#eh who cares. read my words boy

[raggedyflowers]

“When you try to rizz them up”

summary: one piece character reacting at you (trying) to rizz them up. it’s my first time writing smut so … don’t look at me I’m shy (may delete later)

character: Ace, Law, Sanji, Zoro x female reader

cr: NSFW 🔞, heavily flirting, suggestive words, semi public sex

Ace:

Drinking with Ace was not a smart idea ‘cause while the alcohol went directly on your brain, it seemed that Ace burned it as soon as it touched his lips. So it’s not a big surprise when at the end of the evening you were drunk, but he was perfectly fine. “So” you smirked at him, with a courage you usually didn’t have. “You catch fire only to the fist or even up the elbow?” it was such a dumb line that you should’ve feel embarrassed even if drunk, but Ace found it endearing. “You are so out your mind right now, y/n” he told you, helping you get to your room. “You make me out of my mind” you kept going, ignoring his laughter. “Whatever you say” he respond to you. “Usually I’m better at flirting” you mumble to yourself. “You’re going great, why don’t you try when your sober?” he asked you with a smirk, leavening you at the door at yours room without words. The next time you hanged out together, Ace kept an eye on you. “Try to remain sober this time, y/n” he winked at you. “I really wanna satisfy your curiosity”.

that night he did satisfy your curiosity… and not just that

you two found your way to Ace’s room and then he showed you how fast he can warm up the situation

He let you sit on his face and he spent the night eating you out

Law:

Your relationship with Law has always been private and even if someone could have said that he was cold with you, you know behind closed door Law was nothing but a loving and caring partner. It didn’t stop you to try to rizz him up in front of the rest of the Heart Pirates. You loved seeing him blushing, but most of all you loved what did come after. “You don’t need to use your devil fruit” you said to a confused Law. “You already have my heart”. You look satisfied the red cheek of your boyfriend who shock his head. “Why are you like that, y/n-ya?” he asked talking over the laughter of your crewmates. “Like what?” you asked innocently. “I just want you to shamble my organs with your dic —” you never finished the sentence since Law grabbed your arms and took you away.

“You already stopped being a brat, eh y/n-ya?” he asked after pinned you at the wall as soon as you two have entered in his room

You could’ve just bite your tongue for keeping your moans low

“Ah-ah” he said while slowly tracing your entrance with his tattooed fingers. “Don’t stop talking now. Let everyone hear you like before”

And then he push his fingers inside of you and you couldn’t do nothing but scream his name

Needles to say your organs were actually shambled that night

Sanji:

“You should wear the burgundy suit more often” you said to Sanji taking him aback. “Mmh?” he asked you, stopping cutting the vegetables. “I need something pretty to look at”. You always said things like that to him, joking mostly, but not entirely. And you loved seeing his cheek turning red after you called him pretty. “Move please, pretty boy” you said one day passing near to him and grabbing his waist to move him. “Y/n ~ ” he mumbled covered by your laugh. “Pretty, really?” he asked you and you cupped his check. “The prettiest” you said to him. “Not as pretty as you, my love” he told you back. “Wanna show me how much pretty you can be for me” you asked him with a mischievous smile.

he did show you how pretty he is

with his red cheek and sweet smile while he pounded into you

“you are the prettiest” he said you groping your breast while he kept his pace. “taking my cock so well”

but really he was the prettiest boys, especially when he lowered himself and started eating you out

Zoro:

One of your favourite activities on the Sunny was watching Zoro work out. You pretended to read a book but your eyes couldn’t help but to lingering on his sweaty body. “Your book is upside down” he said to you with a smirk. “Really?” you asked, without an ounce of shame. “Are you training on the forth swords styles?” Zoro looked at you with confusion. “You know, the other sword in your — ” you pointed at his pants. He smirked. “Wanna found out?” he smirked again.

he actually spent all night “practicing” with his forth sword

you never been more happy to indulge him

“do you like my sword style?” he asked you while keeping the brutal pace pounding into you

you wanted to say yes, but couldn’t form a single thought

[manszen]

long distance situationship

pairing. fem!reader x vinsmoke sanji.

summary. you yearn for a certain blond pirate to come back home to baratie.

contains. fluffy angst, comfort at the end, whole cake island spoilers, told from the reader’s pov.

word count. 1.1k.

note. i really adore sanji and zeff's familial bond.

the loud commotion from your workmates inside the cramped kitchen of baratie draws you away from your dish plating.

“it’s here!”

“let me see! let me see!”

“how much is it this time?”

“i bet he tried his best to look cool. he looks like an idiot with the last one,” patty who’s next to you whispers down on your ear. he wipes his hand with a kitchen towel, a fond smile on his lips.

you laugh quietly at him.

“eh? what’s this?!”

you lift your head, a tad surprised. carne’s shrieks sound too shell-shocked for someone who claims over and over again that he doesn’t care at all about sanji.

“the bastard is a vinsmoke?!”

at that exact moment, zeff enters the room. his wooden leg clicking against the kitchen floor, effectively silencing the gasps of surprise of his workers.

“figures,” he quips after gaining everybody’s attention. “what’s the boy’s bounty now?”

“it’s 330 million berries,” carne announces, raising sanji’s wanted poster up in the air. his other hand grasping the rest of the newspaper. “they still used his old photo, though.”

“that perverted face of his again?”

you let out a small giggle and everybody turns their heads to you. as if with one accord, they all smile knowingly. even zeff, the baratie’s owner, appears thoughtful.

the kitchen suddenly feels warmer than usual.

“his photo isn’t so bad,” you mumble, trying to brush off their teasing looks.

“says the girl who collects his wanted posters before owner zeff can,” patty chimes in. you have this crazy urge to scream at him for exposing you like this until carne clears his throat, reading the newspaper article out loud.

“it says: ‘the vinsmoke and charlotte families entered into a political alliance via marriage between the third vinsmoke son, sanji, and the 35th charlotte daughter, pudding’.”

oh.

patty, zeff, as well as the others, wince when they hear carne’s announcement. you’re grateful they don’t say anything more about the matter, but you don’t give them time to say something anyway, since you’re already turning your back and resuming your work.

“say no more,” you hear zeff say to carne. “i believe sanji wouldn’t marry someone so easily. at least, without my approval.”

something heavy lodges in your throat right then. you mutter a cryptic excuse, weaving your way outside the kitchen doors and rushing to the safety of the girl’s restroom before anyone else can grab a hold of you.

anyone who works in baratie knows about your little infatuation. they’re not against it, but they’re not extremely supportive of it either. it’s just… it’s sanji that you’re head over heels with.

sanji who plays it cool and thinks before he acts.

sanji who deeply cares for almost everyone in baratie.

sanji who respects food more than anything else.

sanji whose only fault is that he’s borderline crazy when it comes to women.

you know exactly how crazy and submissive he is with women.

you aren’t an exception to that rule either. he proved that to you one late night as you both wash the rest of dishes after closing baratie.

he said a lady shouldn’t soak her hands in dishwashing soap for a long time, that you should let him do the rest. to which you only bumped his shoulder, joking that if he treats you the same way he treats his female customers, you’d feel somewhat special.

and his response?

‘you are special. and to me, you’re extra special.’

it might seem normal for him to compliment a woman, but you, on the other hand, are not used to it. growing up with nothing but irresponsible men around you, it’s only tough love that you’ve ever known.

that’s when you start to see sanji in a different light, with the intention to suppress it for as long as you could simply because you’re terrified of your own feelings.

you’re terrified of your feelings not being reciprocated.

although somehow, it has become an unspoken deal between you and sanji.

you start to seek each other’s company when your designated rooms feel too cold and lonely at night. you start to catch each other’s eyes during work hours, over tens of long kitchen counters, and smile shyly as you avert your gazes. you even start becoming touchy, leaning your body against him when he wants you to try some of his cooking, and while he’s shaking with exhilaration, he doesn’t make a huge scene out of it in hopes you two won’t be found out by zeff.

you start to get this fuzzy feeling the two of you are finally onto something.

but, as fate would have it, sanji got recruited by a man named luffy, claiming that he needs the best cook out there if he’s going to be the king of pirates.

and who are you to hold sanji back?

you kept your mouth shut as he told you his final decision, tucking away your own selfish desire to not let him go. you patted his shoulder, bravely smiling that he should follow his heart and see where it takes him. and he gave you one of his boyish grins, whispering thank you for being so understanding.

you promised yourself back then that you wouldn’t be the very reason who would break that smile.

you close your eyes and lean back against the restroom door, reminding yourself that he's still in the process of chasing after his dream — his childhood dream. after all that, he will be back in baratie in no time.

you just didn’t think you would find his name on the news with the word ‘marriage’ attached to it, that’s all.

a gentle rap at the door knocks you back to your senses.

“there are customers waiting to be served,” comes zeff’s soft warning. “forget that shitty kid. you deserve better.”

you snort. even if he says those harsh words at sanji, it’s still laced with fatherly affection. the impression brings a soft smile to your face.

“hey, owner zeff,” you begin. it seems that speaking with a thick door in between you and your employer helps. “do you think… do you think he’ll come back?”

“hmp. do you really think he won’t? the boy might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to forget where his heart is.”

his words make you feel a hundred times lighter. “so baratie is where his heart is?”

the silence stretches on from the other side of the door you’d think zeff has already walked away. until he says with a warm voice, “you are where that boy’s heart is.”

stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.

[enhalusional]

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 (𝙽.𝚁𝙺)

New school always brings new beginnings. But this wasn't your beginning. It was the end.

Word count: 1.4k

Based on multiple requests.

Niki knew you were here before he even saw you. It was evident in the way his heart hammered on his chest. Whom would it beat for like this if not for you?

His existence of 19 years wasn't worth anything. He wallowed in keeping away from people. He just hated being around people. His mind was always blank, like an old television static. He felt nothing. No anger, sadness, happiness, nothing.

The you happened. The first ray of light in the pitch blackness that was his life. You had stood there in front of the class, looking around nervously as you introduced yourself.

"Hello. My name is y/n..."

His brain short-circuited. In years, he felt something. He had been so used to feeling empty that he didn't even know what this was. He had stared at your small frame. He found the baby fat on your cheeks cute. Your auburn hair reached your waist in lustrous waves. He had the urge to count small freckles across your cheekbones. And when you looked at him with your green eyes? He knew he wanted you.

Rest under the cut

That was 2 months ago. Now when you entered the class, wearing a cute little floral dress that reached just above your knee, hair tied up in two small half ponytails, he found you more beautiful than he did the previous day, the day before that and so on. You grabbed attention of every other boy in the class. He knows so many of them have a crush on you. But no one dared to approach you.

You might wonder why anytime you striked a conversation with any of them, they'd excuse themselves and run away. You would feel sad. And he would be there for you, to get your mind off of others. And moreover, he knew you only had eyes for him. Why else would you ignore all those people staring at you and plop down beside him?

"Morning, ki~" you sang.

"Morning, baby." He greeted back with a wide smile. "You look pretty."

He just called you baby nowadays. You took it as a term of his childish endearment. Though for him it wasn't one. You were best friends. Fate was working in his favor when you had sat next to him on the first day. You were the first person he had spoken to willingly. And you immediately become friends with him.

"Oh thank you..." you flip your hair.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked you.

"Eh...had to stay up late. Regression sucks." You said.

"I told you to sleep well. Study can be done anytime." He frowned.

When will you start taking care of yourself?

"Really I think I should change my study time. I hate writing exams in my dreams." You huffed.

His dreams were all you. He saw himself sleeping next to you, breathing in your perfume. Your smile right next to his. Sometimes it was cute like this. But sometimes it went much further. You under him, whining for his attention. He would tease you in the start. Until you become impatient. But you'd just look so ethereal to him that he wouldn't be able to stop himself any longer.

Someone called you and you wave at a classmate. You excuse yourself and walk over to the other side of the classroom to talk to another friend of yours. A girl obviously. He only ever allowed girls to speak to you. And that's why it was a surprise when another boy walked over to you and you spoke to him as well.

Niki narrowed his eyes. How could you look so happy speaking to a boy who wasn't him? And that boy...liked you.

For a long time, Niki had wondered and amused about his lack of emotions. So much so that he started to keep a journal about various expressions people make and what they felt at the moment just to get a better understanding of emotions. The result wasn't what he desired, but at least he could read people's eyes like an open book.

And right now, both yours and the boy's eyes were shining. The kind that he had come to associate with liking someone. Niki gripped the pen in his hands. How dare he look at you like that? How dare he make you smile like that? Poor you. That boy was trapping you in his web and you had no idea. When that boy patted your head, Niki lost it.

***************************

All he saw was red.

Red everywhere.

On the walls.

On the floor.

On his hands.

And the boy in front of him, lying in a pool of red.

Niki sat down on the chair in front of the boy. The boy was almost dead. Blood seeped from his clothes from the places where Niki had plunged a knife. Honestly, Niki had lost count of the stabs after a point. The only place left unscathed was the boy's face. Why? Just so Niki could be reminded of the face that had intrigued you so much. And because he had kept it for the last. He got up from the chair and bent down. The boy barely had his eyes open. He pulled out a blade from his pocket and pressed it onto his cheek. The boy's mouth opened in a silent scream.

"You still have a lot of energy even after I cut your tongue off." Niki clicked his tongue.

He slashed a slanting lone across his face. And repeated the same with the other side.

"Now...the best part." He muttered.

The smile he had given you earlier. Niki pressed the blade at the corner of his mouth and tore the side downwards. He did the same on the other side as well. Blood poured out of the boy's face before finally, the light in his eyes went out.

"There. Now smile."

And Niki felt a smile creeping up his own lips.

*************************

A year passed. By now, you were starting to form a crush on your best friend. You thought it was embarrassingly cliché. But you couldn't help it.

It was around the middle of the year when you were going home alone from a supermarket. And two people had followed you. You hadn't even gotten to the point of screaming before they had clamped your mouth shut and dragged you off into a dark alleyway.

But your best friend was there before anything could happen. That was the first time your heart had thumped so wildly in your chest. Watching Niki bring down a glass bottle on your perpetrators' head was too brutal for you. You couldn't recognize your friend at all. And you were scared at first when he approached you.

You had gulped and backed away from him. Until he had forced you into a hug. Without meaning to, you found yourself relaxing against him. And when he wiped your tears while comforting you, for the first time, your heart was thumping for an entirely different reason.

From then on, there was something between you two. You couldn't explain it in words. But it was palpable in the way your hugs had become frequent and longer. His hand holding your head against him and the way you fiddled with the sleeve of his clothes while talking about anything. But the tension just stayed there. Never actually leading to anything.

But what you didn't know was that Niki just didn't want to scare you off. He was just waiting for you to make the first move. His way of showing his love was mainly in the multiple murders he had committed in the past year. His way, was to make sure the screams echoed in the basement as he relished in the thrill of killing for you.

Every boy who had the audacity of making heart eyes towards you, every person who put you in danger or made you cry was gone. Over the time, he had become better at hiding it. He had found a perfect spot where he could bury the bodies without anyone suspecting him.

The missing people in the town were never found and the cases were simply closed. Because who would even check the garden of an elderly couple in their 80s who lived in a secluded house? After all, you were his. And he could and would go to any lengths to make sure you stayed his.

[shuenkio]

Kissing I hope they catch us | 💋

Paring: Whipped!Sunghoon x m!reader

Genre: fluffy, very fluffy?

Cw: just a pure hidden feeling.

Summary: He wants to brag about you to the whole campus.

Non proof read.

Words: 1.2k

English is not my first language!

Being friends with Sunghoon was not an easy move, since he's quite popular because of his charm, especially his face. You'll also find him very attractive as a boy yourself; he looks cold on the outside, but all his friends have said otherwise. He's actually timid, which gives you another reason to get close to him even more; curiosity could kill the cat, they say. 

 

He's the heartthrob of the campus; whenever he walks, he can grab all the attention with his presence. Why would he be a college student when he could make millions of bucks by posing in front of the camera? 

 

Later on, as the times passed, you decided to experience new things by joining a club, and it's a music club. You've always been passionate about it; you love singing and playing instruments such as the piano, electric guitar, and violin. Not only that, you're also fond of dancing, based on the club's requirements. 

 

You're thinking students would choose other clubs besides music because it's less popular. And there's more thrilling, excited, and amazing clubs out there than just playing an instrument while singing. 

 

You open the music club room to fill out your application, but not until your gaze lands on someone you've always wanted to say hi to, Sunghoon Park. 

 

Despite being stunned on the spot at the doorway, you, yourself, have already grabbed everyone's eyes toward you. In return, Sunghoon moved his lip muscle, smiling softly at you. 

