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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

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Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 3

If you gave him your heart, your soul, your body- what would he do to those things? Maybe it's time to see if he can handle your love for once, and not just the other way around.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, mild Angst, fluff, slow burn but we'regetting somewhere, they have mad chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), Outercourse (basically non-penetrative sex except with a dildo), toys, Cumplay, it's messy smh, hand kink? Increased authority from kook

Length: ~5k words

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡

A/N: you'll never be able to imagine how much I struggled reconnecting with this fic. This was torture. I hated this fic so much at some point. I'm not proud of this part but if I don't get this out I'll never be able to continue this series.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook has really nice hands.

Not just in a sensual or sexual sense, but in general. They're big but not intimidating, because the way he uses them is never in a mean or hurtful way. They're soft, and kind, and they also look very nice. Masculine, and strong, veins underneath the skin sometimes a bit more visible than other times, but they also hold a certain softness to them. His nails are well taken care of, only his thumb sometimes giving you a hint of a nervous habit.

They're uniquely Jungkook. Rough, but not to be feared. Gentle, but with the potential to lead. Capable. Handsome.

They're his main way of exploring your skin too- his fingers often used to make shivers run up your spine, palms warm as they feel every curve of you. He doesn't need to look at what he's doing ever it seems like, hands having minds of their own every time they touch you.

Like a separate entity almost, listening obediently to their master's command.

You slowly wake up from your nap, feeling actually refreshed, when Jungkook walks in from the door, giving you a hint to what must've woken you up. "Oh- You're up." He smiles, walking closer with a plastic bag, though his first mission is to press his hands into the softness of the couch before he kisses your cheek. "Here- let me show you something." He impishly chuckles, sitting down on his shins, before he opens the bag on the bed.

You're in a state of shock for a good moment, not even having noticed him move.

He's got the audacity to laugh over your shoulder, front pressed into your back, hands teasing your sides as they sneak up your loose shirt.

"Bought one that's about my size." He purrs sensually, almost like he's mocking you. But it's not malicious- playful, if anything, but not mean in any way. "So you can call it.. practice." He explains, while you stare at the nearly clear pink dildo that's staring at you, still packaged together with other things in the black plastic bag in your lap.

"Jungkook.. when did you even buy those things?" You wonder, feeling almost scared to touch any of the things inside.

"Earlier, when you were napping." He shrugs easily, hand reaching past your body to shamelessly dump the contents of the bag on the bed, bag flying somewhere on the floor. "Anything look like an absolute no-go to you?" He asks curiously, and you look without touching.

There's an egg-shaped item there you're not too sure of what it might be. The dildo explains itself, clearly- and the other massage wand is also pretty self-explanatory. There's two bottles of lube- one pink, the other blue. A.. plug, with a pretty pink gemstone on one end of it. Leather handcuffs, with soft looking fur on the inside. Overall, nothing immediately makes you uncomfortable.

You don't know what gives you the confidence for your next comment you blurt out though. "Don't you have any toys?" You ask him bluntly. "Like, for yourself? Or do you just.. use your partner's body for stuff?" You wonder, and he looks at you with a sharp gaze, a smirk growing on his lips.

"I wouldn't mind using your body, that's for sure." He flirts, leaning his head a bit to the side. "Why would I need toys if I've got you?" He fakes innocence as he asks that question without expecting any answer- And for a moment, you don't give one.

But something about his flirty comment bothers you.

Maybe because you hear someone else in your head again- all the men who've degraded you over the course of time. Your ex. Your friends. Your father. You hear them laugh yet again like you're pathetic and worth nothing.

"I don't want to be used." You deny with a flat tone, and it's clear from the slight change in his eyes that he's now on high alert at your every word spoken by mouth and body language, so he can figure out what happened to change your mood like that. "I don't just want to be.. a toy you get bored off and toss away at some point just to pick it back up once you're interested again." You say, drawing a clear line.

You're not sure how he might react to this. You didn't want to make a statement like that, but you can't mask the truth. You really are scared of getting hurt at the end of this- you don't want him to just play around and then let you go.

You don't want to go. You want to stay- You want him to want you to stay.

He says your name to gain your attention, voice low and steady, horribly gentle- and it makes your eyes sting as you realize that this is the first time a man has ever spoken in such a tone to you. He notices the way your eyes begin to gloss over- and it hurts him too, the fact that you're hurting.

"This isn't just something fun to me. I think I might not have made it clear." He says, staying away from you as to not invade your little bubble you're in, letting you have your safety. "I don't know what happened to you in the past to be so full of distrust towards anything good offered to you-" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "-but I promise you, this isn't just a game to me."

"Then what is this." You say quietly, scared. "I'm scared that we're not on the same page here and that we're walking down to entirely separate paths." You complain pitifully with your back hunched over and head hanging low.

"That's because we are." He chuckles softly. "I'm trying to hold your hand here so we don't lose each other- but you're not holding it." Jungkook offers.

"I don't understand-" you shake your head, when as you look up again, his face is right in front of yours, eyes looking at your lips.

"Then let me help you." He hums towards you, before his lips press onto yours. And your body freezes.

Because he's never kissed you like this before- tender, calm and without any lust in it whatsoever. In fact, your realize only now that you've never been kissed without any hidden intentions or something to gain in mind. This kiss is soft, it's no words needed, it's love confessed in physical form. You've never been kissed like this. Ever.

And even more so, you're pretty sure he hasn't actually kissed you at all either- not until now, at least.

And it's all so confusing now, because you want to trust him, you want to just lean into him and let him have his way with you- but the fear inside you is still there, clutching your limbs, leaving you with no way to move anywhere- neither away from him, nor closer. You're currently stuck in place, and it's only a matter of time until he grows tired of you and your constant push and pull behavior.

You're hurting him, you know this.

Especially because you're kissing him back, giving him hope for something you might not be able to give him. You're cruel, aren't you? And the worst is that he probably knows even that.

Because once you start to cry, once you sob and cling to him like a touch-starved pet, letting all of those pent up emotions out because who cares, he doesn't say anything, doesn't ask what's wrong. He just holds you, gives you that moment, keeps your pieces collected in his palms for you to put back together later with his help. And you're not sure how many times you can do this.

Or how long he's willing to participate in this.

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Since Jungkook didn't make a move the entire morning, you've been spending it entertaining yourself as to not get bored. Not in a sexual way-

but by simply trying to see how strong his patience is.

It's a new feeling you've developed after just two days of being with him- confidence, and trust in that he won't ever hurt you whatsoever. No consequences he could come up with would ever truly put you in harms way, you absolutely believe in that. But what's disappointing was how he didn't ever get past a clench of his jaw, or a tilt of his head. He'd just.. let you do whatever, and never do anything to somehow discipline you.

It made you wonder. Is he even such an intimidating 'Dom' at all, or did he just make that up?

However, after talking about it after lunch, he's finally opened up to you too- having told you that he's gonna trust you too, that he'll be more open with you and his own desires, while you'll have to be honest about when he's going too far or too fast. And you agree- you want him to trust you too, want him to relax more around you as well.

After all, he wants to get to know you too, right? Not just the other way around.

What you did not take into account though, is that now, your actions actually will have consequences- and he will indeed put you back into your place in one way or another. And even if in that very moment where you piss him off he isn't reacting- he will remember those actions to remind you of them, later, when you don't even expect it.

Just like now, as he's finished some calls he had to make, finally finding time again for you. "I'm sorry- I technically told the studio not to contact me on my break." He hums into your hair, as you sit with him on the small sofa in his office, having practically demanded his attention back on you the moment he'd put his phone down, and he'd been visibly amused by it. Unbeknownst to you, he's more than just excited- after all, it feels like your week is finally gaining traction, as you no longer step around in the dark trying to navigate around obstacles that aren't even there.

He's just been too scared to scare you. But by now, it's clear that you're not. And it makes him eager to explore now that he can actually see where he's going with you.

There's a hand under your shirt, cropped top and cotton shorts nothing more than decoration really, considering he's already seen you naked. It's nothing too sensual technically- but at this point, you feel like something might be wrong with you. Because even a simple touch like this makes you.. needy.

He reaches over to the side, plastic bag rustling- and now you're actually starting to get antsy. Because there's only one bag next to the couch- the one that's containing all the different items Jungkook had bought this morning as he'd told you. And that's exactly what he's grabbing for it seems like, as he moves his arms a little to take out one of the items you weren't too sure about- already unpacked for some reason, as he holds it out for your hand to take.

"What is that?" You ask, fingers running over the smooth, silicone surface, while he chuckles behind you, since you're still halfway laying against his chest.

"Something I always wanted to try." He simply jokes. "It's really fun, according to a friend of mine. I've never used it with anyone before, but I think you might like it.." He hums, taking the toy away from you again, before his free hand pats your thigh once. "..scoot to the side for me, yeah?" He asks, and you do so, sitting next to him now while watching how he finally reveals what this.. object might be used for.

He has to adjust the belts multiple times to fit around his thigh, plastic clipping into place, before his eyes find yours, lips turned into a suspicious smirk. "Alright.." He starts, leaning back against the couch, and it's obvious that he's now demanding respect and most of all, your obedience. He points at a spot in front of him, and without words, you know exactly what he wants you to do, his expression one of almost.. pride, as he watches you stand in front of him, instinctually knowing what to do.

"Undress." He simply says, a straightforward command that you follow easily, because shame is something that you refuse to let yourself feel. He's not one you need to be hesitant with- he's promised you his honesty, after all, and he's promised you that even if things get awkward, it'll never change his view on you.

And his view of you is one of love, that's very clear to see and feel.

So it's not weird to stand in front of him all bare, clothes on a small pile next to your feet now, as he smiles. "Come here." He urges with a softer voice, having clearly realized that you've accepted his invitation into a scene now- for the first time not having needed any cues. "Take a seat, princess." He almost teases, and you do so, sitting on the soft silicone toy hugging his thigh.

It's pastel colored, multiple hues swirling together into one another, creating wave like patterns. "There you go... So pretty." He chuckles, hands running over the length of your arms, causing goosebumps to erupt from the sensation of his warm palms. He's feeling your skin a lot more sensually now, clear intentions as he touches your hips and waist, thumbs almost massaging the skin of your lower stomach, moving from the inside towards your hipbones before repeating the action.

His hands are so close to where you'd love to have them, and yet, you try and be patient. Because if you're good, he'll reward you, right?

It doesn't take long for you to notice the way your arousal makes movement a lot easier- your core by now slipping around with every little jerk of your hips, making you anxious to move more. And finally, as his fingers grip your hips, he gets into a more comfortable position himself- the unoccupied leg casually stretched out, while his back rests against the sofa, giving him a good position to watch you. "Show me how those hips can move." He urges, and you instantly take that invitation, slowly moving to test the waters.

You don't care what you look like, or about the wet sounds coming from the toy between your legs- because the feeling is insane.

He clearly let's you enjoy yourself for now, giving you free reign to figure out yourself how you like it. Your hips are squirming from side to side, ridges and bumps of the toy an odd but definitely pleasant sensation as you roll your core over it, uncaring of your arousal already leaking onto his grey sweatpants.

And neither does he care.

Watching you chase your own pleasure on his leg is just such a treat to witness- especially when he holds onto you, before he lifts his foot, forcing you down onto the toy without any warning, earning a surprised whimper from between your lips as he lets you down- just to repeat the motion a couple of times, simply to entertain himself. You're just too cute, even while doing such a sinful act. And especially when you clearly reach your orgasm is when he truly can't help himself-

hands guiding your hips to keep moving despite your clear sensitivity, just to see you struggle a little, thighs trembling and hands gripping his arms.

He's letting you lean against him, hips occasionally moving just a little, clearly still needy to feel more- and he's actually quite surprised when your hand curiously runs over the inside of his thigh, hesitating just shy of his very obvious erection that's only somewhat contained in his underwear and sweats. "You can touch me, you know?" He chuckles, making you look up at him. "I'm all yours." He tells you, and it feels like he's offering more than just his body to you.

But you don't get to think for long, because he's already helping you lay down on your back on the leather couch, unclipping the toy from his leg before he looms over you, hand running through your legs. "You didn't think I've forgotten, right?" He chuckles darkly, while his hand explores your still clenching core.

"You don't think I'm just letting you act like a brat and not put you into your place?" He purrs, leaning back on his heels, before he takes out something from the bag, his phone as well from the table close by. You're pulling back your legs, unaware that you're still exposed to him, lower lips plump and red from the friction of the toy, skin glistening with your arousal.

It's playing right into his desires, seeing you so clueless about your own appeal.

You're watching him press a hidden button on the toy, the pink object buzzing to life once, red light blinking while he taps away on his phone. "Oh~" He hums, trying out somethin it seems like, as the toy buzzes in different patterns before it stills again. "Interesting.. That'll be fun in the future." He chuckles, before he leans over you, kissing you with playful intent.

You're not sure what he's up to when he pushes your legs back down to stretch out, running the smooth object between your legs to cover it in your slick. "You're always so worried you can't take it.." He teases, looking right at you before you notice him push the object inside-

the egg shaped vibrator slipping right in, almost suddenly, core taking it inside greedily- only the elongated part staying outside, something resting right on your clit. "Oh?" He jokes, brows raised. "Where'd it go?" He jokes, making you laugh now, entire nature of this whole scene awfully light in that moment, lifting your overall tenseness entirely at this point. And for a moment, all is fun and games-

until he leans back, sits down in the corner of the couch, finger on his phone suddenly doing something-

The toy inside you buzzing to live, and not on an easy setting, that's for sure. He's obviously amused by the way you squirm, hips jerking whenever you move in a way that forces the part resting against you to move. And he's having the time of his life, trying out different settings and rhythms while watching you suffer under his antics.

"You still need to learn." He chuckles, watching your legs jerk whenever the piece that's resting over your clit moves just slightly. "I don't have to touch you to gain my fill." He says, simply scanning your body with a warm, hooded gaze. "Hm? You've had such a smart mouth the entire day." He coos, almost feigning innocence as he looks at you racing towards your final high-

Generously turning down the intensity so that it's not that harsh.

You're slowly catching your breath, when his lips tilt upwards, and his finger taps around- buzzing intensifying again, catching you off guard, causing a yelp to escape you as your hips lift off the couch.

This is too much. Or not enough? You can't take this, there's something strange happening with your body as it moves without your permission, turning over into all fours, front laying down as your hands frantically touch the inside of your thighs.

And Jungkook relishes in the scene you present to him, because there's a reason your fingers hesitate to touch your core, and he knows it.

You can't take it out. Not physically- that you can, if you really wanted to- but mentally. You know he's put it there, and he's the one in control. This is your punishment, and in an odd moment of realization, you accept it, thighs trembling as your body reaches yet another, warmer orgasm that causes you to cry out, voice sounding foreign to your own ears as your hips jerk, your knees pressed into the leather below the only thing holding you upright-

Or maybe it's Jungkook, who's leaning over your back, arm keeping your front elevated as it rests against your collarbone.

When did he move?

When did he shed his top?

Your core feels empty, and your legs feel wet. Is ge not wearing pants anymore? You can feel something touch you, hot and heavy against your thigh, and it must be him.

You want him. Where'd that toy go that was inside you seconds ago?

You’re still breathing heavily, cheeks still wet from the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes. Your lashes are still coated in them, wet and heavy, when Jungkook kisses your neck from behind you, a reminder that he’s still there.

Just like he always promises. He never let’s you feel lonely.

“That's it.” He praises. “Hold onto me like that. I’ll keep your body safe while you let go.” He chuckles, and only now do you notice the iron grip you have on his forearm over your chest, nails digging into his skin. You feel a bit bad for it.

Though you just lessen your strength a bit, not letting go.

Suddenly, his other arm moves, grabs something out of sight, before he runs the object through your slick-coated cunt and thighs, covering it in your arousal before it prods at your still clenching hole.

“You think I won’t fit?” He purrs against your neck, and you swallow thickly, a strange cocktail or anticipation and worry mixing in your body. “You think I won’t claim this cunt as mine at the end of this week?” He asks again, and you can feel the wave if cool excitement wash over you- starting at your very neck, before it ends in the tips of your toes.

