.

Lucas felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but he couldn't deny the happiness that filled his heart. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" he asked, trying to sound playful despite his nerves. Jackson laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fear not, my dear master. Your secret is safe with me. I am here to grant your wishes, not to meddle in your love affairs," he replied, waving his hand theatrically.

M/n chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Jackson. We appreciate your discretion," he said, his gaze lingering on Lucas, who smiled back at him. "Oh, it's my pleasure! You two make quite the enchanting pair," Jackson said, his tone sincere. "Now, if there's anything else you desire, just give me a shout. I'll be off, then!" With a theatrical bow, he disappeared into a puff of smoke.

As they watched the genie vanish, Lucas and m/n couldn't help but laugh. "He's something else, isn't he?" Lucas remarked, shaking his head in amusement. "He certainly is," m/n agreed, his heart filled with gratitude for the magical friend who had brought them together.

In the days that followed, Lucas and m/n continued to explore the depths of their love, finding joy in the simple moments they shared. They reveled in each other's presence, discovering new facets of their personalities with each passing day. Their love remained a secret, known only to the stars that watched over them and the genie who had inadvertently played a part in their love story.

Yet, as much as they cherished their stolen moments, they longed for a day when they could openly express their love for each other without fear of judgment or repercussions. In their hearts, they knew that their love was worth fighting for, that the world deserved to witness the magic they had found in each other's arms.

And so, they held onto hope, knowing that someday, they would be able to dance through the streets of Agrabah hand in hand, with the entire world celebrating their love. For now, though, they found solace in the quiet intimacy of their secret love, knowing that they had a love that was as vast as the desert sands, as bright as the stars in the night sky, and as enduring as a tale passed down through generations.

.

.

.

[almostwisegalaxy]

The glory

Ha Do Young x reader

Part 3

Two weeks later

Dong-woon and I left enough clues for Ha Do-yeon's mind to question her child's paternity. Normally he should come today and collect the results. I don't think I'll be there when he comes. I work nights, my shift ends at 8am and I have 30 minutes to drop Chin off at school.

Ha Do Young's point of view

My hands are sweaty and I'm stressed. It's only 6:30 in the morning, but I'm going to the clinic to get the results of this damn test. Find out if Ye-sol is my blood, if my marriage is based on a complete lie. As soon as you arrive, I go to the reception and ask for documents.

“Yes, here are the results of the genetic test, Mr. Thank you for using our services.”

I sat down in the waiting room and decided to open the envelope. I try, but nothing works. My vision is blurry and my hands are shaking. "Excuse me, is there a doctor who can read the results now?" »

"Yes, of course. It's the third door on the right."

When I opened the door, I saw Mr. Yu concentrating on what appeared to be a patient's medical papers.

"I'm sorry to disturb you this early."

“Oh, I'm fine. "What should I do for you?"

"Can you read his results? I'm afraid of misinterpreting them."

"Yes, please sit down."

"These results demonstrate 0% genetic identity between the two individuals."

“………… Thanks, I think I should go..."

Pov pov

Yes but no

he fainted

“Mr Ha, can you hear me?

I have no response. I expected him to be shocked by the news, but not so shocked as to faint. . He should wake up soon, right?

later in the day

It is 10 p.m. when I return to resume work with one of my colleagues. When I left this morning, Mr. Ha couldn't wake up, so I left that to the nurse, and he was very pale, so I asked him to give me an IV. And when I came back to my office, it was still as inert as it was hours ago.

The clinic isn't very busy tonight, so I'm going to see a few patients first. Some get a prescription and leave immediately, while others are kept in a room overnight due to their condition. I will go back to Mr. Ha. I stopped noticing his upper body movements, so I lowered myself to bed level to check for lice. I put my hand on his neck and looked at the clock. Yes, he is breathing quite normally. And at that moment he decided to wake up, put his hands on his neck and looked into mine. From this point of view, it looked like two people about to kiss.

"You're finally awake. I'm starting to worry."

"Why am I here?"

"You came for tests and due to lack of food, I guess you passed out"

He let go of my hand and we both sat down

" What time is it ?"

"11:40 p.m."

He tried to pull the IV out of his hand but I stopped him by putting my hand on it.

"Don't do this, you don't have enough iron and you could fall at any movement"

"You don't understand. I have to fix something at home"

"I know you must be worried about your daughter, but I don't think confronting your wife about it right now is good for your health."

"Because in addition to being a doctor, you are a marriage counselor?" I don't think a single mother knows what to do in this situation!

"Forgive me, I-"

"Okay. Take that needle off if you want so much you hit your face on the next stairs you'll see later. Get out of here" I said as I left the room.

"Miss Yu wait" but there was no time. I slammed the door in his face.

Dong Eun I hope you manage on your side because what I have is rat bowl

I slipped away 2 hours later and found him STILL there, lying staring at the ceiling. Let him do what he wants. I sat in the chair behind the desk, with my back to him, to study the somewhat complicated case of an undiagnosed woman.

Ha Do Young pov

"Miss Yu, I sincerely apologize to you. I should never have talked to you like that, especially since you were trying to help me"

" Hmm"

"And I also apologize for yelling at you. It was anger but I know it shouldn't have been directed at you"

" Hmm "

"You still won't talk to me?"

" Hmm"

"Can I at least ask you a question?"

" Hmm "

"How did you know I took a paternity test?"

"I was wondering what was the cause of your sudden unhealthiness and I got the information from the lab technician"

I say nothing more to collect my ideass. I don't know if I'm angry or sad right now. Well I blame yeon jin for lying to me but I don't know. From the beginning I suspected an extra marital relationship but I didn't dwell on it more than that. After all she fit the but gender standard and my mother had happily given her approval to the wedding announcement so I thought it was already good enough to live out the rest of my life. But I was seriously mistaken.

"What...what would you do if it was you in this situation?"

"I will do everything to keep my child. If eventually I still love him so much"

" But how to do it ?"

"It's simple. I turn his brain over to him in order to acquire proof of any mental instability of my spouse and the other in case he wants to recover the child following the divorce. But after that it's not that the opinion of a mother who raises her child alone does not take it into account "

"Sorry again for-"

" Excuse rejected. What do you think? Raising a child alone is easy? I have no one to trust my son to when I'm not around. I'm carrying my child just to have enough money to give him what he deserves. So I don't allow anyone to judge me. Is that clear?" She is now facing me speaking. I decide to get up to talk to him

"I can't say otherwise. I see how hard you are working for both of you and my words were very inappropriate. I don't know if you could forgive me"

"I think you'd better leave if you feel up to it"

" All right." I gather my things and get ready to leave. " Bye"

After leaving the hospital at dawn, I just went home to change. Ye-sol and her mother are still sleeping. It's better this way, I don't know how it's going to end if we talk. I am working at the moment. I just finished one and I'm so tired. I have too many thoughts swirling around in my head. But I don't want to think about anything. I just want to have my daughter with me, even if she's not really mine.

And this conversation with Ms. Yu ohhh. I hate this tension that has set in. I can understand his reaction to my comment. Basically, I always avoid unnecessary arguments, especially with those around me, so this situation makes me sad.

I decide to pick up Ye-sol from her school to spend some time with her and see if I still love her as much as before. The road from the company to the elementary school passed by the path of Ms. Yu's son Chin, I looked around not expecting to see anything special except for the little one sitting under the tree in front of the school. But what can he be doing at this hour outside. I got out of the car to go see him but noticed a few other kids around him.