 

You snap out before dragging your feet to the leader, known as Jungwon. He was a friendly student, though; you know him since he's the same year as you. He will take your paper and inspect your answers. While he's busy, he then introduces you to the other members who are standing there doing nothing.

 

You move shyly, greeting them by asking for a handshake. It was normal with the other; nevertheless, when your hand lands on Sunghoon's palm, you find yourself on the edge of exploding. Why is his hand so cold yet so calm? A red blurry blush spread across your face; you couldn't help it at the moment; you've met the campus's celebrity. They wouldn't lie when they said Sunghoon is an iceman on the outside, because in reality, he's friendly and talkative to those who approach him first. 

 

And since then, the music club has been completed with you. The name of the group is "ENH." Connection and passion mixed together created a temporary group of artists. 

 

Hanging out was not enough; Jungwon wanted everyone to stick together always, so he asked us to move into his mansion that his grandparents left just for him. 

Your mind was blown to the fact, surprised at his statement, but you wouldn't mind making music together without leaving anyone. 

 

To do that, you have to get close with them first, get more comfortable with them, and have a conversation with them in order to grow closer so you won't be awkward with your surroundings. It's also beneficial for the charming guy since he's timid. 

 

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. By breathing in the same air, you regret your decision to befriend Sunghoon, whom you thought was an angel on the inside. As a matter of fact, once he got comfortable with you, he began to show his true color. Not only is he wild, but he's also a really loud introvert you've never seen in your entire life. 

 

He said, "I don't like skin ships, eh?" That was back in the day, as you asked him, and in reality, he's super duper clingy like Golden Retriever, but in a calmer version.

He only acts crazy when you're alone with him. He would randomly hug you back, cuddle in the same bed, take care of you secretly, and give you cheeks a kiss out of the blue with his non-sense mumble, "Just because.". 

 

You're also finding those very weird; you don't go and question him about whether he likes you by making sweet gestures like friends would; however, his signals and behavior speak a different language as he keeps getting more and more suspicious. 

 

You gather the courage to speak to him personally, somewhere private, one day. Randomly, you asked him to meet you at the music club room since all the other members were already running for their schedules, leaving only him and you on campus, having a free period, coincidentally. 

 

While waiting for him, you take a seat as you move your fingertip, tapping the piano note as far as you remember, and playing an elegant song by" by ENH.

 

As you trace down your palm, still focus on playing until you finish with the last final note. When you heard a clapping sound behind your back, You turn your head to the sauce, revealing Sunghoon, who was standing with a bubbly grin on his handsome face. 

 

"Bravo teddy bear, that was incredible."

He moved his feet to your place, and he then pressed a big hug as a greeting. 

 

"You said you wanted to ask me something private?" He said, pulling out of the embrace slowly, looking at you with his lovely eyes, as if you were the most precious thing ever. 

You take a deep breath and assemble your strength to ask him about your soaking thought that had no answer.

 

"Would you be mad if I went straight to the point?" You spoke, throwing your hands together at the back. He raised one of his eyebrows in return, oblivious to your question.

 

"Why would I be mad at someone as cute as you, Mn? Go on, hit me  up." He replies without any awkwardness, giggling under his throat at what will come at him as you have a flashback to the time when he couldn't even ask you to pass the water. 

 

"Did you like me or not? I don't care what you would think of me as gay or whatever, but I want a real answer." You stated that you were seeking his answer to your unanswered. 

Sunghoon was rubbing his chin and pouting his lip before he unexpectedly took a quick peek at your lip. 

 

"This should be enough for you; don't be afraid to tell me if you want more. Details." He folded his hand after he left, and you zipped your mouth. He careless his lip, still having those quick kisses against your pretty kissable lip. 

 

You're standing there, unable to move an inch; not only has he left you shocked, he's also left you hanging still. Is he playing with you or is this for real? 

 

"Y-you... Hmm... So you like me? How much? Don't tell me you are playing with my feelings!" Concerned about your own feelings, his quick kiss is still fresh on your lips, but you brush it off as you mumble again. This feels untrue in no way.

 

"If I say I'm actually obsessed with you, would you believe it?" 

 

"...hell nah" 

 

"Exactly. You won't believe it, although I want to shout at the whole school that you're my boyfriend."

 

"What are you saying, Hyung? Don't joke with me!!" Your face was catching fire at the moment, processing the words that left his mouth. There's no way he likes you, yet his gesture already proves it. 

 

"Whenever they like it or not, I want to show you off that I want you to be my boyfriend!! I want to brag to everyone about you, Teddy Bear." 

 

"Please accept my love, I—like—you, and I'm sorry~ ijbol." 

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥🗣️ bare with me with this one 😔👊 I suddenly write this when I heard Agora hill, no plan. Fluffy Sunghoon fic let's go 🫨

🗣️ crd to all pic&dividers especially anitalenia for dividers!

[enris]

CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?

synopsis after a year, jake finally earns your father’s blessing. (even if that meant breaking his bank account)

pairing sim jaeyun x f! reader

warnings this is not proofread! i apologize for any mistakes

word count 1.5k+

note first ever official post on tumblr 🥹 and i’m starting it with a slightly long one…bare with me 😔 i hope you enjoy reading, feedback is highly appreciated as i am still kind of new to writing! and of course, if it wasn’t obvious from the title, this is inspired by the song Rude by Magic!

“CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?” you watched as jake asked your father the same question, once again. you’ve already told him countless times to not worry about whether your father accepts him or not, but he just can’t seem to live without getting your father’s blessing. so now he made it his whole life mission to get his blessing.

you were watering your precious plants as you heard your dad rejecting him, again.

“my answer is still no.”

the expression left on your boyfriend’s face was just unbearable to see. it almost looked like he was about to cry any second now.

“dad, what’s so hard about accepting him? can’t you tell he’s a nice guy…” you say, trying to convince him yourself, but nothing was working.

“yn, you are way too young to be getting married right now, you hear me? this is unacceptable behavior. and you, young mister,” your father turned to jake who was already staring at him with puppy eyes, “you are not marrying my daughter, you get it? you have been asking me this same question for the past YEAR and it’s been bothering me ever since then. please, leave immediately.”

“what do you mean i’m too young? dad, i graduate from college in 2 months!” you say, but all you got in return was a head shake. you looked over to jake who shrugged back at you.

“yeah, and who’s the one who refused to dorm in? let alone going overseas, you threw a tantrum because you wanted to stay here for college!” your father argued back after a few moments.

you gasped as jake couldn’t hide his smile, “dad!”

“yn, come on, i wanna take you to this new restaurant that opened up.” jake smiled at you as he held his hand out, signaling for you to hold it.

“eh—? young boy, you better not do anything to my daughter, you hear me!? i’m not giving you my blessing for a reason! and you, young girl, you better be home before dark! i can’t stand it when you try to sneak back into the house at 1am…”

“what? you could hear me?” you ask, suddenly remembering all the times you’ve came back home late at night. i guess all the struggles for staying quiet doesn’t matter anymore.

before you could say anything else, your dad went back inside of the house, leaving you dumbfounded.

“i mean—how could he just say that and leave..?! this whole time i’ve been extra careful to not wake him…but he heard me this whole time?!” you couldn’t believe this whole situation, and turned back to your boyfriend.

“well, at least you don’t need to worry about being loud…?” he nervously smiled at you as you stared at him.

you took a deep breath in, “let’s just go to this restaurant. i’m starving.”

you and jake arrived at the recently opened restaurant and were shocked on how busy it was, despite being new. luckily, you guys got a table pretty fast.

“wow, even their menus are pretty.” you say as you scanned through all the foods that were available.

“yeah, they are.” jake responds, but he wasn’t looking at the menu. his eyes were on you as you were looking at what to order.

“hello! may i start off with your drinks for you today?” a waiter soon came over to your table and pulled out her pen and notepad.

“ah yeah, we’ll just take a water.” you say and watched as she wrote it down.

“awesome! are you guys ready to order?” she continues to ask, and you looked over at jake who nodded with a smile.

“uh, i’ll have this pasta please. what are you gonna order?” you turn to your boyfriend who was still scanning over the menu.

“i’ll take the same as her.” he says and the waiter writes down both of your guys’ orders before collecting the menus.

“alright, i’ll be back with your waters and your food will be our shortly after!”

as the waiter left your guys’ table, jake turned to you, his face more serious than before. but of course, what he said was not serious, at all.

“so, how should i suck up to your father?” he leaned in closer to you as he asked.

“what?” you were taken aback from the sudden question he had asked you, “what do you mean?”

jake’s eyes wandered off a bit as he leaned back into his seat again, “well it’s obvious he doesn’t want me to marry you…so i need to suck up to him, don’t i? what does he like? i need to buy him something don’t i? or do i need to show him im a good person…what do i do?”

“woah woah, calm down…what’s all this rush for? you’re acting like your gonna propose to me as soon as we graduate or something.” you say, and you can see the expression of jake’s face change immediately.

“ahaha, i just wanna make sure your father accepts me!” he chuckled nervously, though you can see the sweat dripping down forehead.

“calm down babe. if you are that desperate to get my father’s blessing then you do have to throw a little money around for him..”

“how much money are we talking? if it’s something expensive like gucci or…” jake paused as he noticed the expression on your face. even though you didn’t say anything, it was almost obvious you were telling him he needed to buy something expensive.

jake cleared his throat as he looked at the specific item, “wow…your father is an expensive guy isn’t he?” he scoffed, his hand covering his mouth out of pure shock.

“his birthday is coming up soon…if you buy this for him im almost completely sure his whole perspective on you would change.” you say, and he almost couldn’t even believe you.

“shit, i really gotta buy this specific rolex for him?”

“yeah, he’s been dying to have this specific one.”

all your boyfriend could do was nod continuously as he stared at the price of the watch.

he clapped his hands together, “all right, i’ll get this for him then!” he says with a forced smile. “my bank account will be crying tonight…” he mumbled before walking away to get a person for help.

you rushed over to him, “hey, you don’t have to do this you know? my fathers blessing surely doesn’t mean that much to you, does it? you can just get his favorite food instead.”

jake turned over to you, “baby. if i get him something expensive, especially if it’s something he’s always wanted, he would definitely give me his blessing. if i don’t have his blessing that means i can’t marry you, and i want you to be by my side forever.”

before you could even say anything else jake planed a soft kiss on your lips before calling over a worker.

“do you think he’ll say yes now?” jake asked you before he head inside of the house.

“i mean i sure hope he would…” you responded.

“how about this; if he doesn’t give me his blessing then i’ll kidnap you and after we graduate college we travel overseas and we can get married there!”

you scoffed, “you’re serious about this aren’t you?”

“of course, my girlfriend WILL become my wife and i’ll make sure of it!”

as soon as you guys were about to head inside of the house, your dad opened the door for you. you were shocked, but definitely not as much as your boyfriend who was beside you.

“everybody is getting ready to eat dinner now, what’s taking you so long?”

“uh—hello! yn’s father..” jake waved nervously at your dad who just stared at him. “happy birthday! i got you a gift.”

“oh? what is this?” your father dug his hand inside of the bag and was met with a rolex box. he gasped as he realized what it was.

“it may not be the right time to ask this question considering the special occasion so i apologize in advance. but, CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, please?”

you were scared looking at your father’s expression and noticed his grip on the rolex tightening. out of impulse you spatted out a few sentences.

“please dad, he’s really a nice guy. he treats me so well and i love him so much, you don’t understand how much i want him to stay in my life. if you don’t give him your blessing then i wi—”

“silly boy, is this your way of sucking up to me? huh? just because you bought me a rolex i’ve been wanting for ages you expect me to give my blessing to you just like that?” you and jake were both shocked at how your father responded.

“dad—”

“it definitely worked.”

jake’s eyes immediately widened, “wait, really?! i have your blessing?”

“i’ve been testing you all along to see how good of a guy you are and you definitely exceeded my expectations. treat my daughter well, sim jaeyun. im lending you my trust and hope you protect yn.”

you couldn’t hide your smile and so couldn’t jake. you guys both hugged each other before he thanked your father.

“thank you! i promise i will keep your daughter safe. as long as she’s with me only good things shall happen to her!”

© enris 2024. please do not copy, translate, or repost

xtra omg i’m sorry if this seemed messy 😭 again i’m new to doing things like these so feedback is appreciated!

[zablife]

This look he has just reeks of touch my wife one more time and I'll raise hell. Or reader is shy (and married to Tommy) and is trying not to be rude + moving to stop the touches on her arm. Tommy sees if they keep doing it before he intervenes

Tommy watching you do just anything at home

John pretending to read but watching you tell a someone off. Also him waiting to see if the guy does something

Sorry 😅idk what to do with myself

Tysm for the ask, darl! I love all of these amazing ideas! Protective Tommy makes me feral and that look in the 2nd GIF is pure sunshine. However, I've written loads of Tommy requests recently so I'll show John some love.

Place Your Bets

"You there!" a mean looking drunk shouted over the din of the betting shop. You didn't bother looking up from your desk as you concentrated on taking a customer's bet over the telephone.

Undeterred, the man slowly clomped toward you, swaying as he walked. He approached wreaking of whisky and body odor and you hung up as quickly as possible to shoo him away. Rising from the desk you motioned to the back of the queue, closer to the doors where the stench would be carried away with the breeze. "You'll have to wait your turn," you informed him tersely.

"I know you," he said with a sneer, showing off a row of rotten, yellow teeth. "You was the lass who took my bet last week."

You turned away, unsure how the poor sod had placed his bet and not caring in the slightest.

"I'm talking to you!" he shouted and you turned with fire dancing in your eyes as he dared to continue. "You gave me that rubbish tip about Monaghan Boy!" he said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Gonna let your missus handle that one?" a secretary asked as she passed John's desk.

John lowered his paper as he shrugged, "Why not? She can take care of herself better than half the men here," he said, voice swelling with pride. He grinned to himself as he thought of all the times you'd bested him in an argument and counted himself lucky someone else was on the receiving end of your temper for once.

"He must have been off his tits! Came in dead last," the man grumbled to you.

"You'd know something about that, eh?" you countered, snickering as you pushed past him to gather a few papers.

"What did you say to me?," the man asked, puffing out his chest.

"Oh, God, this is going to be good," John said with a slight giggle. He could tell by your folded arms and the way your foot began to tap rapidly against the floorboards you were properly angry now.

You whipped around, annunciating your words as if he were a complete idiot, because he was. "I said you're a fucking drunk who made a shit bet so don't come in here and throw a wobbler like a bloody child!"

Sitting back to watch the drama unfold from behind his paper, John snickered as he listened to you give the man a tongue lashing. The man retaliated calling you a cunt.

John sucked in a breath. "Ooh, I wouldn't call her that, mate!" John commented to no one in particular, shaking his head. He kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward slightly to see how you would return the insult.

You wagged a finger in the man's face, half his size, but berating him as though you were equally matched. "Call me that once more and I'll cut ya, ya filthy animal! Don't fuck with me!"

That's when John saw the man reach out to grab you by the arm and he was on his feet in seconds, pounding the floorboards menacingly. He pinned the man to the wall, narrowing his eyes at the bastard who dared lay a hand on you, asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man could only gurgle in response as John held him by the throat.

You brushed your sleeve, noting the dirt he'd left behind with a frown before collecting yourself and lightly placing a hand on John's shoulder. He turned to look at you, eyes softening, but grip remaining firm.

"Can I borrow your blade, darling? Left mine in me other skirt," you said, voice as thick and sweet as honey.

"Of course, love," he said, handing it over with a quick kiss.

"Wait, wh-what's sh-she going to do with that?" the man stuttered, too afraid to move.

"Cut your balls off, I reckon," John replied. Breaking out into a shit eating grin, he reached up to smack the man on the cheek a couple of times. Then he pulled back to take in the look of horror as he snorted, "Nah, just take your eyes. She's a blinder after all and she did warn ya not to fuck with her."

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[yorshie]

11 & 10 with Raph, a sort of confession\first kiss type of deal please! I need my boy to discover being loved.

-justalotoffanfic ❤️

Oooooooooooooo. First kiss. I think you might like reading this if you haven't yet, But Also Thank You for Requesting on Blurb Day! Let's have Pining Soft Raph to fight off those Mikey Brooms for a bit, eh? (edit: uh..... I guess this turned out more pining Reader and hopeless kiss. oops) also, sorry i forgot to do this with the other side blog requests but @justalotoffanfiction

Being with Raph wasn't always....a straight line. The curve of progress sometimes doubled back on itself, or stalled for a bit before resuming at a glacial place.

It was easy enough to understand, you thought, watching him move purposefully through his workout, racking weights and eyeing the amount before he slotted himself underneath on the inclined bench. There were things you'd probably never know about, but the few big ticket items you had heard of left several things completely clear.