“I’ll teach your body to take me..” He almost chuckles, pushing the very tip of the clear pink toy inside, before he moves it back out- Pushing it in a little further each time. “I’ll make sure to get you all ready for me..” he hums sensually, by now having learned of your little kinks you have, as the hand from his arm still keeping your upper body pressed against his own finds one of your tits, groping the soft flesh before his thumb flicks the sensitive bud once to see you squirm.

“I won’t let you forget any of this.” He threatens almost, and you whine when you feel him push the toy even further now.

You feel so full. How much more is there to go?

“Jung-” you whine pitifully, eyes closed as your hips can’t stay still, all of it a stark difference to the fast paced, almost aggressive orgasm he’s given you just moments prior. “I cant-” you start, and he laughs.

“Oh you can.” He tells you, before he gives the toy another push. “And you will.” He purrs, and its then that you feel the base of the toy against your lower lips.

You swear you can feel it in your stomach- and for some odd reason, you like it.

"You're made for me." He chuckles, kisses at your neck and cheek before he bites, toy leaving your cunt with only the tip before he moves it back in, feeling of a Rollercoaster ride making your insides jump and eyes roll back. You can't think anymore, you can only feel- and right now, you feel just so used in the best kind of way.

Somehow, he makes your worst nightmares come true- but they're not nightmares anymore, just dreams, vibrant and pleasant. Exciting. New.

It could be so easy to replace the toy with himself right now- but he doesn't, because that's one of his own rules he will never break. Your trust in him is precious, it's a gift- and he won't tarnish that by simply being greedy for more than you want to offer.

"Jung.." you huff, swallowing down saliva before you can say anything at all. "Jungkook-.. please-" you beg, unsure how to phrase it.

"What is it?" He asks, moves to nuzzle your neck so softly- a stark contract to his constant push and pull with the clear pink dildo he's using to give you a taste of his own length one day doing the same. Filling you up. Probably even better? You can imagine him all warm and slicked up from your wetness, stretching you open and making you feel so full you can hardly breathe.

"More.. f- faster-" you request. "Please?" You add on, and he chuckles.

"See?" His breath fans over your neck. "You can be such a good girl." He teases, pressing the replica as deep as it can reach inside you, base pushing against your skin. "Where were your manners today?" He wonders. "Will I always have to ruin this cunt to remind you where your place is?" He asks, and you nod, shamelessly so.

"Yes!" You whimper, mind somewhere else by now entirely as you struggle to keep yourself still. "Yes- I.. I forget-" you huff out, and he laughs as he runs his lips over your shoulder, piercing a distinct contrast to his softer lips.

"Then let me remind you, darling." He hums against your jot and sweating skin. "You're mine, in this moment. And I decide what to do with you... or to you." He tells you, and you nod, legs quivering.

Only for him to move the toy back to have it slip out, hole gaping at him, closing around nothing. The sigh is everything he ever needed or wanted- cunt all red and flushed, lower lips swollen and glistening, and he has to imagine his own seed staining your skin, mixing with your own arousal staining the couch and your legs.

His cock twitches at the sight, a drop of precum escaping him without control.

But what he does have control over is the rest of himself, as he pushes the toy back inside, causing your toes to curl, especially once he moves it in a faster, steadier pace. It short-circuits your brain, everything around you smelling of sex as he uses the replica to give you a taste of what he could give you.

Your arousal foams up around the base of the pink silicone, creating a ring of white as you cream up from his pace.

The orgasm you reach from this is different, as if it happens somewhere else in your body- though his hand is quick to flick your sensitive pearl to send you off with a proper goodbye, soil leaving your body as you quiver and lose all control one last time, body giving out as he lets you lay down now, muscles twitching from the overuse.

And it only takes him one good pump on his own cock to make him spurt his release onto your back, where his lips kiss up your spine in his post-orgasmic fever.

He's drunk off of you. He's never even had full on sec with you yet- and he's already addicted.

You've got no idea what you're doing to him.

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In the bathtub, his hand is a lot softer as it runs over your body, cleaning you and nurturing this blossoming feeling you're growing for him.

You're both back from your respective highs, world slowly bleeding back into reality as you simply exist in the warm water for now. "Was that alright?" He asks you, and you nod.

"It was.. new." You say, voice echoing in the bathroom, together with the sound of water sloshing everytime he moves. "I didn't think I'd enjoy what you did- but I did."

"How so?" He wonders, wanting to know hour thoughts now that your brain is functional again. Feedback is important now more than ever after all- he has to still figure out how to navigate this new experience with you.

"I thought.. it would feel, you know, degrading." You explain. "To be used." You clarify, and he nods, carefully moving your hair to see the side of your face better. "But it didn't. It felt more.. as if I was.. of service? Is that the right word?" You wonder, and he chuckles.

"Its how I feel in my position as well, you know." He answers. "Knowing that what I offer gives you pleasure.. is enough for me." He shrugs, and you stretch your legs, cramps finally letting up. "You looked so pretty.." he teases, and you whine.

"I was crying like a baby!" You argue, turning around a bit-

Though you're caught off guard by the terribly soft look he offers you, hand reaching out to hold your cheek.

"Thats because you are my baby." He says-

Making you cry once more.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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unbearableblog · 9 months

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My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

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angellayercake · 6 days

Text

Banchetto: Formaggi e Frutta

Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW

AO3 | Insalata | Masterpost

Selecting the pairings for cheese can be deceptively complicated. Anyone can put some cheese on a tray and call it done but for it to be truly good some serious thought needs to be done. Texture, flavour, sweet vs savoury, creamy vs crunchy, all build up to a well rounded dish. The first bite of a juicy grape paired with tang of a strong cheddar, or the sweet bitterness of cranberry with the mellow creaminess of a brie. Every element has to work together to create a bigger experience. If you make these choices with care then you will have a show stopping course and all you had to do was some slicing.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

You had been lingering in his office. He was perched on the edge of his desk with his arms locked around you, preventing you from leaving and ending your time together for the day. The two of you had been in this position for at least half an hour, every time you tried to extricate yourself he would pull you in for one last kiss which became two, then three, then he would remember another important matter you just had to discuss right now. So far you had covered Cabaret the musical, why linen was the superior summer material, his favourite type of pen to do signings and the lies he used to tell people about ghoul mating habits. And now you were discussing your favourite cheeses.

‘I honestly have to say I don’t think I have tried a cheese I didn't like,’ you admit after listening to him explain why Italian cheeses were by far the best in the world. He wrinkles his nose at you, shaking his head in disgust. As inconsequential as these topics were, you enjoyed hearing his typically outlandish opinions and his passionate defence of them. You may have even been guilty of disagreeing with him deliberately from time to time just to enjoy his attempts to convince you of his point of view.

‘Even the stinky ones?’ He looks like even just thinking of them is a displeasure he can’t abide, the charmingly emphasised wrinkles above the bridge of his nose almost distracting you from his argument. ‘The French, thinking they can get away with crimes against dairy just because of a few good ones,’ he grumbles, pulling a laugh from you.

‘I think the English are guilty of that too, I am afraid,’ you remind him. ‘Have you ever tried Stinking Bishop?’

‘Ugh!! Never and I never will,’ he shakes his head again refusing to even entertain the thought. ‘But, cara mia, that is why everything Italian is far superior,’ he says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively and you suspect he isn’t just talking about cheese any more.

‘With what I have learned in the last few months I can’t say I disagree,’ you reply against his lips as he is already reeling you in for another kiss. You don’t let him distract you for too much longer though this time. ‘I don’t think you should judge a cheese until you try it with accompaniments though. The right flavours paired with the right cheese can make all the difference.’

‘I suppose there is some truth to what you say, mia cuocoina,’ he trails off for a moment looking like he is waging a battle internally before he takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Speaking of cheese, did you know there is a farmers market in town this weekend? I have heard they have very many types of cheese on sale there.’

‘I had heard, yes. It happens every month.’ You think back fondly to those trips out of the Abbey with Mona. ‘We used to take it in turns to go and pick up some obscure ingredients as a challenge for the others. I haven’t had a chance to go for a while.’

‘Would you like to go to this one? With me?’ His hesitancy makes your heart melt. How this man could ever think you wouldn’t want to go with him you have no idea? As if you don’t willingly spend almost every moment of your free time with him.

‘Are you asking me on a date, Terzo?’ You tease, hoping to ease his worry a little. The two of you may have done everything backwards but you can’t help the little thrill you get from the idea of him taking you on a proper date. He had been watching you nervously as he waited for your response but at your gentle teasing the corner of his lips pulled up in a smile even as a light blush crawled across his cheeks.

‘Si, I am,’ he says simply, lifting his head and looking you directly in the eyes, hypnotising you for a moment in his gaze.

‘I would love to go with you,’ you reply as soon as you snap out of it, not wanting to leave him hanging any longer. His wide smile always takes your breath away and you stand there for far too long, just grinning at each other before you realise you do really need to leave. You give him one last kiss before making your way back to your room, mind full of your upcoming date.

The morning arrives and you are up early having explained to Terzo that the earlier you get there the better. It would be less busy, you got the best pick of the produce and all the tasters won’t have sat out for so long. Taking your advice he had agreed to leave the Abbey around nine, and also on your advice you both were skipping breakfast, not wanting to fill yourselves up before you get there. But his morning coffee is non-negotiable…

After getting ready you let yourself into his rooms and start the coffee machine. You can hear him moving about already so you don’t worry about getting him up, but instead have time to fuss about… well, everything. You smooth your hands over your outfit as you wait letting your nerves get the better of you for a second. It’s not to say you didn’t usually make an effort with your appearance, you did, but your clothes and hair had to be practical when cooking even if just for him. This was the first time you had had the opportunity to dress up and for some reason it had your stomach in knots.

You wore your hair down today, letting the dark waves cascade down your back where they were usually secured in a bun and your make up was light as you had considered the time of day - just a subtle base and some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick to add a little emphasis to your features. The dress you picked was one you had never worn before. It was black, as was the majority of your wardrobe, but the light cotton fell softly over your figure, the hem ending at your mid-calf. It was buttoned up from your chest to your knees, giving a glimpse of leg and decolletage you hoped would capture his attention without flaunting too much. The puff sleeves and broderie anglaise finish the look and make it, in your opinion, the perfect dress for a date at the farmers market.

Just as you finish the coffee you hear him come to the door. You turn around a cup in each hand to catch him frozen in the doorway. With one hand he is clinging to the door frame and then other is laid dramatically over his heart. He is looking at you as if he has never seen you before. He looks incredible himself, his hair slicked back as you had not seen it for a long time and his face surprisingly clear of his paints, given you were leaving the Abbey. He is wearing an off-white revere collar shirt, habitually unbuttoned half way down his chest over tailored linen trousers in a soft dove grey with black woven loafers. He has a matching linen blazer over his arm, and he looks like he has just stepped out of the pages of a Milanese fashion magazine.

‘Good morning, Terzo,’ you greet as you go to hand him his coffee but he ignores it in favour of pulling you in for a kiss, letting go of the door frame and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and letting his hand glide down your body over the smooth fabric. You hum into his mouth enjoying his attentions but slightly worried about spilling coffee on you both as you hold them over his shoulders. ‘I could get used to this sort of greeting,’ you say when he lets you pull away, still seemingly at a loss for words.

‘Grazie,’ he whispers, finally taking his coffee and savouring the first sip before continuing, letting his eyes roam all over you. ‘You are, well… beautiful doesn’t even cover it, I think. Sei una visione di bellezza, come non ne ho mai viste.’ He does this every now and then, slipping into his native tongue when he can’t seem to find the words to express himself in English. You don’t understand what he is saying but the sentiment is clear, so you let the melodic words wash over you and let your smile widen in response.

‘You are looking very handsome today too.’ You cup his cheek with your now free hand and let him nuzzle into your palm. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’

‘Me too, cara mia.’ He places his hand over yours before taking it in his. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘I’ve got my coffee, I've got you, I don't think I need anything else. And if we leave now everyone will still be at breakfast so we shouldn’t be bothered.’ With a nod and a smile he leads you from the kitchen through his rooms and out to the corridor, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You realise then that this is probably going to be the first time he has left the Abbey since returning from the last tour and what a big step this must be for him, as well as the two of you. You walk through the corridors quickly, leaving a plausible distance between you in case you were seen by anyone but before you reach the main entrance he leads you down an old corridor that, as far as you knew, only led to an older unused wing of the Abbey.

‘Where are we going?’ You ask him as you follow him along the twists and turns of the dusty corridor but he just shushes you and continues as though he is looking for something. To your surprise he ignores the few doors you pass coming to a stop at an old painting covered in dust, which depicts what you can only assume is a life-sized satanic knight posing in his armour in the landscape of hell. Without any further explanation he feels around the edge of the frame until you hear a click and the painting swings forward revealing a secret set of stairs leading down to a door where you can see slivers of daylight seeping in where it has warped in its frame. Taking your hand he helps you down the steps before having to give the door a shove once, then twice before it opens and you find yourselves at the side of the main Abbey just outside the tall garden wall.

‘This is the way we used to go when we didn’t want anyone to see us leaving,’ he says, shooting you a mischievous grin. ‘When we were boys especially and the older sisters wouldn’t give us the time of day we would sneak into town…’ He trails off realising the story he was about to tell you and his expression turns a little sheepish. ‘Well, you know how teenage boys can be.’ You shake your head at him good naturedly but take his offered hand so he can lead you down what is clearly a well trodden path through the public gardens to a side gate that opens on the main road into town.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The first and arguably most important consideration when preparing a dish like this is making everything bitesize. Slice things too small and the flavours will not balance well, slice things too big and you will end up with all sorts of mess, but getting it just right? A slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, a spoonful of chutney, a sliver of meat could all fit on a cracker and be eaten in one perfect bite.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It is a short pleasant walk especially on a morning like this. The Abbey is about half a mile from the town and despite the occasional comment or funny look, the residents seem to have accepted sharing the area with a satanic church a long time ago. The residents of the Abbey brought a lot of business to the local shops and trades people, doing their best to contribute to the community they were fringe members of which served to strengthen the tolerance of their presence. You yourself had good relationships with the local food stores, avoiding spending your budget at the supermarket as much as you could, so you had never experienced anything but a sideways glance from some of the more conservative members of the community.

After about fifteen minutes you reach the town square which is already bustling with life even at this early hour of the weekend. Rows and rows of stalls fill the usually open space and there are already plenty of shoppers drifting from stall to stall. Having finished your coffees, you take his and put them in the nearest bin before pausing so you can come up with a plan of action.

‘When I come with Mona we try to be strategic,’ you explain as you try and suss out what the closest stalls are selling.

‘Oh, and why is this? To get the best produce? The best deals?’ He asks inquisitively, tilting his head as he thinks. You wish you could say those were the reasons but it was much less professional.

‘Nope. It is so we don’t get too full before we have eaten everything we want.’ He laughs loudly, clearly surprised at your reasoning but you try your best to keep your face straight. ‘It is important you know!’ you insist as his laughter calms.

‘You have been training me up for this moment, no?’ he says, patting his belly and winking at you knowingly.

‘Bigger appetites than yours have been defeated by the farmer’s market tasters, I will have you know,’ you respond, doing your best not to get distracted by his insinuation.

‘Psh, I could eat one of everything and still have room for whatever delicious dish you have planned for tonight.’ He winds his arm around your waist pulling you against his side as you walk together to the first stall. You can’t keep up your serious façade, his confidence and manhandling bringing a flush to your cheeks, at least until you realise what he said.

‘Need I remind you it is Saturday and my day off.’ You prod him in the side in retaliation and he jumps slightly when you catch his ticklish spot. He grabs your finger before you can poke him again, a little tug of war ensuing before he lets you free with a stern look.

‘Well I can cook for you then,’ he says, snapping his fingers as the idea comes to him. You dip your head for a moment, your chest feeling full at his insistence you spend even more of today together. Until the reality of him cooking anything for you sinks in. You had long suspected that he lacked even the most basic cooking skills, which was confirmed the only time you ever let him try to help you.

‘And what exactly are you going to cook for me?’ You ask as you reach the first stall filled with assorted jars of conserves and jams.