"See, I told you. No one will come looking for him because he doesn't have a father."

“Bouu has a little chin without a father bouuu” “yes a bastard”

"Fuck bastards!" They screamed in their hearts but upon noticing me they ran away.

Chin was lying on the ground, his back to me. Looks like they pushed him. He tries not to cry, it shows. I leaned over to him and started a discussion with him.

“Did you hurt my little one?

"No...... Just a little crack on the knee"

"Okay, and can you tell me what you do outside of school?"

"The teacher has to go there urgently. The director called all the parents to come and take us home but mum didn't answer"

"but why aren't you in the yard, safe."

"It's them...... They like to bother me and hurt me. And I don't want to wait with them"

" OK. Uhh how about I take you to see your mom?

"You would do that?"

"Of course. I just need to take my daughter and go. Do you trust me?"

"No, But I Want to See Mom"

"so let's go see her"

I took her hand, bandaged her knee and we were on our way. Once at the hospital, I drove two toddlers across the street. Upon arriving, he knocked on the door and we heard a voice

"Yes who is it?"

"Hello, it's me momma" he says running to throw himself on the mother who has just caught up with him

"Yes and us too" ye-sol greeted her from inside the room

“Hey kids, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class? "

"Madam must have come home early"

"My father came to get me"

"And he scratched his knee" I said

"Pardon ?"

Then she examined his wound, disinfected it and put a bandage on it. Meanwhile, ye-sol fetches snacks from the vending machine further away.

"How did you do that? Honey"

"Other kids push me"

"And why are they doing this?"

"He just likes to annoy me. It's nothing serious, momma."

"No, from what I could see, it's not just adispute. This is harassment", I said

"And maybe you know why he harassed you?" He immediately bowed to his mother's words, as if he had been mistaken.

"Chin answers mom" she told him, she gently grabbed his shoulder "my chick?"

"........They say I'm a bastard......That I don't have a father and that's why I'm going to end my life in school. I'm sorry mom, I know this is wrong. Anyway, I only need you” and he hugs her.

"You don't have to apologize for that. It's not your fault"

Then Ye-sol came back and offered to take the kids to lunch and bring her son back around the afternoon. She agreed and we left her alone. She really needs it.

___________________________________

hey hi. I don't have many ideas to continue the story, so I prefer to wait for season 2 which comes out soon to get an idea. I hope you like the story. and if you have any ideas. Help me

A perfect family 🫣

Part2:

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now." For Vaxleth

7. "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

Vax is no stranger to all manner of horrors. His body is a symphony of scars, the bars to the score of his attempts at survival, at protecting those he cares about, at making the world a better place. He has seen things no mortal should see, stood witness to atrocities that have shaken his understanding of the world to its core. And yet mostly, he's okay. He's lucky, all things considered, because the people he has surrounded himself with cast such wonderful light into his dark corners, making it impossible to languish in the darkness for too long.

But there's just this one thing. When compared to the rest of the shit he's seen—dragon attacks and bodies swinging from trees and friends sliced in half and his sister, cold and lifeless on the floor—it's nothing. Barely worth discussing. Just one more thing on the pile.

And yet sometimes, in the darkest hours of night, when his dreams turn strange and terrifying, he sees it: the glint of teeth in the moonlight, a beloved face twisting into something monstrous, hands turned the wrong way, sickening, slashing. Terror grips his throat in its massive paw, and this is it. This is how he dies.

He startles awake, sweating and wild-eyed. The room is too dark to see. Something shifts beside him, and the dagger that never leaves its spot beneath his pillow is instantly in his hands.

"Vax?"

Not a tower, but a bedroom. Not Whitestone, but Zephrah. Not the rakshasa, but Keyleth. She rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm, her hair a rat's nest from sleep. "Are you okay?"

He hopes she can't see the dagger shake as he lowers it into his lap. "Yeah. Sorry. Go back to sleep."

The sting of embarrassment whisks the breath from his lungs. Too wise, his Tempest, too good at seeing past his cracked foundation. Slowly, she slides the dagger from him, twists around to set it on her nightstand. Then her hand comes up to card through his hair, which he imagines must be a rat's nest in its own right. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Foolish. Dramatic. He shakes his head, smiles the smile he knows she won't believe. "I'm fine."

A moment later, a scattering of fireflies dance around their heads, and now there really is no hiding from her. Her face is impassable, patient, knowing. She waits for him, must see the way the color rises in his cheeks as it all becomes too much, too quickly. She catches him when he falls, keeps his face in the crook of her neck as he cries for—well, he's not sure what for, if he's being honest. He just cries.

"I'm here," she whispers, her breath warm against his ear. "I've got you. You're safe now."

And he is, which may be the most overwhelming bit of it. He is in their bed, in the home they share, in the town that welcomed him in like a native son. They traveled to the Hells and back and left the rakshasa destroyed, incapable of ever returning to exact his revenge once more, and he will never again need to look into Shaun's face and question what he sees there—but he can't stop fucking crying anyway.

But she doesn't seem to mind. She holds him, lets her fingers play with the ends of his hair as she sways back and forth like a feather on the breeze. Her collar of her nightdress is soaked now, but she doesn't let him pull away, doesn't let him curl in on himself like he wants to. She presses kisses into the shell of his ear, and fuck, Vax can't remember the last time being alive felt like this.

After a few minutes, he gets a hand up to rub at his face, the embarrassed heat still tickling at the base of his throat, and croaks out, "Thank you. Sorry."

The fireflies press in closer, so he can't avoid the sincerity in her eyes when she says, "This is what loving you means, and I choose it every time."

Fuck, fuck. He lets her pull him back down to his pillow, curl into his side as if she were the one who needed to be held together. The fireflies drift off, up and out, until they disperse into darkness. Vax closes his eyes, listens to her breath against his skin, and when he's ready, lets sleep come and claim him once more.

[gina103]

Tiny Treasures (Nathan Drake x tiny!reader)

I know absolutely nothing about the Uncharted series other than the 2022 movie which I literally watched last night. Hopefully, this will get me out of my writer's block. Also note that the reader is female in this!

word count: 675

Nathan had no clue what he was looking at.

Nothing Sully had explained about this mission could've prepared him for this moment. Here he was, in the basement of some billionaire, trying to steal something that was incredibly valuable, and highly sought after by all kinds of rich people and criminals alike. Apparently, this something was worth billions, but Nathan had no idea that this wasn't a something, it was a someone.

You were sat in a bird cage, and you were so incredibly small. Nathan was pretty sure a New York City rat could take you out any day. You trembled in fear at the sight of him, crumpled up in the back of the cage, trying to appear even smaller than you already were. Besides your miniscule stature, you were so perfectly normal-looking, so human in your movements, in your fearful eyes, and in your shaking form. Nathan felt a surge of responsibility in his chest, he couldn't let some billionaire or criminal keep you for their own evil interests, he knew he needed to protect you at all costs.

"Hey Kid, what's the hold up? Whaddya see?" Sully's voice spoke from his earpiece.

Nathan didn't know where to begin.

"Yeah...about that, I don't think we can sell this, Sully."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It's not a thing, it's a girl..." Nathan slowly walked closer to the cage, noticing the way you seemed to shrivel up in utter fear at his presence.

"A girl? Are you joking?"

"Yeah..." He studied the lock on your cage, locking eyes with you in the process. He could only imagine what you had been through so far.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. I'm gonna get you outta here, don't worry," Nathan uttered to you. Even though he lowered his voice, you still flinched.

"Kid? Are you gonna explain, or are you just gonna leave me hanging here?"

