#JOIN ME MY TENDER DOVES

[pastafossa]

Good fucking lord these two final Raven fic chapters are 19k total

This will either be my Darkfic Masterpiece Finale, the magnificence of which will never be equaled until we have the Much Happier Official TRT Finale, or it will be my Darkfic Downfall as I crash and burn and my squishy body is aerosolized within a massive smoking crater though fortunately the damage will be limited since it's a Darkfic and thus its audience is much smaller

i'll resurrect it's fine

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unrequited.

Pairings: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Reader Doesn't Have A Gender But Everyone Here Is A Melodramatic Lesbian. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

[Part Two]

Arlecchino has never struggled to find her way to you.

She would have, if she needed to. That was something she prided herself on: her perseverance when it came to all things, her determination when it came to her pursuits – romantic or otherwise. When she was in Snezhnaya, she dreamed each night of crossing oceans and climbing mountains and tearing apart the Tsaritsa and all of her many soldiers with her own monstrous hands if only to win the chance of finding her way back to your side, and when she was in Fontaine, there was nothing – not her duties as a Harbinger, not the fate of her nation, and only very rarely her beloved children – that could keep her away from you. Fortunately (more so for the rest of Teyvat than for her), she never had to go through so much effort.

No matter how distant she might’ve been, you were always exactly where she'd left you: at the right hand of Lady Furina, Protector and God of Fontaine, or as Arlecchino had come to think of her, the only person you would ever cross oceans to be with.

Also, coincidentally, the only person thick-skulled enough not to pay you a second glance.

She found you watching your dearly beloved from your usually crow’s nest; a balcony that overlooked the rest of the venue, your eyes cast downward towards the ballroom and a sickeningly tender smile painted across your lips. As Arlecchino neared you, she could see what you were so transfixed by and weather the wave of nausea that accompanied the sight of Lady Furina holding court with a handful of Fontaine’s elite, her hands moving excitedly as she recited some practiced monologue Arlecchino could only be thankful she was too far to hear. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she came to stand beside you, extending a flute of champagne which you gladly accepted. She had invited you back to her manor when she first discovered your fondness for such fine things, practically begged you to sample the finest wines and bourbons in her vast collection, but you only shook your had and told her that Furina would need your held reviewing case files for her next trial, grinning like an idiot all the while. If she hadn’t been so endeared by your smile, she might’ve hated you for how thoughtlessly you dismissed her.

“The orchestra is half-way decent, tonight.” She rested a hand on the crook of your arm, let her head lilt to the side. “Care to join me for a dance?”

Your love-struck smile widened. “No, thank you. I’m saving my first for her.” A quick nod towards Furina, one of her boots now propped on a chair provided by one of her audience members. “She’s been working on her waltz, lately – she only stepped on my feet twice while we were practicing this afternoon.”

You said it as if Furina had plucked the moon from the sky and gifted it to you on a silver chain. Arlecchino couldn’t help but scoff. “I have no idea what you see in her. She would starve to death if you weren’t there to remind her to eat.” You sighed wistfully and she took a generous sip from her own drink before going on. “She’s a poor excuse for an entertainer, let alone an archon. If it wasn’t for that judge of hers, she’d have a revolution on her hands in a matter of hours.”  

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know her. She might not have Monsieur Neuvillette’s resolution, but she’s not trying to be Monsieur Neuvillette.” For the first time since the start of your conversation, you looked towards Arlecchino and she could’ve sworn the rest of the ballroom ceased to exist. If she’d been a weaker woman, she would’ve fallen to one knee and presented the ring she kept in her breast pocket when she knew she would see you, would’ve drawn her sword and pleaded with you to drive it through her heart, but your attention turned back to your archon and the temptation faded back into more of a wishful fancy than a possible reality. “She’s wonderful, and brilliant, and she makes me laugh. Whenever I picture myself happy, I picture myself with her. I love her.” She’d heard you say it a thousand times before, and yet, her heart seemed to break in an entirely new way every time those words – coated in such a saccharine affection – trickled off of your tongue. She was glad she was not a weaker woman, upon further thought; if she was, you would’ve done her in months ago. “She’s everything to me.”

She couldn’t help herself. As delicate as she tried to be with you, there would always be a part of her that couldn’t help but twist the knife. “Doesn’t it hurt?” And then, when you hummed for clarification, “Loving someone so incapable of loving you back?”

You let out a breath of a laugh, the noise like windchimes and wedding bells. “I don’t know, Lord Arlecchino.” You glanced over your shoulder. “Does it?”

Ah, there it was.

Despite everything, she’d fallen for a sadist after all.

She let the corner of her mouth curl upward. “More than I could ever say.”

This time, your laugh was more throaty, more full-hearted. “What a sorry sight we must make, too pining romantics mourning lost love at a party.” Your tone dipped into something more genuine, albeit still playful. “My first dance is taken, but would it be too much of an insult to offer you my second?”

She moved to speak, to tell you that you could dig your heel into her foot and spit in her face and she would still be able to thank you sincerely for sparing her so much of your attention, but a melodical voice called your name and instantly, you were stolen away by a head of white hair and two mismatched eyes emerging at the top of the nearest staircase, still glowing with the zeal of a performer post-applause. Furina latched onto you with all she was worth; arms wrapping around your own as she pressed herself into your side. “Evidently, you have forgotten your duties to your goddess,” Furina started properly, her little speech already rehearsed to perfection. “Must I remind you that I am always to be the center of your attention?”

“Never, my lady.” And, in an instant, Arlecchino was gone to you, nothing more than a momentary distraction you would not be returning to for as long as Furina held you in her spotlight. “In fact, I believe you still owe me a dance.”

The reminder was unnecessary. Furina was already pulling you back down to the ballroom floor, already spouting off something about how cruel it would be of her to deny such an earnest request from her most faithful servant, about how foolish you are for believing her memory would be so fallible as to forget even the most trivial of promises. With a ragged breath, Arlecchino took up your post, watching dutifully as you were pulled into (what could be called by the most generous of onlookers) a terribly mangled waltz. It was proof of Furina’s fortune that she’d found the only person in Teyvat with the fortitude and patience to be so hopelessly in love with her.

It was proof to your fortune that, even when faced with the wrath of gods, Arlecchino was not one to give up so easily.

[luveline]

you did this with Steve and James but I would love a Remus fic where they are play fighting and he accidentally hurts her

for u my love boyfriend!remus x reader

Remus can be intimidating when he wants to be usually, but on top of you like this with a huge smile on his face and his eyes lit with excitement, he's the opposite of scary. 

"I'm gonna make you sorry," he threatens. 

You have your hands joined and held in front of you, pushing him away so he can't kiss you. You never know how you and Remus get into these situations, playfulness bordered by a fierce competitiveness that means neither of you are willing to back down, no matter how badly you'd both like a quick kiss.

"You couldn't make a puppy sorry, Remus," you say, huffing at the strain and effort it takes to hold him up when he's this desperate to reach you. 

He ignores your hands, his fingers squeezing yours brutally in hopes you'll give in, and ducks down into your space anyhow. The bed groans beneath you as your squirm away, pushing your hand (with his still twined into it) against his handsome face. 

"You suck," you trash talk, "and you won't win!"

"I always win," he says, which isn't explicitly true. 

"No! You give me the giggles and I can't fight back, you cheat!" 

Remus presses harder against your palms. "I don't cheat! Dove, I swear to fuck, if you don't let me kiss you–" 

"You'll what?" 

"I'll kiss you!" he warns. 

And there it is, he's making you laugh, and when you laugh you get distracted and your resolve weakens. Your arms shake in his hold as you do. Remus sees an in, pressing forward hard. You startle and he startles at your startling —he tries to back off, but you know he's already falling forward. You flinch and pull your arm up, fingers tangled in his, too late to shield your face as his chin connects with your nose with a loud smack. 

You both curse at the same time. Tears are instantaneous in your eyes, the shock of a whack to the nose inescapable. 

"Ouch," you whine, though you have enough sense to see the humour in the situation. You're a little winded. Remus really did fall smack dab on top of you. "You okay, babe?"

Remus pulls your hair by accident as he pushes himself off of you, and your hiss visibly panics him. The fog of pain clears from his expression, and your sweetheart hurries to check you're alright. 

"I'm fine, are you okay?" he asks, hand on your face, turning your chin up to better see your nose in the light. "I'm so sorry, dovey, I don't know how I– fuck, your nose is bleeding a bit." 

"It is?" you ask. Remus is quick to press his sleeve to your nostril, which feels quite tender, now that he mentions it. 

"Oh, no," he murmurs, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. His palm is warm, the roughness of his pen-wrought callus familiar against your skin. "Dove, I'm sorry. Don't cry."

You blink hurriedly. "No, I'm not crying. It's just 'cos it hurts." 

You don't mean for it to come out that way, you're trying to explain that your tears are because he's hit you in the face with his face and there are delicately interconnected systems under the surface being disrupted, but Remus takes it for an admission of pain and goes berserk, which is to say he dotes on you as though you've broken something. Soft kisses pressed to your cheek, whispered reassurances. You try to tell him it doesn't matter, that he's being too much, but it's so wildly nice to be cared for that the words get stuck in your throat. 

"It only bled a little," he reassures. "Do you want me to get you an ice pack?" 

You nod silently, enamoured with him, wanting to bask in the warmth of his attention just as long as you can. 

"Okay," he says, climbing off of you to leave and find one. He doubles back before he reaches the door, and when he leans over you, he smiles wryly. "Told you I'd get that kiss, didn't I?" 

You laugh breathlessly and let him kiss you. He's very cautious to avoid your nose. 

[grugruel]

Bad News 1 |

Parts: 1/2, read part 2 HERE

Parings: dbf!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Inspired by, Call me by your name

Summary: Your fathers best friend accompanies you and your family to your summer house in the country. Sparks ignite as you grow closer, secretly spending one-on-one time together at night.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: plot with smut, secret-relationship, angst, choking, praise kink, petname (doll), oral sex (f recieving), pinv sex, fingering, creampie, c*ck warming.

AN: Ill make it into a series if yall like it, please enjoy!

Baring Throats

I leaned onto the windowsill, one arm stretched into the cool night air, holding a half smoked ciagrette as I rested my head in the crook of the other. A song filled the empty night, small birds and morning doves serenaded me beautifully, the occasional cranes interuppting with their paired cries.

I took a puff, exhailing slowly as I admired the view overlooking the garden, the vast grass plains surronding the house and the tree line in the distance. It separated us from the forest, obscuring the lake behind it and hiding all things wild. I glanced down the long road leading up to the house, and found a man walking along it.

Bucky, heading back from another venture into town. Perhaps he had visited a lady friend, which he had a good number of, perhaps it wasnt any of my concern. It shouldnt bother me, yet, it did.

I found my mind drifting, painting a picture of him in a bed, sweaty and naked, laying next to another woman and a spark of jealousy flared up inside me. The sound of footsteps on a gravel path approached, bringing me back to the moment, I blinked the images away and rebuked myself.

Looking down to the ground, my eyes met his. Smiling, I greeted him amd leaned over the sill. Nothing on but a thin t-shirt and a pair of panties, goosebumps prickled my skin. He smiled back at me. We looked at eachother in silent understanding, our business remaining our own. Wordlessly we communicated, I took another drag of the cigarette and he gestured for me to give him one, I held my index finger up, indicating for him to wait a second as I grabbed the pack and lighter from my nightstand, in turn tossing them down to him. Graciously he caught them and lit up, I nodded my head inside, asking him to join me. He took a long drag of the cig, considering me carefully, but he shook his head. Smiling increadolously, he pointed at me as if saying, "youre bad news" then snuffed his cigarette and went inside.

I heard him walking up the stairs, toward my room, the footsteps stopping just outside my door. Please knock, I begged, he seemed to be considering it, but a moment passed and then another, and at last he left. Entering his own room instead, opposite mine.

This had been our routine for the past few weeks, both being night owls, we'd sometimes encounter eachother on the premises. Coming from our separete affairs, but never asking the other where they'd been. We'd share a snack, talk in hushed voices, hold in laughs and shush eachother when we inevitably were to loud. It became our little secret, not because we did anything innapropriate, but simply because it were a few moments that belonged to just the two of us. Talking about things we couldnt talk about with anyone else. It had been innocent at first, but at some point had that charming smile of his begun to make me blush, at some point had his touching become more tender and at some point did our night time talks stop being accidental, but rather sought out. Last night, we'd come dangerously close to kissing and I think alarm bells sounded for the both of us, which is why we kept our distance tonight.

Dissapointed I went to bed, falling asleep with unseemly images of my fathers best friend clouding my mind.

I slept late into the next day, the sound of heavy rain battering the roof roused me from my sleep. As I got ready to go about my day, I found a note slid under my door, my lighter was inside, along with a few written words "Smoking is bad, you know. I'd better finish them for you :)" Chuckling, I saved the note, tucking it into my nightstand. Wiseass.

Due to poor weather and lack of outdoor activities, the family + one was gathered in the livingroom. My parents on one sofa, dad holding an arm around my mom as they read from the same book, my brother in the armchair and Bucky on the other sofa, everyone reading a variety of something. They all looked up as I entered the room, feigning surprise that I had finally joined them.

'Good afternoon stranger.' my father chuckled. I kissed my mothers cheek in greeting, she smiled sweetly and squeezed my hand in response as I passed them.

'About time you graced us with your prescence' Bucky teased, making my brother and mother join in with the cheerful joking.

I smirked and shook my head, waving my hands dissmissively, 'Very funny, I blame the weather.' I said and gestured toward the sky, sitting down on the empty seat next to Bucky. I laid my legs in his lap and leaned back against the armrest, propping my head up on a pillow. A conversation was struck up, talking about what I had missed, discussing resent books and making plans for tomorrow, it seemed like we'd go to the beach. Ocasionally, Bucky would grab and squeeze my legs when talking, in the same way some people gestured to get their point across.

As the chill of the evening drew closer, we lit a fire in the hearth and grabbed blankets. But a shortage occured, so I had to move closer to Bucky, he laid an arm across my shoulder as I curled up intill him so one blanket would be enough for the both of us. We grabbed a few bottles of wine, dusted off the old board games and got down to business. A heated game of monopoly ensued, followed by a short dinner break, eventually resulting in very drunk charades. Bucky and I teamed up, two versus three and we won regardless. Were all very competitve people, safe to say that none of us went to bed feeling very sportsmanlike that night. As the evening wound down, so did our energy, the wine was taking its toll. My legs were tucked against Buckys chest as I leaned my head against his shoulder, he circled his arms around my legs and rested his chin on my knees. Lazily the five of us talked for a while longer, enjoying the pleasent atmosphere of the night while we were still contious to do so. Eventually though, as laughs turned into yawns, Bucky and I offered to stay behind and clean up while the other three departed. Tidying went by quickly, we made a good team. As I discarded the last of the dishes in the sink, he put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead, trying to keep his focus on my eyes, 'Go to bed, doll. I got the rest.' He said, smiling sweetly, attempting to act sober and rubbed my shoulders tenderly.

I looked at him with hazy eyes, 'If you say so.' I answered, smiling lazily, then went upstairs. Between our rooms, there was a french balcony. It stood wide open, my parents had presumably opened it in a drunk hot-flash to let air in. I was headed for my room, but my mind drifted to the crisp, sublte wind calling my name. My feet changed direction by themselves, and magically I appeared in the opening.

Leaned against the doorframe, I fell half asleep, the rain had devolved into a drizzle, but the air was damp and pleasantly chilly against my skin. Involuntairy shivers took over my body, but I was to tired to move. I heard distant footsteps behind me, coming and going, and eventually coming back again. The steps approached and strong arms circled around my shoulders, a warm body pressing up against my back. He'd covered himself with a blanket, holding the ends in his hands and gift wrapped me into his embrace. I held onto his forearms, a smile kn my lips as I basked in his warmth.

He rested his head on my shoulder, 'You were gonna freeze.' He explained himself, whispering against my ear and sending a cold shiver through my spine. I leaned my head back against his chest, sighing happily as we stood silently, appreciating eachothers presence. I drunk his scent in as our breaths matched up, the birds singing for us once again.

'I want my cigs back.' I complained, drunkenly disturbing our peaceful moment.

Bucky chuckled, 'I dont want you to get cancer.' He protested, half-joking.

I turned around, alcohol causing the bounderies of a long friendship to blur. I placed my hands on his chest and met his eyes, looking at him through my lashes, making them as big and pretty as a puppys 'Please?' I asked kindly.

He looked at me with adoration in his gaze, removing the blanket from himself and covering my shoulders with it. A smirk curved his lips as he looked at me, shaking his head in defeat. Wordslessly his manmersism spoke for him, 'Youre bad news." they told me, and this it would get the better of him. He grabbed my hand and led me into his room. Once inside he let go of me, opened his window and began rummaging around his dresser. I leaned my back against the windowsill, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and crossed my arms, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as I waited, watching him with a smile on my lips. His arm shot up into the air, displaying the packet proudly as he found them, 'I'll give you, one.' He told me quietly, a stern expression on his face.

My mouth fell open in disbelief, 'I payed for them!' I exclaimed, forgetting myself. Bucky put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and walked up to me. He took a cigarette out of the pack and opened his hand expectantly, I gave him the lighter and he lit his cig, taking a puff and leaving it between his lips. He rested his elbows on the windowsill behind me and leaned forward, leveling his head with mine. Moving past my head, gracing my cheek with his as he blew the smoke out of the window, then leaned back. He had one arm on each side of me, crossed behind my back, he had me pinned between him and the window. Our faces were inches apart, both painfully aware that this wasnt appropriate of a daughter and the family friend, but the wine had pushed out any reason or logic of our minds. I couldnt help but look away, suddenly shy. Luring a smile from him as he observed the way a blush crept its way up my cheeks. I took the cig from him, my fingertips acidentally grazing his lips, and placed it between my own. I took a puff and faced him again, our eyes locked, sharing hidden thoughts through transparent gazes.