‘I will cook…’ He pauses, looking around at the closet stalls. ‘Cheese!’ he exclaims loudly, drawing some looks and a chuckle from the cheesemonger a couple of stalls over. He clears his throat, quieting his voice. ‘Cheese, cara mia, like we talked about the other night. Cheese and crackers and fruit and chutney. Like this!’ He picks up a jar of spiced cranberry chutney from the stall.

‘That will be 55 krona please, sir,’ the lady behind the stall tells him. He hands the jar to you and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing her cash and insisting she keep the change.

‘That’s not exactly cooking is it,’ you scoff, putting the jar in one of the many tote bags you had thought to bring along. ‘But that being said, I would be happy to join you this evening.’

‘Maybe not but I can assure you I will put a lot more effort into dessert,’ he replies with a smirk as he pulls you towards the cheesemonger. ‘Now, Signior, I need a selection of your best cheese for mia cuocoina, and a little advice.’

He leads the way around the market, insisting on tasting this and that and asking questions of the vendors about flavour pairings and serving suggestions until your tote bags are beginning to weigh you both down. You find a bench at the edge of the square and flop down onto it taking the weight off your aching shoulders. He follows after you, sliding the bags to one side so he can sit right beside you.

‘Try this, cara mia,’ he holds a small pastry to your lips, one he has already tried if the tell tale crumbs around his lips were anything to go buy. You almost refuse, your tactical plan having flown out the window long ago at his insistence you taste test almost everything. He looks at you beseechingly though and you cave, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed it to you. Before he can pull away though you close your lips around his fingers, getting your own back the only way you can right now. He freezes, his pupils blown wide as he watches you suck the tips of his fingers.

‘Fancy seeing you here.’ A voice you recognise breaks through your lustful haze. You almost choke between the pastry and Terzo whipping his fingers from your mouth as if they were burning. You swallow your mouthful without even registering if it was nice or not as you turn to see Lilly and Rich stood before you. You jump up quickly, offering them each a hug, then trying to stand between them and Terzo, wracking your brain to explain why you were out in public with Papa's fingers in your mouth.

‘Hi guys, what a lovely surprise. You should really try the pastries from over there, they are very good…’ You can feel your face burning completely at a loss on how to explain away what they must have seen.

‘Will Papa hand feed them to us as well?’ Rich asks sardonically, looking at you with your eyebrows raised as if waiting for an answer. At least until Lilly elbows him sharply in the ribs.

‘It’s so nice to see you and to see you too, Papa. Hello!’ She says leaning around you to offer Terzo a wave. He stands dusting crumbs from his face and his shirt and carefully keeping some space between you as he shifts to see them both.

‘Hello, Sister…’ He glances at you and you realise he has never met them before and some introductions are in order.

‘Lilly, Ter… Papa, this is Lilly and Rich. We work together in the kitchens.’ Lilly smiles at him offering another wave which he returns but Rich still doesn’t look impressed, clearly wanting to confront you both on what he saw.

‘Ah, si. Hello, Sister Lilly and Brother Rich. And I can assure you those pastries are delicious whether fed from my own hands or not.’ He switches his Papa persona on, and it’s a little jarring after all this time. ‘Sorella here, I have tired her out having her carry all these bags of things I wanted. I thought I better not tire her arms any further.’

‘Right,’ Rich replies slightly at a loss for words. You don’t think his story has helped the situation at all but though he looks a little awkward and uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem like Terzo really minds the two of you getting caught, so you take a deep breath and relax.

‘All this shopping and eating… I could do with another coffee, I think. Si…’ He nods to himself, already heading towards the coffee stall. ‘Anyone else?’ He asks almost as an afterthought and you all nod. ‘Four coffees then, ok.’ The three of you watch him go but as soon as he is out of earshot, they both turn to you.

‘What the hell was that?’ Rich asks in an angry whisper. ‘I thought you were just doing your job and he was far too stressed about getting fired to try it on? Not that it looked like he had to try that hard…’ He had always been protective of the three of you, but you couldn’t help feeling defensive when he had no idea what had been growing between you.

‘Oh leave her be, they both looked happy while they were doing it. What does it matter?’ You smile at Lilly appreciatively, thankful for her understanding.

‘Guys, please just listen.’ You knew you had to explain something. ‘We, well, look, we just-’ You can’t even find the words to start. It’s not like with Mona where you can tell her everything and she just understands, not that you have time for that anyway. You glance over to the stall and see him standing in line, carefully studying the menu and certainly not looking back over every few seconds. ‘I… I can’t really explain what we are; not at the moment,’ you sigh. ‘But Lilly is right, we are happy, everything is fine.’

‘You do look happy, and he looks better too.’ Lilly says reassuringly and you breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Yeah, no one can accuse you of slacking on feeding him.’ Both you and Lilly turn to glare at him.

‘Don’t be a dick, Rich!’ she admonishes him, treating him to another elbow to the ribs.

‘What?’ He says defensively rubbing his side. ‘He is looking a lot more well-fed than he ever did before.’ It isn’t an apology but it is probably as close as you will get from Rich.

‘Could you guys just keep this between us, please?’ You feel like you are begging, but the last thing you want is people finding out about the two of you through gossip. You hadn’t really thought about it or discussed it but you were sure that Terzo would like to tell his brothers himself when the time was right.

‘Keep what? There’s nothing to tell anyway, right Rich?’ She threatens him with her elbow one last time but relents when he agrees with a flinch.

‘Right, nothing to tell.’ The three of you look at him just as he looks away sharply and he gets handed the tray of coffees. You feel a little relief but the silence is awkward as you wait for him to make his way back over.

‘Caffè for everyone!’ He announces on his return and you each take a cup.

‘Thank you Papa, that was very kind,’ Lilly thanked him genuinely. ‘But we better get going. We have a list. Mona has really taken to bossing us around since you've been gone.’ You know she is joking, but it still sends a pang through you. As happy as you are in your current position, you do miss them. ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you! Bye!’ She grabs Rich by the elbow and drags him away with only one last glare over his shoulder.

‘Terzo, I’m sorry,’ You say slumping back onto the bench.

‘They didn’t know about us?’ He asks cautiously. He sits beside you but leaves enough space to be considered decent and keeps his hands to himself. You can’t decide if you are disappointed or not.

‘No, they didn’t.’ You shoot him a sideways glance and he is looking down at his coffee, his expression unreadable.

‘So, you haven’t spoken to anyone about…?’ He trails off, neither of you at a point of being able to define what is going on between you. ‘Even before, you didn’t seek out your friends?’

‘Well I did… Mona, but I trust her. She would never say anything.’ He holds up a hand to halt you and you feel a bubble of panic starting to grow in your chest.

‘That’s not what I meant, cara mia.’ He finally looks at you now and the bubble dissolves. His eyes are warm, full of care. ‘I am glad you spoke to your friend about this, just as I am glad of her discretion. I would hate to think about you being so upset and also alone.’

‘You were dealing with it all alone.’ His hand rests on the bench between you and you place yours over the top. It feels wrong not to be touching at all during such a conversation.

‘Ah, I am used to it,’ he says, brushing you off. ‘I am used to it.’ He turns his hand under yours loosely lacing your fingers together. ‘And anyway, I am not alone anymore am I?’ It’s a slow smile that grows across his face, like he is only just realising it now.

‘No you aren’t,’ you confirm, squeezing his hand and returning his smile. If you had your way he would never be alone again.

‘May I ask,’ he pauses like he isn’t sure he wants to ask what he is about to say. ‘Why you didn’t tell your other friends?’ But this is something you can easily offer him an answer to.

‘Well it’s just… Lilly is young, she is only twenty. It feels a little odd talking to her about relationships when she feels like a little sister, and Rich? Well, he is the biggest gossip in the whole kitchen. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he just gets a little carried away sometimes.’ You can’t help your fond smile. ‘And he is pretty protective of us, even if he can be a little bit of a dick about it.’

‘I see, I see.’ He seems happy enough accepting your reasons. ‘Are you ok?’ He inches a little closer now, already over keeping a sensible distance.

‘Yeah, I am.’ You decide even as you are saying it. The confrontation with your friends could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. And it’s better you get caught by your friends then any other random inhabitant of the Abbey. In fact, you should have foreseen this happening, going out together so close to home. You wonder if he feels the same though. ‘Are you?’

‘Si, I think it is time to go home though,’ he says and you nod in agreement. You think you have both had enough excitement for today. ‘I called for a car while I was waiting for the coffee,’ he admits a little sheepishly.

‘Oh, thank Satan.’ Your relief is palpable, both your full stomach and your sore shoulders thankful. ‘I thought we were going to have to carry all of this back.’

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Presentation is the second most important consideration and for that you need a suitable foundation. Depending on the number of people you are catering for you need a vessel large enough to hold enough food. The material is less important, dictated by aesthetic preference, whether you prefer wood, glass, slate or porcelain. Consider whether you need vessels for particular ingredients, additional cutlery to serve. By planning for all eventualities you make sure the meal is a success.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

With a plea from you and an order from Terzo a ghoul assists in carrying the bags back to his rooms, leaving them on the kitchen table before departing to wherever it is ghouls go when off duty. You begin to unpack, starting to sort out the haul to put in the appropriate storage but he comes behind you taking your wrists in his hands and steers you back out of the kitchen.

‘Mia cuocoina please,’ he murmurs against the back of my head. ‘I need peace for the art I am about to create.’ You try to suppress your laugh but it comes out an inelegant snort.

‘I can help,’ you reply, twisting in his arms to look at him. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’

‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It is my turn to make food for you!’ He continues shepherding you backwards towards his office. ‘Go have a nap, visit friends, whatever.’ he drops a kiss on your lips before spinning you back around.

‘You may come back in two hours,’ he swats at your ass as he opens the door and lets you out into the hallway.

You pause for a moment wondering where you even wanted to go. Going back to your rooms wasn’t very appealing, there were no distractions there and you knew the time would crawl by. The kitchens were out of the question right now if you didn't want to be subjected to the interrogation you were spared in town, something you were keen to avoid as long as possible. The gardens were an option except you could still feel the ache in your arms from carrying the bags around the market and you know for certain if Primo catches you in the garden there was no chance you would be leaving unencumbered by whatever vegetables he could give you.

Your wandering takes you past the upper clergy offices, mostly dark and unused of a Saturday afternoon but you spot movement behind one of the doors and you are not surprised when you realise whose it is. There is only one person you know that would willingly work on a Saturday and fortunately that was a person you had been meaning to speak to. Since you and Terzo had joined his brothers for lunch in fact. You had no sweet treats prepared for him today but you were sure he could do with a break. He could always do with a break.

Approaching the closed door you knock softly and wait for him to answer and the slightly frantic scuffling you can hear lets you know you won’t have to wait long. But a few moments pass before he answers the door. His exhaustion is plain on his face, sadly not much different than any of the other times you have seen him lately.

‘Sorella,’ he says with a tired smile when he registers it is you at his door. ‘How can I help you today?’

‘I found myself at a loose end and saw you were working!’ You explain as he holds the door open for you and gestures to the seat before his desk. ‘And why are you working on a Saturday?’

‘There is so much to do and so little time,’ he says, flopping back into his chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I was not busy today anyway so I thought why waste time when there is so much to catch up on.’ The clergy’s decision to remove Terzo from his position has caused more problems than you had first thought. You can’t help thinking how odd it is that no new Papa had been appointed after all these months when there was clearly a need but you set that aside for now.

‘Even you need a break Cardinal.’ You struggle to keep the worry from your voice.

‘Well you are here, let's have a break now.’ His smiles grows more genuine as he speaks. ‘I wished to speak with you anyway.’

‘Yes me too,’ you agree. It makes it easier now that he has brought it up himself. ‘I have been meaning to come and see you since the lunch but well, you know Papa, he was keeping me busy. Even on my day off he had me going into town with him to the farmers market.’ You are starting to worry your blush is becoming permanent and you hope your smile isn’t as sappy as it feels. If you plan to continue keeping your relationship quiet you really need to get better at schooling your reactions.

‘Si, I imagine Papa has lots to keep you busy.’ he agrees laughing but his face turns serious. ‘He is.. Well he is treating you well Sorella?’ He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully, his fingers coming up to play with his moustache nervously. ‘Like a gentleman? When things are hard I think sometimes he can forget he is a good man.’ You sense that Copia may be talking from personal experience and having seen that side of Terzo yourself you are keen to reassure him.

‘I think I understand what you mean, Cardinal, he …’ You pause thinking over your wording just as carefully. ‘When I first began working for him he was different, while everything was fresh but he, we, found a compromise. He has apologised for some of his more thoughtless actions.’ Copia raises his eyebrows and you panic momentarily. ‘Oh nothing so bad and really, I had a lot of sympathy for his situation. I wasn’t expecting him to be at his best.’

‘It was regrettable what happened.’ He takes off his beretta and runs his hands through his hair. ‘It .. well it was unexpected for all of us, I think but it is good to see him doing better.’ He does look genuinely relieved even though the situation has clearly impacted him. ‘All this food seems to be doing the trick eh?’

‘The food probably has helped, yes,’ you laugh, and the rest you thought, keeping that to yourself. ‘But I think it is really just time, Cardinal.’ He would have improved with or without you over time but you do like to think you have helped him move on a little faster then he may have done otherwise.

‘Now, can we discuss those notes you brought me to translate?’ His direct questions bring you straight back down from your romantic imaginings.

‘I was waiting for you to bring them up.’ You know you owe him something of an explanation but you are not above waiting to see what he has worked out for himself.

‘They, well I suppose I don’t know enough to say really,’ he begins confidently before tailing off. ‘But they didn’t read like professional recipes.’

‘That's because they weren’t but Cardinal, it’s not my place to say more, not that I even really know anymore.’ In this at least you can be honest. You could probably make a good guess as to who wrote out the recipes but you aren’t willing to voice that now. ‘He gave me some recipes and he never said where they came from or why that was all he wanted and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask. There were things said at lunch that might have given me some clues but even so.’

‘Si, before. I noticed that too.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘It has not been long since I was considered an outsider to them and outsiders really know very little by design. If it hadn’t been announced that I was also Nihils son then that would still be the case. But even though I never grew up the way that they did, well Secondo and Terzo anyway, I was here in the Ministry already and I saw what happened.’

You say nothing, waiting for him to continue sensing his need to unburden himself.

‘I was brought up as an orphan you see and while most children in the church are brought up communally, orphan or otherwise, the Emeritus brothers were always separate.’ He switches into lecture mode but you still hang on his every word. There were very few people you mixed with who had been a member of the church for so long. ‘Primo has always been here, his mother was a Sister of great reputation chosen especially to birth an heir but Terzo and Secondo, their mothers must have met Nihil on his travels because they weren’t brought to the church until the were ten, Secondo only a few months before Terzo.’

‘What happened to their mothers?’ A part of you feels bad even asking but your curiosity wins out. You would not feel comfortable asking Terzo himself this but it feels like the last piece in a puzzle you had been building since you had accepted this position.

‘They just carried on with their lives I suppose. I know Primo fought with Nihil about it, that their mother’s should have been invited to join them or at least to visit but it was decided. No distractions, they had had ten years of normal life and now they were to prepare for their future as men of the Emeritus line.’ His expression turns wry as he continues. ‘It makes me almost glad that he didn’t acknowledge me until recently. I might have liked having brothers growing up though.’ You pat his arm where it rests on the desk offering what little comfort you can.

‘Anyway I know Terzo’s mother tried for a while, sending packages of food and presents for him but I don’t know what happened after that. One day they just stopped coming.’ Your heart clenches, for Terzo, for Copia, for all of them. They may be in some of the most powerful positions in the Clergy but it was clear they had all been forced to sacrifice a lot for the privilege.

‘It sounds like it wasn’t easy for any of you.’ Like any organisation there were machinations going on far above the notice of normal members like yourself, you weren’t naïve enough to think otherwise but you found it jarring learning that somewhere that had felt immediately like home and safety to you had treated these men so poorly.