Nathan stepped back from the cage to look around for the key. "Listen, Sully, you're just gonna have to see for yourself, I'll see you when I get up there."

"Hey! Wai-" He turned off his earpiece before Sully could finish.

Once he found the key, Nathan bent over before your cage once again. Trying to give you a reassuring look, he put the key in.

"Hey, I know this is all really scary and stuff, but I promise you I want to help. You're gonna have to trust me, ok?"

"How do I know?" You suddenly spoke, catching Nate off guard, "How do I know you aren't just like the others? That you aren't just going to sell me for a profit?"

You stared him straight in the eyes as you spoke, so you were courageous too?

"To tell you the truth, you don't," Nathan answered bluntly, "But I can tell you right now, I will do everything in my power to never let that happen again. It's your choice whether to trust me or not."

You seemed taken aback by his honesty, he opened the cage door and held his palm up, giving you the choice to walk on or not. You had been through so much up to this point, and you knew that trusting other people at this size wasn't a good idea. But something about the sincerity in this gigantic brunette's eyes was melting your resolve.

Nathan's heart leapt when you walked closer to the cage door, he was much happier than he'd liked to admit, you had chosen to trust him.

Slowly, you stepped onto his palm, hoping to God that you wouldn't regret this.

"That's it, you're doing great, sweetheart," He said softly, "My name's Nathan by the way." The sensation of your little body in his hands was positively electric, when you were finally settled, Nathan couldn't help but feel that you fit perfectly there.

Ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the nickname, you looked up into his chocolate brown eyes. "(y/n)," you answered.

"Pleasure to meet you, (y/n)," A smile bloomed on Nathan's face, "Now, let's get outta here."

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 5

Warnings: canon typical shit, Katya being a feisty little shit

Word count: 1600ish

The next morning you are shown to your rooms. They aren’t as opulent as Alina’s, but you prefer them this way. The bed is still too soft, the sheets too smooth, the pillows too plump, but you force yourself to use them anyway. The wardrobe is stocked with functional clothing and 2 black coats that feel suspiciously like corecloth. You’d like to complain about the color, or at least about the assumption in making most of your clothing black, but it really does suit you, so you hold your tongue.

The next few days are relatively monotonous. Alina trains and you follow her around as often as you can. Usually watching from a distance so she doesn’t feel you hovering. She knows you’re there, though, and will wave when she catches your eye. The change in her hasn’t ceased to amaze you. It’s been so long since she seemed truly healthy and now, all of the sudden, she’s grown and strong and powerful in ways you had only ever been able to dream of for her.

Alina’s confidence is yet another thing you are happy to see improve. She is more sure of herself, of her place in the world, more comfortable in her own skin. You’ll never admit it, but you are grateful to the Darkling for keeping her safe and helping her grow. Arguably much of that change has come from Botkin and Baghra, but you catch the General checking in on her every now and then. Offering words of support, constructive criticism, and even praise. 

You still think he should at the very least be stabbed for this flirtation he has with your sister. She’s far too young for him. For now, you have decided to let the fragile peace remain between the 3 of you. You’ll save the stabbing for another day. So long as he keeps his hands to himself, you will allow him to keep his hands.

Today, you are observing Alina spar with a particularly skilled squaller, one you’ve noticed scowling in Alina’s direction frequently. You’re nearby this time, making small conversation with Botkin.

“Do you fight?”

“Often,” you reply with a grin. He gestures to the training field and you shake your head. “I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“You are afraid.” Botkin states and you have the feeling he’s mocking you.

“It wouldn’t be fair for your students.”

“You would deny them the chance to learn?”

You watch the squaller knock your sister on her ass for the 3rd time today and shrug. “When you put it that way, I guess I have to do it now.”

“Who do you choose?”

“Who’s your best?”

“Zoya.” The squaller sparring with Alina looks up at his words.

“Perfect,” you say sincerely.

The two of you enter the circle drawn in the dirt.

“Kick her ass, Kat,” Alina says in your ear as you pass her. You smirk. This should be fun. Saints know you need some stress relief.

“I do have a few years on you, squaller. I’ll go easy on you.” You can’t resist the urge to taunt Zoya.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a no-name street rat. I don’t expect it to be much of a fight.” 

You smile thinly, but you aren’t bothered by her words, and strike first. It’s more of a warning shot than anything, you are unsurprised when she dodges it. Zoya swings a fist towards your jaw and you block it with your left forearm, throwing a punch with your right fist. This one lands and she grimaces, recovering quickly, stepping closer to you and hooking a leg around your own in an attempt to throw you. You let her, but use the momentum of the move to continue rolling the two of you until you land atop her, hand resting on her throat.

“Good match,” you offer your hand out once the two of you are standing.

Zoya ignores it and hisses,” Beginner’s luck.”

“If you wanted a rematch, you only had to ask,” you quip with a shrug.

“Ms. Starkov,” The General calls from Botkin’s side. You and Alina both look towards him. “The elder Ms. Starkov.”

“Saved by your General, princess. Next time I won’t go so easy on you.” The look Zoya gives you might be strong enough to kill a lesser woman. 

You join the General and ask, “What do you need? Sir.” You add the ‘sir’ for the sake of appearances and because you know the Darkling will hear its sarcasm.

“Come take a walk with me, Ms. Starkov.”

You wait until the 2 of you are a safe distance away to begin your usual banter. “Are we going to have another one of our ‘chats’ where you ‘don’t’ try to kill me?”

“Baghra is aware of your ability,” the Darkling said, ignoring you.

“You mean you told her,” you say pointedly.

“Yes. She would like to meet you.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say with glee.

The Darkling turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “That is not the reaction I was expecting.”

“I heard she hits students with her cane, swarms them with bees, and other various tortures. I can’t wait to see what she tries with me.” There’s a skip in your step as you turn yourself around so you walk backwards as you speak with the General. “When does she want to meet me?”

“Now,” the Darkling says.

“Today is turning out great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Oh come on, why are you looking at me like that? I like fucking with bullies. It’s one of my favorite, mostly legal, pastimes.”

“I look forward to hearing how it goes, Ms. Starkov,” he says and you swear he’s trying not to smile.

“You aren’t coming with?” You ask as you arrive by Baghra’s hut.

“Your… conversation with Baghra will likely be more productive without my presence. She and I do not see eye to eye on most things.”

“Really? You don’t get along with someone? That’s super surprising.”

“Very amusing, Ms. Starkov,” the General says dryly.

“I try,” you grin and give him a wink before stepping into the hut and closing the door behind you.

The woman in front of you is both ancient and ageless. Her skin is mostly smooth, but her hair is graying, and her eyes have a depth to them that only time can give.

“Have a seat, girl.”

“You wanted to talk with me,” you prompt as you sit across from her.

“Have some tea,” Baghra orders more than offers.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Hm. So you are the woman who claims to be the Sun Summoner’s sister. I must admit, I fail to see the resemblance.”

“We aren’t related by blood, but we are family.”

“I see. You’ve known her for 10 or so years now, and you’ve never told her about your summoning. It sounds like you don’t trust her very much, for family.”

“So this is your angle then?” You roll your eyes. “Trying to drive a wedge between me and Alina, getting into my head. Very original. Do you have any family, Baghra?”

“This conversation is not about me, girl.”

“My name is Katarina, not girl, and this conversation is very much about you. What is it about you that is so broken you want to break everyone else?”

“How dare you?” Baghra spits out sternly.