Energy sizzled in the air, building onto the tension between us, magnetizing it, pulling at the invisible string that connected us. 'Let me taste.' He whispered, inching closer. I hesitated, before slowly exhaling the smoke as he breathed it in, sharing the toxic cloud between us, poisoning our judgement. I felt myself drawn closer to him, the string pulling taunt on both ends, his lips a mere ghost over mine. Temptation coarsed through our veins, causing heavy breathing as we fought our urges. But we both gave in, in the end.

Our lips met in a soft kiss, he moved his arms from the windowsill and grabbed my waist. I was taken off guard, but welcomingly so. Complicated feelings bounced through my mind, but I couldnt back down now. I hurridly snuffed out the cigarette against the sill and snaked my hands around his neck as I kissed him back, pulling him closer. His hands found their way under my shirt, sliding up my torso until his fingertips touched the plush flesh of my breasts. He inhaled sharply, the oxygen returning to his brain as common sense flooded back to him. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, this was his best friends daughter. He tore free from the claws of desire, grabbing my arms and unhooking them from his neck, he backed up. I reached out for him, but he pulled away, sitting down at the end of his bed, he laid his head in his hands, a labored sigh leaving him.

'We cant, you know we cant.' He whispered, voice muffled against his palms. I did know, but I couldnt help it. I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around his, grabbing his bicep as I rested my head against his shoulder. He sat straighter, letting one of his hands fall to my knee as the other stroked my hair, he kissed the top of my head.

'I just- Why did it turn out this way?' I asked him quietly, my voice quivering 'I know we cant, but. . .' I paused, thinking of the right words. His hand slid from my hair to gently caress my cheek, then tracing his fingers finger along my jaw until they found purchase under my chin and tilted my face to meet his. I searched his gaze for something unknow to me, 'I need you.' I whispered foolishly, my eyes watering, 'This is all your fault you know, your stupid smile and caring words.' I laughed mirthlessly, keeping my eyes locked on his, as a tear threatened to fall.

He cupped my face with boths hands, looking at me with a sorrowful expression as he leaned his forehead against mine.

'Bucky, please.' I whispered, leaning into his touch 'If you cant have me, stop this.' I pulled one of his hands from my face, clasping my own around it and kissed his palm softly before letting it fall to my lap.

'I cant get stuck. . . Wanting your love if you cannot give it to me.' I told him quietly, squeezing his hand as my voice broke, I leaned back, meeting his eyes again, pleading, 'Please say something.'

But he remained quiet as his eyes welled, admiring my blushed, tear streaked face.

My eyebrows furrowed, not understanding how he could be so cruel. A tear finally rolled down my cheek and my chin quivered in disbelief, I was nothing more than a naive girl to him.

I looked away, not wanting him to see the pain he caused me. I took his silence as a rejection and moved to stand, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving, 'Let me go.' I cried silently, unwilling to face him as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood again, pulling, trying to unclasp my hand from his grip but I could not, 'Please Buck, I cant do this.' I croaked, looking up at the ceiling as I tried to blink my tears away.

'Look at me.' He ordered softly, but I refused. 'Doll.' He whispered in warning, but hearing his name for me only made my cry harder, I pulled on his grip again but he was unrelenting. 'Sit, please.' He asked this time, desperation burried in his voice.

'No.' I answered, resolute.

As I was not cooperating, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled me back down and cupped my face as kissed me harshly, I fought him out of anger, but quickly melted into his touch, all was forgiven, it had always been.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moaning from just the taste of me. My hands found their way to his brown locs, burrying themselves, while his hands felt their way down my body. We fell backwards onto the bed and he cilimbed on top of me, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. His lips found my neck, trailing kisses from my jaw to collarbone as his hand kneaded its way up my thigh, my skirt catching on his wrist. His lips left my skin as he sat up, scaring me for a moment as I thought he changed his mind. But he climbed down to the foot of the bed, knees on the floor and hooked his hands under my kees, pulling me to the edge of the bed. His hands found my panties and ripped them off, I gasped from the sudden gust of cold air hitting my wet core. He kissed my thighs, licking and nipping as he worked his way inwards, panting inbetween pecks, desperate to taste me. He looked up at me, meeting my eyes as he hovered over my core, his breath fanning over my clit, he looked like a crazed mad man. The anticipation was overflowing, I bit my lip, nodding for him to go ahead and he dove in. Lapping at my clit, tasting me. I almost screamed from the sudden sensation, but covered my mouth at the last second. I rutted my hips against him, hoping for further friction, but his hands grabbed my hips, holding me down so he could please with intention. I whined, grabbing at the sheets, pulling on them for support, It wasnt enough.

'More, more.' I moaned, and he obligingly latched onto my clit, sucking as two of his fingers found their way inside me, thrusting and curling at my pleasure. Breathy moans escaped me as I was getting closer to cumming.

'Close, real close' I managed with a mumbling voice, he squeezed my hip in reassurance, telling me it was alright. I hummed as the knot in my stumache pulled tighter, he pushed another finger inside me and im convinced I saw the light. I came tumbling over the edge, stiffling another scream by shoving my face into the bed. And as I was catching my breath, he kissed his way back up to me, climbing on top once again, he snaked one arm under my back to pull my shirt off, freeing my breasts, then lifted my hips to take my skirt off, followed by his own shirt and sweats. He was huge, no surpise there.

'You okay?' He asked, and I hummed in response, cupping his face and pulling him back up to my lips, kissing him with a burning passion. He pulled back, 'Use your words girl.' He said sternly.

'Need you.' I whispered, kissing him again.

'You sure doll?' he asked against my lips, I nodded enthusiastically.

'Please, Ive never wanted anything more.' I assured him. He hooked my leg onto his knee, raising it to get better access to my opening. I circled my other leg around his hip and he lined himself up with my entrance.

'Look at me.' He ordered again, and I met his eyes, gazes locked deeply as his tip teased my entrance. I admired his beautiful face as I circled my arms around his shoulders, preparing for whatever was to come. Suddenly he slid inside me and we gasped in unisome, he didnt move for a second so I could get used to his size. He stroked a strand of hair behind my ear as he admired my face, 'My beautiful girl.' He whispered, making my heart beat faster.

He pulled out of me and thrusted in again softly, setting a slow but intent pace. Each thrust took my breath away, all the while he was grunting in my ear. His hand found its way to my throat, closing around it and squeezed, putting slight pressure on it and stealing another moannfrom me in the process. He graced his nose against my cheek, kissing my jaw as he thrusted deeper, and I met them with desperate ruts, 'C'mon doll, just like that.' He encouraged me in a breathy voice, that alone couldve been enough to make me cum. He trailed kisses down my chest and latched onto my breast, taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at my nipple as his hand found the other, kneading it intently.

'Getting- closer.' I hummed, but his thrusting slowed, eventually stopping completley. 'Buck?' I questioned, and he let go of my breasts, pulling out of me completley, pleasure and confusion mixed my mind into a strange mess. He backed up, grabbed my legs, raising them and in one solid motion hooked them onto his shoulders and thrust into me again, deeper than ever before. A loud moan tore through me, to blided by the feeling that I completley forgot about being silent. His hand quickly covered my mouth as he began a ruthlessly deep and hard pace, rocking my entire body. His mouth quickly replaced his hand, kissing me deepley, passionateley, in rythm with his thrusts.

'Almost there, doll.' He mumbled between kisses, I nodded, not able to for words, but I was close to. The knot in my stumache terribly close to coming undone once again. His thrustingbecame rougher, harder as he closed in on his orgasm, hitting that sweet spot every time. Our breaths were nothing more than frenzied moans, his pace faltered, giving it all he had for a few last thrusts before we both came undone. Warm liquid spurting into me as he collpased on top of me, resting his head in the crook of my neck and kissing my skin softly as we cought or breath, 'Good girl.' He whispered, 'My good, good girl.' He panted, still inside me as his seed slowly, sippered out of me.

My heart fluttered at his words as I fought to keep my eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from the day along with the bliss of our secret activities were catching up to us. He laid an arm around my ribbcage, pulling me closer to him, I hooked my leg over his hip and curled up to him. I gave him a quick peck on the lips as he kissed my forehead, and we fell asleep in eachothers arms.

I woke up later in the night, but in my own room. I wouldve thought I had dreamt it all if it wasnt for the blanket tucked tightly around me, still smelling of him.

Read part two HERE <3

[ramp-it-up]

Nice and Tight

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader x Chris Evans

Word Count: 1.6K.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. Read at your own risk. Threesome, Praise kink, Spit roasting, double penetration, anal sex and play, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), Daddy kink, Sir kink, allusions to Dom/ sub dynamics, voice kink if you squint, dirty talk, size kink, competition but also compersion. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is in response to an ask about the best kink. I couldn’t pick just one. Part four of The Fit and the Feel Series. Let me know if you liked it by interacting: like, comment and reblog!

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This night wasn’t turning out the way you thought it would, and this conversation was taking quite the different direction.

“I really think that we should take that drive up to Box Hill this weekend. We can get some fresh air, exercise, and continue this adventure on top of the knoll.”

Henry looked down at you and winked.

“What do you think, Dove?”

Henry responded to your silence with a frown and a slight tap on your jaw. You looked up into the twinkle of his cerulean eyes.

“Don’t be rude.”

Your eyes welled up with tears and you gulped, and your body clenched in response.

“Ah….shitttttt, Baby Doll. Fuck. So good.”

Chris groaned, finally joining the conversation.

“You have her mouth full, Cavill; give her a bit of a break. She’s a good fucking girl entertaining us both like this. So good and gotdamn tight.”

Chris was filling your ass full of his cock as you sucked Henry off. This is what you asked for. Your tears were the result of trying to breathe around Henry’s huge member as Chris fucked you slowly and steadily from behind.

The pull and the drag of Chris’s cock against your delicate walls was everything as he carefully took you apart and Henry got you back together.

You loved exactly where you were, between these two gorgeous men, and anywhere they wanted to take you to do this again was alright with you. They were unexpectedly tender and attentive, doing exactly what you requested. You weren’t mad. At all.

They were being so nice and yet so nasty at the same time.

You tried to hum an affirmative ‘Yes, Sir,’ as a response around Henry’s girth, causing his hips to stutter, and then surge forward, impaling himself further down your windpipe.

“Bloody hell, Dove. That mouth is so good. Throat so fucking snug.”

He reached down, encircled your neck with one hand to feel the bulge of himself in your tight column. He slowly pulled out and watched you cough and splutter when you took in air again.

“So lovely with your face like this…”

Henry admired you as Chris continued his débauched act behind you. You clenched again at the praise and Chris’s stroke. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure as Henry’s other hand lightly slapped and pinched your nipples, eliciting pornographic gasps and groans from you.

“Sound so gotdamn… fuck Baby Doll. Gonna make me fill your ass…”

Your eyes rolled back at the thought. Although you had prepared all day for this moment, you couldn't believe that you were actually here, paid homage to by two of the most attractive men in the world.

“And you’re absolutely gorgeous with your face all fucked out.”

You smiled and Henry gave you a filthy kiss, then lifted you carefully by your arms as he moved underneath you and between your legs.

You shuddered and moaned as his hairy body slid underneath yours, the stimulation almost too much.

Chris stilled and throbbed as Henry looked deep into your eyes and nodded, placing his hands on your waist as Chris’s hands on your hips guided you onto Henry’s cock.

“Now be a good girl, Baby Doll, and take both of us.”

“Yessssss!”

Your plaintive cry made both men clench their jaws in efforts to hold back from tearing you apart. Instead, they were oh so careful. Henry’s hand positioned himself just so as to allow you to sink onto him while keeping Chris inside you.

“Holyyyyyyy…”

Chris swore and dropped his head as your tight canal became even tighter with the intrusion of Henry on the other side of the thin bit of tissue of your perineum. He tenderly kissed

your spine as they both let you set the pace of your ruin.

You buried your face in Henry’s curls as he looked down to see the phenomenon of you three joining together. You were in nirvana as they became fully seated inside you.

When Henry looked back into your eyes, his were full of admiration.

“You are such a wonder, Dove.”

Remarkable.”

“Ohhhhhh!”

You clenched around both of them and they groaned, but stayed still as you started to move.

Beginning to rock back and forth between them, you felt the pounding of their engorged members stretching you out.

“P-please Daddy. Sir. Oh! Please move. Use me. Fill up my holes. Please please please.”

You started begging wantonly and Henry’s look changed as his eyes dilated. He took hold of your chin as Chris gripped your shoulders from behind.

“You sure that’s what you want?”

His voice was commanding, deep and smooth, like Cap.

“Y-y-yes. Please!”

“You don’t have to beg Baby Doll.” Chris slapped your ass.

“But damn if it isn’t ruining me. Keep up if you can Cavill.”

Chris pulled you up and away from Henry’s kisses, stretching your torso and giving access to your breasts to the Englishman as the Bostonian held your arms behind your back.

“Fuck you, Christopher Robin. You keep up with me.”

“No. Fuck me. Use me. I want all your cum. Both of you. I want it all.”

You felt like a queen.

“So be it.”

Henry responded with a broken voice that nearly broke you. The eye contact alone was so intimate.

Chris started going harder and Henry

matched his relentless pace, not brutal but insistent.

Soon they established a sinful rhythm that had you trembling between them. When one slid in to the hilt and the other slid out to the tip, causing your body to open and clench simultaneously.

Two sets of hands were everywhere all over you and you had one on Chris’s ass and one on Henry’s chest, feeling their sweat soaked skin and receiving surprisingly tender kisses and sweet praises from their lips. They were wrapped around you and throbbing inside you.

It was like you were one.

“Give us what we need, Dove. I can’t hold it much longer.”

Henry’s pleading eyes did something to your heart.

Chris was licking the sweat that slid down your neck. Then his earnest voice started begging, making your heart rate rise even higher.

“Yes. Please Baby Doll, you haven’t cum since we were eating you out. ‘S’been too long.”

You chuckled, because that was just a few minutes ago, but your laugh got caught in your throat as you saw Henry’s eyes shift behind you. Then, in tandem, Henry grabbed your ass to spread it wider and Chris reached between you and Henry to find your clit. It didn’t take long before you were cumming multiple times, screaming like a banshee, and not sure where one orgasm began and the other ended.

“Oh so beautiful Dove, yessss. Give.”

You took in Henry’s blissed out face and turned to give Chris a lewd kiss, sucking his tongue as Henry’s hands roamed your body and his eyes took in the scene. He was speechless as he watched and listened and felt.

“Shit, Baby Doll. You’re a marvel. S-s-so fucking hot.”

Chris spoke, groaning his praise into your ear, as he emptied his hot load inside you then held you as he slowly softened. He gently pulled out as you continued to ride Henry.

You whimpered and fell forward on Henry’s chest, trembling from the sensations.

“Careful now. Keep my cum inside you.”

Chris was marveling at your stretched out hole, plugging you with his fingers as you slid on Henry’s cock.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You made out with Chris as Henry watched, but then called your attention to him.

“Gods, Dove. This cunt is so magnificent. You. Are. Indeed. Magic.”

You sat up again, regal on the throne of Henry’s cock. You started to ride, feet up on the bed to aid your movement.

“Heavens…Dove...!”

“That’s it, Baby Doll. Rock his world. So fucking sexy.”

Chris’s fingers gently circled the rim of your wrecked anterior hole as Henry ravaged your cunt. The sensations were everything. The sights, the sounds, the smell of your sex with these two was a heady drug.

You could become addicted.

The sight of Henry in ecstasy, head thrown back and moth open whole Chris cooed on your ear was enough to send you over the edge again.

You bathed all three of you in the results of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had when you felt Henry’s warm spend wash over your walls.

“Fuck. Look at that.”

Chris’s eyes were glued to you.

“Your body is amazing, Baby Doll.”

His sky blue eyes were full of awe.

You collapsed on top of Henry again and Chris left you wrapped in the burly man’s arms. You heard the shower start in the bathroom as Henry kissed the top of your head.

“I’m in trouble, Dove. I’m afraid I’m hopelessly lost to this feeling…”

This tenderness was unexpected. You expected a night of rough domination, but received worship instead.

Before you could respond, Chris pulled you away from Henry, and carried you bridal style into the bath.

You wrapped your arms around Chris’s neck and burrowed your face into it. You didn’t want reality to intrude.

“I never thought that sharing you would finally make me fall…”

You let what Chris said sink in and walked into the shower when he put you down, not looking at him as you immersed yourself under the strong, hot spray of water. You didn’t think, just let the warm water wash over you and bring you back to earth.

You felt proximity and heat, then opened your eyes to see two sets of earnest blue eyes gazing at you in adoration.

Oh shit.

“We’ll give you anything you want Baby Doll.”

Chris’s voice was deep and soothing.

“Anything. What do you want of us, Dove? More sex, or something…more…?”

You looked from one man to the other and reached for them. Their hands were on you again, threatening ecstasy as their bodies awakened.

No, this night didn’t turn out the way you thought it would.

The question was, what were you going to do about it?

What do you think? Is reader more partial to one of these beautiful men or the other? Or is she down for both? 🤔

Let me know!

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

hi dove!!! i love your new event, the vibe is so fun and relaxing (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ could i request floyd with no.8? for backups maybe leona with no.9 or jamil with no.2? thanks!! as always don't overwork yourself ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

side note: pls no angst the pain from last time is still here(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

Fairytale Scene; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, some really soft Leona

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; Had to use your first backup, as Floyd got snatched up, but I hope you enjoy this fluffy scene and soft lion! [Damn, those eels go fast]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

An old vinyl was playing slowly on the record player, a slow jazz ensemble letting out low notes. It was pleasant, the calm music mixing with the gentle crashing of the waves coming onto shore, and the filtered sunlight coming through the linen curtains and warming up your skin. There was no rushing, no tasks that needed to be urgently done, and no one to boss you around. You could definitely get used to this. 

“You’re looking right at home there,” a soft chuckle broke you from your relaxed spell. Leona was standing in front of you, giving you a curious look. “Like a house cat sunbathing.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fitting coming from you.” You stretched out, and rolled off of the chaise you were lounging on. 

Leona sighed in mock annoyance, but he could get used to seeing you without the weight of all your responsibilities resting on your shoulders. You looked — and by all the lounging you had been doing since you had both arrived — and felt lighter as well. And in the golden sunlight? Leona swore that you were glowing.