The Turtles had been hunted, and could be so again in the future. They weren't human, and people sometimes reacted badly to that. And the last thing, probably the root of your problem with Raph, was that there would always be someone 'better' for you, in his mind.

Someone that didn't live in the sewers, that didn't have a shell and a different amount of fingers, someone that didn't tower over you or place themselves in danger over and over again.

He was stubborn, you thought with an exhale, watching him knock off a weight from each side and slot himself under the bar once more, the suicide set causing his muscles to twitch under the exertion.

You watched the tensed line of a vein curling over his tricep, the little hollow below his elbow dipping in and out of existence with each flex. Your eyes followed the strain of his deltoid where it disappeared under his plastron-

"Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?" His gruff voice called, words bitten short from exertion, and you blinked, pulled from your line of perusal.

"What?" You asked back, shifting in your seat, playing innocent even as you drank in his figure again.

"There's something rattling around in that pretty head of yours," He paused, knocked off another pair of weights, and you followed the beads of sweat running down the back of his elbow without conscious thought. "Gotta be something you're not telling me, isn't it?"

Your mouth pulled to the side, not quite a frown, not quite a smirk, and you finally stood when he paused once more, chest heaving as he re-racked the bar and glanced your way.

You could be stubborn, you reminded yourself, but another little voice echoed the words, sounding a lot more sure of itself than the immediate bravado. You could also push too hard.

"I just..." You trailed off, but Raph ducked a shoulder and leaned forward, resting his shell against the bar. He lifted one eye ridge towards you, clearly waiting.

When you still couldn't get the words out, he gestured you over with a jerk of his head, repeated the motion with more sass when you took too long.

When you finally stood in front of him, eyes taking in how his plastron swelled with each breath, the obvious way his arms had all but doubled from the exercise, you swallowed heavily.

Raph snorted at your ogling, one large hand coming up to tuck against your waist. "I uh," He tapped his fingers, slowly, against the back of your hip, obviously thinking, " I don't.... I really don't wanna end up doing the wrong thing here, sweetheart, but-"

He broke off, staring at your face, and you couldn't care less who moved first, just that you did-

And you were both stubborn idiots, it seemed, because you both bobbed when one should have weaved, and the first time you missed completely, lips nudging along cheeks instead of finding each other.

Your fingers found his jaw halfway through his eye roll, and his hand cupped the back of your head through exasperation more so than any tender feeling, but the tiny well of ire at how stubborn he was disappeared the second his lips landed true.

They were wide, and soft, and you could tell he was trying so hard to keep it sweet. After the third tentative scrub you finally lost your patience and opened your mouth to lick against his lower lip, and he pulled back with a grunt and a look in his eyes that promised retribution.

You grinned at him, feeling drunk, and a little bit stubborn yourself.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

[blueberry-pride]

How do you think trey, Idia, rook, leona and kalim would deal with having a sweet and cute s/o who is convinced the boys are the cute ones of the relationship and s/o is puzzled when other people don’t agree with the guys being the cute one? They’re convinced other people have bad tastes. As hcs please :))

Don't Deny It Babe~

warnings: Berry's grammar, semi proof-read and like two curse words

Berry: I greatly apologize for those who have been waiting for these since February from the 100 followers event. And thank you all for the overwhelming support from the last post, love you guuys 🥰

"Are you sure about that babe? I mean..." He chuckled as he scratched the back of nis neck.

Trey would be as confused as the others at first when he heard you claim that he's the cute one in the relationship

Would just have a sheepish smile as he rolls with your antics cuz why not? you're not hurtin anybody but he does get shy when you would debate about it ESPECIALLY with the other Heartslabyul members

Moments like these happened often, which would gradually led to Trey feeling more comfortable and started teasing you about it when the opportunity presents itself. like putting a dash of flour on your nose to have flustered or even calling you 'cutie' at times~

I also see as this goes on that he'd be the one to tell Heartlsabyul or among close friends that you're cute just to see you're reaction. (goodluck (Y/N)!)

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked Pillow, ain't no way in hell I'm...'cute'"

He's the type who wholeheartedly disagrees about your statement more than others. Just imagine Savanaclaw. Ruggie was legit concerned about you when you told him.

He'd do that thing where whenever you guys are walking around campus, his arm is always draped on your shoulders just in case if ever the convo is directed at him being the cute one, he'd clamp your mouth and say farewell to whomever you're both talking with

I also see that when you're trying to convince him, he'd squish your cheeks so you're mouth would be puckered as another way to shut you up (may or may not lead to a kiss) He'd look into your eyes and smirk.

"Now who's the cute one now huh~?"

Even if he realizes it or is just in plain denial (stubborn ass) He'll slowly just let you go with whatever you're spouting about him cuz honestly he likes it when you debate about it ESPECIALLY if it just so happens to be with Vil. "Yeah Vil, don't you see I'm fuckin AdOraBlE?"

"Eh? Sunshine, you think I'm cute?" Kalim's eyes lit up as he looked at you to which you affirmed with a chuckle. Kalim stood up and ran towards the kitchen. "JAMIL , (Y/N) THINKS I'M CUTE!"

You know, we know, the entirety of NRC knows, he's one golden boi whenever you call him cute or talk about it with others.

Give some moral support to Jamil cuz he's gonna be hearing this everyday from now on. "Hey I know we have this important dorm leader meeting to attend to in a min but (Y/N) called me cute again toda-"

When it comes to people that says otherwise, he's likely to pull you out of it before it drags on. He'd chuckle as he drags you back to Scarabia for some afternoon snacks to distract you~

Would start giving you more compliments but not the ones that are generic like "you look good today" but rather he'd say "Y'know I really like it when you do this little quirk of yours. I find it really interesting cuz it's well...you" all said with a genuine smile and a soft gaze. (ma heart)

"Ma belle my heart swoons over your flattery~" Rook smiles as a faint blush grows across his cheeks. I see him being flustered but is just really good at hiding cuz internally he's like 'I've been complimenting other people all my life but now?? You came along??'

Would lovingly watch you argue if people say otherwise. Cuz despite you claiming that he's the cute one, why not you AND him? well just between you two anyway and who cares what other people think!

He's in it for the dramatics both in private or in public so when you compliment him, he'd like put a hand on his chest, go down on one knee and act as if he's part of a play~

you two test Vil and Leona's patience istg

Whenever it's time to print out his photographs of the two of you, he'd write little captions on it "I'm the cute one, she says~" or "there are 2 cuties in this picture." It's corny but this man is in love knowing that you see him that way <3

All I could think of at first is that this man would have war flashbacks to that time he got abducted by Eliza

"EH??" Idia exclaimed. Straight up denial like Leona but I see this fire son of a- would just start talking in immense speed and list down all the possibilities on why he's not.

Remember that one groovy in ghost bride where his hair turns slightly pink cuz everyone was flustering him? yeah his locks went from #3a8df7 to #FA86c4 through majority of your guys' relationship

Though... that's in public. But when its just the two of you in his room, he'll slowly warm up to your claims (along with some persistence from his bro Ortho like him randomly leaving sticky notes with the words 'you're cute, stop it.' printed on it)

"Heh,I mean I guess..." His cocky smile grows. "My archetype in an anime or a video game would be seen as cute~ would that mean I'm your Oshi then (Y/N)-shi~?"

[pacifymebby]

God i just had the worst dream experience with both a sleep paralysis and a lucid nightmare right after! This is a totally self indulgent ask, as i am seeking comfort in your writings rather than in someone i know, so i don't mind you not answering it! Could i request PB boys (any of them you are good with, really) reaction to a s/o who had a similar experience and is lowkey scared to sleep again (totally not me.)? Take care, and stay healthy! Thank you!

Oh angel I just wanna give you a hug!!! sleep paralysis is the worst and I totally understand you not wanting to go back to sleep again after that!!! I'm sorry I didn't answer this right away I've been pretty under the weather and not really writing or doing much for like two weeks. But I hope you can find some comfort in this anyway!

Tommy

🌿 Is familiar with traumatic nightmares, he often has ptsd flashback nightmares to his time in the tunnels, horrid nightmares which leave him shaken and haunted... for himself he has rules for coping, he tells himself to ignore them, to swallow down the fear and rise above it. He expects himself to be a man who just gets on with things.

🌿 However when it comes to you those rules go out of the window. Tommy hates to see you upset for whatever reason and when he wakes to find you tossing and turning, crying in your sleep, he can't stand to just leave you.

🌿 So he wakes you as gently as possible, he lies down nice and close to you, his warm breath on your cheek as he holds your shoulder gently and whispers your name in your ear. "Y/n, y/n angel wake up for me now eh, time to wake up..." he's being ever so soft, knowing that you're going to wake up scared anyway, not wanting to make it worse.

🌿 When you wake with a sudden fright his arms lock around you and he bundles you up straight away, he doesn't give you time to be afraid because he's wrapped you up and cradled you to his chest, your body pressed against his as he strokes your hair and kisses your head.

🌿 "S'alright now angel I've got you, you're safe y/n, was just a dream love, just a dream..." he'd hush you with his soothing words, press a long firm kiss to your forehead and wait for you to calm down a little. When he feels your shaking subdued a little he pulls away, strokes your cheek with his fingers and looks down at you.

🌿 He's trying to read your mind, trying to work out what your dream was about, trying to work out what you need from him in that moment. But you just nuzzle back into him, trying to hide away because you're a little embarrassed to have been so scared by your dream...

🌿 Tommy however won't let you be brave, thats his job, it isn't yours. So he pulls away again, caresses your cheek with his knuckles and then brushes your hair from your eyes and looks into them once more.

🌿 "Talk to me love, tell me all about it..." "It really wasn't that bad Tommy just gave me a..." "Hush now angel," he sounds tired and like he's all too familiar with this part of the conversation, "tell me all about it love, I wanna know... don't need to be embarrassed with me eh, not with your Tom..."

🌿 So you do as he tells you and you tell him all about it, voice trembling because thinking about it again is making you relive some of the fear. But Tommy is there for you the whole time, laying soft little kisses on you, your cheeks, your hair, on your nose.

🌿 You can't deny how safe and treasured he makes you feel, how warm you feel when you're all wrapped up in his arms. He offers you all the reassurance that you need.

🌿 "Was just a dream sweetheart, I'm here now eh, I've got you, I'll look after you, keep you safe, you're alright now my love..."

🌿 You're too scared to go back to sleep however and although Tommy is tired he doesn't want to leave you fearful and alone in the dark, so he props the two of you up and turns the lamp on. He reaches for his spectacles, (those wee specs are so cute man!) and the book on the bedside table, its your favourite and he keeps it there specifically for occasions such as this...

🌿 and then, with you resting against his chest, one arm wrapped around you, holding you safe and secure, he starts to read to you. His voice is soft and gentle but sleepy too and the lethargy in his voice as he reads to you is enough to lull you gently back to sleep.

🌿 In the morning you wake up in the same position, the book abandoned on the quilt next to Tommys limp hand, he's still sleeping, his spectacles balanced on his nose. So you wake him with a little kiss as you remove them and place them on the bedside table, then the two of you curl up together beneath the covers and go back to sleep.

Alfie

🐻 I don't know why right, but I can't imagine that Alfie really gets horrible dreams, which is odd considering all the horrific things he's seen and done. I also just don't really think he gets scared the same way "normal" people get scared... The only person I think he really fears is Tommy Shelby and if he was dreaming about him well, he's not going to admit to that is he...

🐻 Anyway, just because Alfie doesn't really get bad dreams doesn't mean he isn't going to be there for you when you wake up frightened in the night. At first you're hesitant to wake him... your Alfie isn't scared of anything, he's so strong and fearless and you think that he'll think less of you for being scared...

🐻 So at first you just let him sleep, you sit there knees hugged to your chest in the bed, shivering right next to him as he sleeps. You don't want him to wake up and find you crying but at the same time all you want is one of his bear hugs..

🐻 And when you finally give in you only have to say his name once, your little whimper of fear, and he's wide awake, pushing himself up, looking around the room, reaching for the gun he keeps in his bedside table because he thinks something terrible has happened...

🐻 But when he asks you what's the matter and you shrink away, apologising saying "had a bad dream..." he places the gun down carefully and turns to you with the softest expression.

🐻 He'd let out a long dramatic sigh and open his arms up for you, rolling his eyes, teasing you but not teasing you too much. Just enough to leave a shy smile on your lips as he welcomes you into his loving embrace. He just wants to hold you tight and offer you all the comfort in the world.

🐻 "Now then Ziskeit, just what kind of bad are we talkin about here yeah? Paint me a picture... are we talking teeny tiny, just a little bit spooky bad, or are we talking real dark, horrifying, enough to make even the coldest, meanest man shiver..." and you'd giggle and look up at him with a cheeky smile, already feeling better just for being in his arms, "but nothing scares you Alfie.."

🐻 He'd chuckle and then and shake his head, squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger affectionately. "That true is it poppet?"

🐻 Even if you don't want to talk about it Alfie is going to coax the whole terrifying tale from you so that he can pick it apart until it's no longer scary at all. He'll point out all the discrepancies and will constantly interrupt you with things like, "Oh so you were all alone were you well... you definitely don't need to worry about that do you cause me yeah, mean, paranoid old brute that I am yeah, I don't never let you out my sight do I...so you know this dream ain't ever gonna come true just for that reason alone don't you ziskeit..."

🐻 Whatever evil was chasing you and threatening you in that dream Alfie is not going to let you fear it and when you tell him about the sleep paralysis he really feels for you, and gets really serious.

🐻 "Now you listen very carefully to me now little ziskeit, very carefully yeah... close your eyes and listen carefully and then lock what I have to say to you somewhere away in that pretty little head of yours, somewhere you won't ever lose it or forget it, somewhere you can find it even when you're sleepin right... Whenever you're asleep I'm right beside you yeah, always right here with you watchin over you like the ugliest guardian angel you ever did see right... and I ain't never, never ever yeah, never gonna let anyone hurt you, never let any harm come your way... whenever I'm around you're safe and listen to me now my sweet girl, I'm always, always gonna be around yeah?"

🐻 He will ask you what he just said, so that you have to say it back to him, "whenever I'm sleepin you're always watchin over me and you're never gonna leave me on me own.." you're pretty shy about saying it back but until Alfie is certain you understand and won't ever forget it, he's gonna keep you there, his hand holding your cheek to keep you looking up at him, making you repeat it until he's certain you believe him.

🐻 The added effect that this brings out your shy smile is just a bonus to him.

🐻 He will very begrudgingly invite Cyril up onto the bed to rest his head in your lap and then he'll remind you that although Cyril might be old and soft, he makes a very fierce guard dog and he loves you very much so you can be sure he'll always protect you too.

🐻 Alfie will make you feel so safe and secure. If you're scared to sleep he'll sit up with you, stroking his hand through your hair, telling you all the reassuring things he can think, his voice meandering through that strange tangle of thoughts in his fathomless mind, soothing you to sleep so slowly you don't even realise you're drifting off until you've woken up the next morning cuddled up in his arms.

Arthur

🍂 Gets fucking horrid awful terrifying nightmares and usually it's you soothing him, cradling his head to your chest as you tangle your fingers in his hair and whisper soothing things to him about how you love him, how he's safe, how you've got him and it's all alright now...

🍂 And Arthur has always felt s little bad for that, a little like it makes him less of a man that you're always having to sooth and look after him. Even if you do reassure him that when someone's been through the horrors he survived nightmares are normal and they don't make you any less of a man for being scared to sleep...

🍂 Anyway, when you awake with a start, waking both yourself and him up with your scream, your hand clutched over your mouth as you flinch awake sat bolt upright in the bed, heart racing because you'd been trying to scream all throughout your dream and found yourself unable to make a sound...

🍂 Arthur is torn because first things first, he's worried about you, he's never seen you look so frightened and you really don't look well but...

🍂 He's also a little nervous because this is his bog opportunity to look after you for a change, his time to comfort you and be the strong and brave one in a time of crisis... he wants to be perfect doesn't want to let you down.

🍂 so at first he's a little clumsy, a little anxious when he reaches out to you... your scream set his own adrenaline soaring and he can't deny that he's struggling to calm his own fight or flight response down too...

🍂 But he reaches for your hand across the mattress, tries to keep his voice soft and low... it comes out gravelly and thick with sleep but it will have to do... "Y/n sweetheart.." he starts to say but when his hand brushes yours you flinch and turn to him with wide terrified eyes as if you're not sure you're really out of the nightmare yet.

🍂 "S'only me my darlin, shh girl it's only me you're alright love it's just me an you yeah, you're safe, at home, tucked up in your bed with your Arthur eh?" He's copying you almost word for word, these are the words you always say to him when he wakes from a nightmare in the dark and believes for a second he's still in the tunnels under France.