‘No I suppose not.’ He rubs his hands over his face, the conversation having turned heavier than either of you expected. After a moment he offers you a tired smile. ‘Now tell me more about this farmers market.’ You while away the rest of the time describing in detail the stalls and the tasters and when you eventually leave you hope you both are feeling a little lighter.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Once you have your vessel and your ingredients prepared then all that is left is the arrangement. There are endless ways to arrange the food enticingly. If you want your dish to be eye-catching and mouth watering you must consider the balance of colour and texture. You can create contrast with light and dark meats or cheeses. You may introduce pops of colours with fresh fruits and berries and mix textures with a soft cheese, a juicy fruit and a crisp cracker. Complimentary flavours could be grouped, the arrangement of your board encouraging certain combinations both traditional and daring. Your final result will be a visually appealing and delicious dish to present.

• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It’s been a long time since you have had to knock before entering his quarters but it feels appropriate now, giving him a chance to finish the final touches to his creation before you enter. You almost reach the point of knocking again, wondering if he hadn’t heard you when he pulls the door open. He was still wearing his shirt and trousers but he had borrowed your apron.

‘This looks good on you,’ you tease, pulling at the strap around his neck, but he only takes your hand and leads you inside.

‘Now cara mia you are in for a treat if I do say so myself.’ When you reach the dining room he stops you, placing his hands over your eyes as he guides you the final distance. ‘No peaking now,’ He says as he positions you at the end of the table.

‘Ta daaa,’ He uncovers your eyes and as you blink you can’t help but be impressed. The centre of the table is covered in what may be every plate in the kitchen; each one has a different cheese and its suggested accompaniments arranged around it. You had fought valiantly for any cheeses other than Italian but he had refused to budge keen for you to taste all of his favourites. He pours you a glass of wine, a deep red and hands you a glass.

‘This is Barolo, aged in oak caskets it is the most decadent of Italian wines. The King of wines they call it.’ You take a sip and examine the flavours. It is rich, fruity and floral but with an earthiness that should pair well with your meal this evening. You were by no means a wine expert but your palette was well developed over your career and you can tell an expensive wine when you taste one.

‘Terzo this is very extravagant,’ you stop when he raises his hand.

‘You deserve the best, cara mia, as does this cheese!.’ He gestures across the table and you survey all the options before you, savouring another sip of the wine. In the middle he has laid out a selection of crackers, water, butter and grain in a variety of different shapes. There was crumbling gorgonzola drizzled with honey to calm the bite of the blue veins and topped with quartered grapes and shelled pistachios. Slices of nutty pecorino sit between folded slices of ham generously filled with halved figs and walnuts. Cubes of provolone mixed with slices of olive oil, cured sopressata and green olives and taleggio and apple slices wrapped in salty prosciutto. Finally a bowl of whipped mascarpone, dark red cherry and balsamic dressing pooling between the peaks and whole cherries and pecans sinking into the soft cheese.

He pulls out your chair for you, getting you comfortably seated then he goes to take off the apron before joining you at the table waiting as you take in the whole spread. It is strange being on the receiving end of such a gesture. You can’t remember the last time someone had prepared an extravagant meal for you like this, even if he had only sliced and arranged the food, it was clear how much effort he has put in to impress you.

He lets you start helping yourself to the plate closest to you when you struggle to decide where to begin with so many enticing options. The two of you are quiet for a time only pausing to express your pleasure with the flavours to each other. After trying at least two helpings of each cheese you sit back with your wine before your stomach begins protesting after your second round of overindulging for the day.

‘Thank you for doing this Terzo,’ you say as you watch him assemble another mouthful. ‘I’m not sure I remember the last time someone did this for me.’ He pauses before taking a bite, looking at you in surprise.

‘Is that so?’ He looks thoughtful as he finishes off his mouthful, getting every trace from his fingers. ‘You are very welcome, cara mia. In fact I enjoyed doing this more than I thought.’

‘Am I out of a job now?’ You joke just to watch his eyes widen in panic.

‘Hold on no no!’ He shakes his head emphatically. ‘I did not mean that at all. I will always prefer your incredible cooking.’

‘I suppose I will stick around then,’ you reassure him.

‘Thank Satan as much as this was fun. I could not imagine doing it everyday, multiple times.’ He looks exhausted just thinking about it. ‘You are a superwoman, mia cuocoina.’

‘I’m not, I just enjoy it,’ you explain. You always had since you were young and had followed your mother around the kitchen.

‘Why do you think you were so drawn to cooking?’ He asks. It wasn’t something you had thought much about before. It had just been a fact of your life.

‘Well I like food obviously,’ you say with a laugh but you pause as you think of what it is you enjoy most about it. ‘I think it's just such a big part of our lives, we have to eat to survive so why not make that as enjoyable as we can?’ Of course it is your job and has been for the longest time but there is a more personal element to it, especially when it comes to people you care about. ‘And you know if you can cook you can make your friend a delicious soup when they are ill, you can make their favourite pasta dish after they just got dumped or you can bewitch a man by making his stomach fall for you first,’ you finish with a wink.

‘Mmmm I see,’ he says sipping his wine, his eyes going heavy lidded as he regards you. ‘So this was your plan was it?’ His voice goes deep and teasing and you shift in your seat.

‘No, just a happy accident.’ You lean towards him without even noticing, so easily drawn into his orbit. ‘I think my food was just too good for you to resist.’ He nods in agreement, conceding to your point but this conversation is far from its end.

‘And what about you?’ He holds your gaze, keeping you attentive to his every word.

‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head not quite understanding his question.

‘What made you unable to resist your Papa?’ You swallow thickly. There are so many reasons you wouldn’t even know where to start.

‘You don’t need me to tell you how irresistible you are.’ you say instead. You aren’t against stroking his ego usually but you know he is well aware of his affect on people and you in particular.

‘I have my own charms. I am in no doubt about that.’ He says confidently and you know it is true. ‘You though? I think it is a little different than any I have seduced before.’

‘Oh?’ You have an inkling where he is going with this. You had your suspicions that there were a lot more feelings involved then either of you were used to in your past relationships but this didn’t feel like the build up to a heartfelt confession. He was looking at you as if he had been leading you to a trap and you had just fallen in.

‘You like feeding me.’ he states, matter of fact, placing his wine glass down on the table.

‘Yes we have discussed that.’ You are sure the two of you had discussed how you enjoyed taking care of him even as early as your first dinner together.

‘No we haven’t. Feed me.’ His voice is hard but not cold as he orders you but you hesitate.

‘What?’ You think back trying to clear your confusion and you remember the lunch or more specifically just before when you had been reassuring him in his bedroom. You had known then that he wouldn’t drop that forever but it still didn’t make you any more prepared.

‘I am not yet satisfied. Feed me.’ You swallow again, unable to control your body's reaction to his strict demands. You want to obey him, to feed him but again you hesitate.

‘Terzo …’ He gives you a stern look cutting you off before you can continue. ‘Papa?’ It comes out as a question but it seems obvious what he wants. He rewards you with a smirk.

‘I want some more gorgonzola, si,’ He encourages as you take a water cracker and begin to load it with cheese. ‘Plenty of honey too per favore then be a brava cuocoina and feed it to me. Then I will explain.’ You offer him the cracker and he tuts at you shaking his head.

‘Uh uh,’ he sighs. ‘Do it properly.’ He pushes the plates to the side and pats the table in front of him. You stand uncertainly but he pats the table again until you sit before him and offer him the cracker a second time. He scoots his chair forward forcing you to spread your legs to accommodate him but now he is in the perfect position for you to place the food in his waiting mouth. He chews slowly, moaning low as the flavours combine and harmonise on his tongue.

‘Mia cuocoina, I think the taleggio now, no?’ You take his suggestion, the rolls of prosciutto and apple are much easier to feed him. He watches you for a moment before continuing. ‘There were clues you see but I did not notice at first. Now though, now your Papa understands.’ You offer him the next bite but his warm hand closes around your wrist holding you in place.

‘You kiss me differently, did you know this? After we have eaten, you like me tasting of food you made me I think.’ You feel like you can’t breathe as he begins listing all the things he has noticed. ‘And my clothes, you look at me differently too, when things get a little tighter, tighter than they used to be. You like seeing how I have changed with every meal you have fed me I think.’ You can’t deny it because what he says is true. A part of you had hoped he might not have noticed everything but with every word that hope gets smaller and smaller.

‘And now here. Your heart is racing and yet all I have done is eat a little from your own hands.’ He pauses to take a bite, his teeth sinking into the soft cheese and crisp apple and just grazing the tip of your fingers. ‘You enjoy feeding me, more than you realise I think.’

‘Papa I …’ You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look angry or upset but you feel the urge to apologise even as words fail you. He swallows the last bite freeing your wrist.

‘Shhh it is ok mia cuocoina.’ His hands trail down to your ankles tracing miscellaneous shapes into your skin. ‘Cherries now per favore. The balsamic cherries with the mascarpone. His fingers creep up your calves ghosting the shape of you before hooking behind your knees. He pulls you forward until you are sitting at the edge of the table. You lean across him, choosing a butter cracker, the thicker texture better to support the soft cheese.

‘I am craving something sweeter,’ he explains. You bring it to his lips, the cherry juice starting to drip down your fingers and he catches it with his tongue leaving a sticky trail behind it before closing his lips over the mouthful. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyelids droop seductively as he sucks the last traces of juice and cheese from your fingers.

‘That didn’t quite hit the spot,’ he says, hands already sliding your skirt up your thighs until he can clearly see your underwear and the wet patch there is little point trying to hide. ‘Ah so I was right. You do enjoy hand feeding your Papa.’ He spreads your legs even further so he can lean close enough that you feel his steady breathing against you. ‘After all that fuss.’ He grazes his teeth over your clit, the material of your underwear protecting you but the threat still makes your thighs shake. When he does bite down it’s only on the hem of your underwear as he pulls them to the side leaving you bare to him for the first time.

He just looks at first holding you in suspense but in a split second his tongue is all over you yet somehow still not hitting any places you wanted him, needed him. Around and around he swirls his tongue over your folds, then the most gentle suction. Little sounds of enjoyment he seems unaware of that vibrate through you as he tastes you thoroughly. But his teasing as you fed him, his sucking and nipping at your fingers had already got you ready for so much more. Giving in you lace your fingers through his hair to guide him to exactly where you want his attention most but he resists all your attempts, making the frustration inside you build and build. You try another tactic grinding your hips against his face but he pulls away pressing your hips down onto the table and stopping any further movement and forcing a whine from deep in your chest.

‘Cuocoina, please. I am just trying to properly enjoy my meal.’ He pauses to lick a long stripe, tongue flat and broad to give you as much friction as possible. You can’t breathe, not for a moment, the sudden rush of pleasure the only thing your mind can comprehend but almost as soon as it starts it ends the only thing you can feel are the puffs of his warm breath.

‘But perhaps you would prefer to feed me this too?’ He positions himself that he is a hair's breadth away from you before his vice-like grip on your hips loosens. ‘Feed me’ he growls and you have to obey.

You grind your hips against him over and over, his tongue finding your entrance making your thighs shake as you fight to get him even deeper. Your foot loses purchase where it had settled on the arm of his chair and you scream as your clit catches the tip of his nose. One of his hands finds its way to your thigh helping to steady you but the other creeps up your body underneath your dress. He cups your breast over bra, his maddening fingers finding your already hard nipple through the light material pinching and twisting until you can't decide if you want to arch into his teasing hand or push back against his face.

‘Papa! Terzooo,’ you moan his name in frustration, struggling as your pleasure builds to take what you need from him but he finally takes pity on you, hooking both your legs over his shoulders and lifting your hips clean off the table.

‘Fuck mia cuocoina,’ he growls against your core. He sucks your clit long and hard until you scream your toes curling against his back. ‘Sei la cosa migliore che abbia mai assaggiato, cazzo.’ You barely register his switch to Italian, too busy chanting his name in your pleasure fuelled delirium.

You are so close to the edge when his lips close over you sucking and sucking while his tongue swipes over your clit over and over again. You can feel it building, a charge shooting through your nerves from the soles of your feet to the palms of your hand and you continue babbling his name, repeating until it is almost meaningless. He pinches your nipple, hard, and you arch up from the table with a gasp just as he slides a finger inside you curling it perfectly to press against your g spot.

Every bit of air is forced from your lungs as your orgasm overtakes you. Your ears begin to ring as the force of it pulses through your body and what feels like every muscle contracting and releasing as you gasp for air. Your hands are still gripping at his hair keeping him in place not that it is needed as he laps at you greedily, catching every last drop of your orgasm.

‘Making sure you are well fed?’ You giggle deliriously, still feeling somewhat detached from reality. You release your death grip on his hair and he sets your hips back down on the table helping you ease the vice-like grip of your thighs around him. His face is wet with your slick but it only emphasises his flushed cheeks. He grins at you in satisfaction, his eyes sparkling as he takes in the state he has made of you.

He pulls you back upright by your hands after straightening your underwear and your dress but this time no one could mistake the treatment you had just received. Your balance has not yet returned and so helps you into his lap where you can lean against his warm body. As you get settled you can feel his hardness trapped beneath you but as you reach for him cupping him through his trousers, he catches your wrist gently and instead wraps your arms around his neck. He distracts you by stealing kisses and you discover you almost enjoy the taste of you on his lips as much as you enjoy the taste of the food you make him.

He slows your frantic kisses down, only offering you slow pecks to help you actually catch your breath. He rubs your back soothingly over your dress and encourages you to rest against him but you still end up clinging to his shoulders to help keep you upright as the haze of your pleasure recedes leaving you exhausted. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand settling at the back of your neck.

‘Mmm, now I am satisfied,’ he whispers against your lips before distracting you again with his captivating kisses.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fic #terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #it's baaaaaaaaack #there is zero point even apologising now haha but anyway #i hope it was worth the wait #banchetto #my writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.

"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."

She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."

"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.

"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.

"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"

"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."

"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."

"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"

"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."

"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"

"Wouldn't it?" You ask.

She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?

Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.

A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.

"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.

"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"

Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"

"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."

"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."

"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.

"I can't, I got the groceries--"

"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."

"Hon," she sighs.

"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.

"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.

"I will."

Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.

You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.

The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.

You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.

You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.

A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.

"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.

"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."

You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.

"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.

He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.

"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.

"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"

Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.

"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.

