#and now I can’t go back???? merda

[thewulf]

Gorgeous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - So I was wondering if you could do a Jake Seresin x reader based on the song gorgeous by Taylor Swift. I just love flirty Jake and reader with lots of slow burn

A/N: Natasha’s sister moves to town and catches the eye of your favorite blonde pilot. 3 x 1 with each verse of Gorgeous by Taylor Swift angsty and flirty. The three times you flirt desperately with Jake and the one time he does something about it.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N Trace

Word Count: 4.7k +

One – The Party

“Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. She’s a biologist. Decided to move downstate to be closer to me.” Nat grinned squeezing your side knowing it’d irritate you. She knew exactly how to do that, had it down to a literal science.

You rolled your eyes, “Or a job transfer happened to land me here.” You corrected her not having much time to spare her much of glance as a new voice interrupted the two of you.

“Thank the Good Lord for job transfers.” A blonde pilot shot you a rather confident wink cheersing the guys and few women around him making his presence known.

Nat swatted his beer down from the table the group was using, “Don’t even think about it Seresin. She has a boyfriend anyway.” Your sister shook her head eyeing him carefully.

You looked over at Nat with an annoyed expression crossing your face. She didn’t know you and your boyfriend, Matt, were on thin ice about the job transfer. He was pretty damn adamant that he wasn’t leaving Los Angeles to move down to San Diego with you. You didn’t know how committed you were to making that drive every other weekend either. To say the relationship was rocky was a bit of an understatement. It was teetering towards the edge and didn’t have much hope for survival.

Jake shrugged, “For now.”

Your eyes looked back to him in curiosity. You weren’t sure if he was just playing around and fucking with your sister or if he was being serious and found you just as interesting as you did him but you sure as hell were going to figure it out, that was for damn sure.

He gave you the up and down after seeing your curious gaze. With a sly smile he took a step towards you. You would’ve let him, but your sister had other plans, “May I remind you. She has a boyfriend Jake.” You smiled up at him, he looked like a Jake.

He shrugged loving how worked up his coworker was getting over this, “Doesn’t mean I can’t make a friend Natasha.”

You bit back an even bigger smile not wanting to hear it from her later, not in the slightest, “Yeah Natasha, a friend.” You nodded playing along with him. You liked to work her up just as much, if not more than he did.

Her nose scrunched as she took your hand, “I don’t want to hear it from you, piccolo merda.”

You rolled your eyes at her Italian nickname for you, little shit, how original. The two of you were fluent in Italian, thanks to your father. He always said if he couldn’t raise you in Italy you were damn sure going to be speaking Italian inside the home. And so, you did.

It wasn’t two hours later you found yourself searching for the blonde pilot. You’d successfully ditched your sister after getting her a little too drunk. To be fair, you might’ve been a little too drunk for your own good. When you spotted him getting a drink from the keg you didn’t hesitate to walk right on up to him with a no-good smile right on your own face. Thank God for liquid courage.

When he spotted you walking too him he didn’t hesitate for a moment either, “Little Trace. Where’s your big sister?” He smirked while teasing you turning his body towards you leaning his side against the island counter.

You shrugged looking around, “She’s somewhere. Didn’t think I had to keep track of her.” Mimicking him you leaned against it too.

He shook his head, “I think it’s the other way around sweetheart.” His southern accent came out the more he drank. And he’d drank quite a bit leading to a thick Texas accent coming out of the woodwork.

You couldn’t help but to giggle, the draw that came off his mouth was so foreign to the prim and proper people of Northern California you’d called home your entire life.

His eyes shot to your lips hearing you laugh so sweetly. He couldn’t help that he was truly enamored with the sound that captured him so effortlessly, “What are you laughing at?” He quipped, far too curious for his own good.

You shook your head quickly, “Nothing.”

He took a step closer eyeing you up and down forgetting you were his co-workers sister for a second, “I don’t believe you for a second darlin’.”

You were ever so thankful for the beer in your hand giving you something to put your eyes on, “I wasn’t expecting that accent, is all.” You giggled once more feeling the effects of drinking one too many beers.

You’d officially piqued his interest. His eyebrows raised in amusement, taking a step closer. He was far closer to you than Nat would appreciate, and he knew it. But it really was your fault. He couldn’t resist that cute little laugh and pretty little eyes batting right at him.

“You’re drunk.” He grinned noticing your swaying and gentle grip on the kitchen countertop

You shrugged, “So? Isn’t that the point of a party?” It was then that you noticed just how close the two of you really were. One more step and you’d be on top of him. You couldn’t have stopped the blush that spread across your cheeks even if you tried.

His smile only made your stupid, traitorous heart hammer in your chest once more, “Your absolutely right sweetheart.” His answer caught your eyes. When he winked you were sure your knees would buckle had your sister not swooped in eyeing Jake with venom you hadn’t seen from her in a long time.

“There you are Y/N.” She grabbed your arm gently, “I’ve been looking for you. I want to introduce you to a few people.”

You nodded grabbing the beer Jake had poured for you, “See you around Jake.” You waved as your sister dragged you off.

He nodded, “You sure will darlin’.”

Two – The Hard Deck

The mission tonight was simple. Avoid Jake Seresin at all costs. It wasn’t worth the damn headache that came from Natasha. She reamed you out the night after the house party saying you had a commitment. That’s when it all spilled out, just how unhappy you were in your current relationship.

To your surprise it was Natasha that convinced you to break up with him, so you did. You felt that sense of clarity once he simply just accepted the fate destined rather than fighting for you. Instead of wallowing you felt at peace. Like you were free from a trap you wanted so desperately to get out from. You were able to do whatever you wanted. The only problem you had now was going to be Jake. You were drawn to him, so utterly drawn to him. Nat tried to warn you, but every story only made you more interested. She stopped when she realized what she was doing.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you were going to be so casually controlled by the man. So, you’d avoid him. It was easy at first. But got a lot harder as the night wore on and his eyes were on you for a majority of it. That and your eyes kept finding his more and more the night progressed and the more intoxicated you became.

You were all but successful in your avoidance until you felt a hand brush against your own as you walked across the bar. You stopped locking eyes with the man you were attempting to avoid.

“Hey sweetheart.” He smirked knowing he had your attention now.

“Jake.” You pulled your jaw up from your shocked expression attempting to smile sweetly at the man you’d been able to avoid for the majority of the night, until now.

“Little Trace, you’ve been avoiding me.” He grabbed for your hand. You should’ve pulled away. Kept the conversation short and simple between the two of you. But you couldn’t. Not with him. He had you fair and square now. The mission was failed, successfully.

You tried to play coy. Key word, tried. The creeping blush might’ve given you away though, “I’ve been busy.”

“Avoiding me.” A lopsided grin spread across his face as he played with your hand absentmindedly stepping towards you. He too was utterly drawn towards you just as you were to him. It was only a matter of time between the two of you.

“It’s not all about you Jake. I have obligations from Natasha.” You grinned feeling a shiver rip up your arm from the tracing he was doing along your thumb. He noticed, because of course he did.

He shook his head looking right at you. Hazel green eyes, staring in yours. Your heart felt like it just might explode from that look alone, “See that’s where your wrong sweetheart. It’s all about me.”

You laughed throwing your head backwards. It’d been a while since you felt such joy in the utter shameless flirting that was going on between the two of you, “Maybe in your world Jake Seresin.” You gave his hand a squeeze in your own.

“That’s where your wrong again. In my world it’s all about you.” Jake looked all too proud of himself with that line.

You let him have the win. You let out a another loud laugh letting him know you were all too interested in him even though everybody around you seemed to be rooting against whatever the hell it was between the two of you. It was just a simple flirtationship that you so desperately wanted to progress.

“That was too smooth Jake.”

He let out a soft breath debating what to say next. Like he knew he would screw up if he went down his usual route. He didn’t want to just sleep with you. You were different. He knew if he started something with you he had to commit. You were too special not to. That and Nat would kick his ass to high heaven if he fucked around with your feelings.

“You make it easy, Y/N. It’s so easy with you. I hardly know you, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Does that make any sense?” He let out. Almost afraid it was too much for literal strangers.

You nodded quickly, “I know what you mean. Like I trust you. Could tell you anything and you’d keep it a secret. I get it.” You affirmed him bobbing your head up and down in the overcrowded bar packed to the brim on a busy Saturday night.

He let out the breath he was holding in giving your hand a gentle squeeze in return, “I knew you’d get it Little Trace.”

“Can you I ask you something?” You asked, needing to change the subject feeling all too vulnerable all too quickly.

“Shoot sweetheart.” He nodded letting you know anything was fair game.

You looked him right in the eyes, “Why does my sister want me to avoid you so desperately? Why does everybody?” You asked not sure if you really wanted to real answer.

He let out a soft sigh, “That’s a really long story I’ll tell you another day.” He nodded along, “Long story short, they don’t want you around Hangman.”

You nodded along. That must’ve been his callsign, “Is Hangman a dickhead?” You asked unashamed. Half the alcohol, half you speaking.

This time he threw his head back in laughter. You caught him in surprise, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, “Hangman is a really big dickhead.”

You smiled loving this side of him you were sure didn’t come out all too often, “Well I’m glad I’m getting to know Jake, not Hangman.”

He nodded finally dropping you hand, “Jake only. Now, your sister is shooting me evil glances. Go make sure she doesn’t murder me later, yeah?”

You turned your head waving your sister off, “I promise she won’t murder you.”

“I’m going to hold you to it. Or I’m haunting your ass.”

You grinned deciding to grab his hand this time, “It’s a deal, Jake Seresin.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, “It’s a deal then, Y/N Trace.”

Three – The Football Game

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned sitting down at the picnic table witnessing the men in all their shirtless sweaty glory.

Penny nodded, “I know.”

“That’s just not fair. I don’t know how Nat does it.” You sighed tuning away from the shirtless group playing dogfight football on the beach, whatever that was. You couldn’t focus on trying to figure it out either. Jake looked too fucking good glistening, sweaty in the sun. What a cruel joke Nat was playing on you right now.

Penny smiled seeing you trying to avoid a certain blonde pilot playing football opposite your sister, “They’re more like brothers to her now.”

You nodded feeling your cheeks redden under her gaze, “What?” You asked trying to dodge her eyes.

“You like Jake?” She asked knowing all about his reputation. She knew it wasn’t her place to say a word. She was sure you’d heard everything about the pilot.

You just looked at her trying to come up with something, “I uhm, I think he’s quite cute.” You admitted feeling your already red cheeks deepen even further.

“Your sister said he talks about you a lot.” She told you.

You looked at her skeptically, “Really?” Being a bartender had its perks and one of those was learning about everybody’s business.

“Yeah. She told me the other night. She’s worried he’ll hurt you.” Penny admitted wanting to give you one warning. That was her motherly instinct kicking in for you.

You smiled, “She forgets we grew up in the same household. She forgets I’d kick his ass before he gets the chance at mine.”

“You should tell her that.” Penny laughed loving your confidence. You reminded her of Nat with that mini outburst right there. Penny loved getting to know the pilots that frequented her bar. Especially those who came back multiple times, your sister and Jake being just a few of them.

“Trust me, I try. She doesn’t listen to me. I’m just her dumb, stupid younger sister.” You sighed letting your frustration with your sister out. You loved her more than anything, but she treated you like a damn porcelain doll all the time. Like you’d shatter at any moment. It would’ve been sweet had she not tried to stop you from failing, something you needed.

“Incoming.” Penny smiled knocking you out of your thoughts. She stood from her seat across from you. She walked off towards Pete just in time for Jake to sit down next to you.

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiled so effortlessly while you felt like you were fighting for your damn life. Like the oxygen was suddenly getting sucked out of all the air.

You felt your eyes want to look down, but you knew you couldn’t. He was shirtless and you knew your eyes would betray you if they got a look any further below than his neck, “Hey Jake.” You felt your voice quiver as you looked away from him. It was like he had sucked all the confidence you once had and took it all himself.

“You look really pretty this afternoon.” He complimented you loving the way you looked in that dress far too much. Far too much for somebody who was just friends. He wanted you more than that and he was starting to get tired of waiting. He knew he was going to go for it the second he got back from the mission. It didn’t mean he couldn’t shamelessly flirt with you now though. Just to let you know how he really felt.

“You look… good yourself.” You kept your eyes forward trying not to give away just how damn attracted to him you really were.

He cracked a grin seeing you struggle under the conditions. He knew he had to make it just a bit harder for you, “Oh yeah? You think so sweetheart?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

He nodded slowly trying his best to get you to look down at his bare chest, “Well thank you darlin’.” He edged closer. And that was all it took to get you to break. You cursed yourself as you looked down at instinct to the subtle movement. He looked good. Better than good. Damn amazing. Gorgeous. He too looked oh so fucking gorgeous.

He smirked seeing that was what it took to get you to break, “As much as I’d like to tease you sweetheart your sister is walking over, and I don’t care for an earful. I’ll talk to you later?” He asked leaning closer to you.

“Yeah, later.” You smiled.

What took you by surprise was the quick peck on the cheek he gave you before running off. Not even having time to react to him before he was gone Nat stood where he was just moments ago, “What was that about?” She asked eyeing you skeptically.

You shook your head, “Nothing. Just Jake being Jake.” You smiled knowing it was over for you. You liked him far more than you really should’ve. Far more than he liked you. What you didn’t know was just how much he really did like you too. How slowly over the last few weeks you’d captured his every thought that wasn’t consumed by the mission. You had him smitten beyond his wild dreams.

Four – Return From the Mission

When you spotted her the tears sprung from your eyes immediately. You knew she was okay, she called to tell you. But seeing her was another story, “Oh, thank God.” You mumbled before walking as close as you could before you had to wait before they were dismissed.

Your eyes were glued on your sisters, but another pair was glued right on you. You didn’t see Jake watching you and only you. He didn’t have any family there to greet him. He hadn’t invited anybody. Not many people had. He couldn’t help but to feel a little twinge of jealousy seeing your eyes glued on somebody else. Knowing it was irrational he tried to keep his head on straight. How could he be jealous of your sister? A sister he’d grown to love dearly, in a different sense. Now that the mission was over he could focus on you, solely you now. If he had to stand behind your sister so be it, he’d do it.

The second you heard the dismissal call you were running towards your sister. You heard her grunt once you through your arms around her torso bringing her in for a bone crushing hug, “Natty, you’re okay.”

She laughed patting your shoulder. As much as you loved her she wasn’t one for much physical affection. Hugs made your sister rather uncomfortable, and you knew it. But you didn’t really care. You needed to hug her. To remind yourself that she was okay. She was living and breathing in front of you.

“Like I told you on the phone.” She smiled giving you one single squeeze back.

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly pulled apart from her, “You said you were fine. Who knows what that actually means. You could’ve been wheeled off the ship for all I know.” Crossing your arms over your chest you feigned a pout.

“You’re so dramatic.” She laughed

Shaking your head at her you smiled, “I’m dramatic? Last time you walked off the ship with a concussion and a broken arm. You said you were good. You’re not dramatic enough!” You countered earning a full-on laugh from your sister.

“As fun as this is. Jake is shooting me daggers for talking to you for so long. Why don’t you go talk to him and I’ll go find something else to do.” She said so nonchalantly you weren’t sure if you’d heard her right or not. Jake Seresin? The one you were supposed to avoid

You turned around connecting eyes with the blonde pilot that had captured your heart so effortlessly. Biting your lip slightly you gave him a quick wave before turning back to your sister, “What? You’re okay with this now?”

She shrugged, “He’s not that bad.”

You cocked your head to the side curiously. What the hell happened on the mission? She was usually an open book, “You’re not telling me something Nat.”

She shook her head pushing you away, “Go ask Jake then.”

Odd. Your eyes stitched together in utter curiosity. Where was this push coming from? She waved you off when you gave her a look of confusion. Turning back around you walked over to him, far less enthusiastic and far more confused than when you started your day.

When you made it to him he waited on you to speak first. A soft smile was tracing his lips as he studied your face once more. Thankful he was given the chance to look you over again. That was the first real life at stakes mission he’d been on, and it had him a little more thankful for the return to American soil he normally took for granted.

“Welcome home Lieutenant.”

His smile alone was enough to ignore any of the confusion your sister left you with moments prior, “It’s good to be home.” He paused unsure of himself. It wasn’t like him to be so cautious with somebody, but you were different. He realized that the second he laid his eyes on you a month ago. If you were anybody else he would’ve already wooed you and gotten you to sleep with him. But you weren’t just anybody else. You were you, Y/N. He was determined to do this right. For the first time in his life, he wanted something more, something serious. A woman he could show off to his friend and family. Somebody he could love and cherish. A partner to build a life with. And you, you would slide into that role so perfectly. He knew it.

He caught your eyes quickly giving him the up and down in the Navy Whites, your favorite return home uniform. They just made everybody look so polished. They made Jake look even better than he normally did. If that was even possible.

A cocky grin spread across his face knowing you felt the same way about him. Natasha all but confirmed it on the ship after everybody returned safely. You all but confirmed it with the way your eyes dragged all over his body and with the way you could hardly hold his gaze. He decided there was no time like the present to finally win you over.

“You look beautiful by the way. A true sight for sore eyes.” He brushed a lose strand of hair out of your face knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

A small laugh escaped your lips, “You’re just saying that because you’ve been stuck on a boat for three weeks with the same people.” Accepting compliments never came easy. Accepting them from the most gorgeous man standing in front of you? Impossible.

He shook his head quickly, “Trust me Y/N.” He inched closer so he was almost on top of you. If you couldn’t use your words before they weren’t going to come any quicker now. The scent of his musky cologne wafted into your nose and before you knew it your brain seemed to be short circuiting. How this man went from complete stranger to now blew your mind.

He leaned down seeing your starry gaze. Turns out he had nothing to be jealous over. You were just as smitten as he was. The evidence was written right across your love-struck expression. With a sly smile he leaned down whispering into your ear, “I thought you were drop dead gorgeous the moment I laid eyes on you back at that house party. But now that I’ve gotten to know you? You’re the most beautiful woman in the world Y/N Trace.”

Your jaw literally dropped when your brain decided to process his words, “Jake…” Your eyes shot straight to his lips before looking back into his eyes. He caught that. He caught every subtle move you decided to make. He was absolutely enamored with everything you did.

“Yes?” He asked once he reluctantly pulled away from your ear. He also noticed you shaking off the shiver that his actions delivered. He was enjoying this far too much. He could do practically anything and get a reaction out of you.

You sucked in a breath finding the courage to look him in the eyes once more, “Do you mean that?”

Without skipping a beat, he answered you, “Absolutely sweetheart.”

The smile that spread across your face could’ve cured a thousand diseases. Jake had decided. His own face spread into a big goofy grin feeling so damn good getting that one off his chest, “Nat isn’t going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me pretty girl, why’s that?” He inched just a step closer daring to rest a gentle hand on your hip. You let him, leaning into his touch softly.

You nodded quickly, “Because I think you’re fucking gorgeous Jake Seresin.”

The language paired with the delicate dress and sweet face would’ve sent him over the edge had they not been in such a public place with more than a few pairs of curious eyes on them, “Got a mouth on ya sweetheart, don’t you?” He shot you a wink.

“You know my sister right? She’s been like that her whole life. I think we came out of the womb cussing.” You grinned leaning into it. Maybe it wasn’t something to be so proud of, but you didn’t really give a damn. It meant survival in your crazy, chaotic Italian family.

He gave you one long look before whispering once more, “You don’t know just how bad I want kiss you right now. But your sister is staring right at the two of us, so I’ll spare you the lecture.”

You giggled feeling a rush of euphoria course through every vein in your body. Damn how did do that?

Pulling back once more he brushed his hand along the back of your arm making sure to keep you close, “Instead I’ll settle on this instead. Y/N, would you go on a date with me?”

“Absolutely.” You would’ve been embarrassed with how quickly you answered him but the smile that spread across his face spared you from that.

“Busy tonight?” He asked gauging your reaction.

“Tonight?” You didn’t want to admit just how quickly you liked

He nodded, “If you’re free.”

“I’d love to.” You agreed knowing that you’d be able to kiss him tonight. That certainly wasn’t in your plans today, but you were more than happy to change course for him.

He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“What should I wear?”

“That. Don’t change. You look beautiful as ever sweetheart.” He reached for a hand wanting to hold it for a quick second while Nat turned away conversing with Bradshaw. By the rate she was speaking she didn’t look too thrilled with what was going down between the two of you. She couldn’t be that upset though, she did just throw the two of you together.

“You flatter me Jake.” You laughed softly trying to play it cool.

He gave your hand a soft squeeze before dropping it, “That’s my job.”

You shook your head with ease, “I’ll see you at 7?” You asked before turning away from him, ending the emotion fueled conversation.

“That you will.”

“Oh, and Jake? One more thing.” You smiled up at him.

“Yeah?”

You gave him one long look over, “You really are gorgeous. I wasn’t kidding when I said that earlier.”

Was that a blush that you managed to give him? It looked like it and man did it make him look even more handsome than ever. That was your new mission. Get Jake to blush whenever possible. You just knew you might be getting yourself into the most fun thing that crossed your life’s path to date.

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Request Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit

[jeridandridge]

Hi, can I request a Melissa schemmenti x fem reader angst based on Slow burn by J. Maya idk the phrase "I thought I had to die for you to love me" that stuck with me and thought about some angst with a good cry

I pondered this idea for a while, but I’m pretty happy with what I came up with. I hope you dig it! 🩷

Trust

When you met Melissa you had no intentions of meeting anyone let alone falling for the red head after one meeting. You tried to be closed off, cold almost after your last relationship.

Your last relationship had been terrible, full of fights, long nights of crying, and love bombing. Now, 6 months after meeting Melissa you find yourself shocked whenever she does something nice for you.

“What’s all this for?” You ask looking at the set up in the living room. Blankets on the couch, snacks on the table, and the tv on ready with your favorite comfort movie. “What did you do?” You asks her in a quiet voice.