🍂 "Oh...oh my god Arthur I'm.." you'd start but before you can get your words out a sob would surprise you and you'd burst into tears throwing your arms around him. He'd be stunned at first, struggling to move for all of a second as he processes what you're doing and remembers what he needs to do next. Then he closes his arms around you and squeezes you tight against his chest.

🍂 "There there sweetheart, it's alright my darlin was just a bad dream eh, nothin can hurt you now cause I'm here yeah, ain't no monster or ghost that ain't scared of Arthur Shelby eh love?"

🍂 He won't need to ask you what the dream was about because you're always your most fierce and most vulnerable with Arthur, it's how you've managed to get him to open up to you. By sharing everything with him. So in your terrified and sobbing sorry state you'd spill everything to him, telling him all about the nightmare, about how you'd been trying to scream, how you were so scared and how you were trying so hard to scream but no sound was coming out and no one could hear you...

🍂 He'd listen to you with his serious face on but he would spare you the overbearing serious face then, instead choosing to kiss your cheek and offer you a little smile as he sighs, "Well my darlin I certainly heard you just then... reckon you woke the whole farm up with that one love," he'd kiss you again, bury his face in your neck and kiss you there too, his beard tickling your skin, his playful interlude painting a smile on your teary face.

🍂 And when he sees you smiling he's so so proud of himself because that means he must be doing well, he must be cheering you up and comforting you the way you always manage to help him.

🍂 He might... might try that other thing you do for him when he's wound up and he needs a distraction after a bad dream... if you seem like you're not really settling down, if you seem like you're still thinking about your dream...

🍂 He'll kiss you again, and shift you in his arms so that your sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around you... he's still whispering about how you don't need to be scared, was just a dream, he's gonna look after you now... and as he's talking he trails his hands down your body, dips his head to trail kisses over your neck and your shoulder so that your eyes flutter shut and a little sigh escapes you...

🍂 He'll let his hands distract you from your bad dream whilst he mumbles in your ear all those comforting things, bringing you to a rather comforting high whilst he tells you, "I've got you my darlin, your Arthur's got you eh, don't need to be scared my sweetheart I'll look after you..."

John

🌼 Not a fan of seeing his girl upset, not a fan of seeing her scared... and he isn't exactly used to it either because you're always putting on the fierce and brave mammy act in front of the kids. Always claiming that nothing scares you so that your little ones won't be scared.

🌼 And when you wake up after a bad dream and you shake him awake, he's a little grumpy because he doesn't like being woken up in the middle of the night. He's also suddenly very worried because you sound scared and that could mean something awful has happened, the family could be under attack...

🌼 So when he shoots up and grabs the gun he keeps under the bed, his sudden movement only scares you more and you stifle a shriek as you scramble back and hit your back on the headboard.

🌼 "Shh love, what is it tell me what the matter is, what did you wake me for eh theres no one here?" he frowns turning around, his expression a little harsher than it really should be, he's definitely a little disgruntled about having been woken up in the middle of the night - even though he's used to midnight disturbances when the kids have bad dreams.

🌼 "Sorry John, shit sorry its nothin no ones here don't worry go back to sleep..." you'd sigh trying to shake your own fear off and pull yourself together. But he's still grumbling and, in truth, a little concerned because you look all twitchy and nervous like a frightened rabbit. "Right well flower, if there ain't no one here p'rhaps you'd like to tell me what you woke me up for eh?" he's talking to you like you're in trouble but the look in his eyes is that of amusement, teasing... so you know you're not.

🌼 You admit it eventually, blushing when you tell him that you had a nightmare, playing down how scared you were because you like to be brave. And because you play it down John teases you about it, grinning and making a joke at your expense all, "and here I thought you were a brave and fierce mammy who isn't scared of anyone or anything... now all of a sudden you're waking me up in the middle of the night over a little bad dream..." he spider walks his fingers up your arm to tickle you just under your chin, expecting you to smile and laugh but you don't.

🌼 because your nightmare was actually terrifying and now you're upset he's not taking you seriously. So you pout, and tears well up in your eyes and John frowns in confusion, he doesn't understand why you aren't laughing with him, "eh eh what's the matter flower, what's that face for eh? You know am only messing with you love, y'can wake me up whenever you like..."

🌼 And it's his sudden softness which sees you burst into tears, you feel so silly for it but you can't help it and all of a sudden you're crying to him about your horrifying nightmare, "it was the kids John, they got the kids an, an you an, I was trying to save em but I couldn't get to em and and..." He'll cut you off before you can work yourself up into a state over the dream, shushing you so that you don't wake the littlens up, his finger to your lips as he leans in to kiss your cheek.

🌼 He'll put his gun down under the bed back where it belongs and then he'll climb back into bed, sitting up against the headboard and putting his arm around you. He'll coax you into a hug and say he's sorry for teasing you. "That sounds like a 'orrible dream love," his voice is all husky where he's tired and trying to speak softly to you.

🌼 Holds you close to his side and strokes your cheek, kisses your hair and then cups your face in his hand so that you'll look up at him. Uses your tears to draw "war" paint on your face, grinning down at you like a child, "there y'are fuckin beautiful.." When you try to squirm away and wipe your tears away yourself he grumbles at you for ruining his work, "eh come back love come back am not finished, I was gonna give you a moustache next... a biggen like our Arthurs!"

🌼 He will keep at it until you're smiling and giggling with him, the two of you forgetting yourselves in your sudden playful mood so that your giggles wake the kids up and John finds himself being disturbed for the second time that evening.

🌼 Katie is stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide as she tells him she got scared by a noise, "heard someone screaming..." she whispers all frightened until you open your arms up and try to go back to playing the fearless mammy once more.

🌼 But Johns got other ideas and he cuts you off before you can tell Katie that it was just you and her dad being stupid... "That was y/n princess, she had a bad dream and it scared her..." "But y/n ain't scared of anything!" gasps Katie, "you weren't really scared were you y/n?"

🌼 and even though you go to shake your head and tell her that her dads being a rotter, telling tales again John interrupts again pulling Katie up into his lap, deciding that quarter past 3 in the morning is prime time for valuable life lessons with dad...

🌼 "She was Kitty, she was really scared weren't you y/n, cause everyone gets scared every now and again don't they... its good to get scared sometimes love, cause if you're never scared then you never get to be brave do ye..." and suddenly you're realising that this little life lesson he's teaching Katie, is really for you... because he knows you feel embarrassed and silly for getting scared of a bad dream, and he doesn't think you should. "An y'know the scarier the dream the more brave you've gotta be..." "Was your dream really really scary y/n?" Katie's looking at you now, her hands to her cheeks, her eyes all wide in awe of you when you nod your head and say "uhuh, pretty scary yeah..." You're blushing a bit but Johns really pleased and proud of you for being honest with her.

🌼 "So y/n's really really brave then?" asks Katie looking back at her dad who just grins and lets her scramble into your arms to hug you tightly... "Yeah princess, y/n's the bravest mammy in the world..."

🌼 You feel much better having one of the littleuns all cosy in your arms and with Katie tucked up between you and her dad, his arm draped over the two of you all snug and protective you're able to go back to sleep feeling safe and warm.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is generally quite a heavy sleeper once he's awake, its because he's so relaxed about everything, once he really drifts off he's hard to wake up

🍀 however, because generally he sleeps spooning you or with you resting on top of him, his arms wrapped around you, he will stir whenever you stir and often you waking up is enough to wake him up too.

🍀 Which means when you start crying and tossing and turning in your sleep, getting more and more upset, he'd start comforting you and shushing you in his sleep. Both of you still lost to your own separate dreams, his much calmer than yours.

🍀 His arms would tighten their grip around you and he'd nuzzle into you, "shhh little dove, shh," his voice leaking into your nightmare somehow soothing you as you struggle to wake up.

🍀 So when you do wake up, even though it was his comforting words which were guiding you out of your nightmare, he's still sleeping peacefully, his face nuzzled into your neck, his lips mumbling against you. He even presses a little kiss to your skin and for a second you wonder if he's woken up, but he isn't and you realise he's still asleep when his words trail off and stop making sense.

🍀 So you try to lie there very still, try to shut your eyes and go back to sleep, you don't want to ruin his sleep because he really needs to be well rested for his boxing, and you wouldn't want him to be tired when he's doing Blinder work. If something happened to him then you'd blame yourself forever... and actually thats what the dream had been about so you start spiralling...

🍀 You'd get so lost in your catastrophising thoughts, imagining what would happen if he died, how heartbroken you'd be, you're so lost in the thought, already grieving the boy who is perfectly fine, tucked up in bed next to you, that you don't realise you've started to cry, that you've started sniffling and sobbing and that your shaking has woken him up.

🍀 "Little dove what's the matter sweet pea?" he asks, his arms tightening around you as you try to pull away from him and wipe your eyes dry. He'd hold onto you tightly, kissing your cheek, propping himself up on his elbow so that you'd sink closer into his side, lying on your back looking up at him. He'd look down at you with concern in his eyes, his serious expression tugging his brows together.

🍀 He'd catch one of your tears with his thumb and stroke it away, and when you tried to shy away from him, when you tried to roll into him and hide your face against his chest he'd catch you before you could, his hand on your shoulder holding you back, pushing you gently back down into the mattress.

🍀 "Asked you a question little dove," he'd say with a cheeky smile, "cmon sweetheart tell me what's wrong eh, you look sad..." He strokes your shoulder with his hand and then when you sniffle and a bigger sob escapes you he give in, bundles you up in his arms and lets you bury your face in his chest so that you can have a big cry.

🍀 Strokes your hair and hushes you whilst you cry, kisses your head and lets it linger. He's got his serious face on because it's always a serious thing when his little dove is crying.

🍀 Sings you a little folk song thats always made you smile, his voice soft and low, you can hear the little smile in his voice as he sings and it soothes you, paints a little smile on your face too despite your tears and eventually you've calmed enough to tell him what's wrong.

🍀 You're not embarrassed to tell Bonnie about your bad dream, you don't feel the need to put on a brave face in front of him because he's always been so soft with you, always been your fierce protector, always had a way of making you feel small and safe, and not embarrassed to need him...

🍀 And as you talk to him and get sad all over again he listens quietly and scatters you in gentle brushing kisses, stroking your hair and using the corner of the covers to wipe your tears away.

🍀 He'd rest your head on his chest and slowly sink back down so that he's lying on his back head propped up on the pillows and you're leaning against him, him cradling your head to his chest with both hands.

🍀 "S'alright now little dove, m'here an m'gonna look after you yeah, always be here for you, always be safe cause I'll always be here t'protect you won't I?" he'll make you answer that question, he'll tilt your chin up with his fingers so that your gaze meets his when you say "uhuh."

🍀 If you're still too scared to sleep, he'll be very sleepy and his sleepiness will go some way to relaxing you, even if you're scared you'll have that heaviness in your eyes and his yawns will be contagious.

🍀 He'll sit up with you resting against his chest, he'll pull the covers right up and get you snug, and then he'll start whispering that little lullaby folk song to you again to sooth you, his voice sweet and low, a little husky where he's half asleep. And he'll keep singing to you until you're both drifting off together, he'll try to stay awake for as long as you, and he'll make you promise him you'll wake him up if you need him again.

🍀 "I mean it little dove, tell me what're you gonna do if you wake up scared again?" ".... I'll wake you up Bon..." "Promise?" "Promise." He'd kiss you on the forehead, "good girl," and then probably kiss you again, holding you close and snug and safe.

Isaiah

🐀 Does not take your nightmare seriously enough because he's stupid, a dumb man who thinks it's funny to tease his poor girl even when she's scared.

🐀 You wake up terrified, the dream you'd been having had been awful, it was a sleep paralysis one where you couldn't move and you were certain you were going to die... your hearts racing when you wake up and as you shoot bolt up right in bed your hands clasp over your mouth to stifle your scream.

🐀 Which wakes Isaiah up, and he's grumpy about that because he's a man who likes his sleep.

🐀 "What the fuck y/n what're y'doin its the middle of the bloody night..." he'd be mumbling and grumbling, one arm reaching out to try and coax you back down into bed.

🐀 But when you try to speak and a gasp comes out instead he sits up to get qa better look at you. You try to be brave, shaking your head, letting out a little breath, closing your eyes and saying "just a dream, just a bad dream everything's fine,"

🐀 And Isaiah hears you and snorts, can't hold back his stupid little laugh because he can't believe the boldest woman he knows is trying to calm herself down after a bad dream. He can't believe theres a dream you could have had that would scare you enough you'd need calming down.

🐀 "What's this love? Bad dream... surely you ain't scared by a bad dream?" he doesn't really mean it, he's smiling when he says it, grinning until you turn to him with tears in your eyes and he realises that actually you really are upset.

🐀 "Shit love you really are ain't ye... fuckin hell what happened? Did I break up with you or something?" You glare at him, your eyes watery with thick gloopy tears, you want to smack him, want to tell him you'll be the one breaking up with him in a minute if he's not careful, but you're too upset and your mind is still on that terrible dream so instead of hitting him or snapping back with a sharp joke of your own you just burst into tears instead.

🐀 "Shut up Isaiah you stupid prick!" you sob trying to be angry at him but instead being too upset. All you want is a hug and your stupid boyfriends sitting there chuckling at you... thinks this is funny!

🐀 But when you start really crying he stops laughing, or at least tries to because it isn't funny anymore... he just can't help himself, this time his chuckling and his stupid little joke is because he's nervous and trying to back track

🐀 "ah am sorry mousy come here eh love, come here have a cuddle eh you're alright am here..." and though you don't really want a cuddle off him now because he's laughed at you and humiliated you, you let him sit up and wrap his arms around you anyway. He cuddles you into his body and shifts you so that you're sitting in his lap.

🐀 He'd drape the covers around you both and rock you gently, "am sorry love, didn't mean to make you cry eh, didn't realise you were so upset yeah, not like you is it being bothered over a little dream.." "Wasn't just some dream Saiah it was fuckin horrid!" you sob, upsetting yourself more and getting annoyed with yourself for showing him this vulnerable side he doesn't usually get to see.

🐀 "Shhh, I know love, must have been fuckin horrid to scare you eh, usually the other way round..." he's teasing you again now because thats a lie, you're a brave girl, usually pretty fearless, but you certainly don't strike fear into other people. No ones scared of Isaiah's Mousy lass.

🐀 "Don't be stupid Saiah" you mumble nuzzling into him, letting him kiss you and dry your tears, his teasing settling you a little. "Nah it's true love, you don't need to be scared of anything cause you're the scariest lass in small heath, no ones ever gonna pick a fight with you..." he's trying to build your confidence up so that you'll believe in yourself a bit more, so that you'll start believing him and won't be scared anymore.

🐀 Does ask you what the dream was about but he's not sure he wants to know because if it was scary enough to scare you he worries it will scare him too and he won't be able to comfort you...

🐀 But when he asks you get all defensive and smirk at him, trying to joke despite your tears, "You broke up with me..." and though he laughs he still wants to know, "Aye well we know that ain't gonna happen any time soon eh mousy," he'd tease kissing your nose and then tricking you, flipping you over so he's hovering above you and he's got you pinned to the mattress in a tangle of covers, he's threatening to tickle you and you can't help but giggle and try to squirm away... "Gonna tell me what really scared you now eh love?"

🐀 So after a little more of this apparent play fight you finally tell him all about the dream and this time he doesn't laugh at you or tease you and instead he gets very serious. He lets himself fall back down into bed beside you and kisses the centre of your collar bones, resting his head on your chest so he can listen to your heart beating.

🐀 "Sounds fucked up love," he says looking up at you and pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, steering your gaze down to him, "but you don't need to be scared now right, cause your mans a peaky fuckin blinder eh, no ones gonna mess with us..." Then he'll tell you he won't ever let anything bad happen to you.

🐀 Kind of like Bonnie, Isaiah is a sleepy boy and he'd be struggling to stay awake for you, but he'll do his best. He'd probably spoon you, kissing your shoulders and stroking your hair out of your face, his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you nice and tight against him so that you know you're snug and secure.

🐀 Will either start aggressively flirting with you to distract you or make you laugh, or he'll keep making stupid little jokes to try and ease your mind, the jokes getting sillier and sillier the more tired he gets. He won't let you fall asleep sad though.

🐀 Probably use it as an excuse to get you to have a lie in with him the next morning, he'll be grafting for sleepy morning sex, any excuse to squeeze you a little closer to him.

🐀 Might tease you about your nightmare a few days later only to flinch away from the death glare you fix him with.

Michael

☘️ Michael has a lot of bad dreams, haunting memories from his childhood which he refuses to talk about though you recognise that fearful blank look in his eyes when he wakes in the middle of the night and has to light a cigarette to calm down.