#series #au #drabble #the farmer's daughter #night hunter #walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #backwoods au

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thescarletnargacuga · 3 months

Text

THE UNSEEN

A Harlequin AU oneshot ft. my OC

AU and ART credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: heavy swearing, intense violence, blood, death

~~~

"Well, that was a fucking bore." Pomni flicked the charm into the air and caught it as she walked with her Caine-mandated blimp companion, Bubble. She had been sent on a mission by Ragatha to retrieve the charm, and she was sorely disappointed to find it unguarded by anything. She could just take it and leave. Yawn.

Caine's voice crackled through on Bubble's speaker. "I know, I'm sorry you didn't get the fight you wanted. If it's any consolation, we can spar when you get back."

Pomni rolled her eyes and pocketed the charm. "It's not the same, I need something I can tear apart with my bare hands." She clenched her mechanical hand tightly, and the metal creaked under the pressure of her grip.

"...You can tear me apart for your own sick enjoyment." Caine mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Pomni wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

"He said-" Bubble started to say before Caine cut him off.

"NOTHING IMPORTANT! I'm just disappointed for you, my dear, that's all."

Pomni took a deep breath and surveyed her surroundings. She kept her head on a swivel, especially when things were quiet. The lands outside the city were barren and vast. Scattered war ruins were half buried by time and the elements. The wind blew loose dust in wisps at her feet. The horizon was most often empty of anything particularly interesting, but today something unusual caught her attention.

"Hey, Bubble. Can you get a read on that?" She pointed to the anomaly in the distance.

Bubble hovered higher into the air, and with a mechanical click, a telescope stuck out from his capsule. "Hmmm, looks like smoke."

"Smoke?" Pomni repeated and squinted. "Were there is smoke, there is fire, and were there is fire, there is action!" She took off at a full sprint towards the smoke.

Bubble puttered along behind her and his speaker came to life with Caine's voice again. "Wait, what? Bubble, what's happening?"

"She found some action, boss." Bubble reported with a smile.

"Wonderful." Caine sarcastically replied. "What did she find?"

"Black smoke."

"Black smoke..? Is something on fire?"

"Not that I saw." Bubble would shrug if he had shoulders.

"Wait..." Caine thought outloud. "POMNI! STOP!" His warning came through in time for her to skid to a stop a few hundred feet from what she thought was smoke. She saw no fire. No puppets. Only thick black mist that didn't burn away under the bright mid-day sun. It held fast like a barrier around a wide area of the abandoned landscape, and she could just see the top of an old ruin towering over the mist at the center.

She groaned at Caine's interference, and was even more annoyed with herself that she actually listened. "WHAT, Caine?"

"Pomni, I'm going to need you to describe exactly what you're seeing."

"Uh...it's some weird mist? Pitch black, super thick. Can't see through it at all. Do you know what the fuck this is?"

Caine's voice came through clear and serious. Every word held weight. "Listen to me very carefully. Do NOT go near that mist. It's extremely dangerous, even for someone like you."

Her interest was peaked. "You don't say? What's in there?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "This is serious! There is an unbound construct in there that uses the mist as a cover. The locals call it The Unseen, but I think a more appropriate name is The Bladed Beast of Steel and Shadow."

"You know what is looks like?" She was sceptical.

"Vaguely, I was busy running for my life, but I am the only person that has encountered it and lived."

Pomni laughed. "Well, if you can say hello and walk away, it can't be THAT strong, now can it?"

"THIS IS NO TIME TO ATTACK MY EGO!" His voice cracked with desperation. "The point is, under NO circumstances should you seek out and try to fight what's in there! It WILL kill you! It's not like anything you have fought before!"

"So, what you're saying is, seek out and fight what's in there because it's not like anything I've seen before? Fuck yeah, I'm sold." She unsheethed her sword and advanced towards the mist.

"POMNI, NO!!"

"Pomni, yes." She grinned and licked her teeth. If this creature was half as epic as Caine made it sound, this was about to be a good day.

"POMNI! POMNI!!" Caine kept calling but she didn't respond.

"She's gone, boss." Bubble said as he watched her disappear into the veil.

"DAMN IT ALL!" A crashing sound in the background suggested that Caine had thrown something in frustration. "Stay right where you are, Bubble. I'm on my way. DON'T GO IN THAT MIST!"

"You got it, boss." Bubble lowered himself to the ground to conserve power for his tracking beacon.

Day became moonless night the moment Pomni fully entered the mist. The air reeked of unknown chemicals, her nose burned as she breathed. She tucked in her bell and pulled out some scrap cloth she kept for emergency bandages. She tied the cloth around her face, it helped some, but the air still felt corrosive. Her eyes watered on top of not being able to see more than a foot in front of her face.

She smiled under her impromptu mask. "Finally, a challenge." The uneven ground threatened to crunch under her footfalls, but her light step was just enough to maintain stealth.

She listened intently for any movement. Silence was all that greeted her as she slowly made her way through the abyss. She froze when something came into view. It looked like a puppet. It laid face down motionless on the ground, or, at least, half of it was. The other half was missing. As she continued, she found more bodies. Parts and pieces of varying puppets scattered the landscape. She stepped slowly and carefully over them.

She came to a wall of the ruin she had seen the top of. It was covered in claw marks as thick as her arm. Large dart looking projectiles were stuck in random patterns, some pinning unfortunate puppets to the wall. Her heart thrummed with anticipation, her body bristled on high alert. She gripped her sword tighter and clenched her mechanical fist.

A small piece of crumbling wall gave way and she looked to her right. Two pinprick lights looked at her from the darkness. "Ha!" She lunged and her sword struck right between the lights. She pulled back and the head of a pawn rolled towards her. It was already dead, the lights were on a helmet that has some power left in it. All she accomplished was give away her position. "Fuck."

Something unseen struck her with the force of a battering ram from behind and she went flying. She ragdolled into a pile of bodies and got up fast. The ground shook under the weight of a large obscured creature charging her. She saw two lights again, but this time, they were MUCH higher up and glowed like molten gold. As it approached, the golden glow spread to large fanned blades on either side of the creature's front legs. It pounced and she dodged the first strike. Followed immediately by a second strike she diverted with her sword, but only just, the force of the hit nearly tore her sword clean out of her grasp.

The creature kept her on her back foot, dodging a strike from a giant, razor sharp beak-like maw. She punched its face with her mechanical arm, and it reared back with an ear splitting, screeching roar. This gave her the precious seconds she needed to make distance between her and it. She held out her mechanical arm at what she could see of the creature, and her arm transformed into the barrel of a large gun. "Z says, eat shit!" She braced against the blast of the canon she had for an arm. An explosive incendiary round hit the creature in the shoulder. The air pressure from the explosion dispersed the mist around it, letting in some sunlight, and she finally got a good look at it.

It was horrific. An enormous quadrupedal metal construct covered in dried oil and rust bared its glowing blades at her. Slanted spikes covered its back to a heavy woven chain tail with a flared, spikey end. Black mist poured from its maw and chest, cloaking the area in shadow. It's eyes once again being all she saw.

"Holy. Shit." Pomni was THRILLED. This thing was everything Caine said it would be and more. She readied herself as she stared down the creature. "Come on, you motherfucker! Show me what you got!"

The creature roared and lunged. Its speed made the light of it's eyes streak in the darkness. It lashed out with its blades, she dodged. As it passed her, it swung it's tail, which has no glowing parts to warn her. It struck Pomni in the stomach, a single spike going clean through her abdomen and out her back. The creature whipped around and she ripped off the spike and flew into the ruin wall. The wall crumbled from impact and she fell with the rubble to the ground. She barely had time to get up before it was on her again, bringing down its claws. She rolled away and shot at it again with her arm. She was closer to the creature this time and made her own ears ring from the explosion but it got the thing to back off.

She got up and ran into the ruins. She tore off her mask to spit out the blood collecting in her throat. Pain racked her body and she braced herself against the furthest wall from the opening. She checked the hole in her abdomen, and she stuffed it with her old mask to stop the bleeding. "Fuck, that hurt."

A sudden shake knocked pieces of the ceiling loose and she jumped out of the way. The creature repeatedly slammed its body against the ruins, reaching inside to claw at her. There were broken stairs going up. She transformed her mechanical arm back into a hand and used its grappling hook feature to get herself up to the next floor. The creature dug desperately into the ruins on the second floor as well, so she went higher.

Looking out of a broken gap in the wall, she could see the glowing parts of the creature trying to break through the wall. Her knees started to shake. "What the fuck?" Her sword arm was trembling. "Knock it off!" She growled at herself. "Come on, think! There's got to be something..."

Talking to herself was helping subdue the shakes. "There were no spikes on the back of the creature's neck. So if I aim for the head, I may save myself from being skewered a second time. ...this is still a crazy idea." She jumped.

She came down on top of the creature's head and held on for dear life. The creature thrashed and tried to claw at her. It got in one solid slash in her leg but she held on. She plunged her sword into one of the creature's eyes. Glowing gold fluid spewed out and the creature yowled in agony. The fluid slicked her grasp and she let go before she got flung off uncontrollably.

She tucked and rolled away as the creature pawed at it's damaged eye. She took the opportunity to transform her arm back into a gun and take aim. The leaking flow made the creature easier to target, it poured down the neck and over the chest. She could see partially exposed mechanics from her previous close range shot. The core inside the creature was the source of the golden hour glow. "Gotcha." She fired her third round.

The creature was struck square in the chest, shrapnel exploded in every direction. Pomni covered her face as flying bits of metal cut at her body. The creature screeched and screamed and fell to the ground, gold fluid pooling around it.

Pomni kept her gun on the creature as she caught her breath. She took a few cautious steps forward. The creature didn't move. She grinned. "Fuck, yeah! Take THAT! Some creature of legend, you were! I've have worse fights with Bubble!" She laughed.

A blue flash of light next to her made her swing her gun around and she was looking at Caine. "Hey, you!" She greeted smugly and lowered her gun arm. "You're too late to join the party. I've already killed it."

Caine was out of breath. He had used a large amount of his blink ability to get here as fast as possible. He looked from the bleeding Pomni in front of him to the broken creature. "You...you what? No. That's impossible."

"Look at it and weep, tooth man. I should have made a bet with you." She transformed her arm and sheathed her sword.

Caine examined the surroundings. The mist wasn't clearing, it still emanated from the half glowing creature. The fluid around it stopped flowing out. He grabbed Pomni by her upper sword arm. "No... You didn't kill it. You just pissed it off."

The creature got up suddenly and charged the both of them. Caine blinked with Pomni to the far side of the ruins behind the creature. He took a knee. Between the travel to get to her and then blinking with her, he was feeling a bit drained.

"It was playing dead!? That bitch!" Pomni brought her weapons back out.

"Never trust anything is dead until you're holding it's heart in your hand, Pomni." Caine advised as he strategized. "How many rounds you got left?"

"Two" She cocked her gun arm. "And I took out one of it's eyes."

"What is it with you and eyes? First ragatha and now this?"

"Focus!" Pomni hissed. She watched for the creature. She could see it's faded glow searching for them.

"You have the charm?" Caine asked.

"Yeah." Pomni took it out of her pocket and handed it to him.

He took out a tool Pomni didn't recognize and used it to attach the charm to a metal band. He clamped it on her wrist and she felt a rush of energy.

"There. That'll help." He put his tool away.

"What is this?"

"Ragatha didn't say? It's a stamina charm. You could run laps around that thing now."

Pomni grinned. "Let's test it out then." She vaulted over the low wall they were hiding behind and followed the dim glow away from the ruin. Caine snuck out behind her and kept back a bit. Pomni kept low and quiet as she aimed at the glow. Caine readied his strings to either use against the creature or pull Pomni back. He wanted to avoid using his blink, as taking a passenger took a lot of energy and could render him unconscious if he overused it. Pomni stopped and so did Caine. She fired and hit what she was aiming for.

The target exploded into dust, but it was just that. Dust. She'd hit a rock with the creature's life blood smeared on it. They realized too late it was a trap.

The creature rushed Pomni and clamped it's sharp maw on her gun arm. Pomni was lifted into the air and thrashed like a toy. Caine activated his strings and the near invisible strands of energy connected to the creature. He struggled to hold it. "Drop her!" He commanded and the creature barely opened its maw. "I. Said. DROP! HER!" He shouted and forced the strings with all his might. The creature slowly opened its maw and Pomni fell.

She landed on her feet and rushed away. Caine couldn't hold any longer and the creature broke free. It went after Caine. He dove out of the way of it's deadly blades. Pomni took aim but realized her gun was bent to shit and would explode if she tried to use it. "Fuck!" She tried transforming it, but the bent metal refused. "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!" She released the dead weight of her useless gun and it detached from her shoulder.

Caine was dodging for his life, trying to stay in the creature's blind spot. He used his cane to stop a claw attack and cracks formed along its shaft. That's when Pomni came running up a pile of puppets to a broken wall and then launching herself at the creature. She aimed for its other eye, but the creature slashed at her and it's blades found purchase. She was carved navel to nose right up the front. She slammed to the ground and didn't get up.

"POMNI!" Caine signaled Bubble and the little blimp came down to his location. Bubble dropped small bombs on the creature whilst taunting it, giving Caine enough time to pick up Pomni and emergency blink as far as he could.

He collapsed to his knees from energy exhaustion and nearly dropped Pomni, but held her tight to his chest. She hung limply in his arms. "Pomni? Pomni, dear, say something." He opened her clothes and checked her wounds. The creature's blades had cut deep, all the way to her heart chamber. Her heart barely glowed with life. "No, no, no, stay with me. You're going to be okay, you hear me? You cling to life like the stubborn warrior I know you are!" He blinked away tears as he frantically dug for tools in his pockets. He was woefully unprepared. He hadn't expected things to go this bad this quick.

Bubble couldn't keep the creature distracted long. He ran out of bombs and flew away when the creature whipped it's tail and shot spikes at him. "Watch out, boss! The angry scrap pile is coming!"

Caine heard Bubble over his com and picked up Pomni. He had to find more cover. Even being surrounded by shadow, it's likely that thing could see through its own cloak. He ran as fast as could with her to a divet in the ground covered by victims of the creature. He slid inside the hiding spot and held Pomni close as he heard the creature roar. The ground rumbled as it grew closer. He held his breath.

The creature slowed, scanning the area. Fluid slowly dripped from its eye and chest. It growled with frustration, Caine could feel the bassy resonance in his chest. After a tense moment of the creature lurking near the hide away, it moved on.

Caine exhaled sharply and peeked out to see the glow of the creature fade into the blackness. He turned his attention to Pomni and held her cheek gently. She'd look like she was sleeping if it wasn't for all the blood. He brushed her hair from her face with his thumb. "I'm going to get you out of here. I promise." On an emotional whim, he gently kissed her forehead. Then he set to work on trying to stabilize her. He used his tool to remove a part of his own heart. It was excruciating, but he got it done and attached it to her damaged heart. The glow to her heart increased. "Atta girl." He smiled.

Caine racked his brain for ideas. They could try sneaking out, but without knowing the creature's location, that was very risky. He could try blinking them all the way out of the mist, but that would knock him out for sure and they would be easy pickings for the creature. He could try fighting it himself, but he knew he was no match alone. He whispered into his com. "Bubble? You still out there?"

"Yeah, boss. Just hanging out at the top of the ruin. You should see this view, so many war remnants."

"That's nice, Bubble. Listen, I need you to get help. Get everyone! Bring them back to this location and warn them of what's inside! Make sure they're prepared!"

"Sure thing, boss! Be back in a jiffy!" Bubble flew off out of mobile radio range.

Caine and Pomni pomni were left in the dark, eerily silent mist. He muffled a cough from the toxic air. Pomni stirred in his arms.

"Caine..?" Her voice was weak.

"Shhh, save your strength, my dear. We're safe for now but we have to be quiet. That thing could come back around at any time."

She could barely move, her whole body felt like it was made of lead. "I heard you..."

"What?"

"You said to hold on..."

Caine's eyes were soft. "And I'm so glad you did. Who would be a pain in my ass if you weren't around?"

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes to rest. He settled himself as best her could and tried to get some rest as well, who knows how long it would be before help arrived.

"Caine!? Caine! Can you hear me!"

Caine woke with a start to a woman's voice on his radio. He fumbled with his com and answered. "Ragatha! I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice!"

"Is Pomni okay!?"

"She's alive! Weak, but alive! Where are you?"

"We're just outside the mist. Bubble said there was, uh...angry trash attacking you?"

Caine facepalmed. "Yes, but not entirely accurate. You've heard of the Unseen?"

"THE- WHAT!? WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN THERE??"

"Feel free to ask a certain combat harlequin when she wakes up." Caine said dryly.

"Figures." Ragatha said with exasperation. "What should we do, Caine? I have Z, Kingr and Jax with me."

"Jax? Really?"

"Yeah, he- HEY!"

Jax's voice came over the radio. "Sup, gums. Heard you needed backup... and I was promised payment. So, were is the little beastie?"

"Somewhere in the mist. DO NOT underestimate it. It's fast for it's size and intelligent. Pomni took out its right eye, use that to your advantage, and it's chest is heavily damaged. Go for the core!"

"Sounds easy enough." Jax's dismissiveness made Caine's skin crawl but he didn't say anything.

Ragatha's voice came back. "Give- give it here! Sorry, about that. Okay, Z, Kingr and Jax will go find the creature and I will follow Bubble to your location. I brought your tool kit!"

"You're a saint, Ragatha." Caine sighed with relief.

"I know." She said cheerily and Caine chuckled. He caressed Pomni's face. "Did you hear that? We're getting out of here." She continued to rest.

After fifteen minutes, the creature's roar mingled with shouting. Caine carefully looked out and saw flashes of gold from an intense battle not too far from where he was hiding. The familiar puttering sound of a blimp propeller brought Ragatha to him and she held Pomni as he got to work on Pomni's heart.