Melissa looks at you unfazed as she gets the couch all set, “You said you had a rough day, I figured we could have a nice night, hon.” She smiles sitting down and patting the couch.

This was new for you. Sitting down Melissa cuddles into you and it takes you over half of the movie to relax.

The next time you think something’s wrong is when Melissa sends you flowers at work. When your co worker hands the sunflowers to you, you pull out your phone calling the red head.

“Hi, tesoro.” The red head says through the speaker, you can tell she’s in a good mood.

“I got the flowers.” You say in a shaky voice. “What did you do?”

“Nothin, hon. I was thinking of you this morning is all.” She explains. You bite your lip trying to keep it together, feeling stupid once again.

A couple weeks later you can’t take it anymore. You stand at Melissa’s front door late one night knocking. When it opens, Melissa’s smile falls when she hears you.

“We need to talk.” You let out pitifully from the front porch.

“What’s goin on, Tesoro?”

You come in and don’t follow her, staying by the door. You know she’s going to be angry.

“I think we need to breakup.”

Melissa stops mid stride looking at you with hurt eyes. “What? I thought we were all in?”

You can’t look at her. If you do you’ll break and you can’t cry. Not in front of her.

“People say ‘it’s not you it’s me’ but really, it is me, Mel. I can’t do this to you anymore.” You let out keeping your eyes to the floor.

Melissa looks at you and pieces everything together in that moment. “No.” She says simply.

That’s when you look up at her with confused watery eyes. “What?”

Melissa meets your eyes crossing her arms. “No. I’m not letting the last jackass that hurt you ruin this for either of us.”

You look at the woman completely stunned. She was willing to fight for you, something no one had done before. That’s when the floodgates open. You let out a breath and want to curl into a ball alone. Before you can say anything, Melissa’s arms are wrapped around you and you’re in the warmest, safest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m sorry.” You sob, your arms are wrapped around her neck and your face is buried in her hair.

“I know your ex was a pezzo di merda, but I’m not him.” She says softly, her hands rubbing your back. “I’m never, ever gonna do anything on purpose to hurt you. I want you to feel safe with me.”

You can’t help but sob more as you hold onto her for dear life, her words hitting you right in the chest. After a few minutes you take a breath when the tears slow. “I’m sorry, Mel.” You let out. “I shouldn’t have freaked out the way that I did.”

Melissa pulls back, bringing her hands to your cheeks to wipe the tear stains off your skin.

“Whatever’s goin on behind those pretty eyes of yours, all you have to do is tell me about it.”

[piratekane]

fic: love thy neighbor

chapter title: crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon note: Another day, another AU - but this time make it collaborative! A dual effort by @kendrene and I to bring you some 'new neighbor AU' goodness and we are stoked about it.

The third time she hears someone curse loud enough to be heard through the walls, Beatrice gives up on the book she’s reading. It wasn’t very engaging to begin with, but she was going to give it considerable effort as it was the only book Lilith would even entertain for this month’s book club.

A voice not unlike Mary’s whispers that she can find the summary online and Lilith will be none the wiser. But she ignores that voice. She’ll just… try again. At another time. When whoever has moved into the apartment next to hers isn’t educating her on curses in… she thinks she recognized the Portuguese word for shit, but her rudimentary Portuguese greetings were reserved for her parents’ counterparts from Brazil and they certainly never used that kind of language with her.

The person - a woman, she assumes - swears again. Beatrice makes a face. Her last neighbor had been quiet, even in his death. She hadn’t noticed he was deceased until she knocked politely at his door to return his mail. And even then, the whole affair had been quick, neat, and silent.

This woman is none of those things, based on the fact that Beatrice has been dealing with this racket for what seems like hours and the various, numerous boxes spilling out into the hallway that start in front of Beatrice’s door and continue right into the next apartment. Some of them are open and most have large letters scribbled on them in marker, but no matter how she turns her head, Beatrice can’t make out any of the words.

“Hello?” she calls into the hallway, one foot still solidly in her own apartment. it’s never seemed so cramped here before now. “Excuse me?”

Something heavy and metallic drops and then there’s another curse - definitely merda this time - and the sound of something hopping in her direction. Beatrice pulls back, nearly ducking into her apartment and closing the door quickly, but before she can, a woman appears in the hallway, holding one foot in her hand as she balances precariously on the other.

“Oh. Wow.”

Beatrice frowns. “I’m sorry?”

The woman smiles crookedly. “I said, oh. Ow.”

No you didn’t, Beatrice wants to argue. But she doesn’t even know this woman. She looks young, hair cut to her chin and half pulled back, a cutoff shirt hanging off her frame and just above her navel. Her frown deepens. The woman looks hardly older than a university student. And Beatrice already lived through university-aged girls before; she has no intention of doing it again.

No, this won’t do.

She thinks about the diplomatic approach: introduce herself, how long she’s been living here, slip in a comment or two about the decorum of the third floor that she’s purposefully cultivated by surrounding herself with retirees. Her parents would approve of that. But the woman is still smiling, head tipped in curiosity now, and she’s waiting expectantly for Beatrice to say something.

Can you keep it down? Beatrice is sure those are the words she settles on saying, once the thought process behind them completes. While it would work best to be polite, the banging and the cursing did go on for some time. And, judging from the number of unopened boxes still awaiting in the hall, there may be a whole sleepless night of noise ahead. Unless Beatrice puts her foot down. Like, now.

“You look like you could use a hand,” is what comes out of her mouth instead, the moment the new girl’s fingers grip firm around her own. Her hand. Beatrice has never been more conscious of the tiny, bird-fragile bones moving within it, the play of sinew under her skin. The thunder of her pulse trapped against a palm that’s warm, but not sweaty. Calloused but not rough. 

“Boy, could I!”  Her new neighbor pumps their joined hands up and down, and it’s a miracle she manages to do so while remaining upright. Her other hand is still clutching her foot - the crash Beatrice heard tied to that, clearly  - so she’s balanced on one leg, precarious, like some weird, noisy bird. 

Although, what she really reminds Beatrice of, is an overenthusiastic dog. 

“Guess I should give you your hand back before I can use it, uh?” Heat scalds Beatrice’s chest, spilling past her collar. She clears her throat, staring at the space between them. New girl is indeed still gripping her hand. Beatrice slowly lets go. 

“It might speed things along, yes.”

New girl steps back with a grin, both feet back on the ground, and points at a pile of boxes. “Wanna start with those?’ Of course she picked the furthest stack from her door. 

“Sure,” Beatrice grabs one of the boxes at random, balances another on top. Finally, with her nose practically merged to the cardboard, she can spell out a word. It reads: rocks.

Odd.

//

Much later that night, the evening sky an indigo smudge framed by the bars of the fire escape outside her window, Beatrice is in bed and cannot fall asleep. It’s not that there’s noise. Ava - that’s new neighbor’s name - has pinky-promised she would tone it down, and to her credit she’s managed. 

Beatrice can hear her at times, the natural order of things in a building where walls are no thicker than wet wipes. It’s neighborly sounds: the shower running, a TV turned on low. The snatch of a song hummed tragically off tune. 

They’re different sounds, is the thing. Sounds she’s not had time to grow used to. Old Mr. Whittaker - Witkins? - he didn’t sing. He rarely even used his TV. How he moved around the apartment had been different, too. Beatrice can’t be 100% sure, but she’s pretty certain Ava actually skips from room to room.

A version of Call Me Maybe so mangled it barely resembles the original tune reaches her ears, and Beatrice is tempted to go close the window. She likes letting the late spring breeze in, though, that it smells of green things in bloom and summer to come. Plus, the fire escape is only accessible to tenants, locked on ground level behind a gate that opens with a code, so the whole arrangement is really quite secure.

Eventually the off-key singing stops. All sounds of traffic die. Beatrice falls gradually asleep, but the weight on her chest - the sense of unease that comes with having her routine so thoroughly disrupted - doesn’t lessen at all.

A weight on her chest wakes her, struggling to breathe, in the dead of the night. 

“Vince.” A voice she’s become painfully familiar with, whisper-hisses right outside the window. “Vincent, come the fuck out of there, now.”

Meow.

Beatrice freezes, immobilized. Every muscle group tenses in a methodical, frequently-practiced manner, starting with her toes up into the joints of her knees and into her hips. They’re tight, coiled, ready to jump at this sudden intrusion and disengage with this attacker. 

But her training fails her as the weight on her chest shifts and slides. She inhales, air like ice in her lungs, as something pin-sharp digs into her bare collarbone.  

In the dark, it takes her an excruciatingly long moment to put an image to the sensation on her chest as her eyes adjust to the sliver of moonlight coming in through the window. 

The open window. 

Where Ava, the woman who seems to be entirely made of catastrophes, is trying to wiggle under the frame, one hand outstretched as she hisses, her own voice cat-like.

The cat on her chest merely shuffles closer to the hollow of her throat as pointed claws sink further into her skin. They’ll leave a mark. Thick, soft fur sticks to her bottom lip and she strains her head backward so she doesn’t accidentally breathe it in. It seems to only invite the cat closer as it slides, boneless, into the space she creates.

“Excuse me,” she says quietly into the cat’s fur. 

It purrs loudly, an odd sensation against her breastbone, not entirely unpleasant. 

“Vincent,” Ava hisses again. “I’ll send you back, don’t think I won’t.” Something rattles, the point of a knee against glass, and Ava makes a pained noise in the back of her throat.

“I’m- shit.” There’s a loud shuffling noise and a deep groan as shadows dance across her bedroom wall and create a large, crouched and pointed shape. 

Beatrice turns her head as Ava crawls in through the window, body contorting in a way that it shouldn’t. There’s a low hiss, a slight growl. Ava wiggles through the opening, landing on her hands, her legs suspended outside above the fire escape for a moment before they slip in after the rest of her body as she collapses into a heap on the floor.

Beatrice feels the floor shake as Ava lands hard on top of it. The cat - Vincent - doesn’t seem bothered by the noise, purring loudly and nosing his way into the curve of her neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Ava whispers, voice strained. “Oh my God, Vincent.” The backs of her knuckles dig into Beatrice’s skin as she wiggles her way under Vincent.

That sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant either, but Beatrice doesn’t linger on that, all of her attention on the way Vincent’s claws dig into her skin and hold on. He yowls, scrambling out of Ava’s arms and darting away in the darkness.

Air rushes back into Beatrice’s lungs. She blinks at the ceiling until she looks back down at her chest. Ava is staring at her hands, still over Beatrice’s sternum, face pinched in thought.

“Excuse me,” she says again.

Ava, unlike Vincent, startles and takes a staggering step backwards. She trips over Beatrice’s slippers, placed parallel to her bed, and falls. The floor shakes again. 

"Are you okay?" 

For the second time in the span of a few short hours, Beatrice ends up saying something she immediately regrets. She should be angry. She’s furious. She’s -

Ava sits up, peeking over the edge of the bed, and refracted moonlight falls across her face. It casts a silvery aura around her, a nimbus, a halo. Her forehead is still scrunched up, in pain perhaps, but when she notices that Beatrice is staring, her expression changes. 

“Is it too late to say I’m sorry again?” Ava offers a sheepish grin, a small shrug.

“It’s too late.”  Ava winces, and because a sensation close to the kind of regret one might feel after scolding a child spears through a part of Beatrice she wasn’t aware existed, she hastens to add. “Timewise. It’s - what time is it, actually?” The cold, clipped tones of her initial reaction had made her sound too much like her mother. 

“Uhm.” Ava’s eyes flick to the digital clock on the nightstand. “You don’t wanna know.”

Beatrice sighs. Then sneezes.

“Oh, shit, are you allergic?”

“I don’t know.” Another sneeze. “I never had a cat climb on me before.”

“Yeah.” Ava shifts to her knees. “About that.”

“You’re sorry?”

“He’s new.”

“Like you?” A thud, followed by the roll of something heavy across the kitchen’s floor, prevents Ava from replying. She just peers through the open door of Beatrice’s bedroom, mouth open, eyes wide. A second louder thud reverberates through the apartment. The distinctly metallic sound of tin cans dropping on tile.

“I think Vincent got into your cupboards. We should probably -” Beatrice is already out of bed, flicking lights on as she goes. “ - get him.” Ava scrambles in her wake. 

In the kitchen they waste a good half hour and two cans of premium Albacore tuna trying to coax Vincent out from the cabinet under the sink. 

“It’s not his fault, really.” Ava tells her, somewhat muffled, while she twists her upper-body around spare bottles of dish soap and stove detergent. She’s got a knack for wiggling into tight spots, Beatrice thinks, crouched behind her with a flashlight. Hopefully, Ava’s head is wedged so far up the crawl space beneath the sink she cannot hear the sharp intake of air subsequent to that thought. 

Beatrice runs a hand through her bed-tousled hair and vows to never let her mind wander in that direction again.

“Right.”

“I mean it!” Hiss. “I got him from the shelter. Poor Vince, was all alone.”

“I am starting to see why.”

“You don’t understand.” Ava shimmies back, emerging from the bowels of the cabinet with a scratch on her cheek but absent a cat. “They wanted to put him down.” Her bottom lip quakes slightly, and she blinks up at Beatrice rapid-fire, like the idea dislodged a landslide of other memories inside her. “I couldn’t leave him behind.” She scrubs at her cheek, and her fingers come away red. “How much cleaning stuff do you own, anyway?” 

“Well, you must use beeswax for wood. And cast iron pots require -” Beatrice’s teeth snap shut around the rest of a tirade Ava probably has no interest in. “It doesn’t matter. You’re bleeding.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“Don’t be. Just come here.” Beatrice stands, extending a hand and hauling Ava to her feet. “Wash your face in the sink. I’ll grab the first aid-kit.”

“But Vincent…”

“He’s safe enough in there. Leave him until after we’ve cleaned this.” 

She takes a moment longer with the first-aid kit than she needs to, poking around the cabinet it’s logically stored in like she hasn’t recently restocked the one bandage she’s used in the last month. Ava is none the wiser, standing at the sink and staring at the dark gray microfiber hand towel Beatrice keeps next to it, lost in thought.

Beatrice takes a moment to drink in the sight of Ava. 

Her head is bowed, the overhead light sliding across her shoulders, bare except for the thin strip of fabric that holds her tank top in place. For a moment, she looks as if some otherworldly light is emanating from her, brightening her apartment in a way Beatrice has never seen before.

Ava bends over the sink, turning on the tap with a flick of her wrist. She cups her hands, lets the water pool in white palms, and brings it to her face slowly. It runs off her cheeks in rivulets, beads of cool water sliding down her neck and gathering in the hollow of her throat. 

Beatrice’s own throat goes traitorously dry, air locking tight in her lungs. A gauze pad wrinkles in her hand, the plastic loud in this vacuum she feels stuck in.

Ava turns her head and Beatrice can’t hide her sudden inhale behind a bottle of dish detergent this time.

“I found it.” Her voice feels unknown, like she’s just forming her mouth around the words correctly for the first time. She holds up the gauze in one hand, a small tube of antibiotic in the other. “Sit.”

Ava presses her face into the towel and Beatrice files a thought away for later. She holds it up; Beatrice shakes her head and Ava drops it next to the sink. Her slide into the chair is with a grace that rivals her rather abrupt entry into Beatrice’s bedroom.

She rises above Ava like a dark tower, eclipsing the sun. Her fingers curl under Ava’s chin, lifting gently. Their eyes meet briefly, Ava’s a honey gold and brown, before she focuses on the thin scratch across her cheek. She turns Ava’s head, studying it carefully.

“It won’t scar.”

Ava lets out a thin stream of air Beatrice feels against the back of her hand. “Thank God for that. It’s my primary moneymaker.” She smiles at the blank look in return. “I work at the university. The… the rocks? Nothing?”

Beatrice frowns. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. What do… rocks have to do with your face?”

“I’m the one who does the fundraising. People don’t like to pay for-” She grins a little, voice pitched low as she mimics the way Beatrice said, “rocks.” Her voice returns to its natural register.  “Unless there’s a pretty face selling it to them. And my department is made up of men who found the first rock, so they won’t do”

For a brief moment, she wonders if making a charitable donation to the Geology department at the local university might get her anything in return. 

“So, do you teach about rocks, too?” Beatrice asks to distract herself while needlessly re-arranging the contents of the first aid kit she’s already set down on the table in a line. Gauze pads, Neosporin, the box of kids’ bandaids she was forced to get the last time she’d been to the pharmacy, as they’d run out of anything else. It’s a rather minor scratch to take care of. Beatrice really doesn’t need to triple-check what she’s just double-checked in her head. 

She’s stalling.

“Uh-uh.” Ava slouches a little in the chair, legs stretching out in front of her. “A few. Mostly introductory courses. I like that I get students to really think about what’s under their feet. About what dirt and rocks are made of, how they’re formed.” 

Beatrice blinks down at her hands, hovering inches from the piece of sterile gauze she meant to daub disinfectant on. She’s hung on the tone of Ava’s voice, talking about her job. There’s a subterranean current to it, a note that invites Beatrice in deep. Joy.  Awe. For an adult to retain this level of wonder, it’s a rare thing. Like a vein of precious mineral, wrought from the underbelly of the earth out into the light. 

“What about you?” Ava is asking. Beatrice blinks to find that her hands knew what to do on their own. Ava’s chin is again trapped in the cage of her fingers, and Beatrice can feel her jaw moving, pressing into the palm of her hand when she talks. She tries hard not to think of the way Ava’s breath paints feather-soft strokes on her skin. Of the curve of Ava’s cheek that for some reason she aches to explore. 

“Do you play doctor often?” There is a teasing lilt to Ava’s voice, a crinkle around her mouth. It is a joke.

“Only when my neighbors sneak through my bedroom’s window at night.” 

“Yeah, not my best moment, I’ll admit.”

“You could say,” Beatrice dabs disinfectant over the scratch, inwardly wincing in sympathy at Ava’s slight flinch. “That we got off on a rocky start.” 

“Oh, wow.” This time, there’s no doubt, not that there was any the first. Beatrice heard right. “I think I might be in love.” 

The tub of Neosporin she’s been squeezing cream out of goes flying, skidding to a halt by the cabinet where Vincent is still hiding. Intrigued, the cat hops outside and circles it, sniffing. 

“Oh, no.” Beatrice feels horrible for overreacting. Ava certainly didn’t mean anything, She couldn’t have been. It wasn’t an attempt to flirt. “If he licks that he’s gonna be sick.”

“Vince, I told you the five second rule doesn’t always apply.” As soon as Ava stands, Vincent makes himself big with a hiss. “Fine, get sick then. See if I care.” A slight tremor puts chink sin her tone. It’s clear that she does.

“Let me try and get it away from him.” Beatrice suggests. She doesn’t particularly care for a scratch or a bite, but the mess is her fault in the first place. She should be the one to fix it. “If I can just—” 

Crouching low, never breaking eye contact with Vince, Beatrice extends a hand slowly. Her fingers brush against the tub of cream. Tighten around it. She’s beginning to pull her arm back when Vincent headbutts it, a purr vibrating out of him. 

“Oh, he really does like you, doesn’t he?” Ava says behind her. “Then again, who wouldn’t?” And Beatrice, who’s always kept her cool in the face of unexpected market crashes, almost loses it all over again.

“I’ve never had any- “She’s going to say positive but she thinks twice. “I’ve never had any interactions with cats before.” She’s still crouched, hand extended as Vincent rubs up against her arm. “He’s very… soft.”

“You don’t feel itchy or anything, do you?” 

Beatrice looks back over her shoulder, mouth pinched in a frown. Ava looks intent, more serious than she has in the hours Beatrice has known her. 

“Or your throat closing, or anything? I’m not a doctor but I watched a guy have an allergic reaction to shrimp once. I didn’t know what to do then and I’ll be honest, I haven’t brushed up on anything since then.”

Beatrice feels a flicker deep in her chest, a sort of affection she didn’t know was possible in such a short amount of time. “If I was going to have an anaphylaxis allergy to cats, we would have known when he was sitting on my chest.” She slowly retracts her arm and Vincent simply moves along with her, winding around her legs instead.

“He, uh, really likes you,” Ava says. There’s a bit of a pout in her voice, mirrored in the shape of her mouth. “He doesn’t like me that much.”

Beatrice tries to remember where she was with the Neosporin. Ah, yes. She continues to squeeze it out onto the gauze. She’ll apply a bit to the wound, then put a bandage on it. She’s successful this time, hands firm around the tub. Of course, Ava doesn’t say anything to distract her.

“Surely he liked you at the shelter.” She tips Ava’s chin back again. She has mesmerizing eyes this close up. Like circles of golden honey. Her cheeks flush.

“Well, not really,” Ava admits in halting words. Beatrice’s hand slips from her chin and Ava grabs it, holding it against her skin.

Beatrice’s fingers nearly go slack again at the sensation. She prides herself on her ability to maintain herself, though no one would believe her if they saw her now. Ava’s words register. “No?”

“Nope.” Ava’s mouth pops the p. “But he was there, being passed over for kittens. I couldn’t just leave him.” Her voice is trembling again and Beatrice wants to go in and find the source of it, to make it stop. It affects her in a way she can’t quite describe.

It’s unlike her. Everything since she’s met Ava has been unlike her.

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she says quietly. She feels him against her legs, moving between them and Ava’s. She’s suddenly aware of how she’s positioned herself, standing between Ava’s legs. The inside of Ava’s knee is hot against her leg through her thin pajama pants.

“Or we’ll have to split custody.” Ava smiles. Beatrice feels it in her hand, still trapped against Ava’s chin. “We’d be tied for life.”

Beatrice’s chest shudders at the thought. It sounds terrifying and appealing. She’s unsure of where this is coming from - she’s known Ava Silva for less than 24 hours and the majority of their time together has been one disaster to the next. But there’s something intriguing about her, like she’s made up a complicated number system Beatrice wants to take apart and turn around in her mind. 