You lazily walked over to him, placing your arms around his neck. “Is something bothering you?”

Bothering me? “No, nothing at the moment,” he said quietly. What was there to be bothered by? The two of you were together, and there was no one around to annoy the both of you. “And you?”

You hummed along to the song playing, “Nope!~” You let out a breathy chuckle and started to gently sway back and forth to the music. “Would you care to join me for this dance… your majesty?~” 

Leona groaned at the nickname; you only brought it out when you were feeling teasing. He didn’t mind though, since it didn’t hold the weight it did at the palace, or the mocking tone that others sometimes used. You just were being a teasing menace and a cute one at that.

Letting out a showy sigh he adjusted your hands so that he was holding one and the other was placed on his waist. “I suppose I can spare one for you,” he said lowly, voice barely above a grumble. 

The two of you swayed gently together to the soft music, gentle swaying, and long, slow, looping circles around the room. You were still humming the non-existent lyrics to the song, and Leona hummed softly from time to time as well, adding to the melody. Never did he think that he would end up in such a scene; dancing with someone he loved so dearly in something that he could only explain as a fairytale scene. It was soft, domestic, tender, and filled with such innocent love. All things that Leona had convinced himself that he didn’t want. But then you came into his life. You threw a wrench into his life, but what a lovely wrench it turned out to be.

The song came to an end far too soon, and the two of you came to a slow standstill, still in each other’s loose embrace. Neither of you made a move to let go, instead you both just stood there, hand in hand, your hand on his waist, and his on yours.

“You make for a good dance partner,” you chuckle.

Leona raised a brow, “And are you surprised by that?”

You bring his hand to your lips, placing a kiss on the inside of his wrist while looking at him through your lashes. “No, it’s just endearing is all.”

Leona had received kisses from you before, both soft and passionate, but this one actually made his heart flutter. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but he did know that the way you looked at him just then… he wanted you to look at him with such adoration again and again and again. It was addictive.

He brought your hand to his lips, and returned the kiss, letting it linger so he could feel your steady pulse. Perhaps the two of you should come out here more often if this was what happened… Leona could spend the rest of his life with you in this picturesque moment.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @leonistic, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts

Chapter 1 - Long Live the King!

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Next

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The Mafia world is on edge when Steve Harrington comes back to town to take over for his father. His presence sets off a whirlwind of emotions that you'd thought you'd buried long ago.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Reader is married to an abusive asshole (this will get worse as the story progresses). Reader is assaulted. Talk of death. Funeral. Drug use/abuse.

WC: 6.1K

You crept through the foyer, hoping the small sound of the door closing wouldn’t rouse anyone in the large house.

Removing your heels from your stocking clad feet, so that you could silently move through the room and quickly check your surroundings, pausing, listening. You were met with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your chest.

You thought you were in the clear, but your false sense of security was quickly shattered, rounding the corner only to be met with your husband’s steely glare. A cigarette and stiff drink in hand. He was home early.

Nikolai was a large, intimidating man with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that threatened to set anyone aflame that came near.

He was sitting in front of the large fireplace in the study. When you caught his gaze, he bid you to come forward as he set the drink down. Brining the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before resting it alongside his drink.

Dressed in his usual suit, his jacket left on the chair behind him, leaving him in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms revealing an expanse of black ink beneath.

You shuffled forward slowly, crossing your arms behind your back with your heels still dangling from your fingertips.

“Tough day, my love?” he cooed, in a sickly-sweet voice that would almost sound sincere to anyone else. His lips turned up into a cruel smirk as he turned to look at you.

You hated it when he called you that. There was only one man that said it and ever truly meant it.

“You know exactly how my day has been.” You hissed, already over his little games.

“Now kitten, a little birdie told me you were seen with him. Though, it doesn't come as a surprise.” Calm tone, but you knew that was about to change. The literal calm before the storm.

“Nik,” you started, his palm met your cheek with a sharp smack that echoed in the otherwise quiet space, along with the thud of your heels that fell from your grasp. Your eye instantly welled, unable to control the tears forming from the force of his blow. Pain instantly searing the skin.

You could taste the familiar metallic tang in your mouth, as you reached up trying to soothe the discomfort. Yet another bruise to hide in the morning.

Ever defiant, you raise your head slowly, to meet his cold, indifferent gaze.

He gripped your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

“Now, kitten,” no feeling whatsoever behind those words.

“This kind of behavior just won’t do for my reputation. I can't let you go whoring around with him out in public, making me look like a fool in the process.”

He removed his hand slightly, only to cup your cheek engulfing it with his large palm. It was tender, a stark contrast to the pain he had just inflicted. Raised welts beginning to form under his touch.

Playing this same game a dozen times over, you know how it ends. One moment an enraged monster, the next a doting husband.

He pushed your face a little harshly, putting some distance between you to take his leave.

“Clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. Your father will be joining us.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, catching the back of your head pressing you closer to his larger frame. You made no attempt to push him away, knowing it would only spur his anger.

He released you, grabbing his jacket and turning back one last time before he spoke.

“And kitten, end it. Or I will.”

Your father, the head of the crime ring. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne.

You didn’t want any of it. Caught in the middle and destined to forever be separated from the man you loved.

You thought you were being careful. You both should have known better.

8 Weeks Earlier

The gallery you managed downtown was your escape from all things family or business related. Here you could be your own person, not feeling bound by duty or marriage. It was your grandmother that instilled a love of art within you at a very young age taking you to art exhibits or museums around the city. You fell in love with the beauty and feeling of it all.

A new piece had just been delivered that you were examining, thoroughly ignoring your surroundings as usual, much too focused on the matter at hand.

You hadn’t heard him enter, as he came to stand directly behind you, pressed in much too close.

Tiny glasses perched toward the end of your nose; he watched the way you were so intently focused on nothing else in the world carefully focusing, stopping only to write small notes on the clipboard in your grasp.

“Little Dove,” clearing his throat slightly, startling you a bit.

You whirled around, only to be met with golden caramel mossy framed eyes staring back at you. The nickname uttered from his lips like soft silk.

“Steve?” you asked, almost breathless. You thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw him again.

“In the flesh.” He grinned softly, holding his arms out as if showing himself off. Dressed in a navy-blue pinstripe suit and gray turtleneck that you were sure came straight from Italy just as he had.

“What… What are you doing here?” your tone more whispered as you looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“It’s ok, I made sure to slip past them. Your tails… uh… aren’t that great.” He whispered back in a mocking tone, chuckling lightly.

“You look…” you studied the man before you. “You look different, good.”

The last time you had seen Steve he still had his boyish features, but a man stood before you now. Rugged, but clean cut, sporting shorter, more tamed hair with slight stubble lining his jaw. He was even more handsome than you remembered. Italy seemed to be treating him well.

There was an air about him that commanded attention. When he entered a crowded room, he knew everyone would fall in line. A far cry from that party boy years ago. A boy that only ever had eyes for one girl, the woman stood before him now.

“Tesoro, leave it to you to find a job surrounded by beauty but you are the most beautiful piece here.” He smiled that crooked grin that always made you melt, his words syrupy sweet, cheeks heating at the praise.

You clutched the clipboard in your hands closer to your chest, face casting downward as an attempt to hide the blush that crept across your face.

You'd been told you were beautiful by countless men your entire life but when it came from the one man that mattered you turned into a shy mess.

His attention suddenly made it feel like all those years ago, hiding away in a dark corner as he spoke sweet nothings into your ear. Trailing kisses down your neck. Telling you the endless things he'd do for you, or to you.

Two young lovers hidden away from the world with nothing but dreams in their heads and stars in their eyes. Still naive to how cruel and unfair the world could truly be.

Eight years since you've seen him and yet staring at him before you it's as if not a single day has passed. It would be so easy to pick up where you left off, if only…

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing the only reason he'd be back, shifting your gaze back to him.

“I'm sorry to hear about your father.” His smile fading as he nodded. “I know you two never saw eye to eye, but…”

“It’s okay Dove.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, eyes casting downward. “It was only a matter of time. He'd been hiding the cancer diagnosis for months now.”

So, it wasn't a rival family or hired hitman that took him out. It was cancer. Everyone had been wondering when the news had come.

“I was still sorry to hear it, Steve.” You hesitantly reached out and rested your hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “How's Pip holding up?”

Steve's younger sister, never seeing the cruel side of Richard Harrington the way he had. Pip was his Princess and she never let anyone forget that. She went to live with her mother when she was very young, only seeing Richard on holidays and birthdays. It was only natural she was devastated from his death.

“About as well as you'd expect. She uh…” pausing to scratch at his brow. A habit he always had when he was trying to find his words. “She's not doing well. I'm not sure how she's going to get through it tomorrow. I’m sending her back to live with mamma. I think it'll do her some good to get out of the city for a while.”

You didn't pry, knowing Pip was a little reckless and wild. She always gave Steve a run for his money when they were younger. Seems things hadn't changed much for her.

“I'm surprised she's listening to you.” You laughed out.

“I'm not giving her a choice.” You nodded in understanding. Steve was already taking his new role as head of the family very seriously, but you'd expect nothing less.

He was born to one day take over for his father, trained and taught all the ins and outs of this life from a very young age. He would, no doubt in your mind, lead the entire city one day, especially hearing the rumors from across the sea about how ruthless he could be, but you couldn't quite imagine the Steve you once knew to be anything but the kind, caring gentleman before you.

In this world, those kinds of assumptions are what get you killed, and you knew full well Steve had changed. You were unsure of just how much.

As comfortable silence fell between you, he allowed himself to let his eyes linger over you once more. Your back stiffened as you looked from the entrance back to him, shattering this moment of peace as reality settled back in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington it's been nice seeing you, but I must get back to work before those two idiots do their walk through to check up on me.”

“Ms. Alexander.” He smiled, nodding his goodbye.

“It's Mrs. Alexander-Petrov, but you know that.” He did know, but his jaw tightened when he heard it spoken aloud. To imagine you and Nikolai Petrov together made his blood boil.

Little Niki had been a vile womanizer. He and Steve knew each other from boyhood and their father’s dealings. He just hoped he was good to you and worships you the way he himself wishes he could.

“Right. Apologies Mrs. Alexander-Petrov. I'll see myself out. Take care, Tesoro.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi.” You called after him.

“Of course, Dove.” Stopping to look at you one last time.

You watched him exit out the back, through the alleyway.

There was still something there. That spark you couldn't deny. Maybe it was just you looking for closure but deep down you knew it would never truly be over between you. He

was your first love, always hoping he would have been your last.

It was a somber affair with a huge turnout. The Church was packed full of mournful guests.

For a funeral, it was still lavish. Old world money mixed with new. Women flaunting their Gucci or Louis Vuitton came second nature. Men with their expensive suits and gold watches. Any excuse to flaunt the wealth they had accumulated.

Family and business associates mingled, sewing together their tales and fond memories of the late Richard Harrington.

If you looked closely at the crowd, you could spot a few enemies mixed within, come to see the bastard exactly where they'd wished him to be.

As is tradition, you didn't necessarily come to pay respect to the dead, but you still paid respect to the family.

Steve and Pip, at the head of the church, accepting well wishes from each person that passed by. Eddie stood a few feet away giving them space but if anyone truly knew him, he was just as much family as the Harrington siblings.

Steve was stoic. From the moment you spotted him, you could tell he was trying to be strong. You couldn't help thinking of how handsome he looks, even in this setting. Pip could never hide her emotions, every person she talked with sent a fresh wave of tears flowing.

You had accompanied your father, David Alexander. Nikolai had excused himself from coming at the last minute, saying he had an emergency to take care of at the club. You didn't buy his lie but didn't bother arguing.

You had dressed simply, all black like the rest of the crowd. Knee length, quarter sleeved dress. Tight, but not suffocating. Modest compared to Pip’s attire. That girl never knew how to do anything simple or modest, her flamboyant personality would never allow it.

You both stood in line to see them, your eyes darting back up to Steve every few minutes.

“You're too quiet. What's eating at you?” Your dad leaned over to whisper.

“Hmm?” Your eyes shot up to his. “Nothing, just a lot on my mind.”

He squinted down at you as your head drifted toward the front once again. He followed your gaze, softly smiling to himself.

“Steven’s looking well, no? That boy has really grown into his own.”

You placed your arm around his when he extended his elbow, comfortably settling your hand to his forearm as he led you down the aisle.

“Yes, he looks well.” You hummed and nodded.

Your father grinned to himself as your eyes traveled back toward the front. He patted your hand and sighed as the line in front of you began to dwindle.

The couple ahead of you peeled themselves away from the siblings. Revealing you and your father to them.

Steve's eyes lit up immediately, but he held his solemn expression trying not to give himself away.

Your father spoke up first.

“Steven, my boy,” holding out his hand to greet him. “It's good to see you. My condolences, to you and your sister.”

Steve shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“Please, call me David, son.” It made your heart warm faintly at the thought of your father seeing Steve for not only the man he now was but as an equal, first name basis was usually left for business partners or family only. Your father commanded an air of respect, especially from other families.

Their small talk faded from you as you looked over at Pip. She was so different from the last time you'd seen her. Her frame appearing thin with a sickly pallor accompanying dark sunken eyes.

When she spotted you staring at her, she smiled sweetly, reaching out to hug you.

“Dove!” She almost shrieked.

Your arms hugged her tightly to your chest, confirming what your eyes had seen. She was thin, strikingly so, filling you with worry.

“Pip, I’m so sorry sweet girl.” You soothingly rubbed her back, as a sob racked her body. You let her shed a few tears as she sniffed and leaned back up wiping at her cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, it's just hard knowing he's truly gone. But it's so good to see you. Let's catch up soon.” You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. She didn't let go immediately, grasping a little harder.

“Dove, will you please sit with me during the service?” Her eyes softly pleading, reminding you of your days as children when she would beg you to play a game or watch a movie instead of hanging out with her brother. She was by all accounts your little sister too.

“If it's alright with Steve, I…”

“Steve doesn't care. Do you, Stevie?” Her hand flew up, batting his chest as he gritted his teeth releasing a harsh breath.

“Not at all, Dove. But only if you're comfortable with…”

“She's fine Steve. Thank you, Dove!” She hugged you once more as you heard Steve mumble, “anything for the Princess.”

She shot him a glare before releasing you as you turned your attention toward him.

“Steve, I'm so sorry.” You wound your arms around his neck. His stiff demeanor immediately deflated and melted with your soft touch as his arms found their way around your waist, pressing you further into him. His scent enveloped you, smelling of the warm, spicy cologne he wore.

You held each other for a moment too long, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace, finally coming to your senses and easing back.

“I guess I'll see you up there.” Taking a step further back, seeing him nod.

“I…” He was about to speak before someone cut him off with more condolences as you shied away searching for your father who had already taken a seat in the back, speaking with some men that ran in his circle.

You weaved your way in and out of the crowd. Chatting with familiar faces and being polite to those you didn't quite know.

As the music began to play, everyone found their respective seats for the service to begin. You made your way to the front, feeling eyes on you as you went.

Pip was seated right beside Steve, but once she spotted you, she scooted over. Patting the space between the two of them.

You sat closer to her, trying not to crowd Steve into the corner.

“Thank you, Dove.” She whispered, taking your hand in hers. Black gloves covering her dainty fingers.

“Of course.” You stared ahead, trying not to cut your eyes over to him. The small space between you didn't shield you from the heat that radiated from him.

He remained quiet, but you heard him sigh softly. You wished you could hold his hand and bring him some sense of comfort. In another time and place you could imagine taking your seat beside him without the judgmental looks and hushed whispers.

The service went swiftly, Pip leaning on your shoulder and clutching your hand the entire time as she sobbed and sniffled. Steve maintained the same level of stoicism throughout.

You lost your mother at a very young age. The loss of a parent is something you never truly get over. You could relate in some sense, though you never truly knew your mother.

“Dove, you can ride with us to the cemetery. There's more than enough room.” She leaned over to whisper while they were finishing up, garnering Steve's attention as well.

“Pip.” He hissed, throwing her a warning glare.

“What?” She whispered more loudly, looking past you then.

“I'm sure she doesn't have all day to babysit you.” He said it without looking back at her.

You could see the sadness slowly subside on her face, as it was replaced with anger.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She spat, getting up from her seat, loud in the relatively quiet space while the priest was finishing his last prayer, momentarily causing him to pause, as she stomped down the aisle.

You were taken aback by the outburst but not surprised. Pip was a loose cannon, especially when it came to Steve. Two such domineering personalities that always clashed.

He was about to get up, but you grabbed his forearm stopping him, as he looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, don't worry. I'll go after her. You stay.” You reassured him.

“You don't have to do that. She's just…” he whispered.

“No, it's okay. Let me go talk to her.”

He nodded, as you slid from the seat. Holding your head high as you followed her, avoiding sideways gazes thrown your way.

You found her sitting on the steps outside the church, smoking a cigarette. Her mascara had begun to run but she hasn't bothered trying to wipe it away this time.

“Hey, you.” You lowered yourself down, knocking your shoulder into hers as you sat.

She took a long drag, exhaling toward the sky as the smoke curled away from her lips, letting the ashes fall to the concrete beside her.

“He doesn't have to treat me like a child. I know I've got issues but I'm not a fucking child. Mr. I don't show my emotions so you shouldn't either. Our dad died. You think the least he could do is show me a little compassion or act like he gives a shit.” She released a tagged sigh, taking the cigarette to her lips once more.

“I don't think he necessarily means to make you feel like that. Steve has a lot on his shoulders and your dad, well… he and Steve never saw eye to eye. I know he's hurting too, but he has to be strong. You know how it is with these men.” You rubbed soothing circles to her back as you spoke.

She sniffed, pulling a tissue out to wipe her face.

“I can ride to the cemetery with you. I don't mind.”

“That'd be nice.” A faint smile crossed her face, as you wrapped your arm around her waist. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Wait for me?”

“Of course.” You helped her up, following her back into the lobby as the service ended, watching her disappear into the restroom.