☘️ So he's very sympathetic to your nightmares and he doesn't like the fact that he can't control your dreams, can't get into your head and stop you from ever having a nightmare ever again.

☘️ So when you have you nightmares and wake up crying and shaking, breathless with fear he wakes up like clockwork, working on autopilot. His lethargic sigh leaving him as he pushes himself up, eyes not even open yet when he reaches to bundle you up in his arms.

☘️ He'd have you bundled in his lap, his chin resting on top of your head so that you feel secure with his arm around you, all held snug in place. He'd reach for the cigarettes he keeps by his bed, taking a box of matches, still half asleep as he mumbles a little comfort to you.

☘️ "Alright love, you're alright now, I've got you, s'all alright now love..."

☘️ Because the two of you have this routine down and you know the motions by heart, you'd begun to calm the second you felt his arms around you, the second you heard that long sleepy sigh leave his lips. You know you're safe because he's there.

☘️ "Have a cigarette love, you'll feel better in a minute eh?" he says placing the cigarette between your lips, drying your tears with his sleeve as he does. He'd place one between his lips too and light yours then his. The two of you cuddled up together having your cigarettes and gazing at your quiet cosy bedroom.

☘️ "The same dream?" he'll ask and when you nod your head he feel a pang of sympathy for you because you've described it to him before and he knows if it was him he'd hate to be trapped in such an awful nightmare. "Wanna talk about it?" his questions are so calm and so simple, going through the motions of your shared routine, it's so familiar, so secure and you feel so much calmer knowing he's there with you.

☘️ Because you both have your bad dreams and you both struggle to sleep you have this thing where you keep your bedroom as safe and snug as you can. It isn't very big and theres nothing that could cast an unpleasant shadow in the night. You sleep with the window open just a little, on a high up enough floor that nothing, no one could ever get in. It's your little sanctuary and you both know you're safe there.

☘️ And thats what Michael will tell you whilst you smoke your cigarette. "See this bedroom love, this bedrooms our sanctuary right, so you know yeah, that you and me are safe and sound in here, s'just me and you and absolutely no one or nothin is ever gonna hurt you in here, it's just me and you love," he's tired but he holds back his yawn and kisses your temple, blows smoke out above your head.

☘️ With the warm glow of the lamp, the soft smouldering smell of cigarette smoke clouding around you, the sound of Michaels breathing beside yours, the feeling of his chin resting in your hair, his arm hold you close to his chest, you feel so safe and secure. You know he really means it when he says you're safe in that room, really believes it.

☘️ And if Michael really believes it then you believe it too. You'd close your eyes and nestle into his side, take a deep breath in and then a long sleepy sigh as he pulls the covers up over you, takes your cigarette end and stubs it out in the ash tray. Puts his out too and then slips down against the headboard, still holding you. Cradling your head against his chest.

☘️ "See," he'd yawn then, "safe and sound eh, just me an you, safe and sound..." he'd close his eyes and kiss your forehead, rest his cheek on top of your head and slowly the two of you would drift back off to sleep together sweet as you like.

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[sewinrat]

If you are/replace Sebastian includes;

*Reader is female mentioned but I could care less, you just have to be human. Have I done something like this before can't remember...

Oh you poor soul. You don't even know how you got in this mess. You were one day suddenly locked up in a plastic cage and this strange man bought you for an even stranger boy. Now you're stuck with them forever.

The closest you act to in terms of 'first meet' is close to Pomni. And yes you have went into the UNKNOWN and Luther had to pull you back but in this case, the unknown is much more dangerous.

And now you're trying your best to hide and run away from all of them in their weird crazy house of nonsense. Unfortunately you can't even hide well because Randal's dolls will always find you. Luther is another thing. You can't act out in front of around him or else you'll be a 'bad pet' and "that's not how girls supposed to act." His words not mine. Even if you've been put in the ridiculous jester outfit. You'd prefer if they put you in those discipline outfit forever if it means to leave you alone. It doesn't matter if you lose your body.

You got a high chance into being part of the family because Luther might want a little sister but let's not go there. This time.

The other two 'people' in the house, Nyen and Nyon, you thought you could trust but apparently not. You try to avoid them both, mostly Nyen because of the times he threatened you. Although Nyon doesn't do much, it's best to not engage in any way. Why am I describing things like this is your diary?

Actually you might have a diary. But hide them well or else everyone and I mean EVERYONE will read it if you misplaced it anywhere. Randal loves to snoop especially around you. Luther says it's to get to know you better but like a parent, he's a liar because if he reads anything he doesn't like, he'll punish you accordingly. Nyen can use it to manipulate you and make fun of you but Nyon reads it... And that's it. He doesn't do much about it but he's bold so he will gave it back to you even if it's open and in the middle of reading it.

After maybe weeks or even months if time manages to slip later because if you cannot make sense of time, how can you even know the time - you're getting use to it. Not comfortable of course but it's to the point where you aren't actively scared to even look behind you.

You know what, you should be just a little bit grateful that you are Randal's 'friend' while also being under him by being a pet because if you remember in Lucid 14, it shows that Randal likes to keep parts of his 'friends' as the bible recruiter dudes were leaving(But it could also imply that it's his first time doing it while alive or smth). So yeah that's one way to lose skin.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "Oh you met my friend?? Did she escaped again if you knew em... Eh impossible but since you know her, I KNOW YOU~!! A friend to my pet is a friend to mee now come here and let's have some funn." How did you get in touch with her- actually doesn't matter to Randal, more friends the merrier.

Luther: "Hm. Troublesome at first but oh well she's just getting use to her new home that's all so I won't blame them for that. Getting docile but still needs precautions." Somehow he treats you more of an experiment than a pet. Maybe you're those last options regularly people would consider to.

Nyen: He exited the interview because a reaction of the 'new' pet of the house from him is a waste of time to him. You're not worth his trouble. But he did said something about how fun watching you struggle when him and or his master catch you escaping.

Nyon: We couldn't find him to get an interview so we came to the conclusion that he has nothing to say about you. Maybe a little pity. That's all.

Bonus? Tsukada Satoru: "Ah she's quite cute but should keep a certain distance away from Randal. Hm? Jealous? In what way or to who exactly? Randal? Oh I could never. Randal is my best friend, I'm just protecting him away from her." Maybe if you play his heart well, he'll take more of a fancy to you.

[psink]

Saiki Kusuo and Kuriko's guidebook full pages translation:

(left side) Disaster element: If he got serious, he could wipe out humanity in 3 days.

Unfortunate psychic who wishes for normal life The protagonist of this story, a psychic, who wants to live a quiet, unobtrusive life without being bothered, but strange people keep gathering around him. ←Only his parents, grandparents, older brother and a pervert know that he's a psychic. ? To avoid encountering･･････ Stay away from sweets!! He avoids troublesome things, but when it comes to sweets, his character suddenly changes. In order to obtain them, he's willing to take on some risks, so the chance of encountering him is high.

! If you happen to encounter･･････ Prepare either N or G!! He can read the minds of most creatures with telepathy with the exception for Nendou and bugs....... If you summon his natural enemies, he'll likely teleport away instantly.

(right side) Ecological information: 【Name】 Saiki Kusuo 【Height】 167cm 【Weight】 52kg 【Birthday】 August 16th 【Blood type】 Unknown 【Favorite food】 Sweets

Disaster Status: Intelligence S, Physical Strength S, Motivation G Psychic powers ◎ Protagonist Pink hair Coffee jelly Versus Nendou × Friendship ×

Overall disaster difficulty: 10% (E) Be careful, because your inner thoughts will be revealed with telepathy!

[Kusuo:] Don't make my page without permission.

Main appearance spots He can move instantly using transportation but chooses to walk normally.

(top left) Emergency evacuation place! When someone approaches his house, he makes an emergency evacuation to the neighbouring house. However, there are also characters who exceed his expectations. (bottom left) My school route Saiki often uses the embankment on his way to school. There are fewer people there, which helps him suppress his telepathy. (top right) Unexpected regular customer His favourite coffee shop is "Café Mami". This place's coffee jelly is said to be excellent, but they're still uncertain whether to renovate it or not. (bottom right) Spoilers are prohibited Saiki likes watching movies, so he frequently goes to rental shops. His target is the B-grade section that no one is interested in! Asou-sensei's idea memo: What would happen if I had psychic powers? After thoroughly considering it, I ended up creating an unfortunate psychic boy. The antennas on his head were said to have been attached when he was modified by aliens at the time of the one-shot.

(up and middle left) Disaster element: Even if you put just one finger on her, she'll gouge out your heart. A mysterious girl who appeared thanks to the transformation ability. Saiki's female form. She became a very mysterious female student. Almost all the male students that have seen here so far have fallen in love with her. ↑Quite high-spec girl. Takashi and his group feel uneasy....... ! If you happen to encounter･･････ Eh? Saiki...kun? Saying words that remind her original form, Saiki, makes her suddenly panic. Avoiding words relating to "Saiki" is the key to preventing that.

(middle right) Ecological information: 【Name】 Saiki Kurki (Saiki Kusuo) 【Height】 167cm 【Weight】 52kg 【Birthday】 August 16th 【Blood type】 Unknown

Disaster Status: Intelligence S, Physical Strength S, Charm G Sweets Mysterious high school girl

Overall disaster difficulty: 10% (E) [Kusuo:] Don't fall in love. (bottom right) Main appearance spots Rare female transformation. While her range of activities is narrow, her appearance rate in woman-only shops is higher.

Woman-only sweets shop Kuriko is a rare character, but she often appears in places that Saiki normally cannot enter, such as a woman-only sweets shop. (bottom left) Surveillance and punishment She has also punished Toritsuka for misusing spiritual powers. Panty shots are not allowed. Asou-sensei's idea memo: Despite being Saiki, it seems as though there are no antennas on her head. When transforming into a woman, she deliberately makes just that part transparent to hide it. Being a girl is difficult.

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Taking Care

Papa Emeritus IV x Nanny/Sister of Sin!Reader

TW: smut obviously, cheating, mentions of alcoholism and drug use, child does get hurt at one point but they are okay!, mentions of pregnancy, breeding smut, mentions of condoms in case that makes you uncomfy. Let me know if there's anything else I need to add, things get a little heavy in this one.

Word Count: 10.4k

This started off as a dirty little scandalous idea, actually based on a previous fandom I used to write for, and it turned into a big thing... As all of my fics do. I don't think I'm capable of writing anything short anymore. Also @sweatandwoe came up with the title 😉

Anyway! Papa IV has a horrible Prime Mover who is never present at home, and it leads to him developing some feelings for the nanny. Enjoy!

𝘓𝘢 𝘢𝘮𝘰... Copia thought to himself as he fondly observed the sight before him, framed by the paned glass door leading to the balcony: his little one bouncing on your hip as you cooed at him, trying to get the bambino back to sleep. The antipope had returned home late from the ministry offices, as he often did, entering his suite completely exhausted, kicking off his shoes to let his aching feet relax, perking back up a bit upon laying eyes on you.

Eyes glossed over as a cheery little smile came to his face, he simply watches as you saunter back and forth, his progeny lulling back to sleep in your arms. Before he even realizes, his sore feet carry him right out to the balcony, making his presence known.

"Oh! Good evening, Papa!" you whisper, not wanting to rouse the little one.

"No need for such formalities, 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢..." he mocks you with a wink.

A faint blush colors your cheeks; always so charismatic, even when he's as tired as he looks. Luckily before you can put more thought into it, baby Giovanni stirs a little, sitting back up and eyes popping open.

"Sh, sh, shhh..." you hum pressing a kiss to his little head.

"D-deh..." he whines reaching out towards Copia.

Letting out a little shocked gasp, you feign, "Who's that? Who is he, huh? Is that Daddy?"

With the sweetest giggle, the little one exclaims for his Da-da, reaching out again.

Copia swoops right over, playfully bending down to smooch his only son, getting a bit of black face paint on the soft fuzz of the little one's head. "Whoopsies, we'll have to wash you up, piccolino," he runs a finger delicately over his little cheek.

As Copia stands up straight again, and his baby stretches right back out for him.

"I think someone wants Daddy, yeah?" you try to urge your boss to take the bundle in your arms.

Instead, he does the unexpected. Wrapping an arm around the small of your back, he pulls you flush to him, cocooning his son between you. You and Copia both have an arm supporting the baby, as he holds you both close to him.

"Someone wants Daddy, sì?" he asks, and you're not sure if that was for you or Gio. Either way, it draws another blush to your cheeks.

Copia looks you over, eyes softening now that his little one is safe between you. In your avoidance of eye contact, you didn't see him lean in, only feeling his lips press softly to your forehead; surely you would have a mark as his child did. The softest gasp escapes you; it isn't lost on you that things had not been well for some time between him and his Prime Mover...

Maybe you were reading too much into it. Perhaps he was just being affectionate. You knew he could be handsy, and he'd had a long day; he was probably just seeking a moment of comfort before bed.

"Let's go put him down for the night, eh?" Copia motions to his baby boy.

You were so lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed he drifted back off. Snapping back into action to take him to bed, Copia stops you, scooping the bundle from your arms, giving you a warm smile as he disappears back inside to the nursery connected to his bedroom. You trail behind the man to make sure he won't need help with anything.

Laying the little one in his basinet, Copia offers him one last goodnight kiss and jokingly promises not to disturb him again. The man turns to see you standing in the doorway, illuminated by the soft glow of the night light in the room.

"I should retire to bed before he wakes again in a few hours," you dutifully remark, eyes cast down and thumbs twirling together.

Gloved fingers brush your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, "It's a blessing having you here." Softly he cups your jaw, while his other hand grips your waist, effectively pinning you to the door frame. "May I kiss you, cara mia?"

Wide eyed, you stare up at him as about a million thoughts race through your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘢? 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬? 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯... 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬. 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦? 𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯...

Copia inhales and starts to straighten up, "It's quite alright if you don't want to, cara. I do apologize if I made you uncomf-"

Snapping out of your thoughts, your arms snake around his neck and your lips crash into his. Immediately, his hands cradle the back of your head and your waist, keeping you flush against him. The way his mouth moves against yours is sinful to say the least; he's quick to use his tongue, tracing it across your bottom lip before giving it a quick nip with his teeth. It was masterful really.

Within seconds, your mouth was giving him access, his tongue desperately wanting to meet yours, which drew a small whimper from you. While he moved excitedly within your mouth, you were more hesitant. Stupid as it may sound, you weren't sure you wanted to tempt him more; you had already totally crossed the line and disrespected your Prime Mover.

You know Copia isn't the kind to cheat, but he's been so miserable lately, always arguing with her, only for her not to remember a thing because she's so intoxicated. She was always out at parties and hardly ever home, and when she was in his suites, she was practically out of her mind. He's been trying so hard to get her the help she needs, but she won't take it. She likes the money, the power, the drink and drugs her position can afford her more than the life she's made here in the Abbey. It's sad really, especially with the baby involved.

The heat of the kiss had simmered down a lot and Papa slowly pulls away from you, searching your eyes for what went wrong. "I'm sorry, Papa, I shouldn't have- It was completely inappropriate of me to-" You try to pull away from him, but you only manage to slide your hands down to his chest before his grip on you returns, holding you close.

He swiftly pulls you outside the child's nursery and lightly clicks the door shut, so as not to disturb him.

"Papa, I'm- I'm so sorry..." It barely comes as a whisper.

"For what, tesoro? Giving me the kiss that I offered to you first? Now that's the real slight against me," he quips playfully, giving you a warm smile.

You hated to admit it, but it felt so nice being held so close to him. He always smelled of expensive cologne, it was heady getting to take in the scent at such proximity. All that consumed your mind in that moment was laying your head on his chest, so you did. Forehead in the crook of his neck, your eyes flutter closed and take in the soft moment.

Rubbing gentle circles into your back, his voice rumbles against your ears, "You're probably sleepy, piccolina. Let's get you to bed." Without another word, he leads you right down the hall to the guest room that was all yours. You never really returned to the Sisters of Sin quarters since you were the full time caregiver to the Emeritus heir.

It could get lonely at times, so you were grateful for the days when other Siblings would be assigned to work with you, whether to give you a break or to take Giovanni on an outing like a picnic or to the beach. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳... Sleepily, you yawn as you arrive at your door.

Copia opens the door for you, stopping at the threshold. A gentleman even in his own home. "Goodnight, cara mia."

"Goodnight, Papa," you mumble, hands returning to his chest.

He couldn't help himself; he leans in pressing another kiss to your lips, fingers tangling in your hair for a brief moment before pulling away again. You may have whined at the loss; you aren't sure in your sleepy state. Looking up at him, the man bites his bottom lip, and only then do you realize how smudged his face paint is, especially around his mouth. Copia simply nods at you one final time before closing you in your room, and you let out a groan, knowing you should wash all the black and gray off of your face before bed.