She files the thought away to be revisited later. Later, once Ava is back at her own place. Later after she’s latched the bedroom window shut and put a little distance between herself and a night that somehow feels like a dream.

“I’m sorry for the kids’ band aid.” Beatrice applies it over the cut with care, again taking a moment longer than is necessary with things to smooth it across Ava’s cheek and make sure that it’ll stick. Yellow ducklings swim on it, the band aid’s background vibrant blue. 

“Regular band aids are boring.” Ava doesn’t try to stop her from retreating this time around, and another small shiver ripples through her. It feels like something of a crack. Like the minuscule hairline fractures that sometimes appear on drinking glasses right before they break. Beatrice doesn’t think she’d have known what to do had Ava leaned into her touch again. Still, a part of her wishes Ava had.

“Uhm, anyway.” She takes a step back and towards the sink, meaning to wash her hands. “I never answered your question about my job.”

Ava’s gaze on her back is as tangible as touch.

“Tell me?”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit like adult band aids.” Beatrice clears her throat, forcing more words out. “Boring I mean.”

“I still wanna know.”

“Finance.” Beatrice has no idea why she’s so nervous about it. She’s never felt this on edge about telling someone what her job is before. It may not be the most exciting career one can have, or what she would have picked were there not so many expectations weighing her down, but she’s worked hard for it. The youngest associate at her consultancy firm in more than ten years, with the prospect of rapidly climbing the ranks. She should be proud of it.

She is.

“Numbers uh?” Ava hops off the chair and stretches. The t-shirt she’s wearing rides up, exposing the enticing strip of skin at her navel. Beatrice looks quickly away. “Like Wall Street and stuff?”

“Nothing that grand.” Vincent, who’s kept on following her, paws at her leg and meows. “I try to steer people away from risky investments, mostly.”

“Maybe my department should hire you.” Ava begins creeping forward. “Whatever money we get through fundraising is always gone so fast. It’s like the Geology department is built on a sinkhole that eats cash.” 

Finally within striking distance of the cat, Ava lunges. Her fingers close around his scruff, and she lifts him up, firm but trying not to hurt him. “Ah! Gotcha!” 

Vincent’s meowing reaches ear-splitting on the decibel scale. His front paws extend in Beatrice’s direction. She gently scritches the top of his head, and that seems to calm him enough for Ava to get a better hold. 

“Do you want me to—” Beatrice says, when Vincent digs sharp claws into the bare skin of Ava’s forearm.

“Maybe you could—” 

They pause, the cat suspended between them, then Beatrice extends her arms and Vincent leaps straight into them, nuzzling into her chest. She gets the impression Ava might want to join, too.

“Maybe I can bring him to your apartment for you?"

"Would you? I feel horrible asking but he's—" Ava's mouth sours. "Yeah."

"I don't mind, promise." So what if she's a bit sad at the prospect of Ava leaving? It's not like Vince is gonna sneak into her apartment every single night. She can be sad. It means nothing. It's fine. "Lead the way?"

"Okay, but we have to go the long way round." Ava nods at the door to the bedroom and Beatrice's heart skips several beats. "I don't have my keys."

Oh.

God.

[avalentina]

Bookstore Owner Y/N x Christian Pulisic Preview

Warnings: Multi-Lingual (Some Italian mixed in, I will translate most of it), otherwise none as of yet, this is just super cute and fluffy so far, the reader is half American half Italian but grew up in Italy.

892 Words

I’m grabbing another box of reshelves when the little chime above the door of Rose’s Books dings. My grandmother used to call me her little rose and it was her who fueled my love of books. When I get out from the storeroom, a young guy about my age is wandering around looking at everything. He looks like he just finished an early evening run. His short hair has these adorable natural curls to it and when his amazing brown eyes meet mine, the box slips from my hands and thumps to the floor, landing on my foot.

“Merda, ouch.” I yelp as he rushes over with a shy smile on his face and grabs the box. Easily hoisting it onto the nearby counter.

“Is your foot okay?” He asks with an American accent and my stomach erupts in butterflies.

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Bruised toes tend to happen when you own a bookstore.”

“Oh, you own this place? It’s cozy, I like it.” He says, that shy smile back

“Thank you.”

“I take it you’re Rose?” He asks.

“Well technically my name is Y/N, rose is a nickname from my best childhood memories, so it seemed fitting. But anyways, did you just come in to browse or are you in need of a specific title?” I ask, shaking myself out of the daze and back into sales mode.

“I was hoping you had a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone. I lost mine.” He says sheepishly.

“I don’t have The Sorcerer’s Stone, but I do have The Philosopher’s Stone.” I say with a knowing smile.

“I keep forgetting it has a different name in America.” He says and we fill the short walk over to its shelf with talk about Potter. I hand him the book and our fingers brush as he takes it from me.

“All set then, or do you need some time to browse?” I ask, hoping he opts for the latter option.

“I think I will take a peek around if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” I nod. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’m a firm believer that a good book is always better with a comforting drink.” I’ve got a little setup of some espresso, tea options, water, lemonade, and my favorite apple cider behind the register station.

“Maybe just a small lemonade.” He says and I grab him one before going back to my shelving. As I go around the shop reshelving I feel the weight of his eyes on me from time to time and can’t help but take quick glances over at him as well. He’s just so pretty to look at.

I hear the door chime again, as my best friends and business partners Livia and Nico come in to help me close up the shop. Nico grabs his first box and starts reshelving before setting it aside and rushing back over.

“Y/N why is Christian Pulisic in the shop right now?” He asks me and I guess he’s referring to the cute guy with brown eyes.

“He needed a new copy of Philosopher’s Stone. What’s wrong with that?”

“He's Christian Pulisic, one of the new signings for AC Milan.

“So he’s a footballer?” I ask.

“One of the BEST footballers ever. I bought his jersey to wear to games as soon as the transfer was finalized.”

“Okay Nico, breathe, he’s also a normal human being. Why don’t you do the reshelves in the kids section and I’ll finish your area.”

“Would it be a bad time for me to get his autograph?”

“Of course not, happy to chat with a fan.” The guy who I guess is kind of a big deal says to Nico with a genuine smile and extends his hand so Nico can shake it.

“Ciao. È un piacere conoscerti di persona. Sei incredibile. Adoro quando fai scivolare la palla tra le gambe di un altro giocatore, penso che tu la chiami nutmeg, comunque è così bello.”

“I'm going to be honest. I have no idea what you just said. I recognized nutmeg but that's about it.

“Not to worry Christian, I can translate Nico for you. He said, Hello. It’s nice to meet you in person. You’re amazing. I love it when you slip the ball through another player’s legs, I think you call it a nutmeg, anyway it's so cool.” I say. “Nico just has a tendency to get all of his rushed thoughts and ramblings out in Italian. It's a lot easier.”

“That makes sense. Maybe all I need is an Italian tutor.” He says, looking at me with that shy smile.

“Oooh, Y/N would be amazing at that. After all, she is half American.” Livia chimes in, having finished her round of reshelves.

Christian raises an eyebrow and my face flushes as I explain. “My father was on vacation in Florence when he met my mother who was on holiday there with her friends.”

“Her parents are the best Italian love story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl enjoy classic Italian food, boy up and moves to Italy to be with girl.” Livia adds and I bury my face in my hands.

“That's actually adorable.” Christian says. “So what do you say? Will you help me learn Italian?”

[graneymar]

#5.2 NEYMAR JR: ONE NIGHT IN IBIZA (Part 1)

SUMMARY: You and Neymar are back from vacation, finally facing different sides of having a public relationship.

WARNINGS: none actually, some fluff with a minimum of angst and the smallest minimum of smut (literally just one dirty sentence)

PAIRING: Neymar x fem!reader

After spending our last few days in Ibiza, I decided I would stay with Neymar in Paris for another week before I had to leave for my studies.

We arrived only a few hours ago and spent the rest of the day cuddling up in his bed, watching movies and our favorite shows. My phone lit up - an Instagram notification about Neymar tagging me in his story. I smiled at him and shortly pecked his cheek. Since the public found out about us, he wouldn’t go a day without tagging or posting me - he literally mentioned me whenever and wherever he could. "How do you feel about being in the public now?", he asked and took his eyes off of the tv to glance at me. I shrugged, "It's been okay so far I guess. I'm just really hoping I will not get treated differently in university now. And I hope your fangirls will not overcrowd my office once I'm finished." He chuckled before kissing my hand he was holding in his. Those hazel eyes that always looked at me in love and admiration suddenly darkened. Oh, I knew what he had in mind. "Ney, I'm too tired today", I exclaimed laughing while he didn’t seem to care as he climbed on top of me. "Can’t wait to fuck you in your own office, Ms. Lawyer", he smirked before the two of us shared a long, passionate kiss that quickly led to another fun activity.

The next morning I woke up to see Neymar wasn’t in bed anymore. It wasn’t anything new, he always got up earlier than me. When I heard his annoyed groans and cursing though, I got a little worried. Slowly opening the bedroom door, I tiptoed my way into the living room, where I found Neymar talking on his phone. "Yeah okay, whatever. I'll be there tomorrow", he sighed out before hanging up and looking straight at me. "I have to play Saturday, training starts tomorrow." I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Why? All you asked for was another week off? I'm leaving Sunday", the disappointment in my voice was clearly audible. "I know baby, but Kylian's injured. I can’t leave those idiots hanging", Neymar explained. My lips formed a pout as I nodded. We planned to attend the match anyway, but we were supposed to be watching together instead of me watching him playing. "I'm sorry meu amor", he mumbled while cupping my face in his hands. "Está bem [it’s fine]", I replied, even though it really wasn’t. If it would be only him playing on Saturday I’d be less worried, but him training meant even less time we would be able to spend together. "Hey", he softly said stroking my cheek, "Don't be sad, please. Let’s have some breakfast, get ready and go out, hm?"

Our day went just as planned. Honestly, I've been excited and nervous about going out with Neymar since it would be the first time everyone would see as the couple we actually were, not just friends like we pretended to be before. To my surprise though, there were no paparazzi, barely even any fans interrupting our shopping tour - and most of the fans that came up to us simply wanted to take a picture with Neymar and greeted me nicely. So far, so good, I thought. Until we got out of the sushi restaurant and the paparazzi were already waiting outside. I gasped at the amount of cameras that were directed at me, my body twitched everytime another flashlight lit up. "Que merda [shit]", Neymar mumbled to himself and reached out for my hand. I instantly grabbed his,l while my other hand was busy covering my face. As he started walking through the crowd to get to his car, he squeezed my hand a little tighter. One of the paparazzi shoved his camera right into my face. "Step away from her please", Neymar politely yet demanding said - ignorance being the only response. That one paparazzi got even closer to me, almost tearing apart Neymars and my intertwined hands. He started asking questions like how we both met; why Neymar would be dating me in the first place and finally, if I had serious intentions with Neymar or if it was just money, fame and attention that I was after. That was enough for Neymar to lose his shit. He pushed the camera away from me, making it hit the paparazzi right into his face. "I said step away from her! Filho da puta [son of a bitch]", he shouted out through gritted teeth, pulling me closer to him. As soon as we approached his car, he quickly opened the passenger door for me, slightly pushing me in to avoid anyone else getting closer to me than they were supposed to. Taking a few deep breaths I started calming down a little, instinctively grabbing Neymars hand as soon as he dropped himself next to me. "How did they even know where we're at?", I asked, my voice still a little shaky. Neymar stroked my hand with his thumb while checking his phone. "Oh fuck", he mumbled and turned his phone in my direction, "I thought I saved it as a draft but I must’ve accidentally posted it. I'm so sorry babe." How clever, a photo of our food and the damn location. I tried to keep my angry facial expression while staring at him, but finally bursted out into laughter. He looked at me, relieved but confused. "Why are you laughing? I thought you’d be mad at me."

"I am, actually", I raised my brows at him, "but that’s so typically Neymar. This is something that can only happen to you and no one else, honestly." He shrugged, his lips pressed into a thin line, looking at me with puppy eyes before finally giving me a short kiss and starting the car.

The next few days went by quite ordinary. While Neymar was at training, I tried to distract myself by cleaning the apartment, cooking or simply taking a walk outside. When the day of his match arrived though, the anxiety broke through me again. "Baby, don’t worry! Guilherme and Gil will be with you. I got you seats far from the fans", Neymar reassured me as he tried to calm me down. God, if he only knew I wasn’t scared of the fans but the media talking shit about me again. When the paparazzi caught us back in Ibiza, I instantly got compared to Neymars ex girlfriends, saying I looked nothing like them, talking badly about my appearance, my body, even how I wasn’t photogenic. I truly didn’t care about what they said about how I looked. I was confident enough to ignore it and as long as Neymar viewed me the way he did, I couldn’t care less about how others saw me. When the media started talking trash about our relationship, saying I was just enjoying the luxurious lifestyle Neymar brought to my life and I apparently was only interested in his money, fame and attention though - that actually hurt me. It was hard enough for Neymar to open up after so many people took advantage of him, building up his trust in me was an entire process. I was afraid they would come up with some story that would make him doubt my love for him or even overthink our relationship. But I refused to tell him about what was actually bothering me. I didn’t want to make a scene before anything even happened.

"I have to go now", Neymar finally said, quickly kissing my cheek, "I'll see you there. Gil calls you once he’s here to pick you up!"

The first half of the match went pretty calm, no goals and not too many fouls. I was just happy I didn’t really get noticed by anyone. Only ten minutes into the second half, Neymar scored the first goal for PSG. Guilherme, Gil and I got up from our seats, clapping and cheering. That was when Neymar jogged up to our side of the field and blowed me a kiss with a wide smile on his face. I felt my cheeks blushing as all heads in the crowd turned in my direction. Gil noticed how uncomfortable I gor and decided to distract the crowd by blowing a kiss back to Ney, screaming out "Oh my God, I love you Neymar" in a high pitched voice, acting like a fangirl. I started laughing and sat down again. "That’s Neymars girlfriend, she’s so pretty", a girl a few rows in front of me said. I smiled at her widely as her boyfriend turned around to look at me. "Bruna is prettier", he simply stated. I tilted my head, my smile widened in a provocative way and I waved at him before showing him my middle finger. Guilherme started laughing while Gilmar almost choked on his drink. "Y/N, you can’t do that", he said, "Your Neymar Jrs girlfriend! Adding to that, you’ll be a lawyer soon." I shrugged my shoulders and continued to watch the match. "And what about it? Aren’t lawyers allowed to fight and defend themselves outside of the court?" Guilherme held his hand up for a high five that I returned.

The match ended, PSG won 2-0. The boys and I were waiting for Neymar outside the stadium. "Hey babe", Neymar greeted me and kissed my cheek, Marco following closely behind him. "So you wanna come over to my place and celebrate the win?", Marco asked after politely nodding at me. Neymars facial expression turned from happy into sad as he heavily breathed out. "I can’t", he responded, wrapping one arm around my shoulder, "Y/N leaves tomorrow." Marcos nod told us he was absolutely understanding. "It’s sucks you're already leaving, but it was a pleasure to see you again", he grinned and hugged me before we said our goodbyes and got into our cars.

At the airport, I hid my face in Neymars chest, refusing to let him go as the tears continued to stream down my face. By the way his body slightly flinched from time to time, I knew he was close to tears as well. "Calm down meu anjo, I promise I'll do everything I can to visit you as soon as possible", he whispered, stroking the back of my head and kissing my forehead. I looked up at him and saw a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I love you so much", I sobbed, hugging him even tighter than before, "I really can’t do this anymore. I can’t be this far away from you all the time." Neymar pulled away a bit, only so much that we were face to face. "I'll be there soon, I promise you Y/N. Please keep on focusing on your studies. No matter what happens, I'm right here waiting for you - or waiting for you to call me over. I love you." The last call for my flight. I grabbed my suitcase and fell right into his arms for the ultimate time. "I love you", I repeated again and again until I finally walked away from him slowly, not able to take my eyes off of him.

[itsohh]

Missing Part 3

A/N: Female reader, I’ve had this needing to be edited for like so long.

Summary: Gustave and Taina finally reunite with you but it doesn't go exactly the way they had hoped.

Word count: 1839 

Warnings: Canon typical violence

AO3 Part 1 Part 2

Taina wasn't lying when she said she could cut that time in half. If Gustave hadn't spent the last three years getting used to your driving he would have been clinging on to dear life. Speed limits were suggestions and by god was she ignoring them. Halfway there, Gustave had an alert on his phone pop up. It had only taken about twenty minutes for Miles to get them the files he had requested. "It's the human trafficking case."

"Anything stick out?" Tania asked over her shoulder before turning down the music just a tad. Gustave continued to scan the work.

"It seemed almost everyone got locked away, a lot of them didn't get out away on the human trafficking charges but meth manufacturing charges."

"How long were they put away for?" Gustave paused as he looked after about seven different names.

"Eight years."

"Shit which means it could be them, but how did they find out about her being in America? I can't imagine it's very popular information." The car sped up considerably as they cleared a corner onto a long empty road.

"John Mathewwaters," Gustave mumbled under his breath, his face scrunching up as he continued to read the rest of the file. "He's the credited man in charge of all of this but he only stayed in prison for two years despite being sentenced to forty."

"Porra." Taina cursed out. Someone like that would definitely have the resources and information to be able to track you down.

"Surely he would have done so earlier? If I'm reading this correctly she's only referred to as The Asset. They seem to have gone to considerable lengths to protect her identity. Unless you already knew who she was I can't imagine knowing anything from this."

A location on Gustave's phone popped up, an intersection. Taina glanced over to it for a moment, ten minutes away.

Keeping you at red lights as long as possible.

A text from Meghan popped up and silently the pair of them thanked her.

"You said you have been to America with her before?"

"A few times, we spent a holiday here, a road trip driving over the country."

"And never did anyone approach or attack you?"

"Never. I would have brought it up if someone had." The pair of them went silent after that, Taina didn't have any more questions at that moment.

Taina drove ever faster, yet careful not to be reckless. "K spotted." Gustave's eyes flashed up to the windscreen to see your car. With their tinted windows, there was no way for you to know it was them. Now they had to decide on their exact course of action. They had the opinion of trying to stop your or waiting until you next stopped, tailing you. The mental debate that Gustave had started was answered by Taina when she slowed down, putting a decent distance between the pair of you. Just far enough not to be too suspicious but close enough to keep an eye on you.

The Corolla in front of them mocked Gustave. So close yet so far away, so many questions unanswered. How would you react when you saw them? Anger? Would you avoid them? Happiness? Would you see them as support? Guilt? Had you betrayed Rainbow and everything you had stood for? The questions gnawed at Gustave's core. He needed to know.

The white car moved forward through the intersection, the light had been continuously green yet as he watched your car move he couldn't help but see everything in slow motion. His eyes flickered to the side, the black Jeep didn't stop at the right light as it ploughed forward. You didn't have time to move, not that it would have mattered, the Jeep would have corrected any course changes you had made. There was a hard crunch as it smashed into the back of your car.

"Merda!" Taina slammed on the brakes as she watched the scene in front of them unfold. Your car spun to the side as the Jeep continued forward, this was no accident, that much was obvious. It continued to push your small white car forward. All cars around came to a stop, rubbernecking at the incident. So when another Jeep came barreling in the opposite direction it was obvious that there was a purpose. On the other side of the road and seconds ticked by as it swerved into the line of the white car. A sickening crunch that had Gustave's chest drop filled the air. If you had been in an American car, it would have been game over. Saved only by the fact that you were on the right side of the car rather than the left.

Time sped up again as the Jeeps stopped their movements and a group of men piled out of the Jeeps. Guns. That was the first thing Taina's trained eyes went to. The automatic weapons were strapped to their chests with no identification at all. They weren't any type of government. Gustave and Taina moved at the same time. The sound of their doors clicked open together. Gustave found his way to the back seat where it held their vests while Taina went to the trunk for their weapons. With the way the enemy was packing, they would need it. These guys weren't amateurs.

There wasn't any focus on Taina or Gustave as they set up, all focus on your car while any civilians fled the scene, some peering out from the safety of shop windows. In the middle of the intersection, they set up a circle around your crunched car. Gustave set up his MP5 behind their car. The ACOG sight gave him the needed zoom for him to line up but at their angle, he couldn't get a glimpse of you, and neither could Taina. The M12 in her hands weighed as they waited for the enemy to move. Both Taina and Gustave knew that once they had identified themselves as part of the fight, there was no going back.

Slowly two men approached your door. One held onto the handle while the other aimed his gun up. With a nod, a swift motion came as he yanked the door open. Two shots ran out through the air. The man in front of the door went flying through that air and slammed down onto the ground. The man who had opened the door had his head flick back, a line of blood splattered into the air and his body smashed back into the asphalt- motionless. Both Taina and Gustave knew that sound rather well, the familiar sound of your unsuppressed shotgun. Which meant you were very much still alive and kicking.

Everyone jumped into action as the man ran towards the now open door in urgency. The two Rainbow operatives worked together in unison, their guns roaring to life as they started to take them down. "I'm going in closer." Taina yelled over the gunfire right as Gustave found his mark in one of the man's head.

"Covering you!" Without coms, it would be harder for them to communicate when separated but they could manage. Taina stuck to the shadows of the cars, both you and Gustave drawing attention while she kept up on the men- her pistol being put to good use keeping her location a secret.

As she neared your vehicle she could hear the telltale sound of your pistol, using it where your shotgun didn't have the range. The battlefield went quiet all of a sudden. Gustave couldn't spot any more enemies and neither could you. Ever so slowly you dragged yourself out of the crumpled car, pistol in your hand while the shotgun was now strapped to your back. "K." Taina purposely gave away her position as she rounded the corner to not startle you. Yet you moved without hesitation, your pistol raised and firing at her. "Stand down! Hold your fire." She hissed out, ducking back around the corner.