You caught your father on his way out, letting him know you were going with them, and he could head home if he needed to.

“If you're sure.” He kissed your forehead, before leaving you to stand by the door waiting for her to exit, when Steve strode up beside you.

“Where's Pip?!” He asked, a little breathless.

“She's in the restroom.” As soon as you got the sentence out, he began to bang on the door, twisting the knob.

“Steve, what're you doing? For God's sake, give her a little privacy.” You pleaded.

“Pip, open the goddamn door.” He rushed out, pounding his fists harder than before, looking worried when he was met with silence.

“Steve?” You looked around, a crowd slowly gathering around at his outburst.

“Just step back, I'm knocking the door down.”

You did as you were told, with your heart beginning to pound in your chest at how worried he seemed.

“Pip, I'm coming in!” He shouted, before his shoulder slammed into it, knocking it open as he rushed in.

You turned the corner to see Pip, slumped over against the back wall passed out. Your mind didn't comprehend what you were seeing at first.

He knelt down beside her, pulling her face up and lightly slapping her cheek.

“Pip! Wake up! Goddamnit!” His fingers flew to her neck, checking for a pulse.

It all seemed to be happening in slow motion as you watched the scene unfold. Eddie rushed in beside you, as Steve yelled at him to bring the car around, lifting her up with him from the ground, moving aside as he passed you.

It was frantic, the sea or people parting to let them go by as you stood there in shock. Watching Steve run with her lifeless body in tow.

Only coming to your senses when you hear someone close by seemingly laughing at the scene. “Pip, always the life of the party.” They sneered.

You looked around the small bathroom, spotting her purse on the floor, quickly picking it up and taking it with you avoiding the gazes of onlookers but keeping your head held high all the way.

Richard Harrington was buried while colleagues and friends looked on. None of his children were there to see him interred.

You were ringing your hands in the back seat as your chauffeur took you across town the next morning. Nerves getting the better of you.

It has been years since you've seen the Harrington residence but as soon as it comes into view memories begin to flood your mind.

There were the sweet moments when you were young children. Playing in the garden or swimming in the pool. You, Steve and Pip. Much simpler times when a game of hide and seek could keep you all occupied for hours.

Isabella Harrington had finally had enough right after Steve turned 10, leaving Richard and taking Pip with her back to Italy. She didn't leave Steve to fend for himself intentionally but given the option of losing both her children or taking Pip, she has no other choice.

Suddenly, the play dates were dwindling, and you began to see less and less of Steve. Separate schools made it even harder but despite it all you remained close.

You'd been in love with Steve since you were 12 when he told you that one day he was going to marry you and gave you your first kiss behind the pool house.

So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't heard the driver or noticed the car had stopped.

“Miss? Are you alright?” He said a little louder, catching your attention and thoroughly pulling you from your daydream.

“Hmmmm? Yes, fine, thank you.” Replying quickly.

“We’ve arrived, Mrs. Petrov.” He said as he exited the car, coming around to get your door.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you removed yourself, neck craning upward. The house seemed bigger, more intimidating than you remembered.

Immediately clocking several security personnel stationed in various positions around the yard, no doubt already alerting him to your arrival as you stepped across the cobblestone drive, heels a little unsteady against the uneven stone.

Reaching the few steps to the large front door, it opened before you had the chance to knock.

“Hi stranger!” Eddie beamed down at you. Curls tied back into a low bun, still dressed to impress. Burgundy silk dress shirt thrown over his frame, tattooed forearms on display. He was handsome in his own right.

“Hi Eddie! How have you been?” You stepped closer to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Sorry we didn't get to chat yesterday.”

“Doing well, and don't sweat it. There was a lot going on.” He laughed, albeit a little nervously as he pulled back. “He's in the office, you can follow me.”

You remembered the layout fairly well, the office was at the back of the house on the first floor. A large space, with windows overlooking the expanse of the back garden.

Eddie walked quietly ahead of you, as you looked around the house. It was exactly as you remembered. Dark walls with marble flooring leading to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

He didn't bother knocking, as you followed him in. The curtains were drawn back from the windows letting the natural light illuminate the space.

Steve leaned against the far wall staring out the window. He was dressed down in a sky blue short sleeved shirt and cream-colored trousers. He turned, chestnut locks a little unkempt with a thin gold chain resting against his chest.

He turned in time to see you both enter, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway.

“Dove! What a pleasant surprise.” He flashed you a warm smile, turning to dismiss Eddie as he closed the door behind him.

“I brought Pip’s clutch.” Holding out for him to take.

“Thanks, I'll let her know. Though I'm not sure she even missed it.” He sighed, easing it from your hand, tossing it to the desk beside him.

You'd heard she'd barely made it to the hospital. Apparently, the coke she had ingested was laced with fentanyl. Pip was a party girl, she hadn't intentionally tried to overdose which was a relief, all things considered.

“How is she?” You asked.

“I honestly don't know. I thought she…” His face flashed with momentary worry, before shaking it off. “She's going to rehab before I send her back to Italy. I think this might have actually scared some sense into her even though she's pissed at me.”

“You're doing the right thing. She needs you to be there for her.” Reassuring him.

He nodded before you both fell into a comfortable silence as your eyes took in the room. He had already begun renovating it to his liking which made you smile.

“I thought it could use an update.” He said, as if reading your mind.

The wallpaper was being taken down, replaced with a fresh coat of paint. Steve has always hated his father's gaudy taste, as if he needed to remind himself of his wealth in his own office. Steve was humble, he didn't need to flaunt and inflate himself to others. You admired him for that, always staying true to himself.

“I'm sure it'll be perfect. Doing the whole house, I hope? The medieval dungeon theme is so last year.” He chuckled.

“You don't like it? I thought about adding some chains and cuffs in the hall to really set it off.” You both laughed.

“But, yes I'm planning an overhaul for the entire house.” For a moment he wondered what you would do with the place. He could imagine the way your eyes lit up knowing you could make it your own.

A place for you and him to raise a couple of kids, have family dinners every Sunday and eventually grow old together. Or would you want to move out of the city altogether? Sell this old house and start anew?

If only he knew the similar thoughts that swirled through your mind but you couldn't allow yourself to dwell.

You suddenly checked your watch, clearing your throat.

“I'm sorry to cut this short, I've got a client coming by in a few.” Sighing to yourself.

“No worries. I'll let Pip know you brought this by.” Holding her purse up for emphasis. “Let me walk you out.”

He followed closely behind you down the hall, just shy of reaching his palm out to your lower back, into the foyer as one of the security guards opened the front door.

You turned once more to bid him farewell but it was he who spoke first.

“Dove, you're welcome here anytime. Please, stop by. I'll even show you my fancy cooking skills sometime.” He grinned, the smile reaching his eyes, boyish and bright.

“Steve Harrington cooks? This I'll have to see.” Mirroring his smile, as your driver opened your door. “Bye Steve.”

He waved, as you got in and continued to watch your car exit the drive.

He couldn't explain it. The inexplicable need to be near you. Wishing for another life. A once upon a time he could have had with you.

Alone in his big house, with no one to share it with, he sighed heavily making his way back to his office.

Fairy tales, he thinks. Meant for much gentler souls than he. Someone deserving of it, brave and pure of heart, just like the stories his mother used to read to him and Pip when they were still children, still room to believe in such notions as soul mates and true loves first kiss.

Eddie was waiting there, sitting behind his desk.

“Call for you.” He stated, getting up from the chair extending the phone towards him.

“Take a message, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll call them back.” He crossed the room, pouring himself a drink.

“Steve, I think you're going to want to take this.”

You hated lying but you had to get out of there.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories seemed to overtake you when you stepped through the threshold of a home that you practically grew up in.

You dreaded going back to your own home. A home that you'd hoped one day would have been filled with love that never came to fruition.

Such high hopes in the beginning with Nikolai.

He was the perfect gentleman. A whirlwind romance that had you so swept away you didn't see his true colors until it was too late.

So caught up with what he was, but it was truly only what he showed you. What he wanted you to believe.

Soon after your marriage, it was late nights at his clubs coming home smelling of liquor and sweet smelling perfume that turned into not coming home at all some nights.

You'd wanted white picket fences and children laughing down the hall. He gave you heartache and crying alone in your empty king sized bed.

Almost five years later and you're left to question if he ever loved you or if it had all been a strategy to gain his power.

Later that night you were in the study reading on the large sofa, room lit softly by the fireplace. Cozy in silk pajamas and your favorite blanket, it was the perfect end to the day as you sipped some wine.

Nik slipped in, late as usual, loosening his tie as he stomped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed.

“Well, nice to see you too, dear.” You didn't look up, only rolling your eyes. “It looks like I'm reading, no?”

“Why the hell did you go to Harrington's today?” He stepped in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I was returning Pip’s clutch. She left it at the church.” Shrugging and returning to your book as if it should be the end of it.

“You expect me to believe that?” He leaned down, arm caging you in, as he swiftly pulled the book from your hand tossing it in the empty space of the couch beside you. Closing in, almost nose to nose, as his imposing frame hovered over you.

“It's the truth, Nik. I really don't care what you choose to believe.” You spat back at him. Not at all in the mood for his little games or vile attitude.

You knew the only reason he skipped the funeral was because he had a bone to pick with Richard. Now it seems he's trying to take it up with Steve.

You pushed his chest, getting up from the couch as you started to cross the room now done with the conversation but he grabbed your arm, wrenching you back around to face him.

“Let's get one thing straight, YOU, under no circumstances, are to see him again.” His grip tightening as he spoke. He'd never laid a hand on you, but the way he was squeezing you now was surely going to leave a mark.

“Nik, let me go. You can't forbid me to stay away from my childhood friends. You're being ridiculous. Steve is not Richard. You have nothing against him.” His grip only grew tighter, shaking you just a bit as you tried to pull yourself free. “Nik! Let go of me!”

“No Y/N! I mean it. You are not to see him again!” Screaming in your face, droplets of spital flying toward you. “Do you understand me?”

You finally nodded. Worrying if you tried to push the issue further it would only make things worse.

“Say it!” He shouted.

“I understand. Now, let me go!” He did so, pushing you slightly away from him.

“Good.” He sneered, smirk now donning his face as he brushed past you on his way to pour himself a drink from the small bar in the corner of the room as you quickly grabbed your things.

You passed one of Nik’s security details, whose gaze fell away from you as you rushed out of the room, he'd overheard the entire thing. You were mortified at his behavior. Nik was a grade A asshole but he had never been physical.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your room, heaving a sigh of relief as you locked the door behind you. Glad to have some kind of barrier between the two of you tonight.

Running into the bathroom, you slid your robe from your shoulder to examine your arm. It was already starting to form finger shaped bruises.

You could easily hide them, wearing long sleeves, which you did most days. It was horrifying to think you had no choice but to hide them. HE had done this to you.

You washed your face and slid into bed, crying softly to yourself as your mind began spiraling. This was a life you had never wanted.

A husband that never looks at you, unless it's with disdain and contempt. Now seemingly hell bent on keeping you in line the way he sees fit. When words don't work, he'll easily use brute force to bend you to his will.

Telling Steve would be completely out of the question for both of your sakes, but in the coming days you would soon find out how difficult it would be to avoid him completely.

[obanaispy]

DOVES IN THE WIND

cast ! gojo satoru + y/n { fem body. she/they pronouns. }

wc ! 1.1k

tldr ! y/n hates a guy so much.. she fucks him!

content ! pussy eating + mild dirty talk + drug use

a/n ! MDNI . thank you all so much for 400 followers! this is my gift to you all, a two parter! also have some ex hubby eren coming back… send it your suggestions & enjoy! 🐁

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Chill..Was this invitation only?”

“We have a strict no douche policy”

“Well then, guess I have nothing to worry about.”

I huffed as Gojo pushed past me, walking into my kitchen like he owned the place. Body way too fucking relaxed for my comfortability. Did he even bring any liquor to the function? A joint? Shit, a deck of cards? Of course not, yet everyone screamed his name in joy as soon as he was spotted. My eyes rolled as I followed him, just to make sure he didn’t slip a bottle in his pants or some shit.

“Cmon Y/n… loosen up” his voice boomed, smirking at me once he saw the glare painted on my face. I wanted to grip his lips in my hand and rip off that smug look. “I know you’re used to being loose but.. i’m good the way I am” I shot back, a bitter, buttery smile coming onto my face. This was the first party of my college spring break and I held the honor of planning it. I had to be sure that everything was perfect. So far, everyone was drunk or cross faded but me. Sighing out, I decided to simply ignore the frosted haired freak pouring a round of shots for everyone out of a bottle he simply did not own.

Call me a tight ass but, Gojo deserves not a lick of sympathy from me. Not only did he make my life a living hell with the constant flirting in high school— he also didn’t stop once we entered college. I feel like he has some sort of weird fetish when it comes to being cussed out by me, not to shame anyone of course. I would be chill with it if I was getting paid.. or if he wasn’t so annoying. Taking two shots back to back, my face twisted into a grimace before refocusing once again, eyes deciding to land on Gojo. Fuck. He was coming over.

Quickly, I took a swig out of the bottle, fuck the cup. I couldn’t bear looking at his smug face without a little assistance.

“Y/n.. my bad for just waltzing into your house. Your roommate invited me..” she invited this douche? I'm turning off the wifi tomorrow. Y/n tuned back in at a comment that piqued their interest. “Can I roll you a joint?”. Ah, so you did decide to bring something instead of being a freeloader they thought to themself.

“Sure. I would never say no to free drugs”

Now, since when did free drugs equal making out with your sworn enemy? Was it because of that last shot of Casamigos? Tequila goes straight to my fat mama, I knew that. What I didn’t know is that I would find myself in my bedroom with the Gojo Satoru, shirt thrown on my floor and a sock hanging off my door handle. Gojo’s hands ran from my shoulders to my chest, groping my boobs through my lace bra. My hands were fumbling through his hair, my legs moving backwards to walk us to my bed.

I swear they had a mind of their own.

“This is the real Y/n, huh? This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” Gojo chuckled, ignoring the way Y/n mumbled for him to shut up. Their hands fought to get the other undressed first, Y/n now only in their panties. Gojo gently pushed them onto the bed, hands massaging her hips as his lips ran across their neck. His tongue swirled, lips latching onto the tender spots she had told not a single soul about. “You gonna eat this pussy or what” Y/n asked bluntly, earning a snort from Gojo.

“What happened to please?” he chuckled, mouth slowly running down to close around her puffy nipples. His hands made themselves busy, pulling down Y/n’s panties before palming her cunt. A finger slid between their folds before slipping inside of them. A second joined the first immediately, pumping and curling deeper into her heaven as his eyes looked down on the way her face reacted to those tender areas being stimulated. Gojo’s thumb pressed against their clit, rotating as his fingers increased in speed.

“So that’s what you like, huh? Like when I stretch that cunt? I can feel you tightening around me.. gonna cum already?”

Y/n scoffed, trying to sound annoyed through her breathy moans. “Of c-course not.. don’t… don’t flatter yourself.” As catty as she was being, they didn’t want for him to stop. His mouth replaced his thumb, tongue swirling around their clit, flicking against it before pressing down flatly— head shaking from left to right. His fingers never stopped, his free hand holding Y/n down against the bed as her body trembled and squirmed. Fuck. Gojo was annoying but he sure knew how to eat pussy. His face came up for a brief moment, chin and eyes glistening for different reasons.

“You on the pill?”

*Record scratch*

What the fuck was I doing here? No seriously like.. I have GOT to be drunk off my ass. Did this fucking guy think we were about to be passionately fucking? I was just trying to give fat mama her time to shine! She deserved a little nibble.

“Uhh.. yes but..” shit. Why did Y/n feel so awkward? The high was coming down and although she could hear her cunt basically squeaking out his name between the now annoying throbs— maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Gojo liked to talk and Y/n didn’t want to be yet another one of his topics. “You should head back downstairs..”. Gojo immediately brought his body up completely, expression looking as if he was trying to figure out how to respond like his ego wasn’t just hit with an uppercut.

“Ah.. got it.” he smiled, standing as his cock stood with him. Looking down, his face tinted pink, hands going to cover himself. “Nice sheets.” he shot, chuckling as he walked out leaving Y/n alone, naked and horny. Looking down at her pompompurin themed bedspread they sighed, plopping backwards in hopes of falling through the mattress.

I didn’t know which one was worse, my hangover or my anxiety. Fuck it, both of those bitches were tied. I had successfully managed to make my way around campus without running into.. you know who. Now, all I had to do was go home and wait until my skull wasn’t being cracked open by my poor decisions.

Gojo was waiting at my car. How did he still look good after last night? I wanted to punch him in his annoying, smug face. “Can we talk?” he asked, throwing me off guard. Why so serious? I looked around before giving my attention back to him, “fine but… let’s go to my house. I don’t want to be seen out here with you.”

“Lead the way.”

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Mistletoe Mini One Shots!

Primo: 

Primo, surprisingly, was all about kissing you under the mistletoe. He would always joke about how he was an old man now, his days of being rambunctious and partaking in such a childish activity we're far behind him. That being said, he never missed an opportunity to kiss you. He would grab you by the waist and pull you to him. "Belissima, I hope you know how much I cherish spending the holidays with you." He would always mutter something cute and meaningful to you. Yes, being his Prime Mover meant you had duties that needed to be filled, but to Primo you were so much more than that. You were this man's earth, moon, and stars and he would never let you forget that. You two would exchange hushed I love you's before Primo would capture your lips in a tender kiss, neither of you able to stop the smiles on your face.

Secundo: 

Secundo wasn't the most festive person but he was more than willing to participate in something silly if it meant making you happy. "My dove, you've kissed me a thousand times before, what about kissing under a plant makes you so giddy." He would chuckle at your excitement."

What? Do you not want to kiss me?" You would tease, grin growing as you held your hands behind your back and meandered closer to him

He clicks his tongue at you in response, "Tesoro, there is not a single second of the day that I wouldn't want to kiss you." He slides his hand gently across your cheek, thumb softly stroking your skin. "Is this what you want my dove? Would it make you happy for me to kiss you under the mistletoe?" The low, gravelly tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Please..." Was the only word you could mumble out. He lets out a small laugh at your doe eyed expression.