“Quite easily. If this little chat doesn’t have a real purpose, then I am going to leave.”

Baghra’s posture relaxes slightly. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“Good.”

“The General tells me you are an adequate shadow summoner.”

“Does he really? High praise coming from him.”

“He also tells me you claim to be self taught.”

“I am self taught, unless you know any other shadow summoners besides the Darkling running around Ravka, I didn’t really have any other option.”

“You taught yourself the Cut.”

“Yes.”

“Shadow-walking?”

“Yes.”

“Simultaneous, multi-limbed movement?”

“Yes.”

“Shields, walls, and barriers?”

“I’m still working on those,” you admit.

“Intriguing. I will teach you from now on.”

“No you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you and I think you are a duplicitous snake,” you respond cheerfully. While Alina may not have picked up on the depths of Baghra’s manipulative nature, you can tell this woman has about a thousand personal agendas just by looking at her. Much like the General, though you find Baghra to be more off putting. 

“You don’t know me, girl.”

“I trust my instincts.”

“Do you truly believe the Darkling to be a superior instructor? That he does not have any ulterior motives for everything he says and does?”

“Oh I’m certain he does.”

“Very well. I will not force you to stay.”

“Good, I don’t do very well with being forced into things.” With that, you get up and leave. You’re surprised to see the General still waiting for you on the other side of the door.

“You’re still here.”

“That was quicker than I expected.”

“Were you expecting me to drink the drugged tea?” 

The Darkling looks surprised. “I was not aware you knew about her tea drugging habits.”

“Alina told me. Don’t you think allowing her to beat, terrorize, and drug your soldiers is a bit much?”

“I admit some of her methods may be extreme at times, but they are effective.”

“If you have to harm a child to teach them, then maybe you aren’t a good teacher.”

“The world my Grisha grow up in is not good or fair, Ms. Starkov. They are in danger from the moment their abilities manifest. Sometimes cruel and extreme measures are needed to prepare them for that reality.”

“It shouldn’t be that way. Grishenka are training to be soldiers from the moment they arrive. No one should have to be concerned about war that young.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” the Darkling agrees, solemnly. “One day, Grisha will no longer need to fear the world around them. They will no longer live to be soldiers.”

“I hope I live to see that day,” you say earnestly.

“You will, Ms. Starkov.”

**********

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

Series Taglist: budugu, stuffyownswrld, judig92, intothesoul

Shadow and Bone Taglist:

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

[kazachi69]

Christ you’re a bad person. Literally everything could have been avoided if you, from the start, said that you were black. I hope glitch realizes how manipulative and disgusting you are and drops you

TLDR: No anon. Not everything would have been avoided, especially in regards to glitchy.

If me wanting to keep private information about myself, on the internet of all places, private makes me a bad person and a manipulator, then we might as well be in hell.

I couldn't give two shakes of a rats ass what you think of me, I didn't involve nor want glitchy to be involved in this. I'm not the one that dragged them into this, if you've noticed, and its not like I could have prevented it even if I knew they would be.

In regards to being "manipulative," as you so claim, I can't control anyone as much as you wish to believe I can.

No matter how you choose to view what I could have done better, at the end of the day, it was Melo who chose to involve Glitchy. Hypothetically, even if I said I was black from the start, they probably would have still made a post about Glitchy and not handled it in private. They would have still sent that apology ask, and would have still sounded hypocritical in that ask. It would just be weird if they wouldn't in this hypothetical because; A, they already did; B, they clearly chose to think about this for a long time and came to that conclusion regardless of what they thought of me.

Even more so than melo and I. It was all of you who chose to assume.

You all went after them, you all chose to believe blindly the things said about Glitchy. Even if you took me out of the equation, it doesn't change that. Trying to push the blame on me for your own collective misguided actions towards glitchy is abhorrently childish, and extremely disappointing.

TLDR 2: Even if things were easier on me, I sincerely doubt--considering Melo's actions with Glitchy in particular-- that they wouldn't have still gotten harassed. You made your choices too.

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (68)

Series Master list

"Your plan is idiotic," Sesshomaru says, coolly as he strolls into the dojo. He's wearing his old outfit from the feudal era, minus the spiky armor piece. His mokomoko trails behind him.

Kagome scowls and gives Shippo the look. The look all moms instinctively have. The kind of look that conveys how much trouble their child is in. And right now. Shippo is in so much trouble, it will take nothing short of him bringing Satoru home to soothe things over.

"What plan?" Yuta asks, stretching his arms and then twirling his sword with one hand. He rolls his shoulders back and takes a fighting stance. His dark hair highlights how pale his skin is.

Sesshomaru looks over at Yuta and then blurs out of view. Kagome's heart jumps to her throat as she throws her hands up. A pink barrier envelopes her and Shippo right as Sesshomaru's claws make contact. She gulps and tries to calm her breathing as Sesshomaru inspects his smoking hand.

"Your plan is idiotic. I can hear how fast your heart is beating. The barrier is fine, but only if you can maintain the concentration to keep it up." He pulls out his sword and dashes to Yuta, who barely blocks the attack.

Kagome bites her tongue as her hands drop to rub her stomach, soothing the twins. There's a pulse and her barrier dissipates into a shimmering glitter of pink. Shippo leans forward and picks up a crystal.

"Do your barriers always do this?"

Kagome swallows the lump in her throat and nudges her heart to go back to its rightful place in her chest. "N-no, that's not normal."

She rubs her stomach again. The pulse returns and her cheeks warm. She pats her face. Did the room get warmer?

"Wonder which twin is doing that," Shippo says with a whistle.

"Twins?" Yuta grunts out, falling to one knee as he blocks another attack. "Kagome-san, you're having twins?"

"Focus on me," Sesshomaru says, lifting his sword and spraying acid at Yuta. Yuta rolls to the side and gapes at the hole in the floor where he was just at. "Too slow." Mokomoko grabs a hold of Yuta and dangles him upside down.

Kagome grimaces. Sesshomaru can be quite brutal sometimes. "What if he didn't dodge that last attack?" Her stomach flip flops. Ughhhh, the smell of acid makes her want to hurl. The smell dances across her nostrils and travels down her cavity, settling on her tastebuds.

"Then he'd be dead."

Yuta makes a choked noise and then is promptly thrown into a wall.

"Get up."

"I'm fine right here," Shippo sing-songs. "I like my ass where it is."

"No, you should go." Kagome plucks the crystal out of Shippo's hand and nudges him forward.

"But mama! I didn't even do anything."

"You ratted me out."

"He beat it out of me. Where is the compassion?" Shippo sniffles, but the motion is exaggerated and not at all sincere. He rubs at his eyes with his fists, but no tears come out.

"Priestess, you are too far along to be putting yourself and the pups at risk. If you insist on helping, send a shikigami in your stead." Sesshomaru hits Shippo with his whip.

"This is as bad as training with Gojo-sensei," Yuta complains, dusting his shirt off. "Shit!" He dodges the green whip and lets out a sigh.

Kagome feels a tiny bit sorry for him.

"What's going on—OW! You son of a bitch!" InuYasha shakes one fist while palming his face with his other hand. Splat! Blood hits the floor, and Sesshomaru looks far too smug. "I wasn't fucking ready for you to attack me!"

"Because you're an idiot," Sesshomaru says, brushing his hair back, before flinging an attack at Yuta and Shippo.

"Ummm, maybe we should go back," Yuji says, taking a seat next to Kagome. Megumi grunts.

"How are you doing, Nanami-San?" Kagome tucks the crystal into her hoodie pocket—okay, Satoru's hoodie.