"Piss off lady!" Your voice called out, it was choked, tired and coarse. Her head tilted slightly as she listened for your steps, the limp in your legs obvious as you slightly dragged your leg. Just as you rounded the corner, shogun in hand she grabbed it, forcing it to the sky while it went off. Muscle memory ruled your body as your elbowed her face but in the process lost your gun which was tossed to the side. Taina's fists caught your face and you tucked down punching down into her lower torso. A few grunts left her lips but she used your lowered form to her advantage. Hiking up on the car she gained height and swung a leg around your throat.

She didn't want to knock you out but for the sake of her own safety, she would. The clawing of your nails against her pants made little purchase as you gasped out, her body leaning on the car for support. In a second of desperation and clarity, your hand raised ever higher and subconsciously found the knife attached to her leg. In one swift movement, you yanked it out and sliced it against the leg around your throat.

Blood trickled down her leg and you slammed the knife into her thigh causing her grip to loosen. "Filho da puta!" Taina swore as pain screamed throughout her body, the wetness of the slice covering her leg and your chest before you ducked down to escape. But the shadow of someone stopped you.

"Stop." With hardened eyes, the revolver aimed at your head. He didn't want to pull the trigger, he wasn't sure if he could do it but his training overrode that screaming inside of his chest. His focus was protecting Taina at the moment, not whatever conflicting feelings he had about you.

"Fuck." You groaned out and slumped against one of the Jeeps. "Go on then, get it over and done with then huh." You egged him on. "That's what you're here for huh? Just don't miss. I don't think your sweetheart over there is looking too hot." Your head gestured to Taina who started to lean against the car in an attempt to prevent the blood from coming from her wound. She was smart enough to know not to pull the knife from her leg despite the pain it caused her.

His brief flicker of eyes to Taina was at it took, so used to listening to your voice, your callouts, he did it subconsciously. That one second was all your needed. The fire of your pistol forced Gustave to fall to the side for cover. As your rose from the ground, your eyes were on Gustave as-

SMACK!

The butt of Taina's pistol collided with your head and you fell towards the ground, one of her arms reached out to grab you in the process. "Clear." Her voice groaned out and Gustave came back into view. The pair of them shared an expression, both trying to process what just happened.

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Long distance love birds, Stasi and King move in together after graduating college. Cue the ‘let’s christen this place’ jokes, but Kingsley has something a bit more heartfelt in mind.

🤎 Anastasia James: 21, travel blogger

🤎 Kingsley Mancini: 22, photographer

🤎 CW/TW: fluff, lesbians being lesbians, proposal, kissing, pet names, consensual groping, suggestive comments, hickeys, domestic activities, alcohol, swearing, romantic stuff, Italian and Spanish (translations provided), nsfwish, slight angst (only in the beginning for the most part), no google translate, proofread (but not really i need to be sleep rn)

🤎 A/N: Another piece for my love @certainlynotasimp enjoy sugarplum 🫶🏽 (reminder, requests for my tag list are open as well as in general) I was lazy and didn't feel like writing a description for the garden, nor the rings so...deal with it I guess. Enjoy !!

🤎 Notes:

Kingsley was raised by Afro Italian (Mumi) and Afro Spanish (Ma’) mothers so she grew up speaking both Spanish and Italian (born in Italy) 🇮🇹🇪🇸

Anastasia was raised by Afro Dominican parents and grew up speaking Spanish (born in London) 🇩🇴

Kingsley’s contact name for Anastasia is Italian and it means ‘my brown sugar honey’ 🥺

Anastasia is contact name for Kingsley is Spanish and it means ‘my cinnamon apple baby’ 🤎

🤎 Translations: (all translations were checked with the help of deepl translate)

Ma’, pensi davvero che dovrei farlo?- Mom, do you really think I should do this?

Guardami- Look at me

Bimbi- nickname meaning little one

Mumi- nickname meaning Mom

Mi nenita, toda crecida- My little girl, all grown up

Ti amo sempre di più piccola amore- I love you more and more, baby love

No más que yo- Not more than me

Cicchi- nickname meaning chocolate

Bichita- nickname meaning little bug

Merda- shit

Scusi? Non è così che parli davanti a tua madre- I beg your pardon? (Lit. Excuse me) That’s not how you speak in front of your mother

Mi dispiace, mamma- I’m sorry, mom

Cara mia- my dear

Mamme- moms

Buona fortuna- good luck

Buona serata- have a good evening

Ora- now

Madrine- godmothers

Sei proprio un romcompiglioni, Valé- You really are a pain in the ass, Valé

Picci- nickname meaning little or small one

Puttana- bitch

¡Ay Dios mío!- oh Lord or oh God

Paella- Spanish rice dish

Ricotta gnudi- Italian dumplings

È perfetto- it's perfect

Mis favoritos- my favorites

Muevete, por favor. Déjame ir para que podamos ir a casa, mi amor- move, please. Let me go so we can go home, my love

Darmi un bacio- give me a kiss

Su con la vita, amore mio. Ti darò tutti i baci che vuoi dopo cena- Cheer up, my love. I'll give you all the kisses you want after dinner

🤎 Word count: 3.6k

18 June 2017

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Kingsley

To say I was scared shitless that day was an understatement. I had no idea how she’d respond. Even though we were moving into a house together and had been together for 3 and a half years, I don’t think my anxiety has ever been worse. But I was in love. I still am in love. And I’m going to marry the love of my life.

I played with the ring, looking to my mother in question, “Ma’, pensi davvero che dovrei farlo? I mean…what if she thinks it’s too soon?”

She regarded me for a moment before she spoke, placing her hand over mine to stop me from fidgeting with the ring, “Guardami. I can’t tell you how she’ll respond, bimbi. Have you two ever discussed the idea of marriage?”

“I mean, yeah, we have. And we agreed we wanted to get married before we made it to 5 years together, but like…at first I figured with the house it’d be cute to propose to her now that we’re finally moving into it, but what if……what if it’s too much all at once?”

“Then I’m sure you guys will figure it out. Not being ready for marriage is nothing to break up over, I tell you that.”

“Were you and Mumi ready back then?”

My mumi poked her head in from the kitchen with a smile that ma’ shared, “I wasn’t. It was a different time back then, though. It was hard enough that we hadn’t come out our families yet. The thought of coming out and announcing an engagement? I was terrified.”

Ma kissed her cheek as she sat down next to her, “She helped me reevaluate my reason for wanting to marry right then in the first place. I thought that if we were married when we came out it would legitimize our relationship a little more in their eyes. Sure, I loved her, and yes I truly wanted to marry her it just wasn’t for the right reasons right then. In the end we just agreed that we’d wait to plan the wedding until we were both ready, and in the meantime, we’d grown even closer for it.”

“Very cute, you two but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Mumi reached across the table to rub my arm, “Well, why do you want to marry her, Mimi?”

The thought of my girlfriend was usually enough to turn me into a blushing and flustered mess, but sitting in front of my mothers, all I could do was gush about her and this time was no different.

I beamed as I took Mumi’s hand, “Because in all my years, though few they might be, I have never found anyone who sees me the way she does. Anastasia is the muse I had been in search for when I switched my studies abroad. She’s- she’s my everything, simply put. I love her with my entire being. And I want to marry her because she’s someone I don’t think I can live the rest of my life without.”

They shared a look as they both teared up, Ma rubbing Mumi’s shoulder, “Mi nenita, toda crecida.”

My phone lit up with her contact name on it and I held up a hand as I turned my chair around to check the message:

“Looks like someone just got a text from their girlfriend. Feeling better, Mimi?”

I nodded as I looked over my lock screen, “Sure did. Her flight is taking off soon. Which means I have 2 and a half hours to get my life together. Whew, okay……I’m doing this. I’m about to propose to my girlfriend. Merda-“

“Scusi? Non è così che parli davanti a tua madre,” Ma scolded me.

I rubbed the back of my neck, sheepish and apologetic, “Mi dispiace, mamma.”

“Cara mia, go easy on her. She’s stressing out right now,” Mumi defended, tossing me a wink.

I held back my smile as I spoke, “I am sorry, though. Should I…I don’t know, decorate the house a little bit? You know, candles, flowers? Maybe some balloons?”

“Did you show her the garden when you guys bought the place?”

“No, I wanted it to be…a surprise for when we moved in,” I finished, getting excited. I hopped from my seat, sticking the ring in my pocket as I rushed to my mothers, wrapping my arms around their shoulders and kissing both their cheeks, “Mwah, I love you both so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, mamme. I’ll tell you how it goes tomorrow, I promise.”

“Be safe, bimbi.”

“Buona fortuna, Mimi.”

“Buona serata,” I called as I headed out the front door.

I all but sped off to the house, instantly palming my forehead at the sight of the mover’s truck parked at the end of the driveway, my best friend guiding the workers.

“Kingsley Allegra Vittoria Mancini. Get your ass over here and help! Ora!”

I bit my lip as I grabbed a box of Stasi’s things from the truck, “Wow, Valé. Happy to see you too.”

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t see me before you left to go stress out my madrine. Has the flight left yet?”

“Yeah, Bubbles text me like 30 minutes ago to let me know that they were preparing for take off. Say, I need you to pick some things up for me actually.”

“No.”

I smacked as I set the box on the couch, “You don’t even know what I want nor what for yet.”

“I’ll do it for 500 bucks,” she offered.

“Sei proprio un romcompiglioni, Valé. I don’t have 500 bucks. You know that.”

“Cap.”

“Okay, maybe I do, but dammit, will you just hear me out?”

She folded her arms, quirking a brow at me as she tapped her foot, “Alright. And it better be good or I’m only dropping to 250.”

I pulled the keys from my pocket, holding them out for her to take, “Here.”

She frowned as she took them, “And just what the h-“ she cut off with a gasp as she noticed the ring, inspecting it, “Oh, babes….she’s gonna love it. You’re proposing?”

“Yeah, and I don’t have long. I need you to get some things for me to set up the garden for it. I’m gonna put it all together, but I need you to go get it while I put all these boxes up and out of the way with the movers.”

She rolled her eyes as she handed the keys back, grabbing her car keys from the ledge over the fireplace, “Send me a list. I’ll try to hurry. I know that flight isn’t long and you’ve gotta shower and pick her up as well.”

“That I do. Thanks, Valéncia.”

“Uh-oh. Mimi’s nervous. Talk to me.”

“Do you think I’m moving too fast?”

“It’s been almost 4 years, picci. You guys have bought a house together, and didn’t you both agree that one of you should propose before you guys make 5 years?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

She placed a hand on my shoulder, shutting me up, “No buts. You’ve got this, babes. Hurry with that list, stop stressing yourself or you’ll chicken out.”

I pushed her off of me, rolling my eyes playfully, "Oh, shut it you old bat. I’ll tell you and the mamme how it goes in the morning, okay?”

“Alright, hop to it, asshole.”

I helped the movers take all the boxes into one of the many empty rooms of the house, thanking them for the help before retreating to the guest bathroom to shower and freshen myself up.

My brain couldn’t help but wander as I pulled on my clothes, anxiety twisting in my stomach like a storm brewing on the horizon.

I had a horrifying cacophony of ‘what ifs’ and questions. What if she says no? What if it makes her change her mind about us moving in together? What if I stutter? What if I fall into the lake? What if something catches fire with the candles? What if she doesn’t even answer? What if I lose the ring?

What if she doesn’t like the ring? What if everything that could possibly go wrong does?

What if?

“Puttana! You better not be up there bitchin’ in your head.”

I rolled my eyes as I made my way downstairs, “You got my shit?”

“Of course! I also have some food. You need to eat.”

I shook my head as I took the bags from her hands like a madwoman, rushing toward the back door, “Can’t eat. I think I’ll be sick.”

“¡Ay Dios mío! Please eat for me, Kingsley. Madrina Morgana said you didn’t eat with them and you didn’t eat with me this morning. Just a bite at least.”

“What did you bring?”

She beamed, holding the Tupperware from Ma, “Paella from your Ma and Mumi made ricotta gnudi.”

“Give me a dumpling so I can go set this up and get to the airport for my baby. You can put the rest in the car.”

“Kingsley.”

“Yes?”

“One more thing before I go?”

“What is it,” I asked impatiently as I turned back to her.

She rolled her eyes as she handed me a velvet box, grumbling, “Here, witcha angry ass.”

“Girl what the f-“

My voice died on my tongue as she turned to head out the front door with a smirk, “Mumi owes me 20 bucks.”

I whispered as I looked on at the ring, smiling, “È perfetto.”

Anastasia

Actual heart stop that day. Speechless isn’t even the word. I forgot what words even were. Yet here I am. Engaged to the love of my life.

I laughed softly to myself as my notifications started coming in:

I poked my lip out as she picked up the call, “You know how I feel about surprises, Mimi. Tell me~”

“No, Bubbles. You just have to wait and see. Besides, you said yourself that you like surprises that include blindfolds,” she mumbled, smirk evident in her tone.

I fought back a smile of my own, squeezing my legs together as I watched the carousel of luggage for my suitcase, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t…but I still wanna know what you’re planning. What if I had something planned and your surprise interferes with it?”

“Well, do you have something planned,” she chimed as I made my way down the escalator. She pulled me into her arms the second I was close enough in reach as I hung up, placing my phone into my pocket.

“I mean, nothing too big, but….yeah I had a lil something-something planned,” I admitted, nibbling on my thumbnail as I thought about the package I’d asked Valé to slip into the house.

“I mean we still have time before it gets dark enough outside to do what I want,” she whispered against my skin as she pressed soft kisses along my jaw and cheek.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I squirmed in her arms, “Alright, alright! You got your one kiss, now muevete, por favor. Déjame ir para que podamos ir a casa, mi amor. I think we’ve given enough of a show in this lobby.”

She relented, letting go of me after one more kiss to my lips, “Alright, alright. I guess the longer we stand here the less time we have to lay up together.”

I prodded her with my elbow as she grabbed the handles for my suitcase and carry-on while I picked up the poster board, “Hey, at least you know.”

I studied the poster she had made as she dragged my luggage alongside her, poking my bottom lip out, “You know what, I might just let you have some tonight. I mean, you made me a proper poster this time around and everything.”

She scoffed at the accusation, “What do you mean “this time around”? My posters are always proper.”

“Yeah, proper jokes. Last time you picked me up after a flight the poster was welcoming me home from rehab. And the time before that it was prison,” I exclaimed.

“I stand by those. They were hilarious,” she shrugged, opening the trunk.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s ride.”

45 minutes later…

After a car ride full of Kingsley rubbing on my thigh like she’d never have a chance to hold it again, I was playing in her hair as she lay on my chest between my legs, kissing my chin.

I smiled, tilting my head down for our lips to meet, “Mm, should I get dressed up for this little dinner you’ve got planned?”

“Just a little bit. You know I know you look good in anything, but you’re gonna wanna be at least a little dressed up for this,” she mumbled before leaning into my kiss.

Kissing her always felt like everything, everywhere, all at once. Every place where our bodies met my skin blazed with heat, all sprouting from the pit of my belly. I could feel her smile against my lips as she moved higher over me, tongue lavishing mine before she sucked on it, coaxing a moan from my throat.

Breathless, I took two handfuls of her shirt as she pulled away slightly, forehead rested against mine, “Well damn, Kingsley. Tell me something good then.”

She chuckled, pressing soft kisses against my lips in between her words, “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“Mm, I think I’ve got a pretty good one. I mean you haven’t stopped touching nor kissing me since I got here. I don’t mind though.”

Soft brushes with her lips turned hungry as hot, open-mouthed kisses scathed their way down my jaw, her mouth latching onto a pulse point as she sucked softly. I sucked air in through my teeth, a whimper escaping me as her teeth nibbled on the area, “Fuck…”

She let go, kissing the new bruise, “You alright up there?”

I huffed, caressing her cheek with my thumb, “Yeah, I’m okay. Darmi un bacio?”

She moved as if to oblige, lips ghosting over mine before she sat back, rubbing my thighs, “Later. Go get dressed, Bubbles.”

I pouted, folding my arms across my chest, whining, “Hey! You’ve been kissing me all this time, but now that I asked for one it’s a no? Meanie.”

She kissed my cheek quite audibly before pecking my bottom lip, “Su con la vita, amore mio. Ti darò tutti i baci che vuoi dopo cena.”

“Hmph,” I frowned harder, turning my face away from her.

“Stasi-“ she called in a sing song, pulling me into her with her arms around my waist, “The quicker you get ready, the sooner we can kiss.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning into her kiss on my cheek, “Fine. You’ve gotta look cute too, then. And dibs on upstairs. You’ve gotta get ready down here.”

“Whatever~” she rolled her eyes, pushing me up, “Get to it.”

I waited for her to take her clothes downstairs before locking the door, hopping on the sink counter, “Hello?”

“Stasi! How are you, love?”

“Doing quite alright, Ma. I had a question.”

“Yes?”

I nibbled my lip as I looked under the sink for the package, “Could you put me on speaker, actually? So Mumi could hear me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Cara mia, Anastasia’s on the phone!”

“Ah, darling! How are you?”

I chuckled, “Well, I was hoping to ask you guys for something.”

“Anything,” they answered in unison before laughing together.

“So, you guys know that Kingsley and I have been together for almost 4 years now, and obviously we’re moving in together finally, but I was wondering if maybe-“

“Yes.”

“What?”

Ma giggled as Mumi responded, “Go ahead and ask her. I’m sure you guys will be great.”

My face flushed as I put the velvet bag on the counter, “Thanks guys. It means more than you know.”

“Oh trust us, we know. Go on, you have business to attend to,” Ma chimed.

It didn’t take me long to get ready. At least, I didn’t think it did until a knock sounded on the door, “Baby? I forgot you take forever and a day to get ready. Are you almost done?”

“Not even close,” I joked, putting on my lipgloss.

She groaned, “Ugh, I got myself into this.”

I opened the door, her jaw dropping as I did, “I’m just joking, my love. You ready?” She just eyed me appreciatively, mouth still agape. I closed it, smirking, “Don’t act like you’ve never seen me dressed up before. Come on, you have a surprise for me, don’t you?”

She cleared her throat, scratching her neck sheepishly, “Yeah um…right, right. C’mon, follow me, Bubs.”

I laced my fingers with hers, following her downstairs to the living room. As we reached the couch, she grabbed a strip of silk from the back of the couch, “Alright, time for my favorite part.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, yeah, get it over with, will you?”

She moved with the utmost delicacy and care, sweeping my hair behind my shoulders as she pulled the fabric over my eyes, securing it at the back of my head. She spoke softly in my ear, always with a flair for the dramatic, “Do you trust me?”

“With all of my being,” I whispered, a thrill running through my spine as she placed a kiss to the area behind my ear.

Her hand returned to mine and I followed quite blindly behind her as she led me through an unfamiliar feeling area and I tightened my hold on her hand, causing her to stroke her thumb over my knuckles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. It won’t take long at all, I promise.”

I felt her stop in front of me, taking my other hand into hers, “Okay so, before I untie your blindfold, I just want you to know that I promise I hid this place from you on purpose.”

“Will you just take this damned thing off of me?”

She reached around my head, untying the fabric, “Ready?”

Fighting the urge to reach up and snatch the blindfold off, I nodded, “Yes.” She pulled it away, my eyes taking a moment to focus on her before shifting to the scene behind her as I gasped, “What is that?”

She snickered, “It’s a garden, duh.”

And what a beautiful garden it was.

She led me closer to it, as I smiled, “Help- the fireflies?”

She grinned sheepishly, “I had nothing to do with that, but lucky us, I guess?”

I studied her shifty demeanor, noting how nervous she seemed, “Okay, what’s up with all this? What are you doing?”

She rolled her eyes, kissing the back of my knuckles, “You’re so impatient all the time, oh my God. Okay, okay…whew……I can do this.”

“Hey, eyes on me, loser. Breathe first,” I instructed.

She scrunched her nose in distaste, “Shut it. I’m getting to it, I swear. So, I know we’ve been together for 3 years, 9 months, and 13 days-“

“And why do you know that off the top of your head,” I questioned, half-shocked and half-enamored.

“Details, unimportant,” she responded, waving a hand as she continued, “Seeing that we’ve been together for almost 4 years now and are finally moving in together, I was nervous as hell, but I ultimately decided I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. With that being said,” she began, moving to get on her knee as she reached in her pocket.

I stopped her, shaking my head with a hand on her shoulder, “Wait, come here.”

She looked at me confused as she stood, hand still poised at her pocket, “Yeah?”

I reached for my own pocket with one hand, prompting her to continue with my other, “Nothing, go ahead.”

Things clicked as she pulled out a velvet box at the same time I pulled out a velvet bag and she palmed her forehead, chuckling softly, “God, and here I was worried that you’d have said no.”

I smiled, teasing, “Awww, you were stressing over little ole me? For the record not only am I saying yes, but it’s a hell yes times a bajillion.”

She took my free hand in hers, bringing it to her lips, “Well, I know that now, but can I ask properly? I did in fact have a proper speech in mind.”

“Who am I to deny you such a sweet request?”

She returned to her knee, stroking her thumb over my knuckles as she took a deep breath, looking up at me, “As I said earlier, I was nervous as hell, I spent the majority of the morning pulling out my hair back home about any and every worry under the sun, but talking to my moms reminded me why I want to ask you in the first place. I first switched to studying abroad in search of a greater muse than what I could find here in Italy. Luck would only have it that I ended up with you as my guide around London. You’ve been my inspiration, my best friend-don’t tell Valé I said that-my lover, and I want nothing more than to live the rest of my life with you by my side. With that all being said, yes I forgot half of what I wanted to say the second I saw you, I love you and it would do me a wonderful honor if you would marry me.”

I poked my lip out, “I would love to marry you, bichita. On one condition.”

“Yes,” she questioned, eyes still looking up at me full of love and hope.

I tugged her from her knee once more as I pulled out my mother’s engagement ring, “You have to agree to marry me as well.”

She smiled, eyes watering a bit as she opened the velvet box in her hand, revealing a ring I recognized all too well, “I do. Trust me, if nothing else, I will marry you, and start a family, and take care of you.”