"I love you tesoro." Despite Secundo's cold exterior there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes as he looked down at you.

"I love you Papa." You return his warm gaze, both of you leaning in to share a sweet kiss.

Terzo: 

You let out an excited shriek as Terzo grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, peppering your face with kisses. Unlike his brothers he was very enthusiastic about the holiday season. "Cara mia, don't you just love this time of year?" It has become a yearly tradition for you and your husband to get bundled up and go look at the decorations around the Abbey. Unlike his brothers, Terzo was all about celebrating the holidays. He loved cuddling with you by a warm fire, baking Christmas cookies, and going ice skating. Terzo was something straight out of a postcard this time of year, you loved getting to spend the holidays with him. "Is that mistletoe I see?" He asks with a devious smirk. You giggle, holding his face tenderly in your hands.

"Mistletoe or not, just kiss me you idiot." He happily obliges your request, lips crashing into yours in the skilled yet clumsy kiss you had fallen in love with. He holds you by the waist, lifting you from the floor and spinning you around as he kissed me.

"Ti voglio bene cara mia." He holds your chin gently between his fingers, allowing your gazes to linger on each other.

"Ti amo di più Papa." He holds you close, lips catching yours for another kiss.

Copia: 

"Amore mio, could you come here for a second?" You rose from your position on the sofa, where you were currently reading a book, to answer Copia's call from your shared bedroom. "Do you remember where we put my Santa costume? I have some gifts to bring down to the children's wing and I'd like to dress up for the occasion." He turns to you with a big smile, one of Copia's favorite traditions for the holidays was to deliver gifts to the children of the Abbey. You join him in the cramped closet to help him look.

"We definitely had a box of Christmas stuff in here somewhere from that photoshoot." You kneel next to him, digging all the way to the back until you find a box labeled X-Mas. You lugged it to the front and tore it open, Copia retrieving the Santa suit from the top. What lay underneath the red sea of fabric is what caught your eye. A single sprig of mistletoe, the same one that you held over your head last year to get him to kiss you for the first time. You lifted the plant gingerly from the box, holding it high over your head and looking up at Copia with wide, innocent eyes. He was saying something about how happy he was to find the suit, pausing halfway through when his eyes landed on you. His hand caressed the side of your face, lifting your chin so your eyes could meet his.

"You never fail to take my breath away with how beautiful you are amore Mio." The compliment came out shaky and nervous, a straight you had grown to find rather adorable from your Papa. You smiled as Copia's lips found yours, your arms wrapping around each other in a tender embrace.

Sodo: 

You couldn't stop the laughter that left you as Sodo held up what he was hiding behind his back. A plastic frog with a nerf bullet tied to its back with red ribbon. Sodo looked confused, his eyes switching between you and the frog. "What? Swiss told me to kiss you under the missile toad!"

"Mistletoe babe, the plant." You take his face in your hands, peppering his cheeks with kisses. "You're adorable, you know that?" The Ghoul blushes at your compliment. He suddenly pulls you to him, lips crashing against yours in a clumsy kiss. The missile toad later became an ornament for your Christmas tree.

Aether: 

You and Aether had been together for a couple months, your relationship still relatively new. Throughout the entire time you've been dating Aether's always been pretty shy about PDA. When you got caught under the mistletoe with him as you walked the halls of the Abbey he became incredibly flustered. "Aether, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to." You reassure him, his cheeks burning.

"It's not that I don't want to kiss you baby, it's just… are you sure it's okay for us to kiss in front of all of these people?" He asks you nervously. You take his hand in yours.

"I'm incredibly proud to say you're my boyfriend Aeth. I'm glad all these people will see us together, that way they'll know you're all mine." You nudge him playfully, the two of you sharing a smile.

"I guess one little kiss couldn't hurt." He holds you tightly by your waist, lips joining yours for a short, sweet kiss.

Swiss: 

If there was one thing Swiss loves this time of year, it was mistletoe. He almost always had a sprig of the plant somewhere on his person. He'd walk you back to your dorm, having you flustered and giggling the entire way. "It was really nice getting to see you today." He'd grin widely at you, bending at the waist to be eye level with you.

"Careful, you'll have me thinking you have a crush on me or something." You wink at him, a teasing grin playing at your lips.

"Maybe I do have a crush on you or something." He shoots back the same smirk. Retrieving the mistletoe from his back pocket and holding it between your faces. "Wow, would you look at that mistletoe, how did that get there?" He says in a monotone voice. 'Would it be okay if I kissed you?" You nod with a giggle, the two of you slowly leaning in closer to each other. Swiss' lips ghosted over yours, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. After a few mind numbing seconds of him being just out of reach he finally deepened the kiss, gently cupping your face with one of his hands. The two of you separated with a breathless fit of giggles, both of you blushing messes. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Rain: 

Getting caught under the mistletoe with Rain would be an absolute accident. This accident however just happened to coincide with the fact that you had a huge crush on Rain and he had an even bigger crush on you. Neither of you were aware of the other's feelings. But both of you had been dying to know what it would feel like to kiss each other. "Oh, hey, would you look at that?" Rain would clear his throat awkwardly, running the back of his neck.

"Do you want to, um…" you trail off, not brave enough to outright ask him. Rain takes a deep breath, one arm finding its way around your waist as the other slides into your hair. He crushes his lips against yours, causing you to stumble back slightly but he had a firm hold on you. You melted into him, arms sliding up his torso to wrap around his neck. 

"That was nice." He mumbles after your kiss broke. Your face was on fire, so was his from the looks of it. "Would you… would you want to go on a date with me sometime?" He asks, finding a sudden boost of confidence. You nod, smile growing on your face.

Mountain:

Your nose was cold as you wandered the garden, side by side with Mountain. You were in the midst of getting the garden set up for the Abbey's annual Yule market. "He said there was a display of kissing balls that needs to be put up."

"Kissing balls?" Mountain questions, the term obviously foreign to him.

"They're balls of mistletoe, two people are supposed to kiss when they are underneath one together." He lets out a solitary hum as the two of you continued on. It didn't take either of you long to find the display that needed to be set up. Mountain helped you hang all the kissing balls once you got to the upper rung of the rack. As you handed him the final one he looked between you and the plant. He places one finger under your chin, tilting your eyes up to meet his. He held the kissing ball in between the two of you, a smile growing on your lips. Your first kiss with Mountain was sweet and gentle, a nice contrast to his huling appearance. "You know, if you wanted to kiss me you could've just asked."

[ittybittyhogan]

George Weasley Imagine

Pairing: George Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 545

Description: I can't come up with a good description for this, it's just fluff

This is a slightly edited version of a George Weasley story by I Dream in Color, so if you like this story you should go check out their blog.

Since the day they had met, George and [Y/N] knew that they were going to be stuck within each other’s lives for a long time–what they hadn’t estimated was that they’d be living under the same roof, in the same room, with matching rings, and a vow. Funny how fate worked, wasn’t it?

But they weren’t complaining–in fact, they were far from it. They were doves in love, always joined at the hip and making one another smile. Their days were always filled with happiness and surprises, giggles and grins, especially when it came to the topic of their unborn child.

“[Y/N], you should really take it easy,” George raised a concerned eyebrow at the rounded woman behind the cash register, “You don’t need to overwork yourself before the baby arrives.”

“So you want me to take more breaks?” the woman questioned, smiling.

George snorted. “Well, you are supposed to be on maternity leave… why do I have to order you to take breaks anyway?”

“Because I’m an amazing, hard-working woman and you love me,” [Y/N] chuckled, sitting back behind the counter and resting her chin on her smooth palms. George rolled his eyes as he maneuvered his way to a tall shelf, scanning it scrupulously.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he called over his shoulder, “Would you bring me the box of Skiving Snackboxes?”

Stretching and reclining even more into her chair, [Y/N] replied nonchalantly, “Sorry, darling, but I’m on my break.” She winked slyly at him as he rolled his eyes at her once more.

“Oh, how could I forget?” George grunted, making his way around the counter to where both [Y/N] and the boxed merchandise were. As though asking for forgiveness, [Y/N] stopped him with a sweet kiss to the nose, smiling pleasantly. Unable to resist her, George couldn’t help but beam back, enveloping her within a loose embrace.

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

His question made her giggle suddenly, pulling away just a tad to gaze at him fully. “Oh no–is the confident George Weasley doubting himself?” she gasped mockingly, eyes gleaming teasingly as George shook his head, amused. “If anything, I should be the one whose worry levels are higher than yours–I’ve heard so many horror stories about giving birth! One from Mrs. Godfrey that always comes in, Hermione, my mother–oh, and don’t even get me started on your mum!” [Y/N] finished with a laugh.

“My mum?” George raised an eyebrow, scoffing in disbelief.

“Yes! All of them concerning you–how she knew the instant you came out that you were going to be a troublemaker–”

George groaned in exasperation. “Really? Mum told you scary stories about childbirth? Meaning me? Unbelievable.”

“She still loves you though,” [Y/N] offered good-naturedly.

“Ah, yes, how could she not?”

[Y/N] stuck out her tongue. He stuck his out in return. They both laughed for a moment until George slid his hand to rest onto the center of her inflating stomach. “Just always know that I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers softly.

“And I with you, my dear,” his beautiful wife whispered in response before he placed a tender kiss of pure adoration onto her lips.

[redbleedingrose]

Always - Part 6

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI, 18+), angst, straight up angst, cursing, first time writing Word count ~ 4.8k. Masterlist  Part 7

A/N: Hello my lovely readers!!! Thank you so much for your patience and everlasting support. The end is fucking near!!!!! I think part 7 may be your last part followed with an epilogue. I really struggled to write the smut in this chapter, and its kinda shocking considering the amount of smut I read lmfao. But, we got through it. Step 1 studying is keeping me busy, so please send some positive vibes. I love your comments, reblogs, likes, and asks, so please please please keep them coming. I am in constant need of validation as a writer; any interaction means so much to me. I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did, and as always (no pun intended), I hope it does the other parts justice. 

Azriel shushes you, kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “I will Y/N,” he whispers into his kisses. His scarred hands traveled up your waist from where he was straddling you, up to your hands that lay beside your head, fisting the silk sheets beneath. His fingers gently pull your grasp open before intertwining your hands together, his half-lidded gaze meets yours as he peers into your soul. The only sounds filling your bedroom are the sounds of your breath mixing with his. The only light in the room is coming from the fire cracking in the hearth, darkness swarms the room as his shadows cocoon you both into the bed. Impatience was growing steadily within you, you arched your back, bucking your hips against his, “Az- please,” but he only pressed further into you, stopping any movement. But you felt it, his hard length catching right where you needed him, his membranous wings flared out covering the entire bed. A whimper escaped you as your eyes fluttered shut, remembering the drunk conversations with Morr and Feyre about the correlation of wing span and a not so inconspicuous part of Illyrian males. “Patience dove, We have all the time in the world. You’re mine.” 

You wanted to snark back at him. But you couldn't, not when the smell of his arousal overwhelmed every one of your senses. Gods, you wanted him desperate for you. You wanted him to be frenzied for you. 

Finally, after what felt like centuries trapped beneath him in waiting, Azriel squeezed your hands thrice, “Open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” You forced your eyes open as he dropped his head into your neck, pressing rough kisses into your skin as his fingers moved to play with the waistband of your pants. He kept moving up and down, kissing and licking every inch of your skin, trying to find your most sensitive part that would cause you to shatter beneath him. Breathless. You were fucking breathless. You couldn’t breathe. Every part of you was consumed by him. And he was only fucking kissing your neck. But you never wanted him to stop. You wanted him to kiss you forever. You wanted him to love on you forever. He shuddered against you when he lapped at your skin, allowing himself to savor your taste. Your moan fused with your gasp right when he bit into that juncture between your neck and collarbone, arching your back, trying to egg him on. He shifted swiftly, focusing his efforts onto suckling at the tender spot, soothing it in apology as your skin darkened.

He slowly pulled away, like he was struggling to do so, like he wanted to continue devouring your neck, and turned his half lidded gaze to you, tugging at your pants, silently asking for permission. Puffs of breath between you intermingled as you leaned your head back into the soft pillow behind you, closing your eyes once again as you nodded lightly, the excitement, the anticipation of it all, overwhelming you. That's how it was with Az, overwhelming. Even when you were just friends, every part of him was all consuming. You could never get enough. Azriel, ever the inquisitive one, received your signal almost immediately, tugging your pants off in a smooth motion. 

His breath caught, head falling into your shoulder as he caught sight of your throbbing sex. Every drop of pleasure drips down to your thighs and onto the bed. You shivered when he bit into your shoulder this time, hard, teeth leaving indents into the smooth skin. “Mother above,” he rasped out, “No panties sweetheart?” He let out a shaky breath, the scent of his arousal became much more potent in your bedroom, and he gripped your chin, pulling you forward, “Eyes open, Y/N.” An order from the spymaster that had your eyes shooting open. The tone in his voice to anyone else would have had them trembling at their knees, begging for mercy, but here, with you, that tone. That voice. It told you everything. It told you that he was losing control, quickly, and that he was desperately trying to get a handle on it. 

You smirked up at him, finally having the upper hand. You didn’t need to respond, you had him just where you wanted him, just where you needed him. Every second that passed between you felt more urgent then the next. And he was going to give in. Give in to you.This patient act of the spymaster was just that, an act. Gods, it was practically his job to be patient, but you knew. You were seconds from pushing him over the edge, and you knew that when he would fall over, only carnal desire would be left in him. You hiked your legs onto his hip, giving him full view and access to your cunt. He sucked in a sharp breath as his digits dipped into your folds, stroking up to your clit, circling once, tightly, before pulling away, enjoying himself as he watched you respond to his touch. Gods, you could scream. Rumor has it Az was the darkest and the most relentless in his bedroom activities compared to his brothers. Cauldron boil you, his endless teasing was only proof. And you wanted it to stop. But you also wanted him to keep going, to see how far he could push you into depravity, as shameless as it sounded. 

His grip on your chin turned your gaze away from him and towards his glistening fingers that he had lifted into view, soaked with your arousal as he brought them up to his lips, sucking off the juices as he whined out at your taste. “This all for me, Dove?” 

He sounded… Gods, he sounded intoxicated. Intoxicated off you. You whimpered in response, nodding eagerly, trying to get him to touch you, to fuck you, anything as all the blood rushed down to where you ached. You flung your arms away from their resting place beside you, and reached down to tear his shirt off, desperate for more. Desperate for more contact. Desperate for more skin. Desperate for him. The spymaster’s teasing left you insatiable, you couldn't get enough, you could never get enough. Before you could lift his shirt up past his waist, his shadows gripped onto your wrists, pulling them away and locking them up above your head. Restraining you from another further movement. 

The shadowsinger’s chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, as he tried to collect himself from your admission, his restraint completely lost. He tapped at your thighs, and unlatched your legs from his waist silently, fingers moving to grip your thighs as he lowered himself to face your sex, like he needed some kind of support to keep him from collapsing. He breathed in once, twice, hazel eyes rolling back at your scent, before blowing his exhale onto the sensitive skin causing you to writhe, “Az, please.” You didn’t know how much more waiting you could handle. You felt like you were going to explode. His eyes locked onto yours, the sudden voice knocking him out of his stupor. His swollen lips lifted into a smirk at you, “So needy for me, dove,” before he latched onto your core and moaned into you. 

You jerked against his lips, panting out his name, trying to squeeze your legs shut at the sudden electrifying sensation. You almost fell apart right then and there, you whimpered at him, “Fuck baby.” His fingers clenched at your thighs, his grip tight enough to leave light bruising for you to deal with in the morning, and his shadows wrapped around your ankles, pulling you apart to hold you open for him to feast upon. He gave you a long broad stroke through your folds before he swirled his tongue around your clit, over and over and over and over again. He pulled back for just a second to blow a whisper of air on it, the cool air caused your entire body to shudder, before going back in to lick, suck, kiss at the flesh. His scarred digits brushed against your opening, circling it a couple of times as his tongue flicked his name onto your mound before pushing in. 

Your jaw dropped, as he stroked one finger, and then two, and then three, into your silky inner walls. Pounding his fingers in and out, in and out, with no mercy. His fingers curved and hit the spongy part of your inner wall spontaneously, a strangled noise left you as he adjusted his focus onto rubbing right there. He huskily purred into you, “taste so good f’me sweetheart.” Your cunt clamped down at his words, trying to keep him inside, begging him to keep going, begging him to never stop.

Your heart was racing out of your chest, every part of you was burning from the heat, as you felt your core tighten. The coiling tension in your abdomen was building at a steady pace. You were trembling, nerves on fire, his name coming out in gasps. Only his name and nothing else, nothing could come to mind. “Cum for me, dove.” His command was so strong. So powerful. “Cum for me,” he groaned again. Your eyes squeezed shut, and a golden thread snapped into place, as the tension in you broke, choked sobs leaving your lips, waves of pleasure racked your entire shaking body, as your walls began to spasm and contract around his fingers. 

Pleasure. Jaw dropping pleasure. Mind-empty pleasure. Tears slipping down your cheeks pleasure. Colors bursting around you pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure. Coursing through you. Coursing through that thread, down to the other end. Sinking to your pores. Slipping into the very cells that make you up. You couldn’t think. Nothing had settled in. Only Az. Everything that ever was, everything that is, everything that ever will be is him. Is the spymaster. Is the shadowsinger. Is Azriel. 

The aftershock rocked your body as you slumped over, trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours, Azriel’s whispers came to the forefront of your mind, “So good for me, sweetheart,” dulling out any attention to the recent thread that had appeared within you. He continued as he pulled his fingers out of you tenderly, “You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” He slowly kneaded at your thighs, kissing gently into the taut skin trying to get you to relax. His shadows release you from where you were held, as you continue to pant from the aftermath. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to focus on the sound of your voice when it hit you. 