"Better thanks to you." Nanami crosses his arms and leans against the wall. "So, this is the strength of a demon?"

"A little. Sesshomaru's being pretty nice to them."

"NICE!" Megumi and Yuji exclaim.

"Sesshomaru-sama, will you be participating in the culling games then?" Yuji asks.

"This Sesshomaru cares not for what happens to humans." He blocks an attack from Yuta, kicks Shippo into InuYasha, and then drops low to sweep Yuta off his feet, and rams his claws into Yuta's gut. "Heal yourself. We will finish this after dinner."

"A-after dinner?" Yuta squeaks out, as his blood stains the floor.

"However," Sesshomaru continues, sheathing his sword. "The imprisonment of one of my own cannot go unpunished."

"I'll go," InuYasha says, pushing Shippo off of him.

"Sorry," Yuji interrupts, "but when you say the imprisonment of one of your own…"

"He's talking about Satoru, sweetie." Kagome pats Yuji's head. "Satoru is my mate, which makes him pack."

"Which means we can't let this go unchecked. Yada, yada, yada." Shippo mimics puppets with his hands as he rolls his green eyes. "Permission to kill the higher ups now? I appoint myself as the next lead."

"Granted, and no."

"Why not?" Shippo whines, tail drooping.

"I'd sooner put the wolf in charge." Sesshomaru holds out his bloody hand and steam rises, leaving behind a clean hand. "Kagome."

"Ohhh no," Kagome says, as she crosses her legs to get more comfortable. "I'm gonna be far too busy with these kiddos to be making those kinds of decisions." She sucks in a breath, closes her eyes, and imagines two shikigami. It doesn't hurt to try, even though Sesshomaru's words sting.

"Kagome, what the fuck are you doing?"

She peeks open one eye and then the other in shock at two large eggs in front of her. Talk about the world's most useless shikigami. Freaking eggs. Her shoulders slump as she blows a breath.

Megumi rises and hoards the eggs in front of him as he takes his place next to Kagome.

Kagome blinks slowly at Megumi. They might be the world's most useless shikigami, but they're her eggs, dang it!

"Where's Nobara?" she asks.

"Back at Jujutsu High with everyone else. She wanted to learn more about soul stuff from Yuki-san. Jaken is with her, so I guess she'll be back." Yuji scratches his cheek. "Speaking of which…is it alright for my brother to come here?"

"You have a brother?" Kagome's brows furrow together. Yuji never once mentioned a brother the entire time he was staying with her and Satoru.

"Yeah…. I didn't know about him either."

POP!

"Eggs aren't supposed to pop," Yuta comments, holding his stomach.

"Nothing about this place is normal," Nanami mutters.

Kagome ignores them and tilts her body towards Megumi, who refuses to take his eyes off the eggs. The eggs shake.

POP!

A hand pushes through the shell. A leg through the other.

"We're all gonna die," Yuji exclaims. "This is like the making of a horror movie."

A head pops through and Yuji makes a cry that sounds like he's croaking. Big blue eyes stare unblinking at Megumi. Another leg pops out of the other egg and it takes off, running into a wall.

Kagome purses her lips together as she scratches her nose. Great, not only are her shikigami useless, but they're stupid too. She sighs as she struggles to get up off the ground. It's like her stomach grew overnight.

"You can barely get up and you think you really going into battle?" Sesshomaru states as if she asked him for his so unhelpful opinion.

"I'm trying your plan, aren't I?" She slaps her hand on her leg as she walks over to the flailing egg. "It's okay, just calm down," she soothes, rubbing the egg. It shakes and a head full of black hair and the fuzziest cat like ears where normal ears would be, emerges.

"Kagome-san…did you just give birth?"

"You're a dumbass," Shippo chortles. "Since when do humans lay eggs?"

"I've seen some shit!" Yuji exclaims. "Give me a break here."

Kagome helps the shikigami break out of its egg. To be honest, she was expecting something like a phoenix. Not something that resembles a cat girl. She turns her head and blinks at the sight of Megumi, holding a similar cat girl shikigami with white hair.

That's different. She reaches her hand out to the dark-haired one and grabs its hand. Maybe she should name them? Ugh, but she sucks at names. Sesshomaru dashes past her. The hairs on the back of her neck stand. Is he charging at Megumi?

There's a pink light and Sesshomaru is pushed back. The white-haired shikigami in Megumi's arm glares at Sesshomaru. Her nose wrinkles in distaste as the barrier dissipates.

"Megumi-kun," Kagome says, "I know you like to collect things…but that isn't a pet." She frowns. Pet doesn't seem like the right word to use, but these are still shikigami, even if they look more human than others.

Megumi's cheeks turn pink. "I wasn't—" A white smoke cloud appears where the Shikigami was and a white cat with the largest ears possible takes its place. On its back are small wings and it has one long tail like that of a lion.

Kagome clucks her tongue and looks at the other one, who bats its pretty blue eyes up at her. "Can you do that too?" A nod. She huffs. Of course it can and Megumi is already eyeing this one to add to his collection. Buyo Jr. leaps out of Megumi's shadow and puffs up his tails.

Oh boy.

"You know what, guys, I'm just gonna take a nap." Kagome shakes her head as walks towards the door. Nanami calls out to her. She stops and waits for him to ask whatever is on his mind. A series of emotions flit across his face before settling on something akin to acceptance.

"You and Gojo," he says. He pauses, contemplating his words.

She and Satoru what?

"Sukuna has already revealed that you are a priestess," Nanami says. "And considering that demons exist…Did you really fall out of the sky into Gojo's lap?"

Sukuna knows? Well, she hasn't been that subtle. Whatever. "Yep! I was checking out something back at home and the next thing I knew, I was falling. And I've been with Satoru ever since."

Nanami's mouth drops. "He was telling the truth," he mutters in shock.

"How many years have you guys been together?" Yuji asks.

"…Years? It hasn't even been a year." Kagome chuckles. Hasn't been a year, and she's knocked up.

"For fuck's sake," InuYasha groans.

"You mean for fox's sake," Shippo chastises. "You gotta watch your language around the baby shikigami. What if they pick up your bad habits?"

"How about I shove this sword up your ass?"

"First of all, I top. Second—"

"Guys, be quiet for a second," Megumi interrupts as he pulls his ringing phone out of his pocket. Buyo Jr. continues to paw at the cat like shikigami, who paws back with kitten like wonder.

Kagome shakes her head and tries to head back out so she can take a much needed nap, but the distress in Megumi's voice stops her. She walks over to him, abandoning all thoughts of getting some rest. "What's wrong?"

He swallows. Buyo Jr. must sense the urgency of the situation because he brushes his head against Megumi's.

"Megumi, what's wrong?" Kagome asks again, this time softer. She prays that there haven't been any new developments regarding Tsumiki. Whoever took her is most likely keeping her safe to get Megumi to join these culling games. At least she prays Tsumiki is safe.

"It's Maki. She went to the Zenin estate to get some weapons that they took from jujutsu high. I gave her permission as clan leader."

"Is she dead?" Yuji questions, face grim.

"No. But Mai tried to kill her. Mai is saying Maki attacked her first. Not sure what is going on, but Naoya-san is insisting I come down there as clan leader and sort it out." He sighs. "And he won't tell me where either of them are, unless I bring Kagome-san with me because he wants to talk to you."

"Who?" Kagome scratches her head. Who the hell is Naoya? "What does he look like? And if you're the clan leader now, then he shouldn't be playing games with you." She wrinkles her nose as Megumi and Yuji explain who Naoya is and what he looks like.