• • •

The next morning you emerge from your room a little earlier than normal and in a bit of a tizzy, because Giovanni is already crying and that's not like him. Turns out he just needs a diaper change, but of course he's hungry afterwards. 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺.

Baby in tow, you head to the kitchen to warm up his bottle. You pass Copia in the living space, adorned with a little couch and TV, as he's having his morning coffee and reading the newspaper; he really could be a stereotypical old man sometimes. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴.

"Up so early, you two?" He sets his mug down, promptly following you to the kitchen.

"Yes, he was extra whiny this morning, so I couldn't put him off any longer," you explain.

It was pretty rare to see Copia before he left in the morning. He was always up so early and home so late. This morning he was already dressed and face painted; you were sure he was getting ready to walk out the door any minute.

As you reach for the kettle to warm some water for the baby's bottle, you feel a large hand on the small of your back, and suddenly you're acutely aware of the fact that you are only in your silky nightgown. You hadn't had time to put on your habit this morning.

"Let me help, Stellina, I don't get to do enough for the little guy," Copia chuckles at the little one, pinching his cheek before moving to warm up the water.

You turn your attention back to keeping the little one calm, as he could get quite cranky when he's hungry. The antipope stops to admire the sight before him as the kettle heats up: your undivided attention on his child, the curve of your hip holding him, the bare skin of your collarbones and shoulders. It has his mind drifting to all the places he'd like to mark on you; you were just so motherly, even though you had none of your own... He'd like to be the one to give you one, or many.

Just as the pot starts to spit and sputter, before it can reach boiling, Copia quickly pours it into a large bowl, submerging one of the many bottles you kept ready in it to warm the formula up.

You lightly press a kiss to baby Gio's head as he laughs at his father for some unknown reason.

"What's so funny, huh?" he turns and gets right in the baby's face, eyes wide and smile big.

"Who's that?" you coo.

"Da... D-" he babbles; he was still learning his first words.

"Close enough, eh?" Copia giggles before gasping and covering his face with his hands.

"Oh no, where's Daddy?!" you feign looking for him.

A burst of laughter comes from the little one when Copia reveals his face again. Peekaboo always did the trick.

By now the bottle would be warm enough, so the man slides an arm under his child, taking him from you. Quickly tossing him up in the air, the baby squeals happily, as he settles into his father's arms. As Copia reaches for a towel and the bottle, the infant points at you, "Mama!" It was the clearest word he'd ever said.

"Oh no, sweetie, I'm not-" you start, but Copia finishes it.

"Sì? She is kinda like your Mama, yeah?" He bounces the baby and gives him the bottle.

"Copia... I'm not his mother. She'll be pissed."

"She's never here. You're all he knows. Satanas, 𝘐'𝘮 not even here as much as I'd like to be. You'll be the only reason he turns out right," he ponders out loud, face looking forlorn at the thought.

"Well... Maybe we should plan something? Give him a Daddy son day, yeah?" you suggest.

"I shouldn't only be around for the fun times. You deserve more help, and he deserves for at least one of his parents to be here for him," Copia asserts, leaving no room for argument. "I'll go in late today. I want to help you get him ready this morning. And tomorrow, I'll come home early."

You weren't sure how Sister Imperator was going to like that, but it seems he's made up his mind, and you certainly weren't going to complain about seeing him more.

• • •

Copia kept to his word and stayed through the baby's entire morning routine, burping him, getting him washed up and dressed for the day. And of course he didn't leave you without a kiss.

The next day, he arrived to his papal suite early, just as he said, and helped you fix dinner. Normally it was just you and the baby, so you ate whatever was around; you weren't above eating sliced up hot dogs and applesauce. But since Papa was home and wasn't used to eating that way, he helped you cook, making pasta, alfredo sauce, and some broccoli and zucchini for a side.

You spoon fed Gio a jar of baby food while Copia worked his magic at the stovetop. Sleeves rolled up and apron donned, he checks every pot and pan diligently, tasting and adding ingredients where necessary. He really was built for this; it's a shame he isn't able to be home more.

Once he was done, your Papa insisted on you taking it easy for the evening. From pulling out your chair at the dinner table to fixing your plate, you weren't doing a thing. It felt unreal, like you shouldn't even be there if you weren't doing your job, but it also felt nice to have him doting over you, even if it was wrong. Copia even chopped some noodles really small for his son to try; Gio was going to be a mess later, but he needed a bath anyway.

Which after the delicious meal, Copia handled that too. He was perhaps a little inexperienced and ended up covered in water himself, but he was so happy to kneel next to you on the bathroom tile and take care of his little one. And seeing Copia holding a bundle of towels afterwards was probably the cutest thing ever.

"Go wash up yourself, Stellina. I'll put il bambino down, I picked out his pajamas and everything. Meet me back in the main room for a movie, hm?" The man softly grabs your hand, kinda like he was asking you on a date.

"Oh, o-okay," you bite your lip.

"You do not have to if it would not make you happy, tesoro." You were both treading new waters.

"No, no. I'll be there." You offer him a smile.

He returns it, happy you accepted his offer. "Bene. See you then," he gives you a wink before heading off to the nursery.

• • •

After your respective showers, Copia relaxed on the sofa in nothing more than a pair of silk pajama pants that left little to the imagination. You try to avoid eye contact with a certain... outline, as you enter the room, donning a few more layers than him. He didn't wear a stitch of paint and his hair was still damp.

He admires your look of cozy pajama shorts, a tank top, and a short robe loosely tied over top. Moving to lie on his side, Copia pats the spot in front of him, meaning you need to squeeze in right next to him on the little seat. It seemed especially small now at the thought of having to share it with him.

And it's not that you don't want to. You just knew what it could lead to, and that makes you hesitant. The thought of cuddling up next to your boss, your Papa, and his Prime Mover could walk in the door at any moment, although it was unlikely.

"Is okay, tesoro, I'm nervous too," the man admits to you, "but I desire to be closer with you." Apparently, he means physically closer as he slides an arm around your waist as you sit next to his lounging form. He quickly catches your hand, kissing your knuckles. "C'mon, cara, get comfortable," he urges you, "Lie down with me if you'd like."

You oblige him, laying on your back with him still on his side beside you, faces mere inches from one another. "Hey," you greet him, a nod to the nearness.

"Hi," he replies, looking over the features of your face that he adores so much.

You'd never really gotten to look into his eyes like this before and take in the lack of pigment in that white iris; it's fascinating the way it nearly glows, and so well balanced by the warm golden hues present in his green eye.

"You're a good dad, Copia." You're not sure what prompted it, but after all the work he'd put in this evening, he deserved to hear that. And you could tell the work wouldn't end there; he wanted to be more present in his child's life.

"Grazie, Stellina," he gingerly lays his arm across your waist, "I couldn't do it without you."

Between his praises and his fingers tracing shapes along your side, your cheeks betray you and blush a deep shade. Scanning your face for any indication he should stop, he slowly presses a few small pecks to your jawline, and he catches you in a passionate kiss before asking what movie you'd like to watch.

After settling in on a classic you'd both seen before, you turn to your side, so Copia is spooning his body against yours, propped up just so that you can both see the large screen. With his warmth settled all around you, worry crossed your mind that you may not make it through the entire movie...

He was just so soft and warm... inviting... His breath at the nape of your neck soothing your heavy eyelids-

𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵- 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦... 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

Keeping your eyes glued to the screen, you subtly arch your back, pretending to stretch, feeling out the... 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 behind you. When you receive a stifled groan from your Papa, feeling his erection pressed tight against your backside, your inquiry is answered.

His arm draped around your waist tightens its grip, keeping you oh so close to him; you feel him let out a hot shaky breath before pressing a kiss to your neck. The feeling immediately sends a spark running through you as his mouth warms up your sensitive skin.

Your fingers lace with his as your ass wriggles against him again, earning a wanton moan from your Papa.

"Dolcezza... Look what you do to me," he whispers next to your ear.

"Papa," you breathe out, turning to catch his lips in a fierce kiss, the movie long since forgotten about. Quickly into the kiss, you're shifting onto your back, fingers tangling in his hair, to give him better access to your body.

His fingers delicately trace your jaw and neck, a sharp juxtaposition to the way his lips attack yours, needy and starved for attention. His lips deserved to be kissed like this every day; you couldn't understand why his Prime Mover would throw away the opportunity. Speaking of...

"Copia," you pull away from him suddenly, chests heaving as you both seek to fill your lungs again.

"Sì, bella mia? What is on that pretty little mind?"

Between the way his words make your heart swell and the shaft trapped against your hip, what you need to tell him fumbles on your lips. "We, uh... Copia, we- we shouldn't."

"Mm..." he grunts, "we shouldn't." He leans up to kiss your forehead, "But I want to. I want you. What do you want, cara mia?" He caresses your cheek again.

"I-" you look up for a minute, taking a deep breath, "I want you, too," you whisper, looking right into his eyes, like you were afraid to admit that you wanted your boss. But you do. He's damn near perfect! He's your Papa. He's the one you swore your vows to when you became a Sister of Sin. He's so devoted to his work, to the church, to his followers. He's a good dad. Damn it, you can't understand how she doesn't want him.

If his Prime Mover wasn't going to take care of him, then you would.

Your lips crash back into his, fingertips raking along his scalp harshly, causing him to rut his hips against you, desperate for your touch. As you moan against each other's mouths, his hand explores your body, sliding down your side, your hip, your thigh. Fingers trail up inside your shorts, teasing at the fabric of your panties.

You nearly whine in anticipation, only just now realizing how much you wanted his fingers inside you. Taking your little noise as a good sign, Copia slides his hand between your legs, urging your thighs apart and fabric out of the way as he runs two fingers through your slick folds.

Just to accentuate his actions, he draws your bottom lip between his, nibbling at your swollen flesh, which leaves you room to let out a breathy moan. "Cara..." he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes blown wide with lust for you, "so wet for me..." He bites his lip, pushing those two fingers deep inside you. Gasping loudly at the feeling, your hands roam his bare skin across his neck, collarbone, chest. He ruts into you at the same pace that he pushes his fingers in and out, eyebrows furrowed, clearly fighting the urge to rush right into things.

"... feels so good, Papa. So good," you praise him, fingernails scratching at him.

"Sorella... I could say the same to you," he pants, brows softening as he presses a kiss to your cheek. How he managed to be so soft yet build such a fire between your legs made no sense to you, but you revel in the dizzying feeling of it all. You feel your walls petal around his digits thats he works in and out of you, thumb frequenting your clit, making you arch for him. "So tight, so warm, Sorella. I can't wait to feel you fully, amore."

"Copia," you drag his name out, "Copia, I need you." His duochromatic eyes search yours, and when your hand snakes down to grip his hot girth, he doesn't have to be told twice.

He curls his fingers sharply one good time, making you mewl out his name again, and pulls them out of you. Quickly, fingers rush to shove your too many layers off to the floor; first the robe, then the shorts, before he pulls you up off the couch, walking you backwards towards his room, lips never leaving yours.

Upon the back of your knees hitting the foot of the bed, the antipope shoves you back on the lofty mattress. Immediately he's on top of you, moving you back onto the pillows. After throwing your tank top across the room, his mouth latches onto your collarbone, sucking a sizable love mark there, fingers tangling into your hair. His other hand found your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure he wasn't going too far.

Your fingers grant him permission with a gentle scratch on the head, and his mouth moves to suck on the soft flesh of your bosom. Toying with the waistband of your panties, he tugs them down, sitting back on his haunches as he flings them off. He leaves you on the bed to free himself from those devilish silk pants, erection springing free, heavy with lust, as he reaches into the bedside drawer to pull out a condom.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦...

"Are you ready, cara mia?" he prompts, almost like a nervous teenager doing it for the first time.

Scanning over his body, completely bare to you from his messy hair to his flushed chest, bushy happy trail, and leaky shaft, you nod your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "Please, Copia."

Without another word, he ripped the little package and rolled the protection onto himself before climbing back on top of you. It felt good to have him there, like he belonged this close to you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lined himself up with you. He worked gently, as if he might break you if he did what he really wanted to do. Really, it was romantic the way he rocked his hips ever so slowly, cradling your head in his hand, his eyes fluttered closed as he exhaled what felt like all the air in his lungs, nose nuzzling against the side of your neck.

You whine for more as he languidly fills you, his girth pressing on all your walls; you were grateful to have been partially stretched by his fingers earlier. Looking down at him, you bite your lip before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. He meets your eyes, pressing a kiss to your jawline in response.

Finally, it feels like he's bottomed out in you, and his knees dig into the bed as he gives one final push, that last little bit feeling so much more sensational than all the rest as he makes contact with that sweet spot his fingers teased earlier. Letting out an airy whimper, your eyes screw shut as he stays put, taunting the spot without moving.

"P-p-mmm... papaplease-" you whine for him to end his torture.

His cock twitches inside you, and a wicked grin forms on his lips, knowing what he's doing to you. He hasn't even moved yet and you've probably already forgotten your name. It may have been a while since he'd gotten any action, but he was happy to see he hadn't lost his touch.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out a bit, relieving the pressure on that spot deep inside you. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and he slides right back in, his tip kissing your sweet spot. Gasping as your thighs tighten their grip around him, he grins again, this time settling just above you to kiss your nose as you take on his assault.

Moving slowly at first, he relaxes into the pleasure of you: the way your delicate fingers curl into his hair, the way your jaw hangs open in pleasure, your eyes looking up into his longing for one another... How long you'd pined for one another without even realizing it; he'd wanted you from the moment he'd met you, seeing the way you cared for his progeny better than anyone else could.

With each thrust he wants you to know how much he cares for you, wants for you, needs you. Tears of lust and longing stain his lashes as he loses himself in the feeling of you surrounding him. As if to add to what he was already feeling, you pull him into a sweet but spicy makeout. His hips pick up pace, needing more.

"Dolcezza... I don't think I'll last..." he lets you know.

"Me either, Papa. Touch me, please."

Obliging you, his hand snakes between your bodies, the rough pad of his middle finger sending a jolt through you as he finds your clit. Between that and the treatment of your g-spot, you're cumming in seconds, growing impossibly tighter around his length each time your muscles convulse.

His lips find yours again, hating to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but desperately needing to kiss you. "Stellina... Ti amo, Stellina. Così tanto... Ho bisogno di te nella mia vita," he cries out for you as he spills into the condom and goes limp on top of you.

You cradle his head against your chest, and for a moment, he wasn't unlike his little one sleeping in the next room, needing your affection. You kiss the top of his head, nuzzling into his messy hair, and he returns the sentiment by nibbling on your earlobe, earning a giggle from you.

With a quick peck on the cheek, he rolls off of you, heading to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you up. His aftercare is nearly as good as the lovemaking, as his lips trail behind the terry cloth, leaving a kiss wherever he wipes and soothes your skin.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" you blurt out.

"What is that, cara mia?" Copia tosses the rag aside and wraps an arm around your waist, cuddling into you.

"That... That you love me," you bite your lip, "and I think you said something about your life? I don't know Italian as well as you obviously..." you trail off.

"Mi dispiace, tesoro, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," he caresses your cheek, searching your eyes.

"No, no, you didn't," you tell him, also stroking his cheek.

"I just lose control of myself when I, uhhh, when mia signora makes me feel good," he smiles and taps his fingers on your collarbone, "I hope you know, cara, that I-"

"I love you, too." You stare at him like you'd just been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Stellina... I didn't know you would feel the same," he admits.

"Of course, I do, Papa. You're... perfect. Who wouldn't love you?"

"Well, I can think of one person," he gives a disgusted half smirk before chewing on his cheek. It wasn't lost on you all the times Copia's Prime Mover had walked out on him, but not before screaming and arguing at the top of her lungs about how much she hated him.

"Hey, hey, don't let her ruin your night. She's ruined too many of them already." You pull him closer, seeing him fight off the anger.

He looks up at you, face softening, "You're right. I'm letting her get to me, when I should be confessing my love to you," he chuckles softly, fingers walking up your arm.

"Yes, you should, Papa. Confess away," you sigh and lean in for another kiss.

"Ahhh, ti amo, principessa mia," he starts dramatically, "sei la mia vita, the very breath I breathe..." You both share a laugh at his little act. "Really, cara mia, I've loved you a long time. And it's supposed to feel wrong, but instead it just feels like... Like what it should've always been. Like you should be the one I'm with. Like you should be il mio bambino's mother."

"Copia," you whisper, tears welling up. You know he shouldn't say things like that, but admittedly it felt nice to hear it. Actually, it made your heart soar.

He pulls you in for another fierce kiss, one that's let's you know exactly how much he means it.

• • •

"Mmm, cara mia... I think I'm calling out of work today," your lover chuckles, squinting in the bright morning sun.