I poked my lip out, chuckling through my tears, “Kingsley….is that…is that the ring from when your Ma proposed to Mumi?”

She nodded, “I had went and gotten a ring made for you but Mumi sent it over here by Valé earlier. So? You’re definitely saying 'yes' right now, right?”

I nodded as she took my hand, “Yes, baby. I’ll marry you.”

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

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@certainlmarseilleotasimp @trafalgardvivi

[gnongman]

OneShot: Lil’ body, Big dreams, Bigger self doubt

In the bustling streets of Brazil, a young lady walks out of the mall carrying a bag filled with groceries. There is a light skip in her steps and her sandals click against the ground as she does so. The band aid on her leg is almost coming off but that's something she can fix later, she thinks to herself. She's walking to the parking lot when she sees a small kid getting bullied by 2 teenagers.

“Please, I don’t have any more money!” the kid cried out as the taller lads were intimidating him by size.

“Oh really? Then we’ll just take the stuff you have on you right now!”

"HEY!" the lady shouts alerting the thugs of her presence. They freeze for a moment before turning around. Upon laying their eyes on her however they start laughing.

"What's with this shortie?" The taller of the bunch asks, wiping a tear from his eye.

 She simply stares them off. "Let him go." She says.

They thugs at one another and starts howling in laughter again.

"Let him go she said!" One of them shouts, mocking her, and another inches closer.

"What are you? A wannabe hero? You already have a band-aid but it seems like you're itching to get more!"

“As a matter of fact, yes! I registered for an EVF examination a few days ago” she said, puffing up her chest up and smiling confidently

“Oh? Well that’s great, that means we can get rid of a hero before they even become one” the taller guy said, and both of them get into a fighting stance

Peixinha looks at them, eyes now open, still smiling but exuding an aura of confidence

“Well, you can try” as she gets into a capoeira stance

The shorter guy runs and throws a punch, but Peixinha ducks. Using her hand to stand, she kicked the guy hard in the stomach, causing him to be knocked back.

“D-damn you!” the tall lad charged in now, and he threw a punch only to be countered by… 

“What is this, you got an ability?” he says in confusion

What he saw is a holographic version of his hand clashing with his real hand, causing the strike to stop abruptly, and that’s when he sees the Lil lady's eyes glow, the right glows an X and the other II.  

The lass used this distraction to wind up a kick, with the same aura coating her foot like the hand a few seconds ago. Before the guy noticed it, he got uppercut by the powered-up kick with a loud ‘WHAM!’, knocking the guy off a bit from the ground, and back down.

She recovered, with a hand covering her left eye in pain, but she smiled, but then she turned around to see the other guy holding the kid, with a knife in one hand

‘Merda!’ the orange fishy fella curses in her mind

"SCREW YOU!!! Don't think no one will get away from here unscathed!"

‘nonononononononono’ panic invaded her mind at that moment, and her body seemingly froze as she could only watch.

Suddenly, a wave of air knocked the dude’s knife away. Everyone looked in the direction the wind is from and that’s when they saw a man with an unbelievably hot build, and a body that looks like a greek sculpture, but with modern fitness and not too much muscle, enough for him to be a daddy. His scars decorated his body like gravy on a 5-star steak, the hair that adorned his head is magnificent, it was smooth and almost silky. His pink tail, although most cannot pull a handsome look with it, he sure can cuz he’s him.

“There’s no way, you-r-re Sebastião, lenda da dança?!!”

“Correct, now please, leave the kid and my daughter alone won’t ya?”

“Let's run bro!” they quickly ran away from the scene

The kid after being let go immediately runs to the man with the lustrous hair that’s lust-invoking

“Thank you so much, I can’t believe I got saved by the legend himself!”

“Better believe it kiddo, what matters is are you hurt or did you lose anything to them?” he kneeled talking to the kid

The kid and Sebastião talked, meanwhile Peixinha is frowning and thought to herself

'I wasn't paying attention. That kid nearly got hurt… what if Papi wasn't there… I'm still not good enough.'

Her thoughts are interrupted by the kid walking up to her, to which she notices and looks away

“Thank you so much, miss! You looked so cool doing all those moves!” the kid said with a huge smile on his face

“O-oh, uh thanks!” she awkwardly smiled as she didn’t expect this to come out of his mouth. She’s still surprised as the kid walks away

“So kiddo, did ya kick ass this time around?” Her dad pats her back and her focus returned

“Kinda Papi, I got them and they didn’t even land one hit but as you did see…” she looks down at the ground sheepishly

Her head gets rubbed(patted) lovingly as they turned around to go to their vehicle

“Don’t sweat it, sweet orange of mine! There’ll be way more chances to succeed!” He laughs it off as they enter the car(Ford Troller T4). 

Later

They arrive home and move the groceries to the dojo/house, and as she puts the groceries on counter she ponders

‘I failed today, worse than last time even’ as she caressed the plaster on her cheek

She reminisces the earlier events and she can't help but feel perplexed. Suddenly, the kid's voice rings in her head once again.

‘Thank you so much, miss! You looked so cool doing all those moves!’

And she can't help but smile.

‘Thank you so much, miss! You looked so cool doing all those moves!’ after remembering that she smiled

‘How’d I forget, I’m doing this because I love saving people’ she nods to herself as she took a deep breath, and then raised her arms high

“Alright, I’m gonna do it, I’m going to become a great hero!” she has a determined look and a smile on her face

Behind the balcony and beside the door her pet snake and her father are there, he sips a watermelon juice looking at her, a bit amused but also relieved that his girl is back to being happy again.

As the Sun went down, a Lil hero rises.

[koolcece22]

Enter Venomgirl

Ch.16

Miguel’s Pov

I wonder what Timothy meant, and wondered why Timothy showed this. He took a deep breath and asked again.

“Can I trust you?” 

“Yes. but I don’t know why you think I’m trustworthy?” I asked at the same time he pulled out a laptop and placed it down on the coffee table under the one light bulb in the room, guessing Shade also had no problem seeing in the dark like me. I sat down on the worn-out couch that had seen better days since it all scratched up, next to him as he started up the laptop that took forever. My computer would had it up immediately by now but I will have to deal with it. Timothy pulled up folders and looked through the data of the UBS drive. It shows scans of DNA, Compound R, and a list of subjects. I knew then and there the subject was human. I stare at the word subject as it brings bad memories. 

“The reason why I’m showing you this is, that Zee is a nice person but at the same time, they don’t trust people and only people as tools to get to their goals. Also, the fact they didn’t help any of the other Metas.” He said I can tell he was bitter by this and I can’t blame him. I have used it once.

“Also I think we need your help on this.”

“Did you tell your boss about all this?” I asked, 

“No, only half of this. I made two UBS drives. I gave one to Zee that had half the information they wanted on it. This one has all the information that was stolen from the Six. It was hard to get. especially since the leader was there today.” Timothy showed me the data. This computer is so slow, and sometimes It is hard to think this is what Peter and the others have to deal with. Tabbing my finger on the table trying to wait for this Shocking thing to load. 

“Can’t this computer go any faster?” I asked 

“Sorry. This isn’t the best model computer. Shade only was able to give me this. At least this is waterproof.” Timothy said with a nervous laugh. Lyla popped next to me with a giggle

“Don’t worry about this kid. Mr. Grumpy is very impatient since he is so spoiled in his time.” Lyla said as I swapped her away from my face. 

“Oh, so you are a time-traveling alien?” 

“For the hundredth time, I’m not an alien.” 

Before the kid can say anything something comes up on the screen. There were like thirty pages worth on the Subjects. Grab the mouse from Timothy.

“Hey!” He shouted but I just ignored him as went through this data. All the Subjects have been given the Compound R when they're in their mother wombs. Judging from this data something tells me they were told that their unborn were being tested. 

“My…Mom did that.”  I look at Timothy who looks down. “My mom and dad weren’t great people. They wanted to make a quick buck and volunteer to be tested. So not everyone was forced but it still vuck up.” 

“Yeah, well join the club, my parent weren’t great either.”

“Really?”

I shook my head and got back to this as went through the data I saw the Subjects were crossed out. I who used to work in the lab, know what it means when the Subject is crossed out. They are dead. They either didn't make it past birth or were dying after 6 months after birth according to results. This Compound R, what the shock is this? I was about to go to the next page but the computer was doing slow, I began to click it to move till Timothy grabbed the computer from me.

“Hey! Come on man! It is hard to get me a computer. Just give it a minute or so. There a merda of data it still loading in.”

I huffed. I hate this retro technology, why did Xena like this stuff again? 

“How long does it need?” 

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes or so.”

Ten minutes?! God this tech is so slow. I flop back down on the couch with a huff. Lyla was just smirking at me this whole time knowing how impatient I am with the old school computer. I decide to get up and check the perimeter, give me something to do. 

“ We can play video games while we wait,” Timothy said but I just ignored him. 

“Just call me when it's done loading.”

~

Ten minutes had passed till I heard Timothy call me back up guessing the computer. I returned to the room and saw Timothy scroll through it without me. I took the computer from him, he let out a huff from it. I took a deep breath as used to the computer not wanting to break it. Seeing the lab data on the Compound R and what it is. what is

shown in the lab results is heightened concentrations of enzymes and muscle building as well as other compounds that I have never seen before. These elements must be unique to only on this earth.  If I was in my Lab I could scan this element with no problem. 

As I went through the Compound R data there was small Side data from it. I click it as it says: Compound RV.

Compound RV? What that? A different form of the compound? As I went through it there were a couple of videos on there. Me and Timothy wonder what this is. Click on it but the video didn’t play I clicked on the computer again nothing happened. Before I started trying something anything, Timothy took the computer from me and looked into it. 

“So my computer is still loading the data into it and it's going be much longer,” Timothy said as he tried to scan it faster. 

“How much longer?”

“A day or so. My computer is a 10 old year model that was able to enhance as best I could. Sorry, It's not the best at it.” Timothy looked down looking like he was about to cry. I quickly pat him trying to calm him down, trying to remember what I would have done when Gabrella was upset. 

“Hey. we’ll find out what going on.” then I summoned Lyla who was already scanning the computer to take the info that we were able to scavenge from the drive.

“So I was able to scan what we got so far. I can’t get the info from that still being downloaded since this Earth computer has different processing than ours. So we got to play the waiting game boss.” Lyla said as I looked over the information we got. The best thing is that I head to my Earth real quick to see if there is anything we have missed so far. My watch then created a tiny spider bot that I gave to Timothy. He wonders what it is.

“Think of that like… a cell phone. Does this earth have a cell phone?” I’m not sure what type of moderation this earth has but so far it is similar to Miles’s and Gwen’s. Timothy looked at the bot like a kid getting a limited-edition toy. 

“My very own Alien watch. Thank mr.alien.” 

I sigh, there was no winning with these kids. I press a button on my watch to open a portal back to my earth. 

“I will be right back. If something happens. Hit that button on the bot and I will be back here right away. Got it?”

Timothy then salutes me like the little soldier he thinks he is. I jump in heading back to my lab, wondering what truly happened with this earth.

~

Shade’s Pov

 I got back to heading back to Jess, I can tell her everything went ok. Hobie got hurt but it wasn’t too bad. I just hate fighting that Spot guy. The man was getting on my nerves. At least I’m getting better at navigating this place. By the Great one, the place is so huge and it takes me longer to get back since I can’t stick on walls like that spider-people. I went through the place where they kept Villian and where I first kept here.

“ Look at all these different baddies,” Kuro said to me, and looking around all the bad guys, some glared at me. Others just ignored us, and a few looked around trying to find a way out. 

“Well, Well, Well. Look at girly out of her cage.” 

I stop and turn to see that Spot guy we just captured. He only has one spot on his body now. It must be because, from that device that Miles put on him, I’m guessing Spots are very dangerous. I try to ignore him. 

“I guess they let a freak like you out. Maybe you some lab rat they want to te-”

I glared at him, I guess one look from me caused him to shut up. I dare him to finish that sentence. Because nothing stops me from finishing the job.

“ Hey, Shade! Chill!” 

I to a deep breath trying to calm myself down. Putting my hand on my chest to calm my heart. I don’t usually get work up from insults that. Not from some dumb cartoon reject. I try to get out as fast as I can till a headache comes over me. I grab my head as another vision from Carnage comes to me again.

I can see him fighting and killing people. Enjoy every second of it, there was a moment when he was looking down at someone. The person has had chains on his body, bruising all over his body, and have number on his chest. I couldn’t make out the face

“Hey there bro.”

I snapped back to reality wondering what I just saw. Great one, I need to figure out what going on with me. I decided to bite the bullet and head to the doctor Spider-lady. I got there and knocked on her door.

“Come in.” I heard her say as I opened the door. I see Andrea looking in some books which is weird since I thought this was a futuristic world? The books look like they are from the 1800s. She looks up from her book to look at me.

“Oh Shade, did something happen to you?” 

“No…I mean yes. I keep getting visions of Carnage. Are you sure he is completely gone?”

Andrea got up and looked at me, rubbing her chin as she examined me. Never noticed that she had scars on her lips and neck. 

“Mmm. I have a theory I want to test on you. If you don’t mind?” 

“No?”

She smiled at me and led me to bed. I couldn't help but shiver at the sight of it but I try not to let her know that. I sat on it, as she pulled out a vial of something yellow. I sense something off about it, i reach my hand out to as I do that it jumps at me. My eyes widen in shock. What the vuck?!

“This is a symbiote or a piece of one. I had another symbiotic outbreak on my earth. So lucky you I was able to get a sample.” 

“Ok? What does this have to do with me?” I asked weirded out about this thing in the vial.

“If my hypothesis is correct, I think you can absorb symbiotes and gain their powers.”

I was so confused about what she said. What does she mean that I can absorb Symbiotes? I think she is crazy even if I could I don’t want that stuff anywhere near me. It's bad enough that I can see Carnage’s mind. I don’t need that in my already messed up life.

“We will test it later. I just got a message from the boss man he is here in 3…2..1.”  just as Andrea said a portal opened up in her lab and Miguel popped out from it. 

“Miguel?! I thought you were on my earth?” I said surprised he was here. Miguel dissolved his mask and had a look of surprise that I was there. 

“I was. Your friend Timothy wants me to do something. He believes that Alchemax, your Alchemax is planning something. I come here to recover what we got so far from the data he has gotten.” 

I raise an eyebrow in confession “What data?”

“Zee asks him to get something for them. I have to rescue him as he was surrounded by some mutated cops.”

I groan, next time I see Zee I’m kicking their ass. how dare they put a kid in danger for their gain. 

“ well since you are here, I want you to come with me. Since this is your earth data it is best that you should know as well.” 

Andrea sighed as she went back to her desk to work. Putting the veil on her desk. 

“Oh well, will test it next time then?” 

I just left not wanting to be a lab rat again. I follow Miguel back to his lab. He had to come here anyway since the room was in his lab anyway. We walk into the lab and head to the platform where all his computers or at least screens are. I am still amazed at all this future stuff. 

“Lyla, bring up the data we got so far,”  Miguel said as his A.I. popped up next to us. She smirks then pops up data from some sort. I saw Compound R and all the subjects' numbers and how they were crossed out. I have seen some of the information before I parted ways with Zee. I never knew there were so many, how could they? 

“Judging by this, whatever Compound R is it gives people powers. It also seems random, and anyone who wasn’t born with…they don’t survive long.” 

I just kept looking at all these subjects. I knew they were a lot but I didn’t know it was this many. I grabbed my right arm and squeezed hard remembering what they did to me when I was young. They deem me a failure. 

“Then their compound RV… I only have one piece about it and that is the was only one subject: RV-IV-001.”  Miguel looked at me, I just kept my head down being upset about this. I barely know any of this, for nine years I was kept in the dark or not gaining anything. Before I could say anything a video message came up, it was Miles. The video feed was a bit staticky and a bit blurry.

“Miles? What going on?” Miguel said trying to get a clear reading. Even behind his mask, I could tell he was out of breath and scared

“There–guy—all –animals—control—” Miles tried to say but his video kept cutting, before Miguel could see what going on we saw Mile getting grabbed by something. Then the video cut out. I can hear Miguel cursing to himself, then turn to Lyla

“Lyla. locate where Miles is now!” 

Lyla nodded as she did a scan I think. Till she pops up again then show what Earth he is: Earth 1610.

“Something is going on Miles’s earth. Lyla. open a portal near Miles location. Now.” Lyla nodded as she opened the portal, I followed him but he stopped me. 

“Your staying.”

“What? No! Miles needs our help. I’m not going to let that kid get hurt.” 

“Your no condition-”

“Like void, I am! You let me go with you or I’ll figure out a way to get to him.” I glare at him. I’m not going to let one of my friends get hurt. Miguel glared at me as he summoned his mask, not wasting time as he relented.

“Fine, let go.”

[ehrendame]

Porca merda!

A very real and very lethal arrow has just lodged itself securely in the front door of Resi’s residence. The red heart tipped arrow, firmly embedded, has a white card tied to the golden feather fletching at the end. An individual adorned with large white wings and a tightly wrapped cloth diaper covering their ass sprinted to the arrow they launched and places a beautifully wrapped gift basket underneath it before they retreat into an unmarked vehicle and speed away. Opening the card would expose gorgeous calligraphy neatly detailing the ramblings of someone likely experiencing a break in reality.

Buona Festa degli Innamorati!

I hope my gifts find you in good spirits! Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, I was the sweet little angel at your door to shoot an arrow of love and leave you something sweet! If you were quick enough to spot me, a cherub amongst all the hideous demons of the world, with my big wings and pretty doe eyes, I hope you blew me a kiss as thanks. Instead of the helpers paid to deliver, Cupid himself has come to you!

Usually, I wouldn’t go out of my way to do something like this since Valentine’s Day is almost exclusively celebrated between couples in Italy, but I thought it might be fun to surprise you. As the country of origin for the tradition, I was ordained by St. Valentine himself in a dream to carry on his mission of love and subverting authority on February 14th. Since I have no idea (or desire to find out) if you are in a relationship or not, I have taken the liberty of assuming not and created a wonderful care package for you! Please find two bottles of Recioto della Valpolicella wine, a box of handpicked chocolates and sweets, a quarter dozen bomboloni and maritozzo each, a clay face mask, and two bath bombs. I may have stuffed some other little things in the basket before I wrapped it up, so whatever else you find should be considered a wonderful surprise! Unless you were the recipient who ended up with my house keys, then I will need those back.

Even though this is supposed to be a day for lovers, I believe with the utmost conviction that the most neglected form of love is self-love… in the words of someone who has inspired millions: “If you can’t love yourself, how in the HELL are you gonna love somebody else?” And in that spirit of practising self-love, I have attached various pictures of myself in the Cupid ensemble I’ve decided to wear for the day. We all have to start somewhere, and I really do think I may love how I look in this, wouldn’t you agree?

Enjoy your day, with or without a partner, and make the most of what this world has to offer. Love comes from all sides.

Affectionately,

Feliciano ♥

(P.S. if my arrows have caused any property damage and/or you were unlucky enough to have been shot by by me, please fill out the paperwork at the bottom of the basket and submit your claim to my email.)

After taking the arrow out of her wooden door and making sure that she didn't-t injure herself with it Resi read the letter eagerly examining each word and taking in what Feliciano had to say. This made her smile, the sediment was sweet, especially the care package and the advice about self-love but once she read the statement of Feliciano dressed as cupid made her laugh out loud, out of hilarity, of course! He always knew how to cheer her up and this is always welcomed.

She looks at the care package and clocks the wine, chocolates, sweets, face masks, and so on then, something catches her eye, a glistening underneath the paper. She digs it out and notices a silver tennis bracelet she takes it out and holds it up to the light—"Ah, pretty—" She cooes as she puts it on. She will definitely enjoy these presents.

"You are a sweetheart and a dork, Feli—" She muses as she glances at the gifts gushing over them and glances over to the photos and chuckles still displaying the satisfied smile she did. It achieve what it intended as now Resi was beaming with gratitude. "Dankeschon and frõhlichen Valentinstag to you.

[SMS: Feli ] Just got your letter and care package and just wanted to say that I am beyond grateful. You have really outdone yourself.

[SMS: Feli] And about the dressing up as cupid. It's hilarious and I would love to see it. However, don't shoot me because I don't want to fall in love with anyone else. And Fyi. I did not find out keys just a gorgeous sterling sliver bracelet.

[SMS: Feli] When you are next in Garmisch-Partenkirchen call me and we can hang out.

[strwberieswsugar]

no but most of all, i want mikey to have a happy ending. the person who keeps losing everyone he loves, the person who believes he has to isolate himself from others so they can all have their happy ending except for him even if he’s miserable, the person who thinks there’s only one way to end his pain, the person who we haven’t seen a happy future for. i need mikey to have a happy ending

[ladyfloriographist]

Promises

Pairing: Luca Changretta (Peaky Blinders) x femme!Reader

Warnings: attempts at Italian, pet names galore, feelings of neglect, a small verbal fight, raised voices, Daddy Kink, Mafia Themes(?), mentions of marriage/children, is Reader Lady Macbeth-ing Luca?, vaginal sex, translations at the end

XXXX

He calls your name from the other room—from the main living area, with the fireplace and the velvet brocade armchairs and the piano in the corner.

“Come ‘ere a minute, would ya doll?”

He’s just arrived back at the hotel, and you’ve been waiting all day for him.

“Lemme look at my gal.”

You hear him rattling on as you slip into your silky robe. Something about how he hasn’t seen ya all day and how he’ll wring the fuckin’ neck of the next pezzo di merda* who—

“What’s wrong, baby?” You appear in the doorway, leaning on the frame provocatively. “You miss me real bad or somethin’?” It had been a struggle for you, too: locked up in this beautiful prison with nothing to do but put another record on and read through the local papers. Again.

To keep you safe, Luca assures you.

To protect you, he tells you, every morning before he leaves to go attend to his business.