Jax somersaulted through the air and brought his hammer down on the creature's head. It's maw left an indent in the ground and cracked from the force of the blow. It lashed out but the agile rabbit animatronic easily weaved out of the way. "Too slow, sucker!"

His distraction gave Kinger a chance to grab the beast. His large mechanical hands grabbed it's front legs, forcing the creature to stand on its hind legs. It's underbelly exposed, Z came in and pile-drived the creature. The force of the blow knocked the creature out of Kingr's hands and it retreated.

"Aw, come on! You running from this fight, you coward!?" Jax called after it.

Kingr and Z did not let their guard down. Even more black mist filled the space. "The Unseen is getting desperate." Said Kingr, back to back with Z. "Watch yourselves."

A flash of gold slashed in front of Kingr. One of his arms was cut, but still usable. The creature disappeared back into the mist before he could retaliate. Another flash of gold, this time slashing Z's leg. They didn't even react, they stayed focused. The next time the creature came in for a strike, they brought both of their fists down in front of them. They timed it just right to smash one of the creature's fanned blades. It screeched and ran off again. "There...that should give us a second." They said flatly.

It was only just. The creature came back, again and again. Tearing one of Z's smaller arms off. Slashing Kingr across the front. Snapping the handle of Jax's hammer.

"This isn't working!" Jax yelled and threw his broken hammer. He kept close to Kingr.

Kinger was locked in. He figured out the creature's pattern. He was next and he knew where it was coming from. The creature lunged and he got it by the neck with his good hand. He used its momentum to flip it end over end and slam it to the ground belly up. Z was on top of it immediately. They started prying open the chest cavity to expose the creature's core. It thrashed and clawed at Z but they powered through and reached for the creature's core. The creature used its back legs to throw Z off of and clawed Kingr's arm until he was forced to let go. Heavily wounded, the creature ran off and didn't come back. A trail of gold liquid in it's wake.

The three fighters caught their breath and Jax had to have the final word. "Aaaand stay away!" He gasped. He was glad that was over, for now. They carefully made their way to the others. Jax jumped in the hold while Kingr and Z stood guard.

"Hey, you done in here yet? We're done with the monster." Jax laid back, doing his best to look unimpressed, despite the marks on him.

"You killed it??" Ragatha asked, shocked.

"Well, not exactly, but it won't be bothering us anymore."

"If it's not dead. We're not done here." Caine said as he focused on his work.

"Caine-" Ragatha tried.

"I don't want to hear it. I want to display it's core in my study." He said with cold determination. He found renewed strength in knowing for certain that Pomni was going to be fine. Now, he wanted that thing dead.

"You trophy hunting now?" Jax asked.

Caine didn't get a chance to answer. Pomni was waking up.

"What I do..?" Pomni opened her eyes to see Ragatha holding her, Caine wrist deep in her chest and Jax lounging in the background. "Wha..?"

Ragatha smiled down at Pomni. "Hey there, sleepy head. Heard you picked a nasty fight."

"Yeah...it was awesome."

Ragatha giggled. "I bet you were."

"She was." Caine said. "And she still is, thanks to you." He finished and carefully closed Pomni's chest.

"And you. You're the one that really knows your way around the tools. I'm still learning."

"Quite the learning experience." He huffed.

"Oh yeah, she really puts us through it." Ragatha shook her head.

"Tell me about it." Caine finished packing up his tools.

"Can you two stop talking like I'm not right here?" Pomni said with a bit more clarity in her voice.

Caine and Ragatha look at each other. "Nah." They said in unison.

Jax gagged loudly. "If you three are done being weird, the creature awaits."

Pomni sat up. She ached all over, but she'd power through it. "Where's my sword?" She asked.

"Oh, I brought your spare." Ragatha handed it to Pomni. "Figured you might have lost the first in the fight when you...when you...lost." She awkwardly finished.

Pomni held it in her remaining arm. "Let's kill that motherfucker."

"Hell, yeah!" Jax cheered, only to be shushed by the others. Even Pomni.

"Can you not give away our location!?" Ragatha hissed.

"Wait? I said it's not coming back. It ran off scared. You'll have to find it."

"No, I won't." Pomni stood and climbed out of the hole. "That thing is a hunter. Hunters don't let prey get away." She looked into the darkness with steeled determination. She saw the trail the creature left when it fled, and started following it. Caine and Ragatha at her sides. The others followed closely behind.

Pomni walked as though she could see into the darkness ahead. She was in tune with the fellow hunter, now that she understood what she was up against. She stopped. They were close to the center ruin, whose top disappeared above the darkness. She looked up in time to see the creature leap from the fourth story.

"MOVE!" She shouts and everyone scattered.

The creature landed with a heavy boom than broke the ground. It furiously swiped at anyone within reach. Kinger being the slowest, he was slashed, but he grabbed the creature by the tail and pulled until he tore it off. Ragatha threw her spear and stuck it in the creature's neck. Z tackled the beast head on, holding the unbent blade wing out of reach. The creature snapped wildly, but Jax jumped on it's head and double stomped repeatedly. "Come on, Pomni! Get this over with already!" He shouted incredulously as he dug his heels into the creature's skull.

Pomni ran forward and attacked the core directly. Her sword piece a few tubes, letting loss a cascade of gold fluid, and the creature howled in pain and desperation. She heard Caine whistle. She looked to see him on the third floor. He held out his hand and made a gesture as though he were puppeteering. She nodded. "Get that thing on it's back!" She shouted and jumped with all her might.

Between Z and Kingr, the creature was laid out. Jax and Ragatha stayed clear.

Pomni felt herself go higher than she could naturally jump. She flipped in the air and dove straight for the creature's chest sword first. She and the creature locked eyes the second before impact.

"I win." She smirked and plunged her whole sword into the creature's core.

With a final gutteral groan, The Unseen died.

The black mist faded away to reveal the sky in twilight. Stars pinpricked the sky amongst deep shades of purple and red. The golden sun setting it's final farewell. The mist cleared the creature's hunting grounds, it looked like a warzone with the amount of bodies piled and strewn about.

Pomni pulled her sword free of the core and started hacking away at the neck. She decapitated it and unsuccessfully attempted to drag the head along with her, but Kingr got it for her. "To the victor go the spoils." He pronounced.

"That fucker's head is going over the mantle." Pomni said as she cleaned her blade.

Caine blinked over from the building and immediately started examining the creature's core. "Fascinating. Z, would you mind carrying this back? Not the whole thing. Just the core."

Z shrugged and pulled the core free of the creature's chest cavity. At the very center, still faintly humming, was a gold crystal.

"I very much look forward to studying this." Caine rubbed his hands together.

"Good for you, where's my pay?" Demanded Jax.

"Oh, I forgot you were here." Caine deadpanned. "We'll talk at the manor."

Ragatha went over to check on Pomni. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. A bit stiff, but I'll live. And thanks...things would've ended badly if you and the others hadn't shown up." She tried to be nonchalant, but her voice quivered ever so slightly.

Ragatha put her hand on Pomni's shoulder and smiled. "Hey, I'll always come when you call. No matter what. You can count on me."

Pomni gave her a reserved smile in return and put her hand on Ragatha's.

Later that evening, Pomni laid on the table in Caine's workshop. He was putting the final repairs on her body, new arm and heart. The piece of himself he used as an emergency replacement stood out amongst the rest he debated what to do with it. It was fine where it was and he could make himself a new part, but...what if she found it and didn't want it there? Found it violating? It wouldn't be right to keep it from her. His gentleman's code wouldn't let him. He woke her up.

Pomni looked down at her still exposed heart. "Uh...you done?"

"No. I wanted to ask you something." He pointed to the mismatched piece on her heart. "When you were...dying. I used a part of my own heart to keep you alive." He pointed to his own, a piece obviously missing. "It was an emergency, and I didn't know what else to do and I understand if it's weird to you that it's there but it does it's job so-"

"Caine."

He stopped talking, looking away.

"It's fine."

"Are you sure?"

She sat up and gently held his chin so he'd look at her. "Yeah, you gave up a literal part of yourself to save my life. I can respect that."

"I'd give up anything for you." It slipped out before he could stop himself. "Uh, except drinking. I won't do that." He tried to play it off as a joke but the look she was giving him told him she saw right through it.

She leaned in and kissed his bottom teeth. "Thank you."

The kiss left a shockwave of chills all the way to his toes. It was short, sweet, simple and he loved absolutely everything about it. He could barely form a response. "Anytime."

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lopposting · 10 months

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The major question of the story that we are now asking:

Why, exactly, does Carlo never "wake up"?

[long post]

[Spoilers ahead]

Well, simply put - Because he is dead.

OK, that seems like too obvious an answer, but I'll elaborate, and bear with me here. I want to recap some elements first so you know where I'm coming from, but I'm also trying not to completely explain everything because that's way too hard and would be too long.

[Currently, we don't understand everything about the story or its meaning. Because of some of the shrouded nature of the lore and narrative, it leaves much mystery. But from viewing these questions and the story from a thematic standpoint, something unexpected and really cool happened. I found that the story and the lore opened up in reverse.]

The easiest way to explain the plot (in my opinion):

It was my impression that Geppetto never “started” the puppet frenzy. The puppets were NEVER breaking the grand covenant, interpretably they are protecting humans by stopping the spread of the petrification disease, it’s just that everyone in the city was infected by that point.

Now with the puppets killing everybody in a city where everyone was infected (ergo being the result of the disease) Simon can go around harvesting all that ergo and Geppetto presumably plays him by letting Simon collect the Ergo first, and then sending P to kill him. [again, these details may not be completely accurate, but bear with me here]

Why create P in the first place?

He's made in Carlo's image so to speak because Geppetto hopes that Carlo's spirit will awaken. This is also why P is never bound to the covenant (it seems that not being bound to robot laws makes puppet egos awaken faster, since awakened puppets can break the grand covenant). So that is the two functions of P, to destroy puppets for ergo to harvest and so Carlo's consciousness can restore. I was just guessing that the arm of god was enough to get Carlo to revive, and Carlo's mental spirit reviving would be helpful but not entirely necessary. But for reasons we don't understand, Carlo never does regain consciousness.

Geppetto bitterly tells us that we don't seem to have inherited Carlo's memories. There is no big moment where Pinocchio or Pino or P reawakens, fully, as Carlo. He isn’t treated by the story as him. During the course of the game, P struggles to forge his own identity, to become a real boy, despite starting as a copy of the original. It’s a very fitting parable for the genre identity of a soulslike.

However, there are other successful re-incarnations of people through puppets, namely Sophia at the end of the Rise ending. We ask, for consistency's sake, why are puppet-form Romeo and puppet-form Sophia assumed to have retained their original identities, but not Pino? This is just my personal interpretation of why Carlo just couldn't or doesn't wake up. It isn't really based any lore or deduction from story details, this is from more of a philosophical point of view. And it isn't just the luck of the draw.

I had some initial thoughts about Carlo's failure. Romeo was made with intention of continuing to fight against the disease, as it's told that he "made a deal with the devil". Sophia may have been a special case, as she is a listener (Arlecchino even refers to her as the goddess in the tower), she may have had an ergo identity so strong that her essential self could retain this process. But either way, the implication is that Pino may have been able to recover her not long after that final fight. Look at the nameless puppet. The state of Carlo's body is so poor, that more than not his body seems to have been replaced with puppet parts. I think the implication was that Geppetto had been replacing parts as they rotted away. Maybe he had simply been dead for too long. But again, this isn't exactly why I think he couldn't awaken.

Simon and Geppetto

Lies has two main antagonists, although one isn't completely revealed until the last section. Both Simon and Geppetto are the perpetrators of Krat's destruction, but for what seems like different reasons. Simon is trying to be reborn, and Geppetto is trying to revive his dead son, Carlo. Interpretably, they are both trying to become Gods. Simon by grasping the supernatural, cosmic power of one, and Geppetto by raising the dead. They have destroyed Krat in their attempt to become a god, or more succinctly put, attempting to become God, singular. Geppetto's goal is, in essence, the same as Simon's goal - Because bringing back the dead would make him God.

That's why it seemed all so confusing. Haven't Geppetto and the alchemists already raised the dead, as Pino does at the end of the Rise ending with Sophia? Sophia, Romeo, and Carlo were all afflicted with the disease. Their Ergo were all made into puppets, but there's a minor but important distinction here. Sophia is still alive in her condition and actively suffering, this is the reason why she asks us to end her life. It seems as though Romeo lost his friend to the disease, and then made a "deal with the devil" to continue fighting, this implies being made into the king of puppets. We collected Sophia's ergo while she was alive, which we then used to animate the puppet. So the three of them were afflicted with the petrification disease. Sophia perished, Romeo perished, but Carlo died.

Now if we see the sand memories section of the beach, the stalker's words start to gain some clarity. If Carlo died from an incurable disease that the stalker couldn't prevent, why is she too late? Perhaps the goal was never to "save" Carlo's life. She laments; That she was too late, NOT to "save" him, but for him to be able to be restored. The stalker seemed to understand that whatever procedure needed to be done would be useless past the point of death.

I have to admit that there was something that I thought could override my theory. It seems as though the alchemists already were able to bring back both Champion Victor and The Eldest of the BRB, and from the dead no less. We read from notes in the Grand Exhibition that Victor had caught the disease, died to the despair of his adoring fans, but then miraculously made a comeback somehow stronger than ever. But maybe - he had only appeared to be brought back from the dead to the public, as Victor sought the help of the alchemists. And when it comes to the Eldest in the coffin, I'm wondering if he was actually only mortally wounded, leading the brotherhood to consult with the alchemists. [The way he was carried out by his brothers too (shouldered on either side) isn't typically the way you would expect people would handle a dead person]

Mirroring Sophia, Romeo, and Pinocchio, who were made into puppets: There is Champion Victor, The Eldest, and Nameless Puppet. We can see the former three as Geppetto's method of "cheating" God (cheating Death), and the latter three as alchemists' method. Only "Carlo" has a form in either one - The Nameless Puppet and the player, P. The Nameless puppet appears to share a similar undead quality with Victor and The Eldest of the BRB (including the tubes). We know that the collected Ergo can animate puppets, They are puppeting around their own dead bodies.

I feel like the Nameless Puppet tells us in a poetic way that Carlo is gone. My thoughts on this are more abstract. Again, this isn't from a factual analysis, but more of from viewing the Nameless Puppet itself as a metaphor. The Nameless puppet has qualities similar to the other undead bosses, yet the game doesn't describe it like it does Victor and the Eldest. It's not a body. It is a puppet [Human on the outside, mechanical on the inside - the inverse of our protagonist]. And straight in the text, we are told this is "The Nameless Puppet". But we know who Carlo was. His name was Carlo. We split open its head, and there are only cold, mechanical parts, instead of what we in the modern world now regard as the very most essential self (the brain). Because there was nothing to recover, there is no one there. Carlo's spirit had long, long since departed the world.

We are also told through one of the game's narrative devices that the Nameless puppet was the first puppet fitted with the organ. Ostensibly, Carlo's body was being prepared for whatever procedure that needed to take place, but Carlo died before that could happen (perhaps thankfully), and Geppetto pushed forward with his plans anyway, perhaps past the point of no return.

There are two forms of revival and we represent one of them, as in, there was the puppet form of Carlo and the undead form of Carlo. Presumably, the undead form was incredibly destructive, and thus stored away; We are the second try for Carlo's rebirth, this time in the puppet form, but we cannot even wake up without the aid of Sophia.

Lies, God, and the Finality of Death

But doesn't Geppetto actually succeed in one of the endings? Simon fails to become a god, (well, presumably only because we kill him in the process of doing so) and then we confront Geppetto. If we hand over our heart, Geppetto actually does revive Carlo. We see the resurrected Carlo, but with one simple smile we realize this isn't the Carlo the game has been leading us to believe existed. This ending leaves us with distrust and unease rather than a sense of peace and resolution. Simon fails to become a god, and at the bad ending - even if he "wins" - the game makes us wonder if So does Geppetto. No matter what, Carlo could NEVER be truly, and in both senses of the word, honestly, be revived.

[Simon Manus - like Simon Magus, the biblical figure who tries to buy into the supernatural power of God. And Geppetto, of course alluding to the 1883 italian novel The Adventures of Pinocchio - a puppet master, a creator indeed, but of wooden imitations of life, and a poor imitation of God]

So, why I think Carlo could not wake up? Because whatever needed to happen could not be done after the actual point of death, and Sophia and Romeo's hearts were both transferred before they actually died. His spirit had long gone from this world. Krat has methods of eternal life, but these transfers happened while they were still alive. While the alchemists and Geppetto could certainly cheat death (as we maybe even would with modern day medicine), they could not defeat it. Carlo can no longer wake up, Carlo can never wake up again, because he is dead.

#lies of p #lies of p spoilers #spoilers

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famemonsterrr · 1 year

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Astrology observations part 6. 🪽

- siblings were their signs are in the same element tend to be closer because of their same nature ( a friend of mine is a Sagittarius and her little sister is Aries and I haven’t seen these two arguing or being awful to each other EVER in fact they support and love each other sooo much)

- water placements do everything with music. Study, cleaning ect

- air placements need to watch something while they eat

- earth placements need a lot of silence.

- fire placements need a lot of excitement and adrenaline.

- speaking of music…go and see a playlist of pisces, Gemini, Aquarius and Sagittarius. They listen to EVERYTHING. ( my Spotify wrapped had my 5 top artist being different from each other because I can’t listen to one genre it’s sooo boring).

- again speaking of music…earth placements are the least experimental with their taste in music. They have found what works for them and they stick with it forever. (my Capricorn bestie listen to 3 genres my cancer sun bestie who has Virgo placements listens only to limited stuff and doesn’t know almost all of the iconic artists)