The thread. The fucking thread. You tried to stay calm, not wanting to give anything away to Azriel. You gave a slow tug at the thread, expecting for nothing to come back, but to confirm that it was there. That you were not imagining it. Because if you were imagining it… well you don’t think you could handle that. What you weren’t expecting was the yank back, the pleasure and happiness and worry streaming down back at you. What you weren't expecting was the silent words that Azriel mouthed into your skin, “I love you mate.” 

You barely heard it, locked into focus on the bond that had appeared at your climax. He mouthed it into your skin so quietly, you literally almost entirely missed it in the haze of it all. But words like that, they weren’t ones to be missed. They weren’t ones to be ignored. No. Those words were more. They were more than that. They- They rung. They rung in your head. They rung loud as your body froze. Ice water poured over you, as if a bucket of it had been flung onto you by Azriel himself. And suddenly, your breathlessness wasn’t from pleasure anymore, but from confusion. Any remaining bits of pleasure in your body were flung out by the words, replaced by the strain of trying to comprehend. Trying to comprehend the words he had just uttered. Trying to comprehend that your mating bond had snapped. Trying to comprehend that Azriel had felt it and tugged back. Azriel had tensed with you at the realization of what he had just admitted. Words that he probably never meant to slip out. His shadows suddenly flung around, the cool darkness of them covered him up as if he was trying to hide himself from you. 

It felt as though you had been stung by him. You shoved him off of you, your eyes darting back and forth between his pleading ones, as you scrambled to pull the comforter that had been shoved aside by your earlier activities to cover yourself. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to say. After all this time, the words that you had craved for, the words that you had prayed for day in and day out, left you feeling stung. “What the fuck did you just say?” you blurted out. You couldn’t understand. You didn’t understand. You wanted to make sure you heard correctly, even though you were one hundred and ten percent sure of the words he had just uttered into your thigh. 

“Y/N,” Azriel's voice croaked as he murmured out your name, he reached out to touch you? Hold you? But your body jerked back. You didn’t want him to hold you. Not until he explained himself. Not until he told you what was going on. Not until he… well… you didn’t even know. The thought of him holding you right now made your skin itch, only seconds ago your body was shattered beneath him in pleasure, and now? Now, you couldn’t even think of that. Now, all the pain from this past week and month was coursing through you, through your bond, straight into him. His face fell at the sensation, and he dropped his arm back to his side, clenching his fists as he did so, staring at them with disgust. You repeated yourself again, voice louder, almost hysterical this time. 

His eyes shut tightly, and he took a couple of breaths before he throatily replied, “I love you Y/N. And I am your mate. And you are mine.” The last bit was so quiet, it muddled with the crackling of the embers and wood in the fireplace. You were completely and utterly stunned. This was not how you expected for your night to go. This was not how you expected for all this to go down. In fact, you had almost thought to yourself a couple of different times that any feelings you had towards Az, were unrequited. Especially when Elain had come into the picture. The thought of Elain brought on a whole shitload of questions to your attention.

Exhaustion threatened you, it made you want to collapse and tell Azriel to leave. Your heart had fallen deep in your chest, the knot in your throat paralyzed you. But you knew, gods you knew, the only way you and Az were going to get through this, was to talk it out right now. Selfishly, you didn’t want to. You wanted to go back and rewind time to a couple minutes ago and live in it forever, and forget that this had ever happened. You wanted to stop this moment from continuing because you were scared, and you were angry.  The flames of anger towards Azriel shot out, dread filled you because now everything that had happened these past few months was made worse. 

The thought of not knowing why Azriel pushed you away had become a thousand times heavier in your chest, he had known you were mates. He had known you were mates, and yet he still pushed you away. You hissed out, trying to maintain your composure, trying to not let him see how much this was effecting you, trying to build distance between you and on top of that a wall to separate you two, “How fucking long have you known?” Any intimacy that you had held for him during this night, was lost into the darkness of his shadows. You silently hoped that the bond had just snapped for him as well, but his reactions to your anger and sadness were only pointing you in the other direction.  His wings tucked tightly into his back, he almost cowered at your tone and hesitated, “I’ve known since-,” you interrupted him, throwing any mental shields up, trying to block him out from the bond, and already impatient with his slowed response time, “Since when Spymaster?” He flinched at the name as though he hated hearing you call him that, a pained whimper left his lips at you distancing yourself from him, “A little before under the mountain.” 

Hell had fucking frozen over. You laughed breathlessly in shock, it wasn’t funny. No, this was the most confused you had ever been. Since before Amarantha’s reign? That had been more than half a century ago. A mix of emotions were flooding through you, as you tried to process what Azriel was saying. A mix of happiness because mother above, how you were in love with Azriel words could not describe, but also pain because of the loss of time you could’ve shared together, pain because of his recent acts of pushing you away, pain because he had hid this from you, confusion as to why he hid this from you. 

Why hadn’t he said anything? In all your years of knowing him, Azriel was the kind of male who obsessed after mating bonds. He had told you himself, many different times: whenever he was drunk, whenever he was sober, whenever he was jealous of his brother's bonds, how he wished and prayed for a mate. How he wished and prayed for his equal. How he would adore her and love her. “Even if she’s a fucking worm, Y/N,” he would reply, grinning at your ridiculous questions. Was he upset or disappointed by our match? Was he going to reject you for Elain? Was he ashamed? The ugly doubts all reared its head at you. All of your doubts. All the devastating emotions you had felt in the past couple of months, slammed back into you. 

You couldn’t think straight, all these thoughts and doubts were overwhelming with the pain. And you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t deal with it any longer. It was stifling. “Were you even going to tell me before you slept with me?” The question was spit out, the knot in your throat was nearly choking you. You didn’t let him respond, “Please get out of my home Azriel.” You were the kind of person who said things they didn’t mean out of anger. And you were sure that if he stayed in your presence any longer, those words would come tumbling out. And there would be no way to fix the already existing damage. The damage that he had fucking done on what was supposed to be a beautiful and sacred bond. 

His gaze snapped to yours, tears were streaming down his cheeks as his face twisted in agony. You needed to come to terms with everything. Come to terms with the fact that he hid this bond, what was supposed to be a beautiful and happy thing, from you. Come to terms with the fact that he had pushed you away for months, knowing that you had been bonded with him. Come to terms that he might want to reject this bond, this beautiful, wonderful bond that you had prayed for. The thought made you shudder, heart dropping even further than it already had, but you had to come to grips with reality. Why else would he push you away? Why else would he focus so much of his time and attention on Elain, rather than focus on you and building your bond? None of it made sense. 

Azriel jostled, pulling you away from your thoughts, as though he could hear them and was hurting at them, he leaned towards you and grabbed onto your hands tightly, squeezing thrice.“No, no, no. Please Y/N. I am not letting you do this again. I am not letting you shove me out-” 

“You pushed me away Azriel,” you screamed with only venom in your voice, hysteria seeding through every part of you as you mentally placed bricks between you and him, blocking him off from reaching you through the bond. You didn’t know if you wanted him to remove his hands and never let him close again, or if you wanted him to hold on and let his warmth seep into your freezing flesh. You continued, “Even now, even after everything, you still don’t see where you went wrong, Az.” Panic oozed from him, draining the scent of arousal from your room, the bitter scent of his fear surrounding you. His eyes tried frantically to meet yours, begging you to look at him, begging you to see him. But you had seen him. For several months. As he ignored you. As he let you believe your friendship meant nothing to him. As he let you believe that you were being replaced. 

Even when Azriel was obsessed with Morr, he never let you doubt your place in his life. He was always there with you. He was always so reassuring of your presence, always so wanting of you. Anytime you were busy with patients, he would wait, hours upon hours, for the chance to speak with you. Anytime you were busy with paperwork, he would rush to help you so he could get even the slightest bit of your attention. And you could handle that. Because you loved him, and even though he longed after another, a small part of you knew that he loved you. Even if his love was platonic, it was enough. But with Elain, Gods you didn’t want to go through this again. You didn’t want to think about it again, you had been mulling over it for the past week, for the past couple of months, and you were sick of it. 

His mouth dropped open before snapping shut, several times, trying to let the words spill out, but all of them seemed to be stuck on the tip of his tongue. You had never seen Azriel so speechless, so stressed. Every part of him, the tight wings, his straightened back, his scarred hands gripping tightly onto yours, his shadows darting around the room screeching at him to say something, anything to rectify the situation pointed towards his distress. Part of you felt sorry for him, but you couldn’t let your love for him, your devotion to him, stop you from knowing the truth. The truth about why he had hidden this from you and had acted the way he had. Even if Azriel was your mate, you knew that it is important that you didn’t let him treat you this way, didn’t let him get away with what he had been doing. Because best friends don’t do that to each other. Mates don't do that to each other. 

You rambled out your sorrow, filling the silence between you, “Azriel, I can’t. I can’t do this if you don’t see what you did to me. You hurt me, to the point where I couldn’t breathe for a week. To the point where I couldn’t get myself out of bed for a week. I deserve better than that. And…  and I think you know that. And to now hear that you knew? You have known all this time, that we were mates, that you could feel my pain and had known about it. So I guess… I guess I don’t understand what it is that you were trying to do. I-... I don’t understand. I don’t understand you, Az.” You feel broken. You didn't want to admit it, but even if Az gave you an amazing apology or explanation for the way he had acted, you weren’t sure it would be enough… enough for you to move on from this. You didn’t know how you were going to come back from this. How you both were going to come back from this. “All I know for certain Az, is that I would’ve never done this to you. Never.” Your voice broke as you leaned back to stare at him, listening to what he has to say, giving him the chance to speak. 

He brought his hands to yank at his hair, his eyes were squeezed shut as tears slid down his cheeks, uncontrollable sobs escaping him, racking his chest. Ebbs of his regret reached you through the bond despite the mental block you had set up, which only meant the force of his regret was all consuming to him. His shadows swarmed you, trying to pull you in closer to their master, their cool touch leaving goosebumps on your naked skin. He took deep breaths as he tried to block out the ache in his chest, to concentrate on finding the right words to tell you everything that he had been thinking this past week, these past months, this half century he had lived in silence. 

At this point, you desperately wanted him to defend himself, you wanted him to explain, you wanted him to take the pain away, you wanted him to show he adores and loves you, prove he wants you. Because you were scared he didn’t. His earlier confession meant nothing in the face of your new reality you were coming to grips with. 

You had left the ball in his court. And you both knew that. You both also knew that this was the moment, the defining moment which would decide whether or not you would even allow the chance for Azriel to make up for his mistakes. He knew that this would be the moment you would decide if your relationship would move forward, or if you were going to let him go. And cauldron boil him alive for all he cares, he never wants you to let him go. He would rather burn alive a hundred times, heal over and over, just to be burnt alive again, knowing the pain already, his scarred hands bearing the evidence, rather than you letting him go, rather than you moving on however undeserving he is to have you, rather than you rejecting the bond. 

The tears continued to streak down his face, he gasped out in between his sobs, “Please Y/N. I am begging you, if you want I'll get on my knees. I promise you one hundred percent honesty, no lies, no deception, only the truth. Just… just don’t let this be the way we end tonight. Please. Please.” He reached his hand out again, hoping, praying on all the gods in the stars, on the mother above, on the cauldron, on whatever existed out there he didn’t know of, that you would hold onto it, that you would give him some semblance of reassurance that you would listen he knew he didn't deserve. 

And your traitorous hands reach out on their own volition to latch on, squeezing tight, trying to calm him, trying to reassure him, your love for him going beyond any description. “Okay,” you whispered out knowing he would hear you over his sobs. You weren’t sure that his explanation would be enough. But you wanted to know. You wanted to hear what he had to say. A big part of you that you buried deep within you wanted to forgive him. The feeling of hope snaked through you, as you prepared to listen to him. This time, without any interruption, without any judgment.  

He shuddered in a heavy breath, silencing his sobs. He had one chance to make this right, and he knew his fate was resting on his shoulders. “I want to start off by saying, I am sorry Y/N. I am so unbelievable and unimaginably sorry. I cannot express enough how sorry I am, but if you give me the chance, I will show you, every day, for the rest of our lives how sorry I am. I mean… I-,” he paused, and you squeezed his hand again, urging him to continue, “I want you to know that you have a choice here. You have a choice to accept the bond or reject the bond.” He shuddered as he whispered it out into existence, “I promise I won’t get in the way of whatever decision you want to make, and I promise to accept it, no matter the outcome. I… I don’t know where to begin.” His hazel eyes lifted to yours, pleading, he was floundering in fear. Tears brimmed at your eyes, you squeezed his hand once more, “Start at the beginning Az.”

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[brighteyedbushybrowed]

hello! How are you doing? I was wondering if you could do the papas and an angel reader? I feel like it could be super cute

I am slamming my bank card on the table. I freaking love the contrast of an angel with the Papas. The aesthetic of an angel walking the halls of the abbey? I'm here for it every day of the week. I've toyed a bit with angels and my own headcanons for angels in the Ghost universe so they may not be angels in the Christian sense, hope that's okay!

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

You are the most precious thing in the world to Primo (not including his brothers of course)

He first met you while he was praying to Satan in the prayer garden section of his gardens

He saw you first in your true form and he was awestruck by you, stunned by your raw beauty

And seeing you in the human form you take on so as not to frighten mortals just sealed the deal really

Dedicates a bed of flowers to you as a symbol of his devotion, though Satan is still his focus

Has spent countless hours admiring your wings and helping to maintain their feathers

Will delicately weave flowers and plants between your wing feathers for special occasions and events at the abbey

He calls you "mie piume" - my feather

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

If you hadn't appeared to Secondo in your true form, he probably wouldn't believe that you're an angel

He's not instantaneously awestruck like Primo

In fact, he's more intrigued and wants to study you at first

A lot of the time getting to know you is mostly him asking you questions about angels. You'll have to be stern and let him know that you're a person and not just a creature to be investigated and poked and prodded

Once you get closer, he's incredibly protective of you

Especially around the more feral ghouls that reside in the underground ghoul dens of the abbey

He has a little shoe box that he keeps somewhere safe containing feathers you've shed. He finds them to be too precious to let go

He calls you "mie dolce uccelline canare" - my sweet songbird

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

He's so fascinated by you

You know how adoring and completely and utterly in love Gomez is with Morticia Addams? That's Terzo with you

He's all delicate fingers and tender kisses along the span of your wings and where they join with your back

Takes the greatest care with you and will read up on wing maintenance

Terzo is admittedly a little intimidated by your true form, but he loves that part of you just as much as your human form

He draws and paints pictures of your true form a lot. You inspire him greatly and he wants to capture the beauty of a form that most are terrified of

Also protective over you, but knows that you're powerful enough to be able to defend and protect yourself. It's one of the things he admires the most about you

Calls you "mie colombe" - my dove

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

Oh lord he is SMITTEN

Copia gives no shits that you're an angel that's appeared before him in a Satanic abbey at the altar of the chapel

He would do anything for you. He vows himself to you, so long as he can continue his Papa duties and his devotion to the dark lord

Finds himself daydreaming about you often. Sometimes your human form, sometimes your true angel form. He is infatuated with both

You'll probably need to remind him that just because you're an angel doesn't mean you're a divine figure to be worshipped

He admires your wings and loves it when you cuddle at night and drape them over him like a protective blanket

You know that meme where it's like "I'd kill for you. Please ask me to kill for you" "No, Homie"? That's Copia with you

He calls you "mie amore preziose" - my precious love

[kolyasupremanxy]

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢

•𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, romance

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐀/𝐧: This was supposed to be "Mornings with Nikolai " but i decided to change it to "A day with Nikolai "

As you lie there, basking in the warmth of Nikolai's embrace, you feel a sudden tickle on your nose. You wrinkle it, trying to get rid of the sensation, but it only intensifies.

You open your eyes to find Nikolai holding a feather in front of your face, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Kolya, what are you doing?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Tickling my Dove," he replies, grinning widely. "Do you like it?"

You can't help but giggle as he trails the feather over your cheek and down your neck, tickling you mercilessly. You try to swat it away, but he's too quick for you, darting out of reach every time.

Finally, he tosses the feather aside and pulls you in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours. "You're so cute when you laugh," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You feel your face grow warm at the compliment, and you snuggle closer to him, content to just be with him. It's moments like these that make you forget all the dangers and difficulties of being with someone like him, and just appreciate the simple pleasures of life.

As much as you want to stay in bed with him all day, you know you have to get up eventually. You reluctantly pull away from Nikolai.

"We should get up," you say, looking at him. "We can't stay in bed all day, tempting as it may be."

Nikolai pouts, but nods in agreement. "Fine. But I'm going to hold you to that promise of spending time with me later."

Nikolai sits up, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "But before that, I have a surprise for you!"

You sit up too, curious. "What is it?"

He grins at you. "I'm going to teach you how to braid my hair!"

You can't help but laugh at the unexpected request. "Really?"

"Of course!" he replies, bouncing up to his feet. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

And so he leads you over to the mirror, where he sits down in front of you and hands you a brush. "First, we have to brush it out," he explains, handing you the brush.

You take it, feeling a little nervous. You've never braided anyone's hair before, let alone someone as important to you as Nikolai.

But he's so patient and encouraging, guiding your hands as you brush out his long white hair and begin to separate it into sections. His touch is gentle and tender, and you feel a sense of intimacy growing between you as you work together.

And when you finally finish, and he looks at his reflection in the mirror, his smile is wide and bright. "Dove, you're a natural!" he exclaims, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You pulled away, you head to the kitchen to make breakfast, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment. With Nikolai by your side, everything feels right in the world. You can't imagine your life without him, and you never want to.

Nikolai joins you in the kitchen, He wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"What are we having for breakfast, Dove?" he asks, his voice husky.

You turn around in his arms, smiling up at him. "Pancakes sound good to you?"

Nikolai's face lights up. "Pancakes? Oh, yes please! You make the best pancakes, my Dove."

You chuckle, feeling his enthusiasm rubbing off on you. "I'll get started on them then. Why don't you make the coffee?"

Nikolai nods, letting you go and heading over to the coffee machine. You watch him as he moves, taking in the way he looks in his loose pajamas, his hair falling over his forehead. You can't help but feel a sense of tenderness towards him.

As you mix the batter for the pancakes, Nikolai starts humming a tune to himself. You recognize it as one of the songs he likes to listen to, a Ukrainian folk song. You smile to yourself, knowing that Nikolai is in a good mood.