“Dolcezza*,” Luca sighs, enraptured, looking over your form from his position in one of the armchairs. “Come to me, baby.”

You slink over to him, swaying your hips and rolling your shoulders just so, just enough—and gently pulling at the sash that holds your gown together.

“My God you’re a sight for sore eyes, dame.”

You hold back your smile, and come to a stop before him. You let your robe fall open, revealing your light, thin, peachy silk chemise, but you make no moves to get closer to him.

“Why the frown, dolce*? Huh?” He leans forward in the armchair, grabbing one end of your sash and toying with it as he looks up at you. “You don’t look too happy to see me. Do I gotta be worried?”

You draw in a breath and push it out in an unhappy sigh. “I wish you’d take me with you, Luchone*.”

Luca’s face falls into a glower, despite your use of one of his favourite nicknames. Big Luca.

His voice is raspy with weariness when he replies. “You know I can’t do that, doll.”

“Just for one day, baby. Just to lunch or somethin’, nothin’ big,” you bargain. “Nothin’ important.” You take a step closer, and drop your features into a subtle pout. “It’s like I’m trapped in here all day long and I hardly ever get to see my papino*.”

“Cazzo*!” he curses, tossing your sash away and throwing himself back into the chair. He takes a few angry breathes, staring at you. “You put me in an impossible fuckin’ position, you know that? I put you up in a beautiful fuckin’ hotel, fuckin’, look at this,” he gestures around him, “fuckin’ piano, radio, send a girl up for your fuckin’ hair—I give you everything, no? What do you want from me, huh?”

You take a step back and stun him with a hurt and pleading look, pulling your gown back around yourself.

Luca’s eyes fall softly closed as he collects himself. If only you knew the shitstorm he was trying to keep at bay—trying to keep from your door. “Ngah fuck, baby,” he sighs with exasperation, sitting forward in the armchair again and looking up at you imploringly. “I didn’t mean that.” He holds out a hand. “Come ‘ere, dollface.”

You resist, flashing wounded eyes at him. He can work a little harder for you than this.

“Come on, dolcissima*,” he croons softly, shifting forward some and pulling at your gown, “come to Daddy, yeah baby?”

You shuffle a little closer, standing between his knees. Luca hums and reaches up, slowly slipping your robe down your shoulders.

“You know I like ya, don’t you?” he murmurs.

You tilt your head to the side as Luca brings your gown lower and lower down your arms and almost off. “Do you, Daddy?”

“Mmm,” he groans, letting your robe pool in a puddle of silk around your ankles. He trails the tips of his fingers slowly up your outer thigh. “Think I like ya so much I wanna make you,” he cinches hold of your hip, “Mrs Luca Changretta.”

You step into him, pressing him back against the back of the armchair as you straddle his hips, sitting down on his thighs. “You wanna marry me, papino? Hm?” You press your groin to his and put one hand on his chest, and Luca’s eyes go dreamy and soft with desire. “You’d have to come see me more, Luchotto.” You slide your other palm down to his crotch and lean in close to his face to murmur onto his lips, “Think I’m forgettin’ you like me that much.”

Luca breathes deep through his nose as your hand glides back and forth over his stiffening cock. “’s at so?” he murmurs lowly, his eyes a dark blend of anger and arousal. “You tryna get a rise outta me, doll?”

“One you’ll like, baby,” you smile seductively as you tease his erection through his trousers, “promise.”

Luca blinks slowly, breathes deeply, giving himself over to the pleasure at every pass of your hand.

“I’ll be yours…” you pop the buttons on his fly and slip your hand inside, seeking out his stiff need, “…when they bow…” you start to stroke him, “…and call you…” you lean close to whisper in his ear, “…Don Changretta.” You let your lips linger against the shell of his ear, and Luca groans.

You take his right hand in yours and draw it to your mouth. “When they,” your hot breath ghosts over his fingers, “kiss your rings.” You look deeply into his eyes, still stroking his cock with a slow, consistent pace and firm grip, and press kisses to the rings on his second and fifth digits.

Luca shudders. “God Almighty,” he sighs with bared teeth, brow creasing, “mi stai facendo morire*.” He dips two fingers into your mouth, “You’ll be the fuckin’ end of me, you,” and drags the pads of them along your tongue and down your lower lip.

You nod and flick your tongue over his fingertips, murmuring, “Sì, papino,” before you press a kiss to them.

“Mother of God,” he breathes, eyes heavy-lidded. He dips beneath your chemise and teases your pussy with his wet fingers, stroking along your sensitive lips before slipping inside your honeyed core with ease.

You gasp, your grip on Luca’s thick length faltering as he pumps his digits into you. “Luchotto,” you sigh, and Luca’s lips break into a big, open-mouthed grin.

You spit into your palm and give his dick a generous swipe, and then you lift up, lifting off Luca’s fingers, and line yourself up with the swollen head of this thick cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Luca murmurs, “you miss Daddy, huh baby?”

You lower down, sinking onto his dick slowly as if in answer. Luca’s lips drop into an ‘o’ as he groans croakily and sighs breathily at the tight, wet, warmth wrapping around his cock.

Fully seated, you sit all the way down on his thighs again. He fills you beautifully, long and thick and pulsing with need. It makes you sigh, and Luca’s eyes water a little, lids fluttering.

“Fuck me, dolcezza,” he gasps, ringed fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, “do it now.”

He pulls you close to him, forehead to forehead, as you start to bounce and grind on his cock. The blessed blissful beautiful friction draws a moan from your throat—and Luca swallows it, groaning as he catches your lips in a hungry kiss.

He holds you to his body with one hand at your nape and slides the other down your back to squeeze and knead one of your ass cheeks.

You break the kiss to sigh into his open mouth. You lift for more height, lengthening the drag of your wet pussy over his hard cock.

“Uhmfh, bella figa*, baby,” he murmurs, deep and breathy like from deep in his gut.

“Mmhh,” you hum, “papino,” you sigh, “when you’re the most powerful man in all Italia,” you lift and drop, lift and drop, rolling your hips now to fuck him even deeper, “I’ll be your wife, Luchone.”

“Fuuck!” Luca growls. He yanks your silky slip off and dives your for breasts, holding them, squeezing, kissing your nipples. He wraps his arms around your ribs and splays his fingers over your back, holding you to him so he can devour your tits while you ride him.

“Baby,” you moan, the pleasure sparking right the way through your core. You keep lifting, rolling, dropping, bouncing on him, huffs and puffs of exertion and pleasure falling from your lips.

“You’ll be my wife,” Luca says, voice muffled by your soft flesh as he licks and sucks at your nipples, “you’ll take my name.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You’ll bear my children.”

“Yes, Luca,” you groan—and pleasure jolts up his spine and shoots through his throbbing cock.

Luca starts to thrust up into you. He plants his feet firmly on the floor and meets your downward pushes with quick snaps of his hips. Your bodies smack together now, slapping pops of flesh-to-flesh only just heard over the louder, deeper, more guttural grunts and moans from your throats.

“Ahhffuck,” he sighs, one hand going to your waist and the other dipping down to rub your clit, “I’m close, dolce.” Luca rubs at your engorged bud and looses a ragged sigh when your pussy reacts to the touch, clenching and squeezing his cock. “Get ready to cum for me, doll.”

You toss your head back and cry out, holding fast to his shoulders for leverage.

Luca can’t take his eyes off you. “Yes, yes, yes,” he coos through clenched teeth, cupping one of your bouncing breasts and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s it,” he croons, “that’s fuckin’ it. Right there, baby.”

Your pleasure rises: the feel of him inside you, rubbing your clit, and rolling your nipple all bring you hurtling towards your peak. To soon, because Luca plays your body like a fiddle, the sensations overwhelm you.

“Papino,” you gasp, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Hmmh,” he grunts a hum, “dolcissima. I know, baby. Can fuckin’ feel it.”

It blooms and tightens and crests, all at once. You moan, a rough and guttural sound as his cock hits against all the right spots deep inside you.

“Come on,” Luca growls lowly. “Give it to me, ‘n’ I’m gonna fuckin’ fill you up.”

You break, falling apart on his cock as your orgasm floods your body with liquid bliss. Your pussy spasms and seizes around Luca’s dick.

He keeps bouncing you—“fuucking wet,”—keeps lifting you up and pulling you down as you moan and wail through the pleasure, until he can’t hold on any longer.

Luca groans as his orgasm overwhelms him, holding your tremor-wracked body to his as your clenching, convulsing pussy milks every last drop of cum from his balls.

He shudders through it, moaning and groaning into your neck as the spasms taper off and you both float back down to Earth together.

For a long moment you hold each other close, and you’re nestled into the slope of his neck when he turns and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs huskily, “come out with me tonight.”

You lift up, the pair of you hissing and gasping from the sensitivity down below. “You mean it?” you say, your gaze flitting between his hazel orbs.

“Yeah,” a small smile breaks slowly across his face, “lemme take my gal to dinner.”

XXXX

Translations (questionable, I am not a native speaker)

pezzo di merda – piece of shit

dolce, dolcezza, dolcissima – sweet, sweetheart, the sweetest

papino – Daddy

cazzo – dick/fuck/shit (a curse word)

mi stai facendo morire – you’re killing me

bella figa – beautiful cunt

[haloshornsinkstains]

Indulge Me A Little?

Mouri Motonari x F!reader

Something of a sequel to "And What if I Bite Back?” though you don’t need to read that to understand this, they’re both just excuses for me to write smut about a sexy pirate lord.

Motonari is a bit out of character, it’s hard to write smut for someone who hates touch, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

CW: NSFW (PWP), female reader, mentions of kidnapping, writer getting carried away with pirate talk

“I can’t tell if yer brave or just real stupid Princess.” The chatelaine just shrugs and smiles, biting back a giggle at the mixture of expressions that flickered across his face. It only serves to deepen Motonari’s scowl, people he glares at do not smile in response. They cower in fear and run for their lives. But the Oda princess is a different breed altogether, just as sweet and wicked as she had been the first time he ran into her. “I thought you had some fabrics to show me.” She chuckles, nodding her head towards the cloth behind him. “If ya believe that was my meaning then yer more of a fool than I thought.” The princess merely shakes her head. “Oh no, I know exactly what you meant. But I also know you’ve brought some truly stunning fabrics into Azuchi with you before, indulge me a little?” Her smile is a little softer this time, eyes flickering between his face and the fabrics behind him, though she doesn’t make a move to get any closer until he sighs and nods. “Merda. Go ahead m’lady, but there’s plenty of better things we could be doing.” He grumbled, staring down at her as the Oda princess bent to look at the fabrics. She hummed. “Oh, don’t worry, we have all day to do better things.” “Then perhaps I might have some fabric on m’ship you’d like to see.” At that her head whipped up, narrowing her eyes at his sly grin, one hand reaching towards her obi. Motonari merely scoffed. “Stop it with that that face m’lady. If I wanted to kidnap ya I’d have had you tied up and shoved in the hold a long time ago.” Her eyebrows pulled together at his words, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “Wow, you really know how to inspire trust.” “Don’t need trust to bed you m’lady.” He chuckles. “Ya didn’t trust me last time now did you?” She hums thoughtfully, “I trusted you enough.” “Then yer head must be full of flowers. You remember I’m the Oda’s enemy right m’lady?” “You’d be surprised how many enemies of the Oda I talk to,” she laughed “and it’s not like I have enough brainpower to tell you any secret tactics when we’re together, nor are you particularly threatening the Oda at present. Unless your idea of a threat is outselling the local fabric traders. I don’t see the problem, unless you really do plan on kidnapping me.” “Not when yer guard dogs are expecting you back Princess. More trouble than it’s worth to have that silver kitsune chasing after me.” Motonari scoffed, motioning with his head towards the street. “Now, d’ya want to see these fabrics?” The chatelaine laughed, nodding her head and gesturing towards him. “Lead the way, Captain.” If she saw the subtle shiver that ran through him at that name, she was kind enough not to mention it as Motonari lead her towards the ship he called his own.

The Oda Princess’ arrival on the ship sparked a ripple of excitement among Motonari’s crew, several of the men on deck turning dark smiles towards her. The Princess shifted slightly, letting Motonari’s body sheild most of hers from their hungry eyes. “You finally captured the Devil’s woman Lord Motonari!” “Aye Captain! Want us to tie her up and throw her in the brig for ya?” Motonari bristled, throwing a glare in their direction that would send lesser men running for the hills. “Any part o’you touches her an’ I’ll be removing it from yer body, savvy? The Princess is my guest.” Ripples of dissent ran through the assembled crew, but one sharp look from their Captain was enough to quiet them before his blood red gaze turned back to the woman beside him. “This way m’lady.” “I didn’t know you could cook.” She grinned, pointing at the small kitchen built into the Captain’s quarters. “Any other skills you’d been hiding from me?” Motonari grumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘I ain’t hidin’’ and gestured towards some fabrics in the corner. “Planned t’get something made with ‘em anyway.” The chatelaine grinned, rushing over to inspect the fine western cloth, her eyes alight with happiness. “Oh, these are beautiful! What were you planning to do with them?” “I dunno yet.” Motonari shrugged. “I thought you were some kind of seamstress?” “Would you like me to make you something?” Her eyes, when she turned back to look at him, were so wide and full of hopeful joy Motonari nearly burst into laughter. Instead he managed a stiff nod, and got a bright smile in return. “I’ll make something wonderful.” “Yeah, yeah. You plannin’ to waste all your time looking at pretty fabric?” She hums, staring at the fabric for a few more seconds before her gaze flits back to him, soft smile sharpening into something more wicked. Enchantress might not be too far from the truth, if the way her eyes drew him in was any indication. But she didn’t move towards him, instead fixing him with those sparkling eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. “Ya gonna make me wait all day?” He growled. “You could have just asked. Or made me.” She huffed, pushing back to her feet and taking a few steps towards him. “I aint in the habit of forcing women into anythin’.” She laughs and shakes her head, eyes fixed on the blood red of his. “Oh, you wouldn’t be forcing me into anything. I wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t more than happy to do, you should know that much at least.” What little patience Motonari had left finally snapped. “Will you stop yappin’ and use that pretty mouth of yours for something better already!” With a smile she finally closes the gap between them, leaning forward so her breath brushes over his lips. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He didn’t answer, instead grabbing the collar of her kimono and pulling her lips into his. He could feel the way her lips quirked up against his kiss for a few brief seconds before those lips parted to let his tongue brush over hers. His hands left her collar, reaching down to pull her against him, her hips grinding into his as they kissed, his hand gripping the flesh of her ass. She whimpered, fisting one hand in the fabric of his cape as if it were the only thing keeping her standing.

“Where’s that smart tongue o’yours m’lady?” He chuckled, pulling back. “One kiss and all yer fancy words desert ya?” It took a few moments for her eyes to come back into focus, but once they did he saw her brows furrow, the smallest of pouts pulling at her lips. “Well, if you weren’t so skilled with your tongue maybe I’d stand a better chance.” She huffed, before her gaze sharpened, lips pulling into a sly smirk. “But if you really want to see a clever tongue, I’d be more than happy to show you.” "Oh?" His smirk was just the right side of predatory, eyes sparkling and pupils blown. "Well I ain't gonna stop you m'lady." With one last soft press of her lips to his she sunk down to her knees, slowly undoing his trousers. Each motion followed by a pause, time for him to stop her, but his patience was wearing thin and it took little more than a quiet growl to encourage her to hurry up. In the time it has taken her to undo the first two buttons on his trousers, she had them pushed down around his thighs, her hand gently wrapped around his length. Pausing she looked up at him, and despite the position, and all the filthy things he knew she was capable of, from this position she looked all doe-eyed and innocent. It made him want to ruin her. "That all ya got princess?" She didn't rise to his taunting, only smiling for a brief moment before she dipped her head to wrap her lips around him. Her eyes flicked up momentarily, just long enough to catch the brief flicker in his cocky smirk, before she started to bob her head. She revelled in the sharp hiss of breath between his teeth every time he pressed against the back of her throat. The strangled noise he made when she swallowed around him. His hand found its way into her hair, fisting in the strands as he followed the back and forth movement of her head. Just as she was starting to feel him twitching against her tongue his grip tightened, tugging her off him with a lewd pop. “Porra, can’t have the party finishing too early.” He muttered, nodding his head towards the bed. “Unless ya want me to take you on the floor m’lady, I’d get moving.”

The Princess hummed thoughtfully, as if she were truly considering letting him have his way with her there on the floor of his cabin, before slowly rising to her feet and making her way towards the bed. She slipped her kimono off as she walked, exposing the smooth planes of her shoulders and back, finally letting it fall into a pool at her feet beside the bed. She turned back to look at him, settling herself on the side of the bed so she could watch as he undressed. “You’re staring Princess.” “It’s a very nice view.” She hummed, not taking her eyes of him despite the warmth of her cheeks. He snorted and shook his head. “There are much better things we can be doing.” “Hard to do with you all the way over-”  Motonari crossed the room before she could finish, pressing her down into the sheets with the weight of his body. One large hand grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her back arched ever so slightly into his touch, hips pressing against his. “I aint going to be gentle with ya m’lady.” He warned, face hovering just above hers. “Not after that little show.” She tilted her head up, leaving the barest brush of her lips against his. “Perhaps I don’t want you to be.” He didn’t speak, instead focusing on pressing himself inside her. Holding still when he felt her tighten around him, his name a soft moan on her lips. He stayed like that for a while, hovering over her and willing his body to calm down, at least until she started to squirm beneath him, rocking her hips up against his in a desperate attempt to chase some friction. With a dry chuckle he started to move, reslishing the way her expression twisted, mouth falling open on a gasp as her hands flexed in his grasp. Straining against him in an unconscious effort to reach out and touch. He could feel the flex of her thighs against his sides, the way her walls pulled him deeper with every stroke.  "Ah, so ya do like it when I'm rough with you m'lady." Motonari smirked, pulling back a little to study her face. The Princess nodded vigorously, eyes so blown and glazed over it was a wonder she even understood him. "Yes. Yes, please! I… I'm so clo- so close. Please don't stop." The words were breathy, slightly slurred with pleasure, but the way she desperately tried to rock her hips against his told him all he needed to know. His hips snapped forwards, free arm pushing one of her legs to the side to let him push deeper. He felt her tensing more under him with each thrust, her breath coming in sharp pants between each moan and scrambled cries of his name. When she finally reached her peak he nearly stopped his movements altogether, sharp eyes drinking in everything about her expression in that moment, memorizing the feel of her walls contracting around him, how her chest looked with her body arched against the sheets, the trembling of her legs around him. He barely managed to pull out in time to spill across her stomach, eyes still fixed on the blissful look on her face when he did.

Some time later, when both of their breathing was even and the princess had cleaned and dressed once more, Motonari shoved the pile of fine fabric into her arms.  “Here y’are m’lady, I’ll expect something good.” He grumbled, trying not to focus on the way her eyes lit up at the fine work all over again.  “Thank you! I promise I’ll make something amazing! Hmm… what’s this?” She adjusted the fabric, gently lifting a small cloth pouch from the top of the pile and holding it up to inspect. “Nothing really, now come on m’lady. I’ll take you back to town before those guard dogs of yers come yappin’ at my heels.” He pushed open the door to his cabin, gesturing for her to start moving. With a sigh the princess re-adjusted the bundle of cloth and made her way out, ignoring the calls of the crew as she made her way back out on deck. One sharp glare from the captain silenced them, the softly murmured thanks from the woman beside him going ignored. He escorted her all the way back into the markets, neither spoke much, but the silence was comfortable. Once they reached the markets she turned and offered him a bow, the formality of the gesture made him snort given she’d been in his bed less than an hour before. Turning his back to her, he threw a casual wave over his shoulder, turning his head slightly to call back to her. “I’ll be back for whatever you make me in a few weeks. I’m expecting something good m’lady.”

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Plus One

Mista x F! Reader, College AU

nsfw, minors dni

warnings: alcohol, swearing. 

“What’s the word?” A familiar arm drapes across your shoulders, pulling you against a warm side. You huff, doing your best to squirm away from him. 

“Let me read, Mista,” You turn the page in your book, refusing to look anywhere but the text. Mista squeezes you, laughing. 

“C’mon, Bombolone. I’ve been here forty five minutes and you haven’t even said hi to me once.” 

“Hi. Let me read.” You nudge his side with your elbow, and he laughs again. You’re loathe to admit the sound fills you with warmth. 

“So what’s the word?” He repeats, swinging his legs over your lap. You huff, pink beginning to dust your cheeks. 

“Nothing new, other than the fact that I can’t read anymore, I guess,” You look over at him, snapping your book shut. “C’mon, Mista. I have a paper on this book due next week.” 

“And I have a plus one due to a wedding in two days.” He grins easily, linking his hands behind his head. Your gaze flits to the other students in the common area. “You still haven’t given me an answer.” 

“Oh, Mista, you know I-” You sigh, meeting his face. “I’m busy.” 

“If I go to that wedding alone, my Famiglia will never let me hear the end of it,” He hums. “I’m on my knees, bombolone, you know how us Italians are.” 

“Clearly, on your knees.” You rest your elbows on his legs, putting your chin in your hands. “Promise you’ll leave me alone after?” 

“Scouts honor.” 

He grins, reaching over to gently punch your arm. “Do you have a dress?” 

“The nicest thing I own is a polo from a career tech program I joined in high school and a pair of khakis,” You answer, rolling your eyes. He hums, his eyes closing in thought. 

“Come on. I’ll buy you a dress, then.” He swings his legs off of you, dragging you to your feet. You balk at the idea, trying to wrench free from his grasp. 

“No, I can buy my own-” 

“Nonsense! We have to match anyways. It’ll be fine. Think of it as me paying for you to come to the wedding with me,” He smiles, lacing his fingers with yours. You bite your lip, squeezing his hand. 

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” You finally relent, easing out of his grip to grab your school bag. “Has anyone ever been able to say no to you?” 