- Aries moon as kids they were getting angry for the most unnecessary reasons. It’s a fire moon thingy 💅🏻

- Sagittarius moon act like everything is fine and then cry behind close doors. Babes don’t be shy I promise u we will not laugh at u. 💀

Speaking of Sagittarius. They don’t open their hearts unless they know they will not be judged or make fun of. Deep down are really sensitive but they laugh it off because being honest and vulnerable is for the pussies right? (Women are more open with their emotions)

- Pisces has strong and weak memory at the same time. These bitches remember useless things or things that happened years ago but can’t remember a simple thing that was said 2 mins ago or even names that was said the very same moments.

- I have noticed cancer placements aren’t sentimental at all ( my cancer bestie throws away things and my mom who has cancer mercury doesn’t like to keep nothing unless it’s really important). On the other hand me as I Pisces love to keep everything to remember everything. ( i ain’t kidding but I have keeps every bottle of perfume I have bought or even broken stuff just because someone gave it to me. it really breaks my when I have to throw something away). Scorpio is the middle ground.

- I have seen cancers either having a lot of friends or just 2.

- Aquarius woman are always sooo likeable. I haven’t found one that i don’t like. They are just here vibing and doing their thing. Also they look younger than they are. Especially risings. (My bestie has Aquarius rising and looks underage when she is adult)

- Sagittarius placements if they reallyyyyy loooove u they care about ur opinion. Usually they don’t give a shit about opinions. (My ex boyfriend was like that he was asking me for everything. He wanted to hear my thoughts and opinions. That’s was really sweet and also was doing anything I told him would look on him.)

- I want to know what’s makes a Leo man dressing so flashy? Okay we support girly pops 💅🏻

- Capricorn men have the energy " I have big dick " metaphorically and literally but they will not flex it like a Leo or Aries would.

- Libra women tend to like men who are "uglier" than them.

- Scorpio placements know how to respect boundaries because they don’t like people crossing theirs.

- the water sign who tends to share a lot is Pisces the least of Scorpio

- the earth sign who tends to share a lot is Virgo the least is Taurus

- the fire sign who tends to share a lot is Sagittarius the least is Leo

- the air sign who tends to share a lot is libra the least is Aquarius.

- it’s very funny but as a Pisces with 8th house placements I can stay strong in very difficult situations and see the positive in bad but if someone break my mug or throws away a small thing of mine this is where I cross the line and start crying. Pliz fellow fishes tell me I ain’t the one🫣

- we need to talk about the fact when Virgo placements are in distress they will start cleaning the whole house. Like okay miss clean girly…maybe cry and let the cleaning for later. This coping mechanism is stressful. I want to hug y’all 😭

- I have noticed that Gemini writing amazing essays. They are amazing writing thoughts and feelings down on paper.

- if a Pisces placements friend or Scorpio placements friend or anyone with 8th house/12th house placements tell you they don’t like someone or they think the vibes are weird. Always TRUST THEM. they know what they are talking about.

- speaking of water signs they are stronger that what we gave them credit for. They don’t escape like a lot of people say. They are strong and keep until the end. Unless someone has 12th house placements or Pisces rising. (Sorry but y’all so self destructive).

- Capricorn x Gemini friend duo is also really underrated. They vibe sooo well even tho they have different styles and approaches to life but what they manage to do is that they have a lot of intellectuality. Maybe they would not last long but definitely they will have a beautiful friendship.

- Leo’s care for the opinion of others even if they say they don’t. You know this attitude "I’m a baddie I don’t care what people think" it’s their fake it till you make it but they never make it.

- when u see a air placements and earth placements cry u know it’s very serious for them and they need support 🫶🏻 btw they aren’t touchy so just allow them to cry without judging them.

- libra moons have u healed the fear of being alone?

- put a Pisces or Sagittarius in chart and u will see a psychologist or a person who loves the human brain and behaviour.

- Aries people are the biggest cheerleaders and women have girls girl energy.

- what’s up with mutable signs getting stimulated by a thing and then get bored of it? Like girlyyy why? Where is ur dedication? probably not in the room.

- Virgo men are sooooo messyyy…and rarely take care of their looks or their personal spaces ( I have sooo many examples)

- Pisces is disorganised in everything and it’s almost hilarious until they lose their things and then blame others.

- i will tell this 100 times if it’s needed but if u need help with ANYTHING go to a Capricorn friend. Even just an advice is really helpful. I love y’all sooo muchhh 🫶🏻

- 5th house placements showcase someone who not only is creative but will definitely have a good relationship with kids or will have amazing relationships with their own kids.

- 0 degree placements are showing that you are like the sign it is on. ( I have mars in Taurus in 0 degrees and honestly I act like a Taurus sometimes. The way I care for aesthetics,smells and I’m soooo stubborn in my opinions. it’s sooooo annoying)

- the most hilarious thing is hearing Sagittarius saying they are logical and not control by emotions. ( yeah that was my ex like girly pop u were influenced by every emotion and boredom is one of them. He cried more than me in the span of 2 years. Like okay hahaha babe keep believing ur delusions)

That’s all 🪽

Guys thank u for reading so far and giving a lot of support. I’m soo greatful every single time 🥰 stay healthy and hydrate girly pops 💅🏻

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #water signs #air signs #earth signs #fire signs #natal chart

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vvluvmai · 18 days

Text

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(adj.) feeling sad and lonely because of unrequited love

warn. Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, angst w/o comfort

sum. Years and years went by, the prideful man kept his secrets to himself, his most troubling one being love, love he had for his best friend since childhood. And to see her with another man, laughing and hugging, on the day he had built up enough courage to apologise and maybe even confess to the very person he had been in love and loving in secret for many years, it shattered whatever hope he had been holding onto for years. For the boy cried himself to sleep that day, and everytime his mind so cruelly reminds him of that fateful day.

char. Micheal Kaiser.

cw. This was written way before kaiser’s backstory was revealed but I tried putting in elements of kaiser's personality and updated it a lil, and also, my writing has gotten rusty after MONTHS of not writing so pls 🐻 with me <3 rushed(?), ooc, kinda cringe, drabble.

an. This is a pretty short drabble, lemme know if yall would like me into a bigger more clarified fic!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☃︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Michael was your typical highschool popular asshole. Even to his friends, he'd throw them under the bus just for shits and giggles. But yet, he had the tiniest of a soft side for his best friend, one who he.. at least treated as a human being. You'd always listen to him, his troubles, his gossip, hell, even about the most incoherent rants he blabbered out whenever he drank too much. He was much like his dad; a drunken, sentimental asshole.

Even at his most vulnerable moments such as..being drunk, his mind still somehow managed to keep a thick, strong wall protecting him against the judging hearts of others no matter how much he trusted or felt comfortable with them. Yet he felt comfortable in your arms when he angrily or stupidly rant about whatever bothered his mind, and at his worst, he'd cry in your arms completely unresponsive. Which has only happened once, an incident he swears never happened and continues to gaslight you into thinking it truly never happened.

Michael has always despised crying, growing up with both his mother and father belittling him whenever he cried because of the scoldings and punishments he gets for being what most would call a ‘problem child'.

And as a result of this, he'd always suck up his tears no matter how blurry his eyes get or no matter how much his eyes burn, never making a single decibel of sound no matter how much he felt like he needed to sob and bawl even when there's that mind numbing feeling of barbed wires tightening around his neck and digging into his body and killing every need to run and run far away.

Even if no one was around, he'd just simply let the tears fall, his body still as a rock and not making a sound. But he liked it this way. This way, no one would know that he was nothing more than a ‘schwache Heulsuse’. This way, no one would see those crystal tears that dared to run away from his eyes and thus, no one would be able to call him a ‘Weichei’ or ‘Rückgratlose Scheiße’ as his parents did. And to most, he'd seen like he's sleeping if it weren't for the tight grip of his pillow and the constant scratching of his arms to distract him from the pain that clouded his heart emotionally.

Michael's sarcastic and narcissistic personality was yet another result of his childhood and the constant drowning out whatever negative thoughts came to cloud his mind; hurling insults and gossiping helped keep his mind off what he'd have to endure at home. Constantly taunting, teasing, poking fun no matter who it was. But when it came to you, oh, you, people would die from shock to see how he was with you behind closed doors. A smile so genuine and soft, laughs so happy and beautiful and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle and pupils shine when he was with you, timeless and worth admiring.

If only he'd let go of that habit of his, pushing others away when got too close to his heart. And maybe then, he'd have you with him, smiling and laughing the same way he did when he was with you.

Well, highschool has passed. And now he was at blue lock, fighting for his life, rendering his enemies to mere shame to fill that disgusting—as he called it—aching void in his chest. The victory of defeating his opponents were always short lived, 5 seconds of the feeling of glory that vanished as fast as it came, but for cameras he maintained that smug, proud and confident face in hopes that maybe one day, the unrequited love of his life would leave her boyfriend for him.

He knew it was a shitty thought, the most pathetic and the most low he'll ever stoop to. But he couldn't care anymore, for someone who has gotten everything he ever wished for, this was that one thing that seemed so far away and ever so fleeting. Ah, if only he was more trusting. If only his arrogant and ignorant self could've let down the walls he built to keep the judgement of others at bay, so that he could be himself with the only person who actually cared.

He got everything he wanted, but not what he needed.

And now he had to face the mistakes of his way haunting him whenever he went out to clear his mind. Even then, she'd never leave him be. Her, so stubborn, that even now she refused to abandon him like all the others. Even if she was gone physically, she was still there in his mind constantly. His whole body tormented him, his eyes faking the illusions of her, his mind constantly bringing up the moments of comfort, laughter and banter he had with her. And the painful, disgusting, torturous moments where he made her cry, arguments, disagreements and shouting. And that one specific moment where his life had ended, when his life decided to walk far away from him was the moment that still kept him company, physically reminding him of what he had lost.

And now, his life was back to haunt him again. This time, it was no trick orchestrated by his eyes and mind to taunt him again, this time, it was real and he could swear on his bloodline.

The fashion he wore ever so immaculately, designed to flaunt his wealth, power and 'confidence', had people turning their heads in a whiplash. Michael looked around, looking for a store to waste money on and in the midst of his search, but his eyes caught a familiar face laughing.

Eyes widening in quick realisation as he kept walking forward that it was her, (name). The tiniest of smiles graced his face, little hopes clinging to his heart that he could fix what he broke months ago. But soon enough, all little hopes washed away like the shore when his eyes saw that (name) as clinging on to the arm of another man as they both waited for the red light to go green. Smiling, laughing and gleeful. Never had she looked this at peace, this joyful with him and it served fuel to the growing angering pit in his stomach. A pit of fury, hatred, anxiety and hurt all directed to none other than himself, for he knew that he was at fault.

Hidden in the bustling crowds, kaiser stood quietly. Face blank except for the way his eyes had seemed a little more dull than usual, mind full. His eyes blankly watched the red go green, and the standing couple walk.

Again, he watched his life woke away from him. And again, he was reminded,

He had everything he wanted, but not everything he needed.

♯

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —

Rückgratlose Scheiße - Spineless shit

Schwache Heulsuse - weak crybaby

Weichei - wimp

Thank you so much to all my clouds for waiting for so long, I'm not dead, I'm just dealing with abit IRL <33

tags: @kaiserkisser

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader angst #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #kaiser x you angst #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #michael kaiser x reader angst #bllk angst #bllk kaiser #kaiser bllk #michael kaiser angst

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hansensgirl · 9 months

Text

summary. | You have a less-than ideal encounter with your favourite boxer.

prompts. | Curtis Everett + Boxer + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + Dom/sub, requested by @geminiflanagansblog.

pairing. | dark!boxer!Curtis Everett x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, reader is a fan, roughness, manhandling, pet names, curtis is a boxer, dom/sub, mild smut, spying, fear, intimidation, slapping/impact play, Sir kink, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

You stand from afar in awe. You know you shouldn’t be here, but you can’t help it. The Curtis Everett is in town for a championship tournament, and you need to see him, even if you don’t have tickets to the match.

He has a reputation for his marvellous strength and stoic behaviour. He’s one of the best, and it’s no wonder you’re a fan of his. Who wouldn’t be?

You didn’t bring a camera, and though you have your phone on you, you’re not interested in taking a picture of him. There are plenty of those on the Internet. You just want to watch him in his element.

“You gonna quit lurking in the shadows?” Curtis suddenly calls out, and your stomach drops. He holds his heavy punching bag in place, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “C’mon, be a good girl and come out from there.” You hesitate. What could he possibly do? Maybe he’ll call security and send you on your way, effectively banning you from the gym. Or perhaps he’ll take matters into his own hands. Either way, you got what you wanted, so you’ll take your punishment.

He watches as you emerge from the darkness, sheepish and wearing the kind of clothes a girl like you shouldn’t have on at this time of night. Not around him, at least.

You stop after a few steps, feeling shy. Embarrassment has you burning in shame.

Curtis sighs, and he walks a bit closer. “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there,” he tells you once again, and you gulp thickly. You continue walking until you’re about a metre away from him, and the boxer meets you halfway.

“See? Wasn’t so hard to listen, was it?” he gruffly says, and you nod your head. You’re starstruck. You have nothing to ramble to him about, just an apology and a promise that you’ll leave him alone. “Words,” Curtis demands, and you stutter.

“Oh, uh, no, Sir,” you repeat, and he gives you a smirk. “‘Sir,’ huh? I like the sound of that,” he hums, stalking closer towards you. You find yourself not moving backwards, struck by fear and exhilaration and keeping your feet stuck to the ground. “I’m very sorry for, er—hiding? Spying?—on you, Sir. I promise I’ll leave you alone. You won’t see me again, ever,” you explain to him, wincing as you think about your silly actions. Getting caught by your idol was not what you had expected.

You go to turn around and rush out the doors, but a strong, large hand grabs your arm and drags you back. With minimal effort, Curtis pulls you into his sweaty, bare chest. He’s covered in body hair—one of your favourite things about him.

“Please don’t call security or the police, sir. I won’t say a word about this—I didn’t even take a picture, I promise!” you reason, but he remains unmoved. “Mmm, I won’t call anyone, sugar,” he grunts.

You let out a sigh of relief, knees buckling just a bit. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Sir!” you nearly squeal. Curtis doesn’t give you a smile, and when you look up at him, you notice a dark glint in his eyes.

It’s not the same look he has before defeating his opponents or participating in a weigh-in. No, this is different—something you’ve never seen before. It both frightens and turns you on.

The boxer doesn’t loosen his grip on your arm. In fact, he tightens it.

“But I can’t just let you leave like this—not when you’re wearing that, not when you haven’t been punished,” Curtis growls, and even though your panties dampen, your stomach drops in fear.

“It just wouldn’t be fair, would it?” he asks, but you suspect he doesn’t want an answer. “Sir–” you start, hoping to convince him to let you go. He tuts, shushing you. Curtis’ large muscles bulge as he pushes you towards one of the mats, shoving you onto it. You land on your forearms, going to stand up. But he’s too quick, too skilled.

Your skirt rides up—the one you wore in hopes of finding him. Now, you regret it. He’s nothing like the man you imagined him to be.

The boxer flips you onto your back and pins you onto the blue foam, hiking up your skirt so he can get access to your panties. You’re in a black, lacy thong. Curtis curses at the sight before chuckling.

“All this for me, yeah? My biggest fan wanted to get fucked by her idol, hm? Dirty girl,” he chides, pulling your underwear down. You try to kick your legs at him, but your attempts are futile. He’s too big, too strong. The exact things needed to be as successful as he is.

He groans when he finds you’re soaking wet, just as he predicted. “Please, stop!” you cry out. Your cheek stings as your head is forcibly turned to the side. There’s a crack in the air, the sound of skin on skin. You realize Curtis has slapped you, and you start to cry.

But your thighs squeeze together from the rough action.

“Aw, are you crying? That’s okay, baby. I’m always good to my worshippers,” Curtis says. His rough fingers find your folds, and he begins to rub your clit, making you garble a moan. “But only after I’ve put them in place,” he whispers.

You can feel him grinding his hard cock against your body, and his size intimidates you. You got what you wanted, but at what cost?

#sabs concepts #curtis everett #snowpiercer #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett au #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett x female reader #chris evans #dark!curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!#drabble #request #sab’s dark concepts (2023)

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miloformula123fan · 5 months

Note

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife author!reader? ( He's at Williams ) He always goes to her events even though he's busy but he still makes time just to support her. And vice versa. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))

this is definitely not amazing, but im secretly quite happy with it

(also updates are gonna slow the fuck down because i have assessments and exams this term yay /s)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

james vowles x wife!author!reader

---

book talk:

Y/N watched as a teenage girl walked up to the microphone. She clearly looked nervous, as had many other people coming up, but Y/N tried to make her feel as at ease as possible.

“Um…hey Y/N, my name is Elodie, and I just wanted to say how much I love your writing…” - Elodie

James quietly shut the door, once Logan and Alex were through, and didn’t try and push through the crowded room, they instead settled for a spot near the back where they could still see Y/N. They were sure that if people recognised them, they would be shunted towards the front or ushered backstage. They didn’t want that, they just wanted to stay inconspicuous at the back.