"You know what we should do today, my Dove?" Nikolai says suddenly, grinning at you.

"What?" you ask, curious.

"We should go out and do something fun!" he declares, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Like what?" you ask, smiling at his excitement.

"I don't know, we'll figure it out!" he says, pulling you up with him. "Come on, let's get dressed and go explore the city!"

You laugh as Nikolai starts to dance around the room, pulling out clothes from his closet and tossing them haphazardly on the bed. He's so silly and carefree, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy when you're around him.

As you get dressed and ready for the day, Nikolai starts to hum a tune, bouncing on the balls of his feet. You can't help but smile at his infectious energy, and you feel your own excitement growing as you anticipate the adventures to come.

Finally, the two of you are ready, and you step out into the bustling streets of Yokohama. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and everything feels so full of life and energy. Nikolai takes your hand and leads you through the crowds, pointing out interesting sights and making silly jokes.

As you walk, you see Nikolai's eyes light up at the sight of a street performer, juggling balls and balancing on a unicycle. Before you know it, Nikolai has pulled you over to watch, and he's laughing and clapping along with the crowd.

"Come on, Dove, let's try it!" he says suddenly, grinning at you.

"Try what?" you ask, confused.

"Juggling! It looks so easy, I'm sure we could do it," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You shake your head, knowing that you're not very coordinated, but Nikolai just laughs and pulls you over to the performer. Before you know it, he's convinced the performer to let the two of you try juggling, and you find yourself holding three brightly colored balls in your hands.

You can't help but laugh as Nikolai starts to teach you how to juggle, his silly antics and terrible jokes making you smile despite yourself. You fumble and drop the balls several times, but Nikolai is patient and encouraging, and before long you start to get the hang of it.

At first, it's a disaster. The balls keep falling to the ground, and you can't seem to get the hang of it. But Nikolai just laughs and keeps encouraging you, his own attempts just as clumsy as yours. The two of you end up falling over in a fit of giggles, and the performer just shakes his head in amusement.

"Okay, okay, maybe juggling isn't our thing," Nikolai says finally, brushing off his pants and taking your hand again.

You walk for a while longer, exploring the city and enjoying the sights and sounds around you. Nikolai points out interesting buildings and statues, and he tells you silly stories about his time in the organization Decay of Angels, how he disturbs Fyodor and he how he traumatized Sigma.

As the day wears on, you start to feel tired, and you're ready to head back home. Nikolai, however, seems just as energetic as ever, bouncing along next to you and making silly faces.

"You know what we should do, Dove? Let's have a dance party!" he says suddenly, grinning at you.

"A dance party?" you repeat, surprised.

"Yes, come on, it'll be so much fun!" he says, taking your hand and pulling you into a nearby park.

Before you know it, the two of you are dancing in the middle of the park, laughing and twirling around in each other's arms. Nikolai's silly energy is infectious, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting all your worries and just enjoying the simple pleasure of being alive.

As the sun starts to set and the sky turns pink and orange.

Nikolai pulls you close, his arms around your waist.

"You know, Dove, I don't think I've ever had this much fun with anyone else," he says softly, his eyes warm as he gazes into yours.

You feel a sudden rush of emotion, your heart pounding in your chest. The way Nikolai looks at you, with such genuine affection and adoration, makes you feel like you're the most important person in the world.

"Me neither, Kolya," you whisper, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss is soft and sweet, a gentle exploration of each other's lips. Nikolai's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body.

As you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes.

"I love you, Nikolai," you say, the words tumbling out before you even realize what you're saying.

Nikolai's eyes widen in surprise, but then a wide grin spreads across his face.

"I love you too, Dove. I never thought I'd find someone as amazing as you, but here you are," he says, his voice full of wonder.

You feel your heart swelling with joy, and you can't help but smile back at him.

The two of you stand there for a few moments, just holding each other and basking in the warmth of the moment.

The rest of the day is a blur of adventure and laughter, as Nikolai takes you on a whirlwind tour of the city, showing you all his favorite places and making you laugh with his silly antics. You dance in the park, fly kites by the river, and even try your hand at rock climbing, all the while feeling more and more connected to Nikolai.

As the sun starts to set, you find yourselves on a quiet rooftop, watching the colors of the sky shift and change. Nikolai pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight.

"I hope you had fun today, my Dove," he says, his voice soft."I did," you say, smiling up at him. "Thank you for taking me on such an adventure."

"Of course," he says, kissing you gently on the lips.

As the sun finally dips below the horizon, you know that this is a memory that you'll cherish forever. The silly, sweet, unexpected day with Nikolai, and the surprising confession of your love for each other.

You can't wait to see what other surprises the future holds for the two of you.

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Fics. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds Chapter 5: Anything Goes! - Part 1

(Prologue, ...)

Hello guys! :3

This part of the chapter I had the most fun with! Its just... well let's just say chaos... XD

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @katblu42 @mariashades @room-on-broom @yarol2075 @river-sam2 @llamawrites @etrnlvoid @cosmic-orchaid

-0-0-0-

“Why does food in America has to be so bloody expensive?” Koji huffed in annoyance.

“Is there a place where you can find food for cheap?” asked Recko, looking semi-curious.

“Mate, we wasted less money on it elsewhere before we came here!” his friend pointed out, his British accent grew sharper at his growing irritation.

Yuuki and Taira giggled their friend before turning back to their cooking.

“Yā~, I can’t wait for Sakiko-chan to join us this afternoon!” Taira grinned excitingly as he was preparing a big chicken.

Yuuki nodded as he cut holes into the fat of the pork steaks, then beating with the back of the knife to tender them.

“I think she promised us she’ll bring the Beaver Tails?” he gave a bashful smile.

“I hope she will!” the optimist nodded, giving the chicken a little smack of pride.

As if expecting it, Taira looked over his shoulder to smile at his friends in the living room.

Recko was grimacing in disgust, “Ew… Why are you eating this?”

“Uuh, isn’t it illegal to bring meat across the borders?” asked a rather perplexed Koji.

“It’s the Canadian sweets, we were talking about! And no, we don’t want to bring anything deadly across the boarders!” the optimist grinned, prompting a fit of laughter in the room.

Taira let the chicken roast in the oven, and Yuuki deep fried the pork pieces after covering them with batter and breadcrumbs.

The smell flowed across the apartment, entering the nostrils of the poor Raider, who was laying down on the bed with begging eyes, even whimpering of pity.

Noticing, Recko went to his canine companion to reassure him that he’ll get a nice and delicious meal soon.

Suddenly, a growling noise echoed the apartment, taking everyone’s attention to Koji, who was carrying the rest of groceries to the kitchen.

“Oh dear! Hunger struck me,” he held his gut with a modest look.

“You should eat something. Some snack?” Taira suggested as he took the groceries.

“Oh! I know!” Koji smiled as he dove his hand into bag. He then pulled out a well sealed metal can. “Ah, my favorite! Canned beef steaks!”

“Not surprised…” Recko smirked in amusement, becoming aware of Raider wagging his tail at the sight of the can.

“I used to eat this Shiitake a lot, man!” his friend grinned, “This stuff is one of the things that are tasty, growing up in England.”

“I thought they were… Meh…” Yuuki raised his hand and lightly shook it side to side.

Koji chuckled as he clasps his hands and rubbed them eagerly in preparation.

“Ah, say what you will about canned beef steaks; a man’s disgusts are another man’s delicacy!” the ex-cop licked his lips.

He began searching for something to open it.

He found a can opener, a small kitchen knife and a fork. But for the last five minutes, and to his horror, he finds that the can opener was broken, the small kitchen knife snapped in two, and the fork bended!

“Let me open it,” Recko volunteered as he took the can from Koji, who ran off to the other room to grab one of his useful tools.

After trying his best to tear the lid open with his bare fingers, the biker kid stared at it with a cold stare.

“Who the heck makes it like this?” Recko uttered in a cold tone.

“H’Oh, for Kouta’s sake, man! Let’s h’open h’already!” outraged Koji with his sharpest Cockney accent as he came back, grabbing the can and attempted it to open the stubborn lid with his battle knife.

Suddenly, the tin container violently slipped out of his hands, ricochet a wall before it hit on the shoulder of a semi-suspecting Yuuki.

Horrified, Koji immediately ran up to his poor downed friend, “Ah! Gomenasai*!”

“Daijobou~…*” croaked Yuuki, rubbing the blossoming bruise where he got hit.

Taira picked up the offending can and chuckled, “Looks like we got a stubborn one!”

“Any ideas left?” Koji asked with a desperate expression.

“I have a plan! Maybe… I could use my powers to open it?” Yuuki lifted a finger like he just had a lightbulb lit up in his head.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, buddy,” Taira pulled face of uncertainty.

“It is not,” deadpanned Recko.

“We have to at least try!” the young cook replied, taking the offending item from his friend and placed it on the tiled floor.

With a deep breath, Yuuki’s eyes glowed bright golden as he stared directly at the lonesome can of beef steaks. His hair rose and waved in the air, as if gravity gradually lost its effect as the universe around him ceased to exist momentarily.

At first, the tin container slightly shook, growing more violently. Then, it bulged and twisted at the sheer force of his power, seemingly ready to be torn apart.

Realizing what was about to happen, Taira suddenly yelled, “Abunai*!”

An explosion rumbled in the kitchen, followed by a ringing silence.

“Was that your plan – lick it off the walls?” Recko deadpanned, wiping the pieces of meat off his face. He then looked down at his dog, who was licking the food off the floor happily.

“Oh…” Koji whimpered as he looked around the room, seemingly about to cry.

He thoughtfully took a piece of meat of Taira’s surprised face and put it into his mouth. He swallowed it and let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Uuuhh… I have cabbage cake if you want,” Yuuki grinned sheepishly.

The ex-cop turned and smiled faintly.

“Thanks, I don’t feel hungry anymore… And we should probably clean up before Sakiko comes in.” He added, following the sight of a poker-faced Recko, who was looking with grim silence at the ceiling.

-0-0-0-

*Japanese translation:

Gomenasai = I'm so sorry

Daijobou = Its okay

Abunai! = Look out!

[googleitlol]

HOO boy, this is a fun one. This part of the journey is one I've had knocking around my head since the beginning, mostly cuz I came up with it the same time I created Dove's backstory!

Dove Masterlist:

Monkshood

Laughter masks the crackling of the campfire you circle with your friends, the look of confused horror on Tripitaka’s face sending his disciples into three cackling messes, even you can’t help but chuckle at his expression. After hiking through the wilderness all day, your friends had set up in a moderately open space in the wooded terrain you’ve been travelling through.

This will be the last night you have to camp before arriving in the next major occupied space. Another kingdom awaits your group, but first you settle for the night in the seclusion of trees to rest. Cooking the rice a family had given you from a few days ago over the fire, and after some foraging, you all had taken seats around the fire to eat and talk.

Tripitaka sits against Ao Lie, who lies just behind him. “We have been on the road together for so long, and only now am I learning that all of my disciples have eaten human flesh?!”

“Many demons eat people, I find it more rare to meet one who doesn’t.” You shrug from your spot by the fire across from the monk. It does not surprise you as much to learn this, especially since the only vegetarian demons you know of are all in your company at the moment.

Pigsy lets out a sigh. “We are all strictly vegetarian now, even if I do miss the tender flavour of meat every now and again.” He looks into the fire, his eyes almost yearning until you whack his arm. “Hey!”

You offer an unapologetic smirk to the pig demon next to you, Wukong snickers on your left. “Maybe you shouldn’t work yourself up thinking about it, Pigsy.”

“But it’s difficult!” He complains, the look on his face wistful. “I can still remember the taste. I’ve only been a buddhist monk for a few years now, I’m not like you. How many years has it been since you have tasted meat?”

The question gives you a moment of pause. How long has it been now? “I honestly can’t remember if I’ve ever had it. I would have had to have been a child, then.”

A thought crosses your mind, and you can’t help but giggle. “I do remember a very close friend of mine, a boy named Da Jie. I had never met anyone who was so obsessed with food. He honestly could have eaten more than you, Bajie.” You shake your head, it isn’t often you think about those days.

“I highly doubt that.” Bajie snorts, crossing his arms with a prideful grin.

Sandy shoots you with an inquiring look. “Did this boy live in that village you mentioned by Potalaka Mountain?”

You freeze for a second, caught off guard by the question. “No, I knew Jie before I was a disciple of Guan Yin.”

“Before?” Wukong leans over, an inquisitive expression overtaking his features.

The campfire really is warm, isn’t it? You feel yourself sitting a bit straighter before answering. “…Yes, before. I had a life before I joined my master in her home.”

“I had just assumed you lived in that village by Guan Yin’s Mountain before joining her.” Wujing hums to himself a bit. “Where were you from before?”

The heat of the fire is certainly doing its job. “It, uh, it was a small village, not near any commonly-travelled roads. I don’t remember much, but there was a pond Da Jie and I would play by. On the way there he would chat my ear off, prattling about all the different plants we passed on the way and when we got there.” You smile as you recall those nights, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “His father studied herbs for medicinal purposes, and Jie always had to repeat everything he learned. Sometimes if he found a flower he liked, he would ask his father what it was so he could tell me about its properties.”

“Flowers?” Pigsy grins, nudging you with his arm. “Sounds like more than just a friend.” He laughs, and Wukong reaches over you to swat him away.

He gives his brother a look laced with annoyance. “Stop that, they were only children children at the time–”

“I mean…” You trail off, glancing up at your friend to see his eyes practically bulging out of his head. All of them, in fact, shared the same look of disbelief. Even Ao Lie, who has been quietly picking at the grass beneath him, was almost staring into your soul.

All you can offer them is a shy smile. “You are right, Wukong, we were just kids…” The corner of your lips twitch, and you clear your throat. “…he may have liked me, and maybe I liked him, too. But it isn’t as though it matters anymore, they were just childish feelings. Even if he was still here, I am a buddhist monk, like the rest of you.”

“If it weren’t for you lot chastising me for it, I would have returned to my wife a long time ago.” Pigsy lets out a bark of laughter. “Wouldn’t you, as well?”

You take a moment before saying anything, playfully rolling your eyes and standing up. “I am going to find some more firewood, excuse me.”

Not waiting for a response, you turn to the woods to start gathering more wood. You aren’t entirely sure you will need more kindle for your flame, but it was getting much too hot in that seat. Any excuse for a walk in the cool night air is a welcome one.

Each of you have told numerous stories about each of your respective homes, you all enjoyed hearing about your friend’s life before meeting one another. Though, you guess all you’ve ever told them about was your life on Potalaka Mountain, so it makes sense they all seemed to be surprised you had another home. Still, you rarely ever think about back then, there isn’t much purpose in thinking about it.

Before you get too far, you hear the tang monk calling your name. Confused, you turn back to see Tripitaka hurriedly following after you. “Tripitaka?”

You pause long enough for the monk to catch up, the man glancing about at the shadows of the night. “It really is dark, I almost thought I wouldn’t catch up to you.” He laughs nervously, watching for movement from the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, and he turns back to face you.

“I thought I could help you.” He smiles, and you mirror the expression, albeit with a hint of confusion.

You turn to continue walking, the monk following behind. “Shouldn’t you have sent one of your disciples?”

“Perhaps, but I wanted to do it.” He responds. “Besides, I thought we could talk, too.”

“It sounds like you ‘thought’ of a lot of things.” You chuckle over his repeated use of the word.

The man shares your exhales quietly. “Yes, well I do tend to think a lot.” You glance back at him with a smile as he continues. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, slowing your pace when you find wood for the fire.

Tripitaka crouches down with you to start collecting the materials. “I may not be the most… perceptive of our friends,” you look back at him with a sarcastic smile. At least he can be self aware, “but you appear to be tense.”

You frown at his words, surprised. Are you tense? You do feel somewhat taut, but that might just be because he brought it up. “I think that was the first time you’ve ever mentioned your old home.” You stand as he continues. “I hope none of my disciples were prying too much.”

“It’s alright.” You smile, your voice light as you continue your walk. “It’s all in the past now.” Looking back, you see your friend following closely behind you.

His brows furrow while he readjusts his hold on his firewood. “If that is true, may I ask what happened?”

You stop, eyes focused on the forest before you. “What do you mean?”

You hear him let out an awkward laugh. “I know I complain about the troubles we face out on the road, and even though this pilgrimage is the most difficult thing I have ever done, I also dealt with my own grievances back home. It feels as though, maybe, you understand that feeling as well.”

It takes you a moment to respond, your gaze trailing to the forest floor as you take a long breath. “Perhaps, but I have dealt with it, so there is no need to worry. It–” Your eyes shut tight as you feel your voice almost crack, and you shake your head. “It was all a many years ago, hundreds really. Before you were even born.” You look back to offer him a smile, but the expression is not returned.

“But it wasn’t hundreds of years for you.” His words make you freeze, but you quickly shake it off. Even if he is right, it’s been well over a decade. You hardly even remember it. “I understand that you prefer to avoid these more sensitive topics, but if you ever feel like it would help to share, I am here. I’ve often found that when you ignore the past, it can still find ways to haunt you.”

“I am not haunted by my past.” You turn back to face the monk, surprising him slightly with your tone. Hearing the harshness in your voice, you quickly step back to take a breath. “I don’t think about that time too often, there’s no point in letting myself get caught up in feelings over something that was so long ago.”

He frowns, the look he gives you worried. “That does not sound like ‘dealing’ with it.”

“Well, it is.” You strain your smile a bit before turning. “The past is in the past, Tripitaka. Now, why don’t we collect some more firewood? Come on, there’s more over there.” Without giving him the chance to argue, you walk ahead to continue with your harvest, the monk eventually following to do the same.

A silence stretches over the two of you while you gather more fuel for the fire, and you find yourself glancing over to your friend every now and then. You appreciate his concern, it really is touching to know how much he cares. But you feel it isn’t needed. If anything, hearing the man voice his concerns only served to cause more stress.

Sure, there may be moments where you feel some grief. The nightmares still prod at your mind some nights, but the same would happen to anyone if they were in your position.