“Several people, actually. Most of the time.” He plucks the bag out of your arms, looking smug. You shove him gently, your face burning. 

“Oh, shut up.” You don’t protest when he drapes an arm around you. “We have to make this quick, though. I have a class at four.” 

“That’s plenty of time.” 

-

“Are you going to let me see the dress on you, or are you just going to hide in that changing room all day, Bombolone?” Mista’s voice leaks through the curtain, and you flush, worrying at how the fabric hugs your frame. It doesn’t look bad, but it does accent some of your insecurities. 

“Give me a moment,” You reply weakly, adjusting the fabric so that it sits more nicely against you. “Okay.” 

Before you can lose your resolve, you pull the curtain back, spinning around in a slow circle. The soft blue fabric sways with your movement, and when you finally meet Mista’s eyes, his mouth is hanging open. 

“I knew it! It looks terrible on me, doesn’t it?” You blurt out, hugging your arms. Mista grabs your shoulders, getting right up in your face. 

“What?! No! I think you look incredible! I just...Stai così bene che ho dimenticato come parlare,” He mumbles, and you step back, huffing. 

“You know I don’t speak Italian, Mista.” 

He flushes, and you stare for a moment. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him blush. 

“I said you look so good I forgot how to speak,” He turns away from you, biting his lip. “I mean it. You look amazing in that dress.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” He sounds breathless. “Let’s get this one. There is nothing terrible about this dress.” 

You shuffle your feet when you reach the counter, flushing when you hear the clerk tell Mista how much he’ll be paying. 

“Oh, Mista, no, Let’s go back and find a cheaper dress,” You tug on his arm. “Or let me pay for some of it.” 

“Absolutely not,” He pulls out his wallet, handing the clerk his card. “I told you I’d pay, right? So let me pay. Don’t worry about the price.” 

“Who’s even getting married?” You ask, dropping your arms and clasping your hands in front of you. He grins down at you when the purchase is made and slides his arm through yours, leading you out of the store. 

“You’ll meet them at the wedding.” 

You slide into the passenger seat of his car, checking your phone. He puts the dress in the trunk, slipping behind the wheel and starting the car a moment later. 

“It’s only two thirty, do you want to go get lunch? My treat?” 

“After you already blew so much on me?” 

“Please?” 

“Mista, I couldn’t. Really. You can come join me in my apartment if you’re quiet and let me study.” 

“I’ll cook for you then!” He drives off, smiling to himself. You sigh, fixing your gaze out the window. 

-

You’re roused by your phone ringing early in the morning, and you groan, answering it without even checking the caller ID, your voice thick with sleep. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, get ready. You can do whatever you want with your hair. I’ll be there in about forty five minutes.” 

“Mista?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, jesus,” You pinch the bridge of your nose, yawning. “You really expect me to be able to do my hair in forty five minutes?” 

“No, of course not. I’m going to make you breakfast. We don’t have to leave for another four hours.” 

“Jesus Christ,” You yawn again. “Door’s unlocked. Just walk in.” 

-

“Hey,” You jerk awake when your shoulder is shaken, and bolt up, narrowly missing Mista’s face. 

“Shit! What time is it?!” 

“Relax, you still have plenty of time,” Mista steps back, tilting his head. “Did you fall back asleep?” 

“Unintentionally,” You sheepishly avoid his gaze. “Sorry about that.” 

“Hey, that’s why I came over so early. C’mon.” He grasps your hands and pulls you out of bed, righting you when you stand so you don’t fall over. “Coffee?” 

“Huh? No, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You wipe at your eyes, and he smiles at you, lopsided. You stare at him blankly. “What?” 

“Nothing. You’re cute when you wake up, that’s all.” He tweaks your nose and leaves your bedroom, humming to himself. You stretch and head towards your bathroom. 

The shower does a good job at waking you up.

You enter the kitchen, in nothing but a slip and a robe, running a towel over your face. 

“Should I wear makeup?” 

“If you want,” He answers, setting a plate of pancakes in front of you. “I personally don’t think you need it.” 

“You made these?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They look good.” You take a bite, your eyes fluttering closed. “They taste good too.” 

“Hey, thanks.” He grins. “Do you mind if I use your bedroom to change?” 

“Go for it.”   

He emerges some time later, fixing the cuffs of his shirt, and you stare, dumbfounded. He catches your eye and grins easily, running a hand through his hair. 

“My eyes are up here,” He jokes, and you flush, looking away. “Like what you see?” 

“You wish,” You shoot at him, placing your thumb nail in between your teeth. He laughs, nudging your arm with his fist. 

“Did you think maybe I was bald under my hat? I know, my hair does come as a shock to some people, but don’t let it get your panties in a twist.”

“Go change into your dress if you’re ready,” He pours himself another mug of coffee, leaning against the counter and watching you with glinting eyes. You slide out of your chair, face flushed, and disappear into your room. 

Twenty minutes later, you emerge, dress on, makeup and hair done, facing another problem. 

“Uh, Mista? What am I going to do about shoes?” 

“Go ahead and just wear whatever for now, we’ll stop somewhere on the way. And make sure to take a jacket, it just started raining.” 

“Lovely,” You grab the nicest coat you own and shrug it on, pulling your umbrella out of the side closet after tugging on the shoes sitting by the door. Mista checks his phone, humming. 

“Ready?” 

“Alright. I’m part of the wedding party, but I won’t be away from you for long.” He offers you his arm and takes the umbrella from you, walking you out to his car and helping you into the passenger seat. You scroll aimlessly through your phone, nerves causing your hands to shake the longer the car ride goes. 

Halfway through the ride, he turns on the cd player and sings along quietly, tapping the wheel to the beat of the song. You’re surprised to find that he has an amazing singing voice. 

He catches your gaze out of the corner of his eye and grins, winking at you.

“You’re catching flies, bombolone.” 

You flush, looking back down at your phone. He chuckles, pulling into the parking lot of a shoe store you’ve barely even dreamed of seeing the inside of. 

“What size shoe do you wear? I’ll go in and pick something out for you.” 

“Oh, uh-” You tell him, and he grabs the umbrella from the backseat. “But-” 

“I better not hear you complain about me buying you something else, Tesoro,” He catches your eye, his glinting. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. We’re friends, right?” 

“At least let me pay you back?” 

“Absolutely not,” He smiles, leaving before you can get another word in edgewise. You slump against the seat, exhaling sharply.

He returns roughly fifteen minutes later, box in hand, a smile on his face.

“They match your dress,” Is all he says, and drives off, humming to himself. 

-

You’re asking yourself why you ever agreed to this when he pulls up to the venue, and your nervousness only grows when he reaches into the backseat and hands you a small box. 

“Relax, I’m not asking you to marry me yet,” He jokes, opening the box for you. “It’s just a corsage.” 

“Even if you did ask, I’d say no.” You watch as he slips the flower onto your wrist. He jokingly slumps back into his seat and throws an arm over his eyes, groaning. 

“Merda! How do you expect me to go on like this? I’ll just stare forlornly at the wall the entire wedding! I won’t even dance!” 

His joking manner chips away at some of your anxiety, and you can’t help but smile. 

“You’ll move on, I’m sure. Maybe I’ll finally be able to finish my schoolwork when you do.” 

“No chance,” He grins and peeks at you from under his arm. “Pull your seat back and change into your shoes so we can go in. I’ll have to leave you pretty soon but just pick a seat wherever and I’ll meet back up with you after so I can take you to the reception.” 

“I know what’s bothering me about this,” You say, opening the shoebox and gazing at the blue satin flats inside. “You never have anything this planned out.” 

“Ah, you can’t say never,” He jokes. “I had a whole plan to ask you out after I met you in Professor Nero’s class.” 

“You dropped that class, Mista.” 

“Who knew that biochem would be so difficult?” He sighs wistfully. “I just don’t have the brain for it. Who would have thought we’d see each other again in Sociology?” 

“Did you finish your paper yet?” You ask him, tugging the new shoes on. 

“Absolutely,” He laughs. “Absolutely not. I haven’t even started it.” 

“Mista, that’s due on friday.” 

“Ah, I’ll get it done,” He waves you off. “We have other things to worry about right now.” 

He steps out and around the car, opening up the umbrella and your door for you. Instead of offering you his arm, he laces your hands together as you walk into the massive church. 

“Mista, Siamo tutto qui!” A younger boy, with black hair and bizarrely violet eyes waves Mista down, and Mista calls over to him. 

“Ah, arrivo tra un minuto, Narancia!” 

“Mista, am I going to be the only english speaker at this whole wedding?” 

“Nah, ‘course not,” He squeezes your hand. “Everyone here speaks English, some better than others. I gotta get going, sit anywhere in the chapel but the first three rows.” 

“O-okay,” You find you miss his hand when he lets go, and you watch him walk down the hall, tossing his arm around a slender blonde man. 

You suppose it’s good to know he’s this familiar with everyone he comes across, You think to yourself as you take your seat and clasp your hands together. 

Other guests begin to fill the pews as time goes on, some casting you weird looks, other’s ignoring you completely, some smiling. You bite the inside of your cheek, jumping when the music starts. You watch as the groom makes his way up to the front- a long silver haired man in a black suit and purple lipstick. Trailing behind him is a young woman with bright pink hair, the purple haired boy you saw earlier, and a different, grumpier looking blond. The first blond follows him, and he’s followed by Mista, who winks when he catches your eye. Everyone stands when the- other groom starts to walk down the aisle, donned in an elegant white suit, his raven hair pristine and perfectly in place. 

The actual ceremony flies by for you, mostly because you barely understand any of the Italian being spoken. Mista grins over at you when the couple kisses, and when you finally meet back up with him at the back of the church, he pulls you into a hug. 

“Let me introduce you to my famiglia, bombolone.” 

“O-okay?” There’s not much you can do but follow him, and you’re skidded to a halt in front of the married couple themselves. 

“Bucciarati, questa è quella ragazza di cui ti ho parlato, da scuola.” 

The man in the white suit turns and smiles at you warmly, taking your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. 

“Parli italiano?” 

“Uh, molto poco,” You’re nervous, but much less in front of this man than you thought you’d be. He nods. 

“How are you enjoying your time here?” His accent is thick, but his english is near perfect. 

“I love it here,” You tell him, clasping your hands in front of you. “My Italian classes are giving me a hard time, but I am working hard to learn the language.” 

“Ciao,” The other man says gruffly, glancing over you before turning away. Bucciarati smiles, waving his hand. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s like that with everyone new. I’m surprised Mista convinced you to come.” 

“I have a hard time saying no to him,” You confess quietly. Bucciarati laughs. 

“He can have that effect on people, can’t he?” 

“Come meet Giorno,” Mista tugs on your arm, pulling you out of your conversation. Bucciarati reprimands him in italian and waves you off. 

-

You step out of the passenger seat of his car, hurrying into the convention center where the reception is being held. Mista waits in the car for the rest of the wedding party, watching you go. 

It’s later in the night when Mista approaches you out on the patio. You had retreated from the cacophony of loud music and voices, nursing your fourth glass of sweet red wine and watching as the clouds roll through the dark sky. 

“You disappeared on me,” He rests his forearms against the railing, and you glance at him, eying him appreciatively when you see that his jacket has been discarded and the sleeves of his dress shirt have been rolled up. The alcohol is doing well to make your judgement fuzzy, so you reach over and squeeze his arm. 

“Loud.” 

“It can be, yeah,” He nods, noting the way your cheeks are flushed. “How much have you had?” 

“This is my last one. Promise.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” He smiles, looking up at the sky. The loud, boisterous music turns into something soft and sweet, and you hear Mista take a deep breath.

“Would you come dance with me? Per favor?” 

You look down into your half empty wine glass, nodding. He pulls it from your hands, setting it down on the ledge, and moves to guide you back inside. You pause, just at the door. 

“Can we dance out here? I don’t want to take any attention away from the newlyweds. And it’s quieter out here, I can hear myself think.”  

“Of course,” He smiles and takes your elbows gently in his hands, pulling you against his chest. You stumble and fall, a giggle spouting from your mouth. “God, I finally get you on a date and you’re drunk.” 

His tone is teasing, and he rests his hands on your hips to keep you steady. 

“Not that drunk,” You giggle again, winding your arms around his shoulders. He tilts his head down towards you, his grin morphing into a smirk. 

“After this dance, I’m making you drink some water,” He lifts a hand and tweaks your nose. You flush and, thanks to your clouded judgement, bury your face into his chest. He rests his chin on top of your head, humming softly along to the song that filters through the door. 

-

You’re nearly sober by the time you make it back to his car, and he asks if you want to go home or if you’d like to spend the night at his place or if you’d like him to take you back home. 

“Do you live alone?” 

“Yeah, I have a one bedroom just off campus.” 

“How big is your bed?” 

“I was going to sleep on the couch.” 

“That didn’t answer my question,” You say, leaning back against the seat. 

“It’s a double.” 

“Mm, sure then. I’ll stay,” You smile over at him. “I can help you write that Sociology paper tomorrow then.” 

“Curses! You’ve revealed my hidden plan!” He slumps jokingly, burying his face in his hands. You laugh, and god, he could listen to the sound of you genuinely laughing forever. 

You step into his apartment, slipping the flats off of your feet by the door. He steps around you after slipping his own shoes off, and turns the kitchen light on. 

“Want some tea? It’ll probably do you good to prevent a hangover tomorrow.” 

“Sure.” You sit gingerly on his couch, looking around. He watches you for a moment, disappearing into his bedroom after putting the kettle on the stove. 

When he comes out, He hands you a folded pile of something soft and tells you to go ahead and shower and change, and that your tea will be ready by the time you’re done. 

You do as he says, washing your face and changing into the clothes he provided. 

You inspect the blue hoodie and clean pair of shorts he gave you, smiling to yourself. You never expected to dance with him, much less spend the night at his place and wear his clothes. The hoodie smells faintly of gunpowder, and you think to ask if he maybe visits the shooting range. 

Steam billows out of the bathroom door when you open it, and Mista teasingly asks if you’ve left him any hot water, handing you a warm mug of something that smells delicious before he disappears into the bathroom himself, emerging some time later in sweats and a loose t-shirt. You catch yourself eyeing him appreciatively again, and firmly turn your gaze down to the almost finished mug of tea. 

He joins you on the couch, tossing his arm across the back of it and flicking the tv on. For one of the first times, it’s silent between the two of you, and comfortable. Before long, you scoot closer to him and rest your head against his shoulder, and you can’t blame alcohol for that decision. Part of you is terrified, but the other part just feels warm and sleepy and content. 

“Woah, don’t fall asleep on me, bombolone,” He wraps an arm around you and peels you away from him, smiling softly. “If you’re tired let’s get you to bed.” 

“Mista, I want to cuddle with you,” You say, meeting his eyes. “It’s really scary, but I want to do it.” 

“Why is cuddling with me scary?!” 

“I may be realizing that I have a tiny amount of feelings for you,” You bite your lip. “And no one’s ever- I’ve never been held like the way you held me while we were dancing. It made me warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“That so?” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of your head. You nod. 

“I promise that’s not the alcohol talking either. Please?” 

“I can’t say no to you,” He finally sighs, standing and pulling you up. You positively beam at him, and it’s his turn to flush and look away. 

He takes your hand and retires to the bedroom with you, allowing you to cuddle up against him when you both lie down. There’s a feather-light kiss pressed to your forehead, and your eyes have slipped closed. 

-

You wake first the next day, and notice you’re on your side facing Mista. His arm is draped over your side, and he’s snoring softly. His face is much more boyish when he sleeps, his face completely relaxed. You stretch, turning onto your back, and think about what you told him last night. 

Seeing him like this only solidifies the feelings that have nestled in the center of your chest, and you curse yourself lightly when you realize that he’s won, and that you aren’t even upset that he’s finally won you over after a year of knowing you. 

He grunts softly in his sleep and drags you closer, so you turn to face him again and card a hand through the short curls on top of his head. His eyelids flutter, and you’re met with his impossibly dark eyes the next moment. 

“Cazzo, you’re really cute when you’re sleepy,” He reaffirms what he said to you yesterday, giving you a lopsided smile. You blush, trying your best to keep a smile off of your own face. 

You don’t do a very good job at it. 

“You too. You snore though.” You avert your eyes, covering your mouth with one of the hoodie sleeves. 

“Shoulda heard yourself last night. Though a weed wacker had gone off in my room.” 

“I do not snore!” You gasp, sitting up. He laughs and drags you on top of him, securing his arms tight around you so you have nowhere to go. 

“I wouldn’t call it snoring so much as a 747 temporarily taking up residence in the back of your throat.” He hums, keeping that cocky grin on his face. You scoff. 

“I do not snore.” You state it again, firmly, and he laughs, squeezing you. 

“There are ways of getting me to shut up,” He says lightly, and you narrow your eyes, tilting your head back. 

“Why is that my responsibility? Shut yourself up, Mista.” 

“D’you mind?” 

“By all means, I’ve been asking you to for a year.” 

He smiles, then, and grabs the front of his hoodie, dragging you down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. They’re extraordinarily soft, and they do more to shut you up than him. When he pulls away, you stare at him for a moment, before cupping his face in your hands and leaning down to kiss him again, and again, and again, until you have to physically drag yourself away for air. 

“Cazzo,” He pants, cupping the back of your neck with his palm. “Just...wow.” 

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly, searching his face. “Give me more.” 

His eyes glint, and he flips the two of you so that your back is pressed against the sheets. 

“Are you sure?” 

“God, yes. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, and I am absolutely certain that I want to do it,” You reach up and drag him down to meet your lips again. His breath catches in his throat, and he worms his way down to your neck, his hands pushing up the hem of the hoodie he gave you. 

You arch your back so he can slide it off, and he groans out loud when your chest is laid bare before him. 

“Cazzo, You’re not cute, bombolone, you’re actually really fucking hot,” He breathes, cupping your breasts in his hands. You flush at his words. 

“Even the playing field,” You tell him, and you don’t have to twice because he’s already shrugging his shirt off. You’re finally met with the full plane of his stomach, instead of what you see when he wears his crop tops, and you trace the muscles appreciatively with a finger, stopping just at the hem of his sweatpants. He leans down, kissing your cheek, and starts to trail open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your carotid, stopping once or twice to suck gently at the soft skin there. He relishes in the way your breath jumps in your throat and grins against your skin, kissing along your collarbone and down your chest and stomach. 

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, pausing at the hem of the shorts, and you groan, twisting his hair into your hands. 

“God, please!” 

He laughs, a little nervously, and slides the shorts down your legs, tossing them off of the bed and spreading your legs and dipping his head between your thighs. His breath ghosts just over your clit, and you have to beg him again for him to finally start moving. 

“Sorry, I’ve just...never eaten anybody out before,” He huffs, closing his eyes and swiping his tongue up and along your folds. You gasp. “Sorry if I get a little experimental.” 

He slides his tongue up again, flicking it just right against your clit. You grip his hair harder, grinding down onto his face, your eyes squeezed shut. 

When he seals his lips around your clit and gives a testing suck, you cry out, clenching your thighs around his head. He groans against you, working to figure out what you like and what you don’t until you cry his name and arch your back, grinding against his face while you ride out your orgasm. He continues through it, forcing your thigh up and out with his free hand so he can have better access. It’s not long until you cum again, and you have to push him away when the stimulation nears pain.

“F-fuck,” You pant, blinking slowly as you try to bring the ceiling into focus. He pulls his fingers- you didn’t even notice he added more- out of you with a wet noise and holds them in front of your mouth for you to taste. 

He groans when you run your tongue along his digits, watching your face as you work diligently to clean them. He’s rock hard at this point, and itching to be inside you. 

He works off his sweatpants with a huff, his cock springing out and smacking your stomach heavily. It’s not terribly long, but dark and thick, uncut, the tip flushed pink and dribbling precum where it’s peeking out. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, but he rolls his foreskin back and nestles between your thighs, and your thoughts are clouded by what he’ll feel like inside of you. 

He takes his time, brushing the head along your folds until it catches at your entrance, and with a shaky breath, he slowly pushes in. 

You both moan when he does, your head falling back on the pillows, his hand reaching up to grip the headboard. 

“Cazzo,” He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

He rolls his hips, eliciting a cry from you that sounds like his name, and sets a slow, heavy pace. He lifts one of your legs, resting it against his shoulder, and angles his hips so he can hit all of the best spots inside you.

“Christo, do you know how good you feel? Se non sto attento, verrò subito,” He leans down and catches your lips in a kiss, brushing against your cervix when he does. You moan into his mouth, your walls spasming around him. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groans, his hips pistoning even faster into you. “F-fuck, where do you want me to cum?” 

“I d-don’t care! Anywhere is-” Your words get cut off, and you scramble to find purchase against him when you cum for a third time. He pulls out and starts jerking furiously into his hand, and you flinch when warm cum spurts against your stomach. 

“C-cazzo, he groans, flopping down next to you when he’s spent. Both of you can do nothing but breathe and bask in the afterglow, your minds working hard to catch up to the experience. His chest heaves, and he turns his head to face you, a goofy smile on his face. “That was so hot.” 

“There’s no way that was your first time eating someone out,” You gasp, loosely clasping hands with him. He laughs. “That was too good.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” He squeezes your hand, exhaling sharply. “Fuck. Let me get you a towel. 

“If you clean me up good in the shower I’ll suck your dick for you while you write your paper,” You meet his eyes, grinning at him. His face flushes, and the next moment, he’s standing and lifting you off the bed. 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

[avalentina]

Love's Booked Part 1 📖

Image Not Mine

Warnings: None that I can think of. Some kissing, a bit of angst, but mostly cute fluff.

Word Count: 3.6k

I’m grabbing another box of reshelves when the little chime above the door of Rose’s Books dings. My grandmother used to call me her little rose and it was her who fueled my love of books. When I get out from the storeroom, a young guy about my age is wandering around looking at everything. He looks like he just finished an early evening run. His short hair has these adorable natural curls to it and when his amazing brown eyes meet mine, the box slips from my hands and thumps to the floor, landing on my foot.