"What's that, old man? Four rounds and the baby crying got you worn out?" you jab at him.

"Did we go four rounds?" He looks impressed with himself.

"Did you lose count?" You both laugh, him groaning at his tired headache. As you wiggle out of bed to go get the little one ready for the day, Copia grabs your wrist.

"Let him sleep. We should too," he begs.

"Are you really calling out today? I'm sure Sister Imperator won't be happy."

"That woman is never happy. Now get your ass back in bed," he pulls you back under the covers, holding you flush against him. "Your 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘺 ass." He grabs your backside to accentuate his point, leaning in to kiss your neck.

"I thought you wanted to go back to sleep..." You bite your lip with a cheeky grin.

"Maybe we go for round five first, sì?"

• • •

"Sh, sh, shhhh... It's okay, baby boy, it's okay," you whisper into Giovanni's ear, kissing his head repeatedly to calm his tantrum.

Copia's Prime Mover had come home, which means everything is a mess. You'd had a peaceful few days navigating your newly admitted feelings for your boss, and he was settling in to a new routine of being home more for the baby. Of course it was an added bonus that he got to spend his nights with you. But now everything felt like it had been turned on its head.

"Oh, so you think you're the best Daddy in the world since spending more time at home, huh?! Look at you all high and mighty! Making me out to be horrible!" She screams at him, loud enough that you can hear every word from your spot of the balcony. The sound had been driving the baby crazy, so you brought him out here to try to drown it out. It wasn't working as he cried and cried against you.

"Someone has to be here for him! My being here for him says nothing about you. Your own absence says it all," Copia cuts back at her, but it was the truth.

"So... you do think I'm a horrible mother?" She shrinks, wrapping her arms around herself. You try not to look, but you can't help but be concerned for your Papa.

"Of course not, tesoro..." There it is. The little shred of hope he still has for the mother of his child. He steps towards her, gently rubbing his hands over her arms. "You need help. It's not your fault, but you need help. All that stuff you pump into your body isn't good for you. Please let me help."

Finally, the little boy in your arms starts to settle down. You just hoped they wouldn't start shouting again.

She really was a beautiful woman, Copia's Prime Mover. Tall, looks that kill, charming; she really had been a great match for your Papa. Of course that was before the pressure of her position got to her. You suppose you'd be upset too if you got forced into a marriage; you'd probably go off the deep end as well. Copia had his whole life to prepare for that fate; she had a few months, and so she makes herself numb, she runs as far as she can, she resents all of it, especially him.

• • •

You wake early the next morning to a light knock at your guest room door. The sun wasn't even up, so you immediately got worried something was wrong with Gio.

Flinging the door open, you're met with the sight of a broken man. "Papa? What's wrong?"

"She's gone... She left again." He wasn't even blinking, but tears streamed from his mismatched orbs.

"Oh, Copia," you pull him into a hug, supporting him as best you can.

"She said I could get her help. She was going to get help, but she ran away again." He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring off at nothing as you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

"Copia... You do everything right. You try so hard for her. And for him," you nod to the nursery, "You can only help her as much as she'll let you. If she doesn't want to change, then she won't. It's not your fault; I hope you know that it isn't your fault."

He takes your hands and nods at you. He didn't have much else to say. He'd dealt with this so many times, he was almost numb to it. Almost.

You look at the clock, seeing that it was only 4am. "Let's get some more sleep, Papa. You need to rest." You stand up to lead him back to his room, but he just sits, looking up at you like a lost dog.

"Can I stay with you, cara mia?"

The simplicity of the question cut you deep; he yearned to not be alone. He didn't want to wake up to a cold empty bed once again.

"Of course, you can."

You climb back into bed, Copia happy to spoon your body. Sitting in comfortable silence, he drifts back off, getting the deepest sleep he'd had in the days since his Prime Mover had come home.

• • •

"Knock knock!" you chirp, entering Papa's office with baby, diaper bag, and picnic basket in tow.

He looks up from something he'd been reading over, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of you, "Ahhh, to what to I owe the pleasure? It's a long trek across the Abbey just to come see me." He stands up from his desk, taking the diaper bag and picnic basket from you and setting them down.

"Da-da!!!" the little one exclaims; he was getting much better at his words.

"Oooh, piccolino, come here," he replies, scooping him up too.

"He wanted to see you," you start, "and I did too... I know you haven't been able to be home as much as you want because of work, so I thought maybe we would bring lunch to you."

Paperwork had stacked up since he was taking more time to be home; he was taking this week to just try to push through as much as he could. But he's also making a plan to hire several assistants and delegate as many of these menial tasks as he can.

"Dolcezza... That is so thoughtful of you," he cups your cheek, giving you a quick peck on the forehead. "I think I could sneak away for a little while." He gives you a wink, bouncing the baby on his hip.

"It's okay if you can't! We can eat in here too. I don't want to get you in trouble with Sister..."

"Silly girl, when are you going to learn I don't care what she thinks?" He smirks at you, returning to his office chair to sign a few more papers before heading out. Somehow him holding the baby while working made him even cuter. "Besides, technically she answers to me."

Out in the gardens, Papa plays with the child, keeping him occupied while you set up lunch. Watching the little one doddle across the grass, Papa towering over him but offering his fingers as support, warmed your heart; Copia had been trying to get him to take his first steps on his own, and he was hellbent on not missing it.

"Okay, boys, time to eat!" you call over to them.

Copia immediately scoops the child up, tossing him high in the air, watching him giggle the whole way. He does it a few more times as he makes his way over to you and the picnic blanket. "Sorella, this all looks so good. Grazie. I wish I could've been some help to you," he offers his gratitude as he sits next to you, baby in his lap.

"It's okay, Papa. We know how hard you've been working, and without you, this whole Abbey wouldn't run, so really I should thank you for making it so wonderful here."

He nods his head at you, silenced by your sweet words. "Still, grazie, cara mia."

Lunch goes by peacefully, enjoying the warm sun and the image playing out before you: Copia trying to get Giovanni to eat some cut up strawberries and the little one sputtering red mush everywhere, making a mess of himself and his father.

"You'll have to change your clothes after lunch," you giggle, taking a bite of your sandwich.

"Mm, what a shame... Won't he be taking a nap then?" Your Papa gives you a smug look.

You blush at his implication and look around to make sure no one could hear. "Papa..."

"Oh, don't be so coy, Sorella. You certainly weren't shy when you went down-"

"Papa!! Hush!" you whisper yell at him, hiding your face in your hands.

He waits for you to peek through your fingers at him, and you both burst out in laughter.

• • •

What was supposed to be a quick stop back in his suite of course turned into a heated make out session on the kitchen counter.

"Cazzo, Stellina, I would take you on the fucking dinner table right now if I could," he grunts, biting at your bottom lip.

"Hmm, guess you'll just have to daydream about it in your office, huh?" You tease him.

"I'll have you there, too, if I have anything to do with it." His hands pull harshly at your hair, smashing his face against yours again. Your tongues dance with one another as your fists crumple the fresh shirt he'd put on.

When you can no longer wait for air, you push yourself off of him, breathing heavy. "You're gonna have to fix your paint, you know that?" you chuckle.

"I can see that," he wipes some gray from your lip to show you.

You both fall into giggles again, staring into each other's eyes as you reluctantly release one another to return back to your duties.

• • •

"Mm, we've probably got a few minutes before little Gio wakes up, right?" Copia grumbles into your cleavage.

You swear this man will be the death of you. He finally gets a day off, to sleep in if he wants, and the first things on his mind this morning is pounding you into the mattress... Again. Like he didn't do that all last night.

"All you ever think about is sex," you chuckle, kissing the top of his head.

"When it's as good as you are, amore mio, sì. I think about it morning, noon, and night," he starts pressing kisses across your chest, grinding his growing hardness against your thigh.

"Copia-" you start, hearing a couple thuds down the hallway, "What is that? Do you hear that?"

Seconds later, a loud shriek comes from the baby's room. In an instant you're both jumping up to throw on some clothes.

Copia slips on some pants before bolting out of his room with you hot on his trail, tying on his robe. In the hallway, you're both confronted with Copia's Prime Mover with Giovanni on her hip and diaper bag slung over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?!" The man steps right in front of her to stop her from shoving further down the hallway.

"I'm taking him and we're going!! You've got some new life now, so we're gonna move on too!" She is clearly out of her mind, her eyes bloodshot like she hasn't slept in days and bruises all up her forearms.

"What are you talking about??" Copia attempts to grab the child from her, but she snatches him away, which only eggs on his crying.

"Oh, please! You think I don't know you're fucking the nanny?! I saw the condoms in the trash last time I was here, and now she's in your robe!"

Tears of anger build up in his eyes as he turns to look at you; he felt totally helpless.

It gives his Prime Mover just enough time to push past him and into the living area. "You just want to put me away so you can move on to your new life with your newer, younger little whore!"

"Do not talk about her! She cares for your child more than you do!! While you're out on the streets strung out, she's here, doing the job you took vows to do!" he shouts to defend you.

"That was before I knew you ran a cult! All of this is just some facade to make you famous! You're a selfish bastard, leading the blind just so you won't be lonely like when you were a kid," her words cut deep.

Copia clenches both fists, a fire you'd never seen in his eyes before, as he very evenly doles out, "Give me back my child and get the fuck out."

As if on cue, the little one reaches out for you, face red as tears stream down his face, "Mama! Mamaaa!!"

You step closer to her, wanting to reach out for the squirming little bundle in her arm.

"So you think you're his mama now?" she cuts her eyes at you.

"No, I- I tried to teach him... I would never," you stammer, not knowing what to do, "Please. Please just give him to me."

"What? Let you have my husband and my baby? I think not, bitch." She moves towards the door, but you move with her, body acting on pure adrenaline now. The child reaches out, little hands latching onto your robe, and you wrap your arms around him to slip him away from her, but her fingers lock tightly around his thigh, making him shriek once again.

"Please. Please don't hurt him!! Don't hurt him!" You raise your voice at her, holding the baby tight to your chest.

The next thing you know, Copia is letting Aether and a couple other ghouls in the room, and they swiftly pounce on her, pulling her away from you and the baby you care so much about. You look down to see that his little leg was already bruising from where she'd grabbed and twisted at his skin.

You held him tightly, bouncing him around and humming something to drown it all out as Copia and the ghouls dragged her out into the hallway. The antipope was absolutely seething, and you didn't care to know what he was screaming at her.

Looking out to the sunny balcony, you feel the urge to walk out there. Honestly it was probably to soothe you as much as it was for the screaming one in your arms. Before you can move a muscle, your lover bursts back into the room, making a beeline for you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and Gio, resting his chin on top of your head. Fighting back tears, he holds you like that for a while.

Finally comes a soft, "I am so sorry, cara."

Pulling away just enough to look up at him, you reassure him, "It's not your fault. Are you okay?"

"I will be. Please tell me she didn't hurt you," he brushes his fingers through your hair.

"No, she didn't, but we may need to have this looked at," you motion to his son's bruised leg.

A series of emotions flash across Copia's face upon seeing the injury. Part of him blames himself for ever letting that woman get close to either of you. But he also knew that without her, he wouldn't have either of you in his life.

"Well, she's not coming back. I won't let her hurt anyone here ever again. She needs help but I can't keep letting her come back, not when I have a son who needs safety and stability."

• • •

Months went by, and it felt like a whole new chapter for all of you. Copia officially separated from his Prime Mover, announcing it at Black Mass; he always felt transparency was important in his congregation. You had moved into his room permanently, and Copia had even hired another nanny to give you a break from time to time. He didn't want you feeling like caring for his son was the only thing you were good for. He also hired assistants for his office, Siblings of Sin who were honored to take some weight off their Papa's shoulders.

Now that the two of you had less worries, you almost didn't know how to fill your time. Almost...

"Your sidekick has Giovanni out in the gardens... What do you say we have our own playtime, eh?" Copia chuckles next to your ear as you recline back against his chest on the sofa.

"Do not call her my sidekick," you laugh at your lover, "She does just as much work as me, she deserves more credit than that."

"I don't know, dolcezza... She doesn't spend the night like you do."

"Oh, and look how much trouble that got us in," you smirk, turning to catch him in a kiss. "You're not going to start sleeping with the new nanny again, are you?"

"No, no, no, no, amore mio," he whispers right in your ear, "Il mio cazzo belongs to you alone."

You huff out a laugh, "That's all? Just your 𝘤𝘢𝘻𝘻𝘰?"

"Well, perhaps il mio cuore, too..."

"Perhaps, huh?" you tease him, turning to get on your knees in between his legs. Leaning forward, you give him a single chaste kiss. "Don't I deserve a little more than 'perhaps'?" You sit back on your heels, unbuttoning your shirt slowly.

"Dolcezza..." Copia pants, already excited just from seeing your lacy bra.

"Ah, ah, ahhh. Don't 'dolcezza' me," you wink at him.

"Please-" he whines in a way that was a little unbecoming of a Papa.

Your shirt drifts slowly to the floor, and Copia reaches out to touch you, but you swat his hands away. "I don't know, Papa. Maybe I don't mean enough to you. Maybe I should just go take care of the throbbing between my legs all by myself, huh? Make you sit out here and listen while I cry out, making a mess of myself..."

He feels his cock twitch at the thought of you touching yourself in his bed.

"Stellina, please, you know I love you so..." His eyes roam your body hungrily.

"How do I know you mean it, Papa? That you aren't just saying that? For all I know, you tell the other nanny that all the time..." You grin at him, leaning forward and propping yourself up on your knees. With your elbows propped on his shoulders, he has a nice view of your cleavage spilling out of your bra just the way he likes.

"No one else is worthy of those words, no one else is worthy of these feelings I have for you." His arm snakes around you, hand resting on the small of your back. "Let me show you, cara mia. Let me prove how much I love you. Only you."

You bite your lip. It felt good to make a powerful man like him crumble, to have him rock hard without even touching him. Your little teasing game is fun, but you know his words are serious.

"Take me, Papa. Make me all yours. Prove I'm the only one for you."

With that, he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you right to his bedroom and kicking the door closed loudly. Your back hits the bed and your torso is met by his hot mouth tracing all your curves. Impatiently, he pulls at your tight pencil skirt, needing to feel more of your skin.

Reaching down, you undo the zipper on your hip, "There." Another wink.

The skirt finds its place in the corner of the room as Copia kisses at the top of your panties. "Mia dea... ti amo con tutto quello che ho. Sei la mia dea."

A blush tints your cheeks, you'd learned a bit more Italian in the last few months.

"Worship me, then."

He looks up to meet your commanding eyes, freezing for a brief moment before working his own shirt to the floor and positioning himself between your sinful thighs. Kissing at the supple skin there, he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. Hungrily, his fingers grab at your skin until they hook into the lace at your hip. A tearing sound rings out and you feel his breath on your core.

"Hey! I liked those!" you whine.

"I'll buy you another pair, principessa," he looks up at you through his eyelashes while placing a sloppy kiss right to your clit. You can't help but buck up into his mouth at the sensation.

He grips your hips firmly to hold you in place. You had taunted the beast and now you would reap what you sowed. His mouth latches onto you, sucking on your already swollen clit. The feeling is so intense, you instinctively try to push him off you, but he is having none of it.

"Oh!! Papa!" you cry out, one hand tangling in his hair and the other gripping his satin sheets.

He offers you some reprieve by backing off of your bundle of nerves and instead opting to flatten his tongue against you, licking a stripe. His tongue then traces your folds before teasing your entrance, threatening to push inside. And he does just that. Eyes rolling back in his head as he stretches you with his tongue.

It has you mewling his name and arching as much as his grip will let you. When his nose makes contact with your clit, your hand in his hair tightens as you practically fuck yourself on his face.

His lips move back up to suck on your clit again, and you whimper at the loss of his tongue, but it is quickly replaced by two fingers curling deep inside you, as deep as he can reach. 𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. Devious eyes watch your face as he curls his digits, scratching that spot that he finds so well.

"Papa- damnit! Satanas, Papa, I'm gonna cum," you warn him, but he's ready for it, only sucking harder at your words. You let out a needy moan as your body shudders around his fingers, juices coating his hand and chin. He doesn't stop until you're done riding out the wave of your orgasm.

Unexpectedly, he snatches you up in a kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on him. "Do you taste that, amore? You on my mouth. There will never be another, you are the only one, I could never want for anyone else." He has your head reeling; he's never been so possessive, and it's hot.

Pulling him down, you both fall back on the plush bed together. His fingers lace with yours and his erection presses against your thigh, still trapped in those unholy tight jeans. Wanting to offer him some relief, you tease your fingers over the large bulge, cupping at it and earning a groan from the man. Clearly, he was in need of some attention, so you pop open the button and slide the zipper down, taking his girth in your hand.