“Aww thank you Elodie, what was your question?” Y/N smiled reassuringly

“Um…well, for your book, ‘a sweet sting of salt’, I was just wondering if you had any inspiration for the character Tobias. While he isn’t the best character in the story, you said he was one of your favourite characters to write, and I was just wondering why?” Eloise asked

“Oh, that is a good question, thank you Elodie. Um… while the actions are obviously not based on him, a lot of Tobias’ so-called ‘good’ elements are actually based on my husband. So…okay I’m gonna hope that everyone has read the book, so I don’t spoil it,” she smiled “Um, so for those of you who are unaware, my husband is James Vowles, and he is the Team Principal of Williams, which is a motorsport for those who are very out of the loop. So I guess the main words I would use to describe both Tobias and James, other than loving because Tobias is definitely not, are logical, quiet, grounded, organised and productive.”

James smiles, watching his wife talk about something she was so passionate about.

“So for example, for logical qualities for Tobias and James in chapter 10, Tobias uses deductive reasoning, which I would like to say is James’ strong suit, however he sometimes misuses it, like deducing who ate the chocolate, the wife or the dog. Tobias uses it for more evil, using it for working out how to do the things he does. Maybe they are more evil and similar and similar.” Y/N pondered, garnering a small laugh from the audience

James stopped smiling, as he listened to his wife compare him to a literal murderer in her book. Logan and Alex were standing next to him, trying to avoid their laughs.

“Then for quiet, in chapter 16, James likes sneaking around and scaring the shit out of me when he gets back from the factory and from races to scare the shit out of me, and Tobias uses it for murder. Huh, maybe these 2 characters are closer together than I thought.” Y/N pondered, laughing as she saw her husband’s face

“Darling, I’m not a thief and a murderer. I honestly don’t know why you based Tobias off of me.” James tried to mediate.

However it was enough for Alex and Logan to burst out laughing, joining in with the rest of the crowd, who had discovered that James was there and found it very funny.

“I’m just saying you share similar qualities, more than I initially insisted. Are you sure you didn’t secretly murder someone?” Y/N tilted her head, as if genuinely thinking about the question

“Darling…” James tried to plead again

“ANYWAY - Then for grounded, in chapter 18…” - Y/N, moved on, continuing with her ideas.

---

garage:

“And during this safety car period, Alex, our camera man has gone for a wander and he has gone down to the Williams garage, and while we’re normally looking at the team principal or other important people, we have instead zoomed in on Y/N Vowles. Now for those who don’t know, she is a writer, and she seems pretty hard at work at this book on her laptop. Now that will be good news for anyone who reads her books, including me, she writes very good books, available at all the awesome book stores, and no she hasn’t paid us for that, we just think her books are amazing. Oh and she waved at us. Hi Y/N!” - Jolyon said from the commentary box

James smiled at the sight of Y/N on his screen. While this weekend had been very stressful, it was very nice having his wife be there for him in the garage and then back at the hotel rooms, even after all the late meetings. He watched as she smiled and waved at the screen, and he was unable to resist the temptation as he smiled at the picture and waved back, earning another laugh from the commentators.

---

book talk part 2:

“Sorry Y/N, my name is Leo, this is a bit of a personal question…” a teenage boy asked

“...as long as it’s not when I’m having a baby, or where I live, it should be okay, hit me!” Y/N tried to put him at ease.

“Your schedule for this book tour is a little all over the place, if you don’t mind me saying, it was basically like the first 2 months of the year, and now there’s just kinda weeks off or even months off, and I was just wondering if there was any sense to the schedule.” Leo shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how she would react to the question.

“Ah, well there actually is. First off, I cannot tour every week of the year, because I think I would just simply die. But the reason I picked those weeks off is because if my husband again. Are you guys sensing a pattern here? I love James, and I really want to support him at all the f1 races. So those are the weeks I took off, basically. And second, Baby Vowles is due in 6 months, thanks guys!” Y/N laughed as she put down the microphone and walked off stage, laughing as the cheers from the crowd grew louder.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

#miloformula123fan #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #james vowles x reader #james vowles fanfic #james vowles #james vowles fic #james vowles x female reader #james vowles x you #james vowles x y/n

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squish--squash · 3 months

Text

shittens...

lore and bonus art under the cut

(before I really start the lore I just wanna mention these two hatched from eggs. I have my own speculative biology hcs about cotl that keeps the canonical eggs bc I'm crazy. I'd infodump about it but I'm not sure how my followers would feel about me talking about the reproduction about a fictional group of anthros LSDHGS-)

anyways. Beleth (she/her): the younger twin, second to hatch. she was actually the first shitten I designed, she's got at least two prior attempts at a design before I really settled on her current design. She has two sets of ears and no horns, and her body plan is more of a sheep, except her arms are more cat-like with paws. as a kid, Beleth's pretty energetic and loves to run around, and talking to everyone she sees. very friendly and social. also chaotic at times and causes mischief. Unlike the Lamb, who shears often due to crusading, Beleth rarely shears herself, and keeps extra wool that grows on her head out of her face by pulling it back into a poofy ponytail (it's also a couple shades darker than the lamb). She also always has two bells on her- the bells her and her sister wore when they were babies

Erinyes (she/they): the older twin, first to hatch. her design just popped into existence without me thinking that hard about it, and I'm ngl she's my fav shitten of the two LSHDLGHDS. Her face and body are catlike, but there's some sheep features, like the ears, horns, and hoofed hands. She only has wool on her head, and it's black; as a kid, she hardly sheared it, but as an adult she keeps it a bit shorter, shearing off pieces that get too long. They're not nearly as talkative as Beleth, but they're very fast and graceful. She had a habit of climbing the trees on the edge of the cult ground for some piece and quiet and Narinder would keep having to climb up after her to get her down. When her wool is longer but not longer enough to shear, she keeps the wool out of her face by tying it off to the side in two sections. They're a bit taller and slimmer than Beleth, even as adults

speaking of adults, this is a quick sketch of them when they're fully grown (they're immortal like their parents, and stopped aging once they reached adulthood - which took quite a bit longer lol)

as adults, Beleth because the head nurse of the healers, being apprenticed by the former head nurse (who had been with them both since childhood, her skull necklace prolonging her life); Erinyes becomes the head of missionaries, teaching newbies, organizing supplies to take and where to go, unloading the hauls, and sometimes even joining on missions herself. Their outfits are different as well: Beleth keeps the bells, but replaces the garment she wore as a kid with a pleated skirt, the bells attaching to the thick belt she wears; Erinyes wears a cloak like the Lamb, with an undergarment covering her body (this is mainly to protect herself from the elements when she's outside the cult)

anyways, here's a bonus: I made some wives for the sisters lol

Mabre (she/her): strong, suave, and part of the missionaries. after she was indoctrinated from Anura she was placed to be a missionary; her ass was not listening for the first day bc she was too busy staring at her new boss gayly. gets quite a few scars from her work (including a ripped ear) but she enjoys the work, and doesn't mind. It takes a while for Erinyes to realize their feelings and it's only after Mabre almost dies that she realizes, and promptly pulls a Narinder by ignoring said feelings until Mabre finally makes a move

Hetry (he/she): shy and polite worshipper taken in from Darkwood, was pined after immediately by a certain shitten. They didn't actually talk tho until a prank gone wrong via Leshy resulted in Hetry breaking her leg, and he developed an instant crush upon watching Beleth chew her own uncle out within an inch of his life. enjoys the pleasantries of life and the simplicity of her work. there's a lot of mutual pining until the two finally get together (Erinyes would tease Beleth about it, and then gets a taste of her own medicine after Mabre's indoctrinated)

(they both wear golden skull necklaces for obvious reasons, but Mabre also wears a missionary necklace, while Hetry wears a nature necklace intertwined with his golden skull necklace; they also become disciples eventually, Hetry through her worshipper status and Mabre by constant feats of effort and strength to support the cult)

#narilamb #narilamb shitten #cotl shitten #cult of the lamb shitten

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crusty-chronicles · 3 months

Note

May I please request headcanons for Yusuke, Kurama, Hiei, and Jin walking in on their introverted, quiet female S/O singing and dancing to one of her favorite songs?

Yu Yu Hakusho Men Reacting To Their S/O Singing

Yusuke 💥

Out of all the men here, he's the one most likely to tease you for it.

He doesn't do it with any ill intent, he just thinks it's cute to see you so in your element.

Relaxed and out of your shell.

Singing to who knows what while swaying your body to the beat.

It has a boyish grin breaking out across his face.

Before he knows it, he's calling out to you.

“I didn't know I was dating a little rockstar.”

You jump and the sound of his voice. Scrambling to turn around and seeing his grin widden at your embarrassment.

“How long were you standing there!?!” You questioned.

“Long enough to know you've got a pretty voice.”

You could feel your face burn at his words. His playful expression not helping calm your nerves.

You tried to walk past him, not wanting to be humiliated any further. And when he gently grabbed your wrist, you went to swat at him.

“Hey don't be mean!” he whined.

“I'm not being mean! Do you know how embarrassing it is to have someone walk in on you?”

His eyes softened at your words. Cupping your face and guiding your eyes to his.

“Why don't you keep singing, and I'll dance with you.” His other hand rested on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

“C'mon, let me hear more of you,” he urged.

“Not happening.” You tried to stand strong

But when he placed his forehead on yours and softly said-

“Not even if I say pretty please?”

You knew you were a goner.

------------------------

Kurama 🦊

He's very sweet about it.

He'd heard you from the moment he entered your shared home.

Listening as the softness from your voice carried through the air.

He allows himself a moment to just bask in your voice before alerting you to his presence.

Making sure his footsteps were loud enough for you to hear when he reached you.

Little by little your voice had died down.

You looked everywhere but him when he greeted you.

Trying to appear like you hadn't been doing anything before he arrived.

But you had a feeling he'd heard you. A knowing look he could never quite hide from you.

Then there was the fact that the next day there was an album left on your bed. The same one the song you'd been singing the day prior was featured on.

You've had your suspicions for a while. Mentally psyching yourself up to ask him.

No doubt you'd be flustered beyond belief if he said yes, but a part of you still wanted to know.

“Have you ever heard me singing before?” You asked during dinner one night.

His response came immediately.

“Not once.”

You could tell it was more to save you from embarrassment than outright denying it. A part of you extremely grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Even if he was telling the truth, you knew he'd never like fun at you for singing.

He'd most likely do whatever he could to make you feel more comfortable.

“Would you like to?” You offered.

------------------------

Hiei ⚔️

You wouldn't even know he'd walked in on you.

Oblivious to the way he stood right beside the door frame observing you.

Hearing the sweet notes of your voice while you swayed. Your eyes closed in content.

He was gone by the time you opened them. You were none the wiser that your partner had returned.

Hiei figured he'd come back later.

When you were less occupied.

He didn't want to risk you getting flustered, knowing you wouldn't be able to look him in the eye for weeks. He was stunted when it came to reassuring you. Not really knowing what to say to calm you down.

He'd rather avoid that situation entirely.

Giving you your privacy pays off for him.

You become more comfortable with the relationship.

Every now and then letting a small tune slip while in his presence. Unaware you were even doing so.

He won't point it out or address it.

But he'll always notice it

Singing your human songs that you manage to put a nice spin on

And in rare instances, he'll hear you humming softly to him while his head is in your lap.

On the cusp of falling asleep while your voice lulls him.

It's something you do intentionally. Thinking he can't hear you in this state.

He can.

---------------------------

Jin 🌪️

It's actually extremely rare he's able to catch you off guard.

Jin’s a loud demon by nature. Usually announcing his presence when he visits you.

If you were singing before he came in, you're deathly silent when he approaches you.

Your face always flushed with embarrassment while he beams at you.

Picking you up and swinging you around before giving you a kiss

But there are times when he'll get home before you. Choosing to lounge about in your room until you get back.

It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep.

So imagine his shock at waking up to your voice.

It's muffled and quiet from beyond the door, but the melody is still there.

His ears twitching at the sound until he fully processes what's happening.

You're singing.

He doesn't think he's ever heard such a sweet sound before.

It has him practically gliding towards you. Surprising you when he hugged you from behind.

Hiding his face in your neck while he spoke.

“I didn't realize I snatched me an enchantress. You've been holding out on me.”

You gave a squeal, trying your best to cover your face out of sheer embarrassment.

“I didn't know you were here. I'll just…be quiet now.” You mumbled out.

“C’mon. Dontcha be shy now.” He pleaded, uncovering your face from your hands and cooing at your flustered state.

“How about I start ya off?” He offered before mimicking the tune you were singing previously.

Except it was horribly off key, causing you to start laughing.

It was the final push you needed before giving in.

“Okay, okay. You're a goof, you know?”

“But I'm yours all the same.”

#yu yu hakusho #yu yu hakusho x reader #yyh #yyh x reader #kurama yu yu hakusho #hiei yu yu hakusho #jin yu yu hakusho #yu yu hakusho yusuke #kurama x reader #hiei x reader #jin x reader #yusuke x reader #yusuke urameshi x reader #hiei jaganshi #yyh jin #shuichi minamino

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Dirty Work 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.

Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.

You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.

“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.

Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.

“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.

“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.

“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.

“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”

“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”

“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.

Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”

“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”

“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”

“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”

“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”

“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.

“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”

You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.

“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”

“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”

“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.

“Surely you recall the old ways.”

“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.

“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”

“She didn’t mention.”

“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”

“She has her staff, does she not?”

“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”

“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”

“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”

Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”

Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.

You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.

You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs.

You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.

“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.

You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.

Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?

You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.

You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.

You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.

You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.

You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t.

You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.

You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins.

You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.

The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.

You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.

The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?

You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.

They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.

She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing.

You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.

Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.

He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.

You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.

“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.

You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.

“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”

You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.

“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.

“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.

“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.

“Pardon?” You blink furiously.

“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”

“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”

“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”

“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”

“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.

You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.

“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.

You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.

“Stay as you are.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.

“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”

You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.

You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”

You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.

“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”

Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.

He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”

He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.

He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing.

You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.

Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.

Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.

You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this.

A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.

He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.

“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”

We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”

He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.

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