This Naoya guy does sound familiar.

Oh. Shit.

That guy.

"He doesn't want to talk to me. He's probably still smarting over me slapping him for his disrespectful comments. And he knows I'm with Satoru because Satoru confronted him."

"The priestess is not going," Sesshomaru states. "Shippo will accompany you. Kill those you see fit. These sorcerers are becoming tiresome."

"Yes, milord," Shippo jokes, playfully saluting Sesshomaru. "Might mess around and wipe out the whole clan. Sorry, Gumi."

"So, we're going to force him to talk, then?" Megumi asks.

"Nah, I mean he wants to see mama so badly." Shippo's tail wags behind him in slow, measured strokes as though he just found something he wants to sink his teeth into. Kagome can't find it in her to care one way or the other if this Naoya guy ends up dead. She wants Satoru back. She wants Tsumiki back. And she really, really wants to take a nap.

"We can't take Kagome-san there," Megumi points out.

"Give me some credit here. I am a fox, after all. The real question is, should Naoya get to have a meeting with mama or papa?"

"Gojo-sensei isn't here."

"He's here in my heart." Shippo sniffs. "Mama, do you give me permission to do unspeakable things in your likeness and image?"

"I should say no." She motions for the other shikigami in Megumi's arms. It reluctantly leaves Megumi's arms and leaps to her shoulder. "But I'm too tired to care. Take one of the girls before you go. They should be able to help if need be."

"YES!" Shippo fist pumps the air and throws an arm around Yuta, who grins like he just found all his favorite items replaced with coal. "We ride out in twenty."

The white shikigami meows, and Kagome nods her head in acceptance. There goes her shikigami. It nuzzles her face and then rushes back to Megumi's arms. The dark-haired one tugs on her hoodie. She smiles softly at it.

She should name them. Something cool? Or something just nice?

"We aren't killing anyone, right?" Megumi asks.

"Do what needs to be done," Sesshomaru says. He walks over to stand by Kagome. "I will escort the priestess back to her room. Human, clean your blood off the floor." Sesshomaru escorts her out of the dojo and down to her bedroom, which is way on the other side of the estate. "We will get our mate back. Do not be rash."

Kagome dips her head, cheeks burning. "I feel useless. I should be able to do something."

"You just created two shikigami, one of which whom could create a barrier to repel this Sesshomaru. You are not useless."

"…Thanks, Sesshomaru." She blinks. Her eyes prickle with tears that want to fall. Damn her emotions for being so haywire. "I just want him—them, back."

"And they will. This Sesshomaru will see to it. Stop crying, it is unbecoming."

She barks out a laugh. The dark-haired shikigami squeezes her hand. Everything is going to be fine. It has to be.

****

A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope you have been having a wonderful and gentle holiday season. I was originally going to answer some questions, but that will have to wait until the next update.

It was brought to my attention that this story and maybe others have been getting some hate on social media. I just want to encourage anyone that wants to create, that there is an audience out there for you. There is an audience for all of us. Honestly, in all avenues of life, there will be people who do not like you and do not like your work, and that is okay. So, if there is something out there that you have been hesitant to do because you are afraid of what others might say, ignore them. Go for it. I promise there is an audience, a community out there for each and every one of us.

Stay encouraged. Stay hydrated. Be kind to yourself. And...I'm honestly shocked it wasn't a smut scene that set those people off LOL. Next update will most likely be Wish I Could since Geto is determined to have this smut scene. I won't spoil too much, but it's different from the other smut I have written. Take care of yourselves!

[blues-sues]

First friend

(Ft. Rue and Banny)

The walls were stark white. Always were. Never changed, never shifted.

She would watch these walls for hours, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Sometimes things would. A grunt would come and get her for her routine check up but after she'd be quickly put back in her room. Rarely let out.

She was much too young to wander out alone. Not trusted enough.

Her eye was still recovering, the bandages bloody and itchy. So horribly itchy. She wanted to claw at it but she'd been yelled at too many times. She'd face punishment if she tried again.

She needed something to distract her. She didn't care if it was another fight. If she saw that Mightyena again, she'd-

Whirring. She stiffened as the door slid open behind her, clicking along its journey. She waited. She was told never to turn around until instructed. Last time she did, she saw a needle and had sent the man flying.

However, part of her knew this one wasn't a human. Something about the tiny steps it took told her such.

"S'alright. Ya c'n turn." Its voice sent a shiver down her spine. It was deeper than any she'd heard and had a faint echo to it- like it had a constant copycat attached.

However, she listened and looked over her shoulder to see it. However, nothing was there.

"Down 'ere."

Her head lowered until finally she spotted it. A small pokemon with black pigmentation and red eyes that look into hers curiously.

"N'mes Banny. Nice ta meetcha." It held out its hand, the middle of its arm sagging in the middle where its elbow would be.

"Uhm." She stared down at him. "Mewtwo." She replies, putting out her own and giving a shake.

"Ah. Righ'. Mewtwo." Banny's eyes narrow. "Ya gots quite th' reputation."

"Do I?" She questioned. Sincerely she's not quite sure why people would speak of her. She's not that interesting- besides being the last of her kind. At least that's what her guards told her.

"Duh. Ya th' newest memb'r. Everyone's dyin' to meet ya." The Pokemon shuffled and scrambles its way to sit beside her. "Looks like somebody 'ready did, tho."

She doesn't miss the way its eyes seem to look over her cuts and bruises from her battle. She couldn't. She's wired by now to notice every single movement near her.

"Was it th' brat? Big ol' stinky dog?"

She snorted. She couldn't believe she just snorted in front of a guest. However, Banny seemed unbothered. In fact, it grinned wider.

"I- well, I wouldn't say that." She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. "But, yeah, he was… interesting."

"Ya c'n say 'e was a bitch, I won' tell." Banny offers, its tail beginning to wag. "'re both thinkin' it."

"Where did you even come from???" She stuttered out between her laughs, clutching her stomach.

"Oh, y'know."

"No, I don't!"

"Bit of 'ere, bit of there. 've come from everywhere." The Banette begins to sway its legs, eyes curving upwards into crescents as it eyes her. "Y're bett'r than anyone else 've met. All got sticks up 'eir asses."

"That's rude!" Still, she has to resist giggling. Something about this 'mon has her feel like she's being told marvelous jokes.

"N't wrong~" Banny sang out, before breaking into a fit of laughter of their own.

And it was pleasant to sit there, laughing with it, but she also knew it couldn't stay.

Nobody could.

Finally, once she's regained her breath, she opens her mouth to address it but suddenly the doors swing open again and in marches-

A Zoroark.

Oh, but she's seen this one before. It's hard to forget a Pokemon that's half-shiny.

"Captain!" She squeaks out, back straightening as they draw near. But, their attention isn't on her.

Whipping around, they grab the Banette by the tail. "Banny, you are not authorized to be here!" They barked, lifting it so its eyes were level with theirs.

Banny didn't look fazed. "H'h? Y'sure? Swore I w's."

"You are the bane of my existence, you rat! Leave Mewtwo alone, they have training in an hour!" Captain snaps, dropping Banny abruptly only to start dragging it out by the arm.

She watches, eyes wide in awe as Banny still has the confidence to raise its other arm and wave. "G'dbye! S'ya next Chr'stmas!"

She rose her own and bid her own farewell with a sway of her arm. However, it took her a moment to process that...

It wasn't Christmas.