“Merda, ouch.” I yelp as he rushes over with a shy smile on his face and grabs the box. Easily hoisting it onto the nearby counter.

“Is your foot okay?” He asks with an American accent and my stomach erupts in butterflies.

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Bruised toes tend to happen when you own a bookstore.”

“Oh, you own this place? It’s cozy, I like it.” He says, that shy smile back.

“Thank you.”

“I take it you’re Rose?” He asks.

“Well technically my name is Y/N, Rose is a nickname from my best childhood memories, so it seemed fitting. But anyways, did you just come in to browse or are you in need of a specific title?” I ask, shaking myself out of the daze and back into sales mode.

“I was hoping you had a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone. I lost mine.” He says sheepishly.

“I don’t have The Sorcerer’s Stone, but I do have The Philosopher’s Stone.” I say with a knowing smile.

“I keep forgetting it has a different name in the U.S.” He says and we fill the short walk over to its shelf with talk about Potter. I hand him the book and our fingers brush as he takes it from me.

“All set then, or do you need some time to browse?” I ask, hoping he opts for the latter option.

“I think I will take a peek around if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” I nod. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’m a firm believer that a good book is always better with a comforting drink.” I’ve got a little setup of some espresso, tea options, water, lemonade, and my favorite apple cider behind the register station.

“Maybe just a small lemonade.” He says and I grab him one before going back to my shelving. As I go around the shop reshelving I feel the weight of his eyes on me from time to time and can’t help but take quick glances over at him as well. He’s just so pretty to look at.

I hear the door chime again, as my best friends and business partners Livia and Nico come in to help me close up the shop. Nico grabs his first box and starts reshelving before setting it aside and rushing back over.

“Y/N why is Christian Pulisic in the shop right now?” He asks me and I guess he’s referring to the cute guy with brown eyes.

“He needed a new copy of Philosopher’s Stone. What’s wrong with that?”

“He's Christian Pulisic, one of the new signings for AC Milan.

“So he’s a footballer?” I ask.

“One of the BEST footballers ever. I bought his jersey to wear to games as soon as the transfer was finalized.”

“Okay Nico, breathe, he’s also a normal human being. Why don’t you do the reshelves in the kids section and I’ll finish your area.”

“Would it be a bad time for me to get his autograph?”

“Of course not, happy to chat with a fan.” The guy who I guess is kind of a big deal says to Nico with a genuine smile and extends his hand so Nico can shake it.

“Ciao. È un piacere conoscerti di persona. Sei incredibile. Adoro quando fai scivolare la palla tra le gambe di un altro giocatore, penso che tu la chiami nutmeg, comunque è così bello.” Nico says in rapid fire Italian.

“I'm going to be honest. I have no idea what you just said. I recognized nutmeg but that's about it.”

“Not to worry Christian, I can translate Nico for you. He said, “Hello. It’s nice to meet you in person. You’re amazing. I love it when you slip the ball through another player’s legs, I think you call it a nutmeg, anyway it's so cool.” I say. “Nico just has a tendency to get all of his rushed thoughts and ramblings out in Italian. It's a lot easier.”

“That makes sense. Maybe all I need is an Italian tutor.” He says, looking at me with that shy smile.

“Oooh, Y/N would be amazing at that. After all, she is half American.” Livia chimes in, having finished her round of reshelves.

Christian raises an eyebrow and my face flushes as I explain. “My father was on vacation in Florence when he met my mother who was on holiday there with her friends.”

“Her parents are the best Italian love story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl enjoy classic Italian food, boy up and moves to Italy to be with girl.” Livia adds and I bury my face in my hands.

“That's actually adorable.” Christian says. “So what do you say? Will you help me learn Italian?”

“I'll think about it.” I reply.

A little bit later Christian is ready to pay and I ring him up. I scrawl my number on the bottom of his receipt along with a little note while he and Nico talk a bit more.

“Text me when you're ready for your first lesson.” It says and I stick it inside the book before handing it to him.

“Receipt is in the book. They make great bookmarks.” I say as he leaves the store.

Later on that night I've just gotten settled in my apartment above the shop when my phone pings with a new text.

Same time tomorrow? He had texted.

I suppose. We can use the lounge area up the rounded staircase in the shop. I answer.

Christian sends back a thumbs up and I go for a quick shower. As I fall asleep I can't help thinking about his pretty face and shy demeanor. But it's the curls on top of his head that get my stomach tingling.

I get dressed the next morning with him in mind. Wearing a slightly lower cut shirt than normal. It's bright red and I pair it with black dress pants and a gold chain style belt. My sneakers are the only thing I refuse to compromise on.

When Christian arrives he's wearing an identical outfit to yesterday but I notice the AC Milan logo on the zip up this time.

“I take it you had training again today,” I say to him.

He nods and follows me up the rounded staircase in the middle of the shop to the mezzanine style space where we have chairs and a sofa set up for anyone who wants to read a bit while they're in the store.

“So what do you know?” I ask him.

“Well I know that Ciaò means hello, arrivederci is goodbye, and grazie is thank you, but that's about it.” He says and I smile.

“And what do you need to prioritize for learning?” I ask next.

“I'd like to be able to communicate with my team on the pitch.” He answers with that cute shy smile. "After that, anything and everything that will help me with press and media interactions."

“So pass, see, drop, ball, cross, shot, man on, etc.?” I clarify after we share a laugh over press and media interactions.

“Yeah that covers most of them, I take it you know football.”

“I know both world football and American Football. Although I'm still not sure I understand how the latter is classified as football when the only players that touch the ball with their feet are the punter and the kicker. Plus it's not even spherical.” I ramble and he lights up with a huge smile.

“I get it. It is kind of funny.” He chuckles. “So does that mean I'll see you at the San Siro?” he asks and this time it's my turn to laugh.

“Maybe for the derby. But I'll be in black and blue.” I say with a smile.

“Ahh, you're an Inter fan.”

“Which makes you the archenemy.”

“Oh no, whatever can I do to change your mind?” He says jokingly.

It was then I noticed that we'd been slowly leaning in closer to each other and now we were just inches apart.

“Fanculo, baciami.” (Fuck it, kiss me.) I say and close the distance pressing my lips against his for a short moment before pulling away.

“Can I grab you something to drink?” I say in an attempt to get a breather, but before I can get up Christian pulls me back, kissing me again. I can't help but kiss him back.

“That, that was amazing.” He says in a whisper, smiling.

Eventually we both venture back down for waters. On his way out for the night Christian kisses my cheek and I blush like crazy. “See you tomorrow Y/N.” He says as he leaves. You wave goodbye and turn your mind to closing up when Livia interrupts you.

“I saw that.” She says with a giggle and I just smile at her. “And don't you have the day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, he insisted on taking me for ‘an evening coffee and maybe gelato,’ were his exact words.” I say, a smile forming.

“You're into him! OMG wait until I tell Nico!” Livia exclaims. “He'll be begging for pitch side tickets.”

“Oh good Lord, you're right. You can't tell him, at least not yet, let me have tomorrow and then we can talk.” I tell her.

“Oh sure, make me keep gossip this good from my fiance.” She says back and we both laugh.

-The Next Evening-

I pair my favorite navy blue and gold constellations cold shoulder shirt with light wash flare denim jeans and my Ja 1 Chinese New Year sneakers. My Inter Snake necklace and a light gray leather crossbody bag with my wallet, phone, and sunglasses as my only accessories. Christian meets me just outside the bookstore in a white puma tee with a black logo and jeans.

“Bellissima.” (Beautiful.) He says as I exit.

“Grazie.” I say back with a smile.

“Any suggestions on the best spots around here?” He asks and I nod as we make our way to one of my favorite espresso places.

We arrive and take a seat outside as a waiter comes out to greet us.

“Buonasera, cosa posso offrirvi per questa splendida serata?” (Good evening, what can I get you two on this gorgeous night?) The waiter asks.

“Due espressi e due cannoli, per favore, grazie.” (Two espressos and two cannolis please, thank you.) I respond in rapid Italian. Christian just looks at me wide eyed.

“I ordered an espresso and a cannoli for each of us, the ones here are fantastic.”

“Do they have the Italian doughnut ball things?” Christian asks.

“Zeppola?” I ask him back just to confirm we're on the same page.

“Yeah, those.” He says smiling shyly.

“They should, but if you're on a sweet kick you gotta try the cream cheese Sfogliatelle.” I say back.

“I'm sorry, the cream cheese what?” He asks.

“The Sfogliatelle. Sfol-ya-tel-le.” I have him say it until he gets it. Which is pretty quick. “It's basically a croissant filled with cream cheese. They can also be filled with a custard, or sometimes almond paste.” I explain to him.

“I'm at your mercy here, whatever you like I'm down to try.” Christian says before adding, “Go crazy with it, I'm going to have to try it all eventually.”

When the waiter returns with our espressos and cannolis I order the zeppola and sfogliatelle, as well as a cream puff and a classic tiramisu.

Christian's eyes alight when everything arrives. I can't help but comment on it, “Looks like someone has a bit of a sweet tooth.” I say with a laugh.

“I'm usually more careful with it, but this feels like a good time to just let myself enjoy it since I just have light training and film tomorrow. We play Torino on Saturday, my first game at the San Siro.”

We enjoyed the espressos and pastries with light conversation. Christian told me a bit about his time at Chelsea but was very vague about it. It seemed like a place that frustrated him more than anything. After we finished, Christian insisted on paying even after I offered to split it with him considering what I ordered for us. As we were walking back to the store Christian and I exchanged stories about childhood. When I told him I played football at university on a scholarship he seemed pretty impressed and asked if I ever wanted to go pro.

“No. Towards the end of uni I felt more of the stress, I wasn't playing for fun anymore, I wasn't enjoying myself on the pitch, and I realized I didn't want to lose my love for the game.”

“What position did you play?”

“What didn't I play is the better question. I had really good pitch awareness, I acted as the secondary goalkeeper, but I usually played in the center, whether that was at center back or center mid. Sometimes striker, but I liked center back the best. It was more of a defensive midfield almost, with the way we played, but I got my share of goals and assists and a few clean sheets too.”

“Leftie or Rightie?” He asked and I answered with a proud smile on my face. “Dominant leftie.”

“Impressive.”

“I'm also left-handed but I actually golf and bowl right handed.”

“You bowl?”

“Of course, it's great for grip training. It helps exercise and build the muscles in your fingers, which is good for keepers.”

“Ok, damn, that's actually interesting. I'll have to ask Mike if he bowls.” Christian comments just as we reach the shop.

“Well, this is me.” I say and he shakes his head with a smile.

“You live above the store? Why does that not surprise me at all.”

“It's like the shortest commute to work a person can have and then I have more time with Astra and Aurora in the mornings.” I say and Christian raises a brow. “Come on up, I'll introduce you.”

We go up the back set of stairs inside the building and I unlock my door. Astra my huskydoodle and Aurora my havanese are sitting in their respective beds patiently waiting for me to call them out.

“Okay, are you ready?” I ask Christian. They won't bite him or growl or bark obnoxiously, or anything but they will go beg for all the attention. He nods and I give my girls the signal.

“Ciao Ragazze.” I say. At the mention of their code (hi girls) they come rushing out of their beds towards me for a few nuzzles before they begin their investigation of Christian.

Christian ends up spending about twenty minutes with me and the pups, before heading home to get some sleep. I went about business as usual the next morning, it was shipment day so I had plenty to keep me busy all day. Nico arrived late in the afternoon. He does all the businessy managerial paperwork on Fridays. Livia and I call it his office day. I'm on a quick break when Nico comes and grabs me.

“Someone requested you specifically.” He says as I follow him out to the front.

Christian is standing there in his training kit with a small black gift bag. “Hey you,” he says with a smile.

“Hey yourself, I didn't think you'd be by today.” I replied with a wide smile.

“I brought you something.” He says and goes to hand me the bag when Nico pipes up. “Y/N why don't you and Christian head up to your place, I'll close up the store tonight.” He says and shoos us both up the stairwell that's inside the storeroom. Once we get inside and Astra and Aurora settle, Chris hands me the bag. I pull out a badge style pass to the San Siro which is attached to a black lanyard.

“It’s an all-access pass into the tunnel and the reserved section for the game tomorrow.” Christian explains and I sigh.

“I’m flattered, really, but I can't. I work an open to close at the shop.” I say. I go to hand it back to him when my phone buzzes. “What the hell did you do?” I ask Christian after reading my message.

“I messaged Livia about my idea and she said she'd be happy to cover it for you.” He tells me.

“So is this what happens? We kiss twice, go on one maybe-date, and suddenly my world is supposed to revolve around you? Because I hate to break it to you, but that's not how shit works.” I say back, mildly pissed off.

“Y/N no. I'm sorry, I thought I was doing something nice for you.” He says sadly and suddenly I feel like shit for getting pissy with him.

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said that.” I say. We stand in an awkward silence for about a minute when I break it. “Listen Christian, I wouldn't say no to a second maybe-date or a first official date with you, but I love my job, I love that store, and I have worked way too hard to get it to where it is. It's my livelihood, just like football is yours. I need to be here for the store just like you need to be there for your team.”

“Then you'll let me take you out after the store closes tomorrow?” He asks.

“I'd like that.” I say back.

“I admire your passion and dedication to the store, so I'm sorry if I made it seem like I didn't care. I should've tried to look at it from your perspective.” He apologizes.

“Can we kiss and make up now?” I ask with a sly smile and Christian smiles back before pulling me into him and kissing me sweetly.

“I think I'm going to like having kiss and make up time with you.” He says with a smile. One I happily return. We watch a few episodes of one of my favorite American shows while cuddling on my couch with the dogs. Eventually we both end up hungry, and I pan sear some steak and vegetables, boil some of my favorite fresh pasta and then toss it all together with some granulated garlic, fresh grated parmesan, and a poppyseed vinaigrette. After dividing it into two bowls I rejoin Christian on the couch.

“So, do you prefer Christian or Chris?” I ask him in between a bite of dinner.

“I'm good with either, it's usually Chris during casual conversations like this with my family, friends, and teammates.” He elaborates.

“Noted… Chris.”

After we finish eating, Christian insists on helping me with the dishes. As he's leaving I go to hand him the badge.

“Keep it,” he says. “Just in case you change your mind.” He kisses me soundly and heads out.

I go to head to bed and see the gift bag on the coffee table. I can tell there's more in there just by the way it sits. Sure enough, under a few pieces of tissue paper is the mostly white US National Team jersey. When I pull it out a note falls out.

Y/N,

I was thinking that maybe we could meet in the middle. Seeing as you're half American and all, a US Soccer jersey wouldn't be treason.

-Christian

P.S. if you do feel so inclined and want to wear my club jersey, feel free, I included one of those too.

I set the note aside and pull out the red and black jersey. Flipping it to look at the back I see Pulisic 11 and can't help but smile. I grab the USA one and check its back as well.

“He thinks he's so smooth.” I say to Astra and Aurora. “Va bene ragazze, è ora di dormire.” (Alright girls, sleep time)

Astra and Aurora follow me back to my bedroom. As soon as I open the door they go and jump up. Aurora sprawls out on the pillow that I don't use and Astra curls up right in my spot. I take a quick shower to get rid of the dirt from the day. Once I've got my sleep shirt on I lift the sheets. Astra moves to the other side so I can slip in. Then she scootches back over for snuggles.

When I get up the next morning I glance around the room and my eyes land on the red and black jersey. I text Livia to make sure she's still ok with covering for me. I pull on black skinny jeans, the red jersey, and combat boots. I pull my hair back in a braid, add my sterling silver football long earrings, paint on a dark red lip, and draw my cat-eyes. I grab my crossbody bag and the pass, before stopping in the shop to thank Livia.

“Go get him girl!” She hollers as I leave for the San Siro.

Hope you enjoyed! I'm still working on part 2. It will probably be 3 parts total with an open ending so I can do check-ins in the future.

-Ava

[ndoandou]

I saw your requests were open again. I got so happy. If it’s ok if I can request how would the ikevamp boys would react to over hearing mc talk to someone else. Like venting about having a wet dream about them? Could be nsfw or sfw i don’t mind either way. 💕

Hello! Thankyou for the i n t e r e s t i n g request! 💜💜💜

//i had too much fun with leonardo's part HAHAHAHAH

//i appologize if i did a shit job, i waffle too much especially since i wrote this as 2 am x.x

Mild NSFW (suggestive themes)

CHARACTERS: THEO, COMTE, LEONARDO, ARTHUR

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Hmm in this case, id imagine her venting to sebastian in the kitchen ( lets imagine they decide to speak french to eachother instead of japanese) , cleaning up at night. one of the vampire boys would head over to kitchen to get something/look for MC but stops when he hear the conversation going on in the kitchen.

Theo

He would find this adorable lowkey tbh

He would lean over the wall, waiting for her to leave the kitchen

I think it would be a turn on for him? But he finds it more cute than arousing- okay maybe VERY arousing

He can't wait to tease his hondje with the info he has just heard

Wants to make her "bark" in bed

Scenario:

MC walked out of the kitchen after venting out her T h i n g to sebastian. To her surprise, theo was leaning on the wall with an amused expression.

"T-theo? What are you doing here?" Mc said as she was not expecting him to be there.

"I was looking for you. Thats when i heard.... an interesting confession from you hondje" theo said smirking

He walked over towards mc, causing her to walk back, her back eventually hitting the wall. Theo placed a hand on the wall, next to her face, kabedoning her. MC let out a yelp and Theo leaned over to her ear.

"You sure do have the wildest things to say hondje. Why dont we recreate those naughty dream of yours tonight, hm?"

Comte

He would be amused lowkey horny 😳

He knew that MC always had something funny or cute to say, but this? Very interesting

I feel like he would write a small note telling MC to meet him in his room

When MC is in his room, that's when the fun and teasing begins ;)

Scenario:

Comte initially came looking for MC in the kitchen but to his surprise, he heard something rather interesting.

"I.. had a very questionable dream- me and comte was doing uh- i-"

"Deep breaths MC, speak slowly"

"Oh? What is this?" Comte whispered softly to himself as he stood by the closed door listening to their conversation.

"He touched me everywhere and the he uhhh... well..long story short, it was a sexual dream that involved intercourse..."

"My, oh my"

Comte's lip curved into a smirk. He quickly walked over to his room to write a special note. As soon as he done that, he walked over to the kitchen door. He placed the note by the door.

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MC left the kitchen feeling embarrasment and guilt after what she confessed to sebastian. That was when she stepped on a piece of paper. Mc picked it up to examine it

"To MC..Meet me in my room..abel" mc read aloud to herself

She froze

Had he over heard what she had been talking about to sebastian??

"There is a good chance that.. he had been eavesdropping on us" sebastian said teasing MC

MC glanced over to sebastian with a confused expression, which she then ran off towards Comte's room.

She slammed the door open, revealing Comte who was sitting on the bed with a mysterious smile

"Good evening, mon amour. I take it that you read my note?" he said calmly as always

"You.. heard everything did you" MC said full off embarrasment

"Yes, and now we will do whatever you dreamt about here" Comte said patting the bed with a devilish smile

Leonardo

Big horni but he tries to act cool

In reality hes losing it🥵

Big big horni, straight to bed as soon as he and mc meet eachother

Would want MC to retell her dream to him in absolute detail as he rails her

Btw take a shot whenever i say "ciggarilos"

Scenario:

"She had a lewd dream about me?" Leonardo thought to himself as he inhaled his cigarrilo

He was eavesdropping on MC and sebastian. He had his ear placed over the wall far away from the door, as he didnt want them to smell the scent from his ciggarilos. This was the only time he found his enchanced hearing usefull, as a pureblood.

His member was throbbing against his pants as MC's description got even more detailed as it went on. At the same time he inhaled his ciggarilo sharply whenever MC said something that is a big turn on of his. His ciggarilo was the only thing stopping him from going insane from arousal.

Eventually he inhaled too sharply, causing a coughing and wheezing fit, alarming MC and Sebastian.

"Merda!" Leonardo swore under his breath as he quickly ran away fron the scene towards his room

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MC knocked on leonardo's room

"Come in."

MC invited herself in. Leonardo was sitting on his bed with his cigarrilo.

"Are you alright? I heard you coughing earlier and it sounded intense" MC said worriedly

Leonardo inhaled his ciggarilo as he scratched the back of his head

"About that..." he trailed off

"Well?" MC raised a brow

"I was eaves dropping on your naughty conversation cara mia. i wasn't expecting that much lewdness from you which caused me to choke on my cigar." Leonardo said as he chuckled, glancing over to MC who was trying to process what he had just said.

"You.. heard everything?!" MC said in disbelieve. That was when she glanced over to his pants, revealing a huge tent.

"Well.. yes. And it has caused a rather BIG problem, as you are looking at it right now.." he said suggestively

Leonardo crushed his cigarrilo onto the ash tray.

"Care to help cara mia..?"

Arthur

My man would straight up open the kitchen door too confront MC like its nothing

Actually glad that MC has such dreams because as embarrising it is to admit, he had such dreams about her multiple times

He wish she would have told him directly as its a good reference for bed ;)

Scenario:

"And he was touching me down here.."

"Oh? She had a rather naughty dream about me?" Arthur said to himself

He initially came looking for MC bit was presented with something interesting..

He opened the kitchen door open causing MC to jump and sebastian to look over to the door

"Arthur?!" MC exclaimed full of surprise

"Well, well. What an interesting story, love. Im rather upset that you didn't tell me first~" arthur said as he walked slowly into her direction, eventually pinning her on the wall

"Lets have some fun shall we?" Arthur said, whispering into her ear earning a soft gasp from her

"Ehem. I shall leave you both together" sebastian fake coughed as he exited the kitchen pretending to not have seen anything.

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Long story short, arthur railed MC in the kitchen like no tommorow 🤭