The less you dwell on it, the better. After all, it’s like you said. The past is in the past.

~~~~

The sun rises early the next morning, the summer heat quickly warming the surrounding land as you continue your journey. By midday, you and your friends arrive in the next kingdom on your route to the Buddha’s monastery.

It takes some time to navigate the roads within the walls of the kingdom before arriving in the palace. Before passing the gates of the palace, you perch on Tripitaka’s shoulder in your avian form. At this point, it’s become second nature to you whenever you enter a kingdom.

The process of recertifying Tripitaka’s travel documents tends to be easier when people believe there is only one human in his group of demonic disciples. It also doesn’t help that you do not possess any papers of your own, so putting on the guise of a dove was a much simpler solution.

After requesting an audience, Tripitaka is led into the palace walls with the rest of your friends. Your group is led through the halls of the finely decorated home of the king, and you find yourself watching servants and officials pass you from your position on the monk’s shoulder.

Pigsy huffs as they walk down a corridor. “Does anyone else smell that potent odour?” He asks, scrunching his face with a grimace. “It’s disgusting.”

Monkey scoffs at the question. “And here I thought that repulsive odour was coming from you.”

“Hey!” The younger brother whines, which only makes the simian snicker.

Despite their complaining, the smell doesn't bother you– likely due to their senses being so much more heightened as demons. Even without their level of smell, though, you catch sight of what may be the source.

The potential answer comes in the form of a man hurriedly walking past, cradling a bundle of purple flowers in a cloth. Their petals are lobed, almost hooded in shape. You almost want to frown, recognising the plant. Is that… monkshood?

What a bizarre flower to be carrying, and without any gloves? Sure, he has a cloth, but still. He seems to be in a rush… where might he be delivering those flowers?

Maybe it’s simple curiosity that pokes at you, but nonetheless you feel the need to satisfy your question. Taking off from Tripitaka’s shoulder, you follow the man with the flowers in hand. You make sure to stay close to the ceiling, hiding up high as you shadow the man.

He rushes through the halls, stopping only for a moment to hum to himself, then take another turn into a new corridor. You follow until he leads you to an open space within the palace, a fragrant aroma overtaking the scent of the monkshood he carries. Several species of flora greet you as the man walks down a stone path leading further into what appears to be a garden.

It is quite a large space, housing some plants you recognise along with some foreign ones you do not. They all share vibrant colours, some soaking in the warmth of the sun while others rest in the shade of tall trees. On the far side of the garden, a small pond is accompanied by a crimson-painted wooden bridge connecting the stone path from one end of the water to the other.

A man stands alone on the bridge, watching over the water. His robes are a deep blue, embroidered in white intricate patterns. His hair falls down his back, save for what is held in place by what looks to be a crown with a pin. Once the man with the flowers sees him, he rushes to meet him on the bridge.

“Ah, I thought you might be here.” The man bows in greeting while you perch on a tree just behind the pond, hidden within the leaves and branches. “For you, my Prince.” Prince, huh?

You see the royal look down at the flowers, his silence not offering much of a response. With the two men’s backs facing you, it’s difficult to gather much of a reaction until he speaks. “…Is this meant to be a joke?”

The deliverer sounds startled. “I am sorry?”

“Whose idea was this?” The prince throws the flowers to the ground, his voice low.

The man steps back at the gesture, holding his hands up in defence when the prince stands over him. “I-I am not sure, I was not given a name.”

The Prince lets out an angered huff, turning back to face the water. “…You may leave, get out of my sight.” You blink, a little put off by his dismissal of the one you followed here. The man seems more-so relieved at the words, quickly scurrying away once given permission.

What a rude way to react to flowers, even something like monkshood. It is strange, though, who would gift such a plant to a prince?

“What are we watching?” You jump at the voice next to you, letting out a squeak before looking up to find a familiar monkey demon watching the prince.

Calming your racing heart, you return to your human form to give the simian an annoyed look. “Wukong, what are you doing here?”

“I noticed you fly off and got curious.” He shrugs, his voice hushed as he glances back at you with a grin. He's clearly amused by your reaction. “Why are you following some flowers?”

You reply with a whisper, turning your attention back to the man on the bridge. “It’s monkshood. The entire plant is toxic, even touching it with your bare hands is enough to absorb the poisons through the skin.” You frown as you explain as the man leans against the railing of the bridge. What is he doing, sulking?

Why, it can’t be over the flowers, could it? He looked the same before the man upset him with the gift. “Sounds to me like a threat.” Wukong hums, and you feel your frown deepen.

There’s something else about him, but you aren’t sure what it is. This off feeling, one you can’t place. Something you can see, but just can’t reach.

You look back to respond to Wukong before something catches your eye. Farther back, past your tree, you notice movement in the shrubbery of the garden. A crouching figure hidden in the garden looks out over a tall bush of flowers, their eyes trained on the man on the bridge.

The bow in their hands makes your eyes widen, an arrow already notched on the string. You turn back to look at the prince, the man none the wiser to his stalker. The figure takes aim.

You immediately leap into action, turning back to your dove form for a split second to reach the prince before turning back. “Get down!” You tackle the man to the ground, shielding him with your body just as the arrow flies past. 

Taking your own bow, you nock an arrow and jump to shoot where you last saw the assailant. Another arrow flies by, and you duck down just as it lodges into the railing behind you. They’re covered too well, you can’t take proper aim before they’re able to shoot. You frown for a moment in thought before realising what to do.

Taking dove form, you fly into the air. You soar over the top of the tree you hid in before. The stalker looks out in confusion, seeming to have lost sight of you. You turn back with bow in hand, shooting at the attacker before they can tuck back into their place of hiding. Your arrow catches a pinch of their clothing, making them fall back as the arrow pins them by their shoulder to the ground.

Working swiftly, you jump from the tree and run to the attacker with another arrow already notched in your bow. However, when you get to their place of hiding, all that is left behind is their ripped clothing that’s still pinned down by your arrow. You scan the grounds, but whoever had been here, they are nowhere to be found now.

“Guards!” The prince calls from the bridge, and you rush to check on the man. Whether he was hurt or not, he must be shaken.

You run back to the bridge as the prince stands up, using the railing to support himself.  He turns to face you as you approach. “Are you alright, sir? Here, let me soothe your–” Before you can finish, your words get caught in your throat.

The prince looks back at you with wide eyes, eyes you could never forget. Your chest tightens, a strange constriction twisting at your heart. The features of his face, though older, are nearly unmistakable. You take a step back, convinced this is some trick of the mind. It can’t be, it’s impossible. The last time you saw those eyes…

“You there!” You both turn to the voice of a guard, several behind him approaching quickly. “Step away from the prince!”

Shoot. The guards run to you, but before they can do anything, you take to your avian form and fly off. What was that? How– that prince, he looked just… just like Da Jie. Maybe you are only seeing things, making connections where there are none.

 This is not what was supposed to happen. You didn’t want to get involved in anything, you were only curious! If the others hear you were chased away by palace guards, you will never hear the end of it from Sun Wukong–

Wait, where did Sun Wukong go?! He was in the tree with you, wasn’t he? He didn’t even help! What, did you imagine that, too?! 

Nothing is making sense right now. You just need to find the others and get away from here, maybe then you will be able to clear your head. You never should have separated from them in the first place.

It takes some time to reunite with your friends. Navigating the palace from the outside after following the man from inside proves to be a bit of a challenge, but in time you find them at the palace gates. Tripitaka is pacing by Ao Lie while Sandy stands between Pigsy and Wukong.

The Monkey King rolls his eyes at his brother, seemingly in the midst of an argument. “Just keep your mouth shut tomorrow, pig.”

“There she is.” Sandy points up in your direction as you fly down. You turn back as you land, and Tripitaka is the first to approach you.

He takes hold of your shoulders. “Where have you been? We have to find a place to stay for the night.”

Stay? You look back at your friends in confusion. “What, why?”

“Bajie offended the king.” Wukong leans over Tripitaka’s shoulder, much to Pigsy’s irritation.

“He offended me first!” The pig demon argues, gesturing back towards the palace. “He called me ugly.”

“He said he’d never seen a face like yours before.” Sandy reminds him, stepping forward.

Pigsy snorts in annoyance at his younger brother. “That’s another way of calling me ugly, it was all in his tone!”

Tripitaka looks back at his disciples with a sigh before turning back to you. “In all honesty, this king seems to be more, uh… sensitive. I was in the middle of apologising on behalf of Bajie when someone came into the room saying there was something urgent that had to be brought to his attention. They had us leave and said to come back tomorrow.” Oh.

Oh…

Wukong narrows his eyes at you as your face shifts, the circumstances brought to the king clear to you. The monkey demon hums aloud. “You would not happen to know something about this urgent matter, hmm, Dove?”

“…Um…” You glance at the ground, then back to your friends. Tripitaka is slack-jawed, Wujing’s eyes have never been so open in shock. An ever-growing grin stretches across Wukong’s face while Pigsy lets out a bellowing laugh.

“And here I thought Brother Sun and I were the only troublemakers.” He cackles, and you feel your face grow warm at the notion.

Your hands rest at your hips. “I did not cause any trouble! I just… I was curious and– ugh!” Your head droops down, everything is just happening too fast. “I need a second to unravel my thoughts. Can I explain after we’ve found a place to sleep for the night?”

Tripitaka frowns, taking a second of silence before nodding. “Very well, we should go.” At his word, your group leaves the palace grounds in search of a place to stay the night.

While looking, you opt to stay in avian form. It is likely better not to be seen in public while staying here now. You can’t be sure that the prince understood you were there to help, it isn’t as though you stuck around to explain yourself. Running off was probably even more incriminating in those guards' eyes.

You eventually find a post house to stay the night in. Once inside, your friends find the hall your rooms are in and you resume your human form. Wukong is grinning as you turn to face your friends. “I thought you were just following some pretty flowers, how did you manage to cause such a ruckus?”

“I did no such thing.” You send him an icy glare before backtracking. “I mean, I did do something, but I was not the cause!” The Monkey King crosses his arms in amusement, the others sharing a confused look.

With a sigh, you start over. “I was in the palace gardens when I saw someone was in danger. I saved the man being attacked, but his assailant got away.”

Sandy hums at your story. “So, you thwarted an assault?”

“I think so?” Your brows furrow as you replay the encounter with the attacker in your head. “The man called for the guards and I flew away once he was safe with them. I only hope they didn’t assume I was running because I was guilty.”

“If that man you saved knew you were there to help, then he likely would have told them.” Tripitaka does his best to soothe your concerns, and you do your best to believe him.

“Yes… still, it might be better if I stay here when you go back tomorrow. To avoid any more confusion.” You smile sheepishly, embarrassed over getting involved in this mess in the first place. At least you were able to save him, that man…

“You may be right.” The man smiles with a shake of his head. “We should get some rest. I will see you all in the morning.” 

With Tripitaka’s dismissal, everyone goes into their rooms. All except Monkey, who insists he needs no sleep. You enter your room, finding a bed against the wall and a closed window opposite of the door. Finally now with a moment to breathe, you lay back on your bed with a deep sigh.

The moment you close your eyes, you see his face. You must have just imagined it, how could he look so similar to Jie? No, it must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Wukong doesn’t seem to have known about your little detour, your head must be elsewhere today. It wasn’t him, how could it be?

Even so… you don’t want to go back. Staying back will be better. Tripitaka can have his papers sorted in the morning, and you can all be out of here before noon. This will all be nothing more than some bizarre daydream.

~~~~

Knock knock.

You turn when you hear a knock at your window, the morning light trickling in while in the midst of brushing your hair. “Monkey?”

“Ready for a rude awakening?” He cocks one brow up from his seat on your window sill, arms crossed and one leg crossed over the other.

The Great Sage always knows the best way to greet a person. “Good morning to you, too.” You offer a smirk as you finish with brushing your hair.

“Two palace officials came into the post house this morning.”

The brush drops from your hand, and before the demon can blink, you’re pulling him into your room by the lapels. “What?!”

Wukong is completely unbothered by your panic, laying limp in your arms with that same smirk. “I noticed them heading towards yours and Master’s room. If they haven’t come to you yet, they’re likely talking to him.”

Your head whips back to the door, and you drop your friend in your rush to get to it. He grunts when he hits the floor, but you pay him no mind. Opening the door as quietly as you can, you peek your head out to see Wukong was telling the truth.

Two men stand at Tripitaka’s door, the monk facing them with a nervous expression. “We were told that you entered this post house with a bird that turned into a woman. Would you be family?” One of them asks, your heart dropping to your stomach.

Tripitaka nods hesitantly. “We are travelling companions… may I ask what business you have with her?” He glances over to your door from the side of his eye, his brows shooting up once he sees you poking your head out.

The other official follows his line of sight, his eyes brightening once he catches sight of you. “Ah, you there.” You glare at the monk, who shoots back an apologetic look. “You must be the archer from the palace gardens yesterday, correct?”

Reluctantly, you step out into the hall as they approach, trying your best not to look nervous. “Uh, yes, I am.” There isn’t much point in running, it’s not as if these two would pose any problems for you if it came down to a fight. These two are innocents, though, and you don’t want to cause any more problems than you already have.

All you have to do is explain yourself. “I hope there was no confusion with what happened yesterday, I was only–”

“You saved our Prince Jian Yu from an assassination attempt.” The first official smiles, making you blink a bit in surprise. So they do know? That’s one good thing, at least.

Tripitaka looks between you and the two men in surprise. “That was the prince?!”

The second official turns back to face Tripitaka with enthusiasm. “Yes! The prince was quite stirred by her courage, nobody has seen him in such high spirits in a long while. We have come on his behalf to request the woman’s hand in marriage.”

The silence that follows his words fills the hall as you and Tripitaka share an expression of utter bafflement.

The monk trips over his words, suddenly forgetting how to speak. “I-I-I am sorry. D-Did I m-mishear you? Did y– Did you say m-marriage?”

“Yes.” The man smiles, too content to notice the horror that invites itself into your stomach, or your other companions exiting their rooms. “The king has already sent for a matchmaker, and would like for the woman to return so that she may be made presentable. After all the arrangements are made and the two are married, your papers will be recertified and you can be on your way with the rest of your journey.”

Tripitaka lets out a nervous chuckle as Monkey comes out of your room. “Ah… but, you see, she is actually meant to be on this journey with us.” He tries to explain, only for the two men to look back at each other with a frown.

“Surely you and your demon disciples will be alright on your own, no?” The first one reasons, gesturing to your friends who seem to be confused over what is being discussed. 

Other than Wukong, who you are sure has been eavesdropping through your door this whole time. “I am sure she will enjoy the comforts of the palace in comparison to braving the wilderness every night.” Can they stop talking as though you aren’t standing next to them?!

“She gladly accepts!” Everyone turns as Wukong gives them their answer, pushing you towards them as your jaw goes slack from shock.

Everyone looks to your simian friend, the demon grinning proudly at each bug-eyed face that stares back at him. Never have you ever sent such a sharp glare to a person in your life. “Wukong?”

The damage, however, is already done. “Excellent! If you would join us, miss, we will take you back to the palace with us. You will be shown where you will be staying for the time being once we arrive.” The first official practically radiates with joy, taking your one hand while his partner takes the other.

“Wait, hold on–”

“Prince Jian Yu will be thrilled to hear you have accepted.” The other official hums, seemingly ecstatic at your nonconsensual acceptance to the offer.

You look back at your friends as you're dragged away, Wukong snickering as though this were some amusing joke. You glare with a burning anger you have not felt in ages, the familiar fire of hating that stupid simian rising up through the depths of your soul.

Immortal or not, you will find a way to skin that monkey.

[flamingkorybante]

This Thursday, 6-9 PM eastern, is the second virtual Do’ikayt teach-in – I would love to see you there! Just RSVP to doikaytbaybee@proton.me This little soapstone dove belonged to my great-grandmother. When I would visit her little apartment in New Jersey as a very small child, I always loved to hold this dove. The weight of it in my hands now reminds me of being on the carpet in that apartment, hearing her stories, smelling her pastrami and rum. It lives on my ancestor altar now, bringing the spirit of Bubbe Muriel with it, even though I can barely remember her face. The talking circle portion of the teach-ins, when they’re in person, include a talking piece, some significant object that gets passed from hand to hand around the circle as each person speaks. At the last in-person session we did, instead of my usual piece of petrified wood, I brought this dove to be the talking piece. And what I didn’t anticipate about that choice is that my heart flew into my throat every time someone new touched it. Every new hand the dove entered, I had to keep myself from gasping, “please don’t drop it!” It felt so tender and frightening, to offer this precious memory to a room full of strangers and to trust them, with no reason to do so, to be gentle with it. I felt in my body the fragility of this little bird, how easily it could break from one careless gesture, one slip, from someone I didn’t know. How steady were their hands? How dry was their grip? How much would it matter to them if they dropped it and I was devastated? I had no information and had to try to learn it all over again as each subsequent member of the circle took my dove in their hands. As the circle ended and the dove returned to me unharmed, I realized that this is just what we’re doing in these teach-ins. We’re sitting in a room full of strangers and saying, over and over again, I don’t know you. I trust you. Here’s my heart, I hope you don’t drop it. I don’t know you. I love you. We’re making the irrational, outrageous, senseless choice of throwing our hearts wide open, trusting with no reason to trust that the people who have just shown up to become our comrades will meet us there, will be tender with us in return, will try not to drop our precious stone dove. And I really think that this kind of irrational, outrageous, senseless trust has to be the substance of our organizing, because I think it’s the substance of the world we want to bring into being. We’re building little pockets of it and then setting our shoulders to the edge of it and pushing it out and out and out into the world, until the pockets join up with each other and olam haba’a, the healed world, bursts into being. I hope you’ll come sit with us in circle on Thursday, or if not Thursday, I hope you’ll reach out to me and we’ll set up another one, or I’ll give you the resources you need to facilitate one yourself in your own community. I want you in this conversation because if we’re going to disentangle ourselves from our trained reliance on the state, we need to replace that with something, and what we have is each other. I don’t know you. I trust you. Here’s my heart, I hope you don’t drop it.