She tried to keep it at bay but once the door slid shut, she burst into another round of giggles. What a silly Pokemon!

-----

Banny, on his way out, of course heard. Their smile stretches wide upon hearing the laughter.

"What's got her so jolly?" Captain grunts, narrowing their eyes to glare suspiciously at Banny. "Did you infect her with something?"

"Yeah. 's called joy. Not tha' ya guys would know 'bout it."

Captain merely rolls her eyes in response. "Banny, you know this is for her own good. If she were out there, she'd-"

"-be happy? Wit' 'er real fam'ly?" Banny interrupted swiftly. "Ya act like 're savin' h'r but y'know we ain't."

"It'd do you good to keep your mouth shut." Was the Zoroark's snarled response. "That zipper ain't working."

"S'rry, it only lets me talk if 's th' truth."

The Banette was then promptly tossed into their own room and they shrug as they watch the door slowly start to slide shut, Captain's fierce glare locked on him.

Well, guess not leaving the room this week either.

[lyon-amore]

With you until the end of the world Chapter 8

Chapter 7

*Angel POV*

We went to the city center to eat. Jack grips me tight, looking around in fear. I sigh and take him in my arms, thus preventing them from being able to push him.

   "Let's see, where can I take you to eat?" I ask myself more, looking at the different places to eat.     Jack pulls me over and points to McDonald's.    "That's not good for a child." I reply, even though I should be the one who should talk the least if I can eat two McDonald's hamburgers, fries, and ice cream. What I don't want is for him thinking I'm going to fall for their good boy charm. He won't be with us long. Besides, I want to be alone with Jake “, it has a lot of fat and, who knows what else they put into that food? Yuck!””     He begins to look at me with sad eyes. I look away, biting the inside of my cheek. No. I will not fall.

I will not fall.

I won't do it.

Damn it.

We enter McDonald's and get in line. A children's menu and that's it, he doesn’t need anything else. We sit away from everyone and I watch him eat. Maybe I should ask him if he's okay, after all, he can talk and maybe we can create his testimony.    "Tell me, Jack. Do you remember everything that happened when you were with Jake and your brother?"     He nods while playing with the menu toy.    "And Jake did something? Did he take something important from the house?” I don't ask him because I don't trust Jake, but to make him consider what he saw. I trust Jake, which I don't know whether to trust a child. Yes, children are sincere, but what if he lies to protect his brother?     He shakes his head and picks up a chip. I sigh trying to calm down. He doesn't talk now. I rest my head on the table. I don't know how to make him talk to me.    "Don't cry" I listen and look up a little, noticing a hand on my head. Jack tries to cheer me up “. Don't cry mommy.”    “I'm not crying” I get up fixing my hair, uncomfortable that he calls me that. As much as it's going to serve to pretend, I don't like being called that “, and I told you, don't call me mom, I'm not your mother.”    “Bu-but you bought me clothes and you fed me” it's the longest sentence he's said today ”Isn't that what a mother does?”     Can he finish eating and get out of here? I'm not his mother, I just did it out of pity.    ''It's not-" I bite my tongue, trying not to say anything that might hurt him. If my mother, who is a teacher at elementary school children, saw me right now, she would feel proud of me for sure “. You can't decide that I'm your mother just because you've decided so, we just must appear so in people's eyes, you don't have to… call me that.”     He cocks his head, looking at me confused. Maybe I should find a way for him to understand it better.    "Okay, we're actually spies." I lean forward a little, whispering. Jack also approaches, with an innocent smile “and as the spies that we are, we must pretend to be a family, but! No need to call me 'mom', do you understand?”    "Are you spies?" He asks me excited.     I stare at him feeling bad, but I have no other choice.    "Exactly, but" I signal for silence "you can't tell anyone."    "I won't say anything.” he also makes a sign of silence, with a complicit laugh.     Okay, at least I've got the kid under control, so he doesn't rat on us. It's easier than it sounds to handle this kid.    “Oh, what an adorable son you have.” says an old woman with her granddaughter, smiling at us.    “Tha-“    “She's not really my mom.” Jack says, and I get nervous.    “What?” The lady looks at me badly.   “We are playing!” I exclaim trying to stop the child from talking “He is a savior prince and I am an evil witch who wants to defeat him.”    "Oh! I understand!” She walks away while she laughs.     I frown at Jack, annoyed. He shrinks back in the chair shyly. I have to fix this.    “Jack, you can't tell people I'm not your mother.”    "But you said-"    "I know what I said." I take a deep breath. I have to calm down, so I don't kill him “. But when people ask us, we must say that we are.”    "It's very confusing." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms.     I look at him carefully, he doesn't look like a child who has suffered a traumatic event.    “Jack” he looks me straight in the eye and I look worried “Are you okay after what happened with your brother?”     I see how he starts to shake. Maybe I shouldn't have asked.    "No... I shouldn't cry" he says in a thin voice ". Jonas used to tell me that if I cried it would bother him... Crying is bad."”     I take a deep breath, clenching my fists hard. I don't like hearing children cry either, but this is different, it's forcing a little one to shut down. I reach out to comfort him but stop myself. I don't want to be close to him. And I don't want to get attached either. I just want to help him, find him a new home and be alone again with Jake. I sigh trying to relax, smiling a little.    “You're done?” I ask seeing that there is no rest of food left.    "Yes." he answers, picking up the toy again.    “Well, let's go.”     I take the tray and take the contents to the trash. I feel Jack tug on my sweatshirt and I look at him.    “Now what?” I ask, exhaling a charged breath.    “I want ice cream.”     I roll my eyes. Great, now I have to buy dessert for the boy.

Maybe I took advantage of the fact that the boy wanted an ice cream to buy me another, I think I have the right to give myself a reward for taking care of him, right? I look at Jack as we walk back home. He is happy with the toy. I notice that we cannot enter through the main door, there are too many people on the street. We make a detour and I help him sit on the dumpster and push myself up to run. Jake taught me some tricks to get up faster. As I stand on top of the dumpster, Jack looks at me in surprise.    "It's been great. Can I do it?"    "Mmm…Maybe when you grow up a little" I reply as I get into position for him to climb ", come on, I'll help you up."    “Do you want me to do it?” I turn my head when I hear Jake's voice and smile when I see him.    "Jake!" Jack gets excited to see him, as if he was seeing his hero.     Jake signals him not to yell his name and quickly covers his mouth.    "Sorry." the little boy apologized, embarrassed.    “Do not worry, just… Be careful next time, okay?” He answers a little awkwardly, climbing more easily than me. He hasn’t even moved the container an inch.     I get up and I don't take my eyes off him, what's more, my feet move on their own to get closer, lowering his mask a little to kiss him. He kisses me back with a few smaller ones.    “All good?” I ask worried.    "Yeah, do not worry." He caresses my cheek and I lean into the side of his hand, still smiling.     Then he walks away and approaches the child, picking him up in his arms until he approaches the window.    "Alright little one" he climbs onto his shoulders, placing his feet on his shoulders ", go ahead, come in through the window."    "Okay." Jack grabs onto the window and Jake urges him on.    ”Stay there, now we enter.”    "I've been talking to Jack about what happened" I whisper so he can't hear us "Do you know what he told me? That his brother forbade him to cry, because that's bad.”     Jake sighs, I can tell how upset he is. I share his anger, Jack is a child who is growing and developing, this learning is not good for him.   "I think you should talk to him" I advise him ", you were there with him, maybe he talked to you."    "I saw him hiding behind his brother's drug dealer." I look at him surprised after hearing those words “He preferred a man who sells drugs to her brother and that he had yelled at him before.”    "Poor boy" I look up, knowing he's waiting “. When he has seen you, his face has lit up.”    “Yes I saw it.”   "Maybe he need to talk to his hero."     He nods and I jump up, grabbing the window. Jake then walks in and looks at Jack, who was waiting for us leaning against the wall.    "I'll be in the room listening to music if you need anything." I smile at both of them, walking away.     I also want to be able to write a little bit of a letter to my parents, telling them what has happened and even if I am not going to receive an answer, I want to imagine what my parents would say to me as I write. What advice would you give me about caring for a young child?

I still don't understand what Jake really has in his head to take him to us.

*Jake POV*

Angel leaves and I am left alone with Jack. I stand up to him, looking at the toy in his hands. It was a doll of a Sonic character. Tails. Although it is somewhat different, with metallic tails.    “And this?” I ask showing curiosity “Has Angel bought it for you?”     He nods with a smile.    "Yes, from MDonald" he tries to pronounce McDonald's, hugging the doll ", it came with the hamburger."    "Wow, you got the smartest one." I ruffle his hair and he laughs.     I should be able to bring up the conversation about how he feel about his brother's death, try to get him to give a hint of emotion. I then decide to do the same as when I started the older brother-little brother relationship with Henry. As that important person for my mother taught me.    “Come, I'm going to show you something very cool” I get up offering my hand, which he takes immediately.

   We enter the room where I have the computer. I sit in the chair and pick him up, sitting him on my lap.    "Do you know how to use a computer?" He shakes his head and I nod “Better, you are still too young to navigate web pages.”    “What are web pages?” He asks and I look at him surprised. Or maybe it is relief.    “They are digital places where you can look at anything you want to look for” I try to explain it to him in the best way that he can understand it “But do you know what I can do? Enter the cell phones of others from here.”     He opens his eyes surprised, then looking at the screen.    “Really?”    "Of course, look" I prepare the program and look for Macie's cell phone, seeing on her screen that the Spotify program is on “. Look, this is Angel's cell phone right now.”    “Wow…”    "Shall we do something fun?" He nods quickly and I laugh “Very well, we do this to control her cell phone” I use one of my programs and search YouTube for the nursery rhyme that bothers Angel the most and fast forward to the chorus “. Now, we remove Spotify and…” I press play on the video and signal for it to wait.    "Take this song away from me right now!" We heard her scream from the room.     We laugh and finally I remove the video, leaving control of her phone. Jack points to the screen with a big smile.    "Will you teach me to do that?" He asks excitedly.     I see myself reflected in it, except that I was about fourteen when I started.    “I think it is not a good idea at the moment” I answer, although I do not intend to teach him. I know what that would lead to and it's not what I want “. Angel told me what your brother told you not to cry.”     He lowers his head, feeling guilty.    "Crying is bad" he answers me with a small voice ", if I cry, I'm upset. Crying is not okay.”     I look at him with pity. To have to hear that from such a young child… I can not imagine how he must have lived with him.    “You know? I spent many years setting aside everything related to feeling emotions” I start to explain my story, but I will not go into details “. I did not care if someone was attacked, if they threatened him, if… they killed him” I remember then those moments with Macie's friends, those moments that I know I was cold, not caring about anyone but Hannah “. In many years, I became a very cold man, I did not want to have anyone by my side.”    "Weren't you crying?" he asks curiously.    “No, because at that time I thought that would be weak” I tell him not very proud. But then I smile “. But everything changed when he met Angel” I look at him remembering the first message I sent her, the first contact after a long time “. She taught me that it was not bad to feel emotions again. And although at that time it was still difficult for me to show them, it was thanks to her help that I became what I was again” He stays looking at me with those big blue eyes that penetrated my soul. I remember then when my mother used to talk to me like this “. It is not bad to cry when you need to, Jack, it is much better than keeping it all inside, you have to express yourself. You may have to learn it like I had to, but we'll help you.”     He stays thinking for a few moments, to finally speak.    “I cried a lot when mommy died” I notice sadness in his voice, even his eyes shine, as if now he wants to cry “. Jason told me to shut up because I was annoying and he told me that she died because I was annoying and that if I didn't cry, no one else was going to die” I stare at him surprised by his words. I do not think I should ever heard anything so cruel “. So in order not to bother and that no one died, I listened and stopped crying” he starts to shake and I see how he starts to cry “. I miss mommy, I didn't want her to die because of me.”    "It was not your fault, Jack." I speak to him in the clearest and softest way possible, so that he understands my words “, your mother did not die because you bothered her, of that I can be sure” I give him a little squeeze on the shoulder without hurting him, affectionate “and I am sure she loved you. You can cry all you need, do not keep it with us, okay?”     He nods while still crying and hugs me. I let out a small laugh, hugging him back. I see Angel leaning against the door frame, arms folded. I can see that she has a small smile on her face. I also answer her with a smile.

He falls asleep after crying and we put him in the sleeping bag to rest. We stayed silent looking at him.    “And now that?” She asks me, sighing “Have you changed your mind? Shall we leave him in charge of Leonardo? He has already managed to cry, he doesn't need us anymore, we have solved it.”     I rub my hands nervously. Part of me wants to leave him here because I knows it is dangerous. The other part is like that feeling I had with Macie, wanting to protect her because she looked helpless. Now I am sorry with Jack. The protective instinct is clearly different.    "I…" I keep looking at Jack. He is alone in this world, he has no one. Nobody except us “. Like I told you, he only trusts us.”    “Jake, I understand that it is easy to have become attached to him” she approaches me, holding my hand “, but the difference between adults running away, and ones with a child is that they need more care” she pulls her hand away and I see her hug herself, uncomfortable “and it's complicated for me, I lose my temper and today I almost didn't yell at him for screwing up. I'm not as good at this as you are.”     I watch her closely, seeing how she watches Jack. I caress her cheek gently, slowly moving up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She ends up looking at me, hurt.    "I think you have done well" I answer with a smile ", there's no one better than you to take care of him."     She sighs approaching my face. She begins to kiss me slowly and I return her. We end up getting up leaving the room, to go to the computer room and I sit her on my lap, continuing with the kisses.

I stroke her hair while she lies on my chest, breathing easy. She hugs me tight and looks up.    “What's the plan?” she asks me, her voice almost breathless.    “When we have the identity card and the passport, I need you to buy two tickets to Italy.”    “Why two?” She gets up looking at me with a frown “Jake…”    “I will go too, but I will do it by bus.”    "So, that saying that our trip will be difficult doesn't apply when there's a child involved." She says as she gets up and grabs her clothes from the floor.    "And because we still have money for him" I also grab my clothes and get dressed, to then place my hands on her cheeks “. Angel, don't be mad.”     I give her a small kiss, but that doesn't make her expression change.    “It's just that…” She takes a deep breath “I thought it would be just the two of us.”    “You have made me go back to being the man I once was, someone who helped those who need it most” She looks away, but I place my hand on her chin, making her look at me “and I can not leave him alone, it would not be right.”     She nods slowly, now placing her hands on my cheeks to kiss me.    “But nothing of calling us 'dad' and 'mom' in private.” she finally says.    "I do not know; I think that nickname suits you very well.” I tease, taking her by the waist.    “Not even in dreams.”     I laugh and kiss her again. It is a different way to run away than I have ever thought of. I know it is dangerous, but I will keep them both safe.

Chapter 9 soon