"Cazzo, baby, I need you," his eyebrows knit together as he begs for you.

"Then, take me, Papa," you wink at him, "No need to keep me waiting!"

He chuckles and gives you one more kiss before kicking off his jeans. "This needs to go," he snakes a hand behind your back to unhook your bra, banishing it to the corner with your skirt. His mouth gently teases your nipples as he stretches for the bedside drawer, fumbling for a condom.

Suddenly, he sits up, looking a little frantically at the empty box in the drawer. "Fuck!" He groans, head falling in his hands, "I forgot to send Aether for more..."

"Oooh so that's who does your dirty work, huh?" You tease, sitting up next to him, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It's okay, ya know... Maybe we don't need one."

He gives you a confused look.

"Maybe... maybe it's about time for little Gio to be a big brother, hm?"

His eyes widen, eyebrows raised drastically. He dips his head slightly, reading your face for any sign that this was a joke. "A-are you... Are you s-sure, amore?"

You love those funny little moments when the stuttering Cardinal jumps back out of him again. "Yes," you chew on your bottom lip, cupping his cheek, "I'm sure. Let's have a baby."

For a brief moment, it looked like his brain was short-circuiting. "O-okay," he nods his head, eyebrows softening and a big smile spreading across his face. "You're really sure, Stellina?" He takes his face in your hands, looking all sappy, "You want to have miei bambini?"

"Sì," you nod at his little switch to Italian, kissing him on the nose, "Now are we gonna get all lovey dovey about it, or are you gonna get me pregnant?" Your fingers tease at his erection, still standing proudly.

"Mmm, maybe a little of both, sì?" His lips catch yours again, and the weight of his body pushes your back down onto the bed. You spread your legs for him to get between them, but he simply shakes his head, flipping you over instead. When you look over your shoulder at him, feigning a snooty look, he chuckles deeply before growling in your ear, "You intend to be bred, do you not, Sorella?"

His words make your stomach do flips, and you clench your thighs together at the thought.

Now with you flat on your stomach, Copia's strong hands works the muscles in your back, slowly massaging up from the small of your back to your shoulder blades. "I need you nice and relaxed, principessa." His fingers lace into the base of your hair, tugging your head up to look at him, "You want it to take, sì?"

"Yes, Papa. I do," you moan for him.

"Bene..." He shoves your head back down in the pillows and lands a sharp 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬! on your ass, earning a squeal from you. After he smoothes over the red mark, he lets his hand dip between your thighs. His fingers moving over your folds at this angle feel impeccable.

You push your ass up in the air, trying to get more friction from him, not even understanding how he could be so patient right now. But as if reading your mind, you feel his warm thighs straddle yours and his tip line up with you.

"To feel you so fully and completely, amore mio... I know this will be spectacular," he praises you, pushing forward with a needy groan.

It does feel a little different than what you'd grown used to, hearing a little pop as the tip pushes through your entrance. Things feel somehow smoother than before, maybe from the lack of protection, but maybe you were just that wet. You take him all the way to the hilt, whimpering and moaning into the pillow.

He sets a devilish pace pretty quickly, barely giving you time to get used to the stretch. The discomfort quickly wanes, and you feel your lover's breath hot on your back as he fucks into you in earnest, losing himself in feeling your wet heat unshielded. He leans down to press a few kisses and small bite to your shoulder before he throws his head back, really picking up the pace.

Your hands reach back gripping at his thighs mostly, as your makeup smears across his satin pillowcases.

"Cara... I need- more," he grunts, a small warning before he sits himself up, dragging your hips up off the bed and slams back into you.

"Ah!!!" you scream at the sudden movement, trying to stabilize yourself on your hands and knees. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air alongside your noises of pleasure.

One of Copia's hands leaves your hips to ponytail your hair, pulling harshly to urge you back on his girth with more force.

"Papaaa!" is the only thing you can manage, hardly able to form a thought at this point.

"Mia dolce dea, I'm going to fill you with my seed. I'll make you grow round with my child," he tells you between thrusts, "it will be... 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢, 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘢..."

"Copia, please... Please, touch me, Papa," you cry for him.

Using the grip he maintained on your hair, he heaves you up so you're standing on your knees, back flush against his chest, "You think I would leave mia principessa untouched? What kind of Papa do you think I am?"

Finally releasing your hair, the rough pads of his fingers toy with your nipples. He can't wait until your breasts swell too... Holding you stable with one arm, the other searches for your clit, finding it in expert time. As his finger starts to circle it, you arch your hips back, also aiding him in finding that perfect spot inside you, "Oh! Oh, Satanas Papa! Right 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦- 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱!"

Always a good listener, he does exactly as he's told, holding his pace, snapping up into your heat the exact same way every time. You feel your orgasm rapidly approaching under his ministrations.

"Vieni per me, amore, per favore, vieni per me. I'm cumming- cum with me," he loses himself in the feeling of you. And when you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread deep inside you, it sends you right over the edge with him.

Your lover struggles to hold you close to him as you double over, riding out your release. His hips continue to buck into you in shallow thrusts through his orgasm.

Finally, he sits back on his heels, pulling you with him, cock still stuffed inside you. He throws his head back and rakes his hands through his hair, jaw hung open as he catches his breath. "You are perfetto, amore mio. You know this?" He wraps his arms around you, hugging your torso.

"I'm far from it, Copia." You lean back against him, resting your head against his jaw.

"No, no, no. I will show you how perfect you are. Even if it takes our whole lives, you will know how much you mean to me." He kisses the top of your head, chest still heaving.

"Papa..." you turn, giving him a quick, sloppy kiss, "I love you."

"Anch'io ti amo, cara mia, ti amo così tanto."

[ray935sworld]

Thunderstorm and children's laughter cut-out scene

So basically this is a scene I wanted to include in the main story but at the end it didnt really fit without making the fic even longer, so if you're intrested..

(Can be read alone, I guess, just so you know all the academy boys got de-aged during the night and now rosquez has to deal with them)

It's set during watching cars

Marc ushered his boyfriend inside the kitchen. As soon as he decided they were far enough and the move would cover they conversation, he hissed „Why the fuck are they all like 4 years old?” He was gripping Vale’s arm tightly forcing the older one to look at him.

“How would I know?!” was all he got in response. And he was not satisfied with that. The Italian was letting his frustration and confusion take over. He trusted Marc enough to handle his emotions. There was no need to pretend with him and getting even more exhausted from faking not freaking out over the situation. “I know as much as you do!”  

But his Spaniard stared at him with a look that clearly said ‘Don’t give me that’ and instead matched his sassy energy. “Oh, maybe cause they are YOUR children?” He emphasized the ‘your’ which didn’t help with calming the Italian. “Shouldn’t you know if it’s maybe normal for them to turn into kids? I mean, we were at the same place, had the same drinks and foods. But we are not little. We are adults. Adults like they are supposed to be as well. But your kids are literal kids right now!”

To have it stated like this made him panic. Of course he saw them as his substitute kids. How could he not? He had seen them grow up since they were born, 13, 15 or 18. They had been with him for years, decades. Some of them had even been there when Sic died. He knew how to take care of them, when they were teens or adults. He could manage them.

But child-care? He knew nothing about child-care and he certainly wouldn’t be able to handle 6 energetic kids. He didn’t want to be responsible for them. What if something happened?

“They are not my kids.” He insisted. The panic that had been rising in his chest spoke for him. So his only hope was to point out the missing blood connection. He tried to get his own senses back by doing so. “You know they are not. They-“

“We are not?”

A quite voice made their blood freeze. The words sounded broken and were spoken in high tune. Shocked, they turned around.

Cele was standing there, his big eyes fixed on both of them. He looked even younger and more innocent. His upper lip was wobbling dangerously. There were already tears forming in his eyes. Fuck. Vale immediately knew he fucked up.

He was scratching his brain for a solution. He needed to do something. Fast. “Eh- I… I mean we are family. But we aren’t blood-“ “Of course you are our children” It was either interrupting him or smacking the shit out of the older. Marc had chosen the kid friendly version.

With a smile he stepped next to him and  kneeled down. He softly put his hand on his cheek and wiped the little tear off his skin. “You are our little boy. Our sweet, kind, precious baby. You and your brother. You are our god boys, our lovely children” His voice was filled with warmth. It visibly calmed Cele.

To make him ultimately calm down, he carefully picked him up and placed him on his hip. Immediately he clung to him like his life depended on it. His small hands were wrapped around his torso. Together they looked at Vale who had a guilty look on his face.

“You know, Celin, your papa was just making one of his stupid jokes” “But… But jokes should be funny. Wasn’t funny” he muttered, now hiding his face in his shirt. “No, it really was a bad joke” he agreed. He couldn’t hide the grin. “But you know how he is… And he is old. Back then stuff like that was considered funny” “He really is old”

“Hey! I’m not that old!” He tried to protested. “Corazon, te amo, but you’re older than space shuttles. And DNA fingerprinting and compact disc. Back to the future, another one the dust, star wars 5, teen wolf… Do I have to go on, old man, or should we just go back to watching cars?”

The MotoGP legend was too stunned to speak. Something told him that Marc had at some point prepared those arguments. He had definitely looked up what was older than Vale. Just to mess with him. And now he had the nerves to innocently smile at him as he turned around to leave, the nodding Cele in his arm.

“Cars is younger than him too!” Cele exclaimed and Marc smiled. “That’s right. You’re a very smart boy. But sadly you’re older than Cars too, so I fear that one doesn’t really count”

[ihatedtoadmit]

The Windows To My Soul [2]

pairing: OT8 x fem! reader

genre: soulmates, angst, fluff, crack

warnings: Please read the 'Summary' of this series, all are listed there!

word count: ~2.3k

summary: The two aussies chat with you as some distraction, although anxiety seeps through once you reach their hotel, a strange pain blooming in your ribcage.

↳ Masterlist ↳ Next chapter ↳ Previous chapter

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

"So, Eevee, d’ya live around here?" - Chan asked, as if sensing my derailing thoughts and the distraction I desperately needed. "Haha, naur, Iiii actually come from a really small european country. Very far away from here." "Oh? You're not japanese? You spoke it well, I thought… Anyways, I've always wanted to visit more countries there! Which one are you from?"

I looked at their expecting expressions and desperately held my tongue, trying not to say that BTS actually knew the capital of my country, surprisingly.

"Eh, you wouldn't know anyway, don't worry about it." "Ahw, bummer. Then can ya talk in your mother language for a bit?" - Felix asked with puppy eyes, my heart unable to say no as I lightly chuckled. "Alright, but what should I say?" "How about… Imma catch them all!"

I immediately snorted, slightly shaking my head at the pokemon reference. I looked at Chan to see if he minded, but he simply shook his head with crescent-shaped eyes.

"Alright, here goes. Szerezd meg hát mind!"

Yeah, they looked really fucking confused at me, causing me to burst out in laughter.

"I told you you wouldn't know it!" "I-, well, ya were right, I have not heard that language before." "Neither have I, it sounds weird. Chris, now ya say something, c'mon!"

And for the next few minutes they kept giving me phrases and words, just so I could translate them to my native language. Even chat was confused, none of them getting it right. But they tried, language names flying across the poor phone's screen at a fast pace.

They stopped eventually, the boys giving me some space and talking to the chat in korean -i was grateful for that-, later on saying goodbye to STAY as well. I waved along with them, careful not to have my face seen. It was tiring, to constantly keep it in my mind and position myself accordingly, because I was taller than both the boys and they were the ones holding the phone. So I had to tilt my head slightly downwards at all times, well, if I wanted to remain anonymous that is. And I sure fucking wanted to.

"Alright, we're not far from the hotel now."

Ah, so we had walked so much already. I glanced back subtly out of instinct, checking if the other man -probably their bodyguard or a manager- was still there. Sure enough, he was, positioned just right so he was never in the range of their camera. 

Looking back in front of me after walking for a good 15 minutes or more, I was met with a tall building, most probably a hotel, based on the aesthetic and glowing signs.

I took a deeper breath as I looked up at it, noticing a deep, dull pain in my chest. Thinking I probably fell on it or that my body was just doing its usual randomly hurting thing, I ignored it, sadly quite familiar with the art of pushing away slight pain to the back of my mind.

The boys -and it felt weird to think of them like that so casually- stepped in, Chan holding the door open for me as they started chatting in english. A notion that warmed my heart and calmed my fried nerves, even if only slightly.

They involved me in their chatter a few times, but the anxiety of meeting new people -fucking idols at that- started catching up to me, making me retreat back to my shell and become even quieter than usual. I couldn't help it, I was not a socially well-versed person. Maybe that was why I loved Jisung so much. Birds of a feather and all that.

As if sensing my anxiety, they stopped near a door -probably theirs- and turned around, facing me, who just followed them silently, even in and out of the elevator. I zoned out for the ride, body on mindless auto-pilot.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. They're all friendly and great people, if not too loud. But I'll ask them to take it back a notch today for ya, ‘kay?" - Chan gently said, his words but a quiet whisper. "Yeah, it'll be fine. You're safe here, nobody's gonna do anything to you. Maybe only make ya laugh at bad jokes." -Felix added in with a slight curve of his lips, and I couldn't help but quietly snort at that.

Their smiles both widened in response, expressions turning even more gentle, if that was even somehow possible.

One thing I had caught though was that through the whole thing, Felix's hands were awkwardly moving a bit, hovering in the air sometimes, as if he wanted to grasp onto something, but was unsure about it. Being a STAY, I knew some things about him, like how physically affectionate he was and how it was one of his biggest languages of affection. Slowly putting two and two together, I finally realised he had wanted to touch my hand that wasn't tucked away in my jacket's pocket, unsure if it would grant me comfort or do the exact opposite.

Smiling gently under my scarf, I nodded at them -causing my cap's ears to move, i could see how they glanced at it in amusement-, indicating that I was okay and as ready as I could ever be.

They nodded as well, turning around and going through the door. Glancing back once more, I found no one in the corridor besides us, the bodyguard having left us silently sometime. I furrowed my brows at that, unsure how I hadn’t noticed it happening.

A deep voice calling out to me snapped me back to reality, Felix's head peeking out the doorway to glance at me, worry dancing on his features. I quickly apologised quietly and strode towards him, my legs halting once I reached their doorway.

I felt like an intruder.

It didn't feel right to just go into their hotel room, especially when I knew who they were, without them knowing about it.

I felt guilty, and like a horrible burden.

My unsure hand found Felix's hoodie, as if I was a child grasping onto their parents' clothing. It immediately grabbed his attention, his body now fully standing before me with his attention devoted solely to me.

I didn't deserve it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Ya don't have to meet them all now, or at all, we can work around it, if that makes ya feel better." - his deep voice soothed me, hushing my nervous inner child.

I gently shook my head, not wanting to cause them even more problems by having them dance around me.

"I just… I'm not the most social person, sorry. I just don't want to be a bother to you guys, not even more after all you’ve done already." - I whispered out, afraid of voicing my thoughts as I just looked at the ground, the shiny tiles now looking way more interesting than anything else around me.

His hands found mine, gently squeezing it in comfort before he spoke once more.

"Ya really aren't a bother, trust me. And me and the guys can carry the conversation for you, ya don't even have to join it if ya don't wanna."

I looked down into his warm eyes, finding their shine comforting and genuine.

Gosh, he really was sunshine incarnate.

"You remind me of one of my friends, he has social anxiety too. So don't worry, the guys will understand, really." - he smiled at me before he turned around, making me melt at his care.

I could merely nod and let him guide me into the room at last, Chan most probably wondering where we'd been for so long. But no, there was no sign of him, only his voice could be heard from somewhere deeper in the place.

Felix told me where I could put my jacket and lil backpack after I had taken my boots off, his petite form quickly disappearing from my sight.

I just stood there in my full outfit -minus the boots-, blinking at the place where he had been not even a second ago.

How the fuck did he just do that? Was I so out of it, or did he turn into Sonic the hedgehog in front of my very eyes?

Before I could get back on track and actually get my now too warm jacket off -i was starting to sweat at that point, both from the heat and nervousness-, that little, now maskless menace appeared before me with the baby bread in tow.

"Oh my god!" - Jeongin exclaimed once he had laid eyes on me, his eyes roaming my form before settling on the long ears of my Eevee cap. "Right? So cute!"

They started gushing about it in korean, the little gamers. I just watched them for a bit, before getting an idea.

Taking my cap off and carding a hand through my now very messy hair -although the motion never truly tamed it-, I offered the cap up in their direction after shaking it out a bit. They quieted down, asking if they really could take it in a hushed tone, as if they didn't believe me and my actions. Of course I nodded once again, watching as their smiles lit up their whole faces.

They were like little kids, I swear. And I was younger than them, even if not by a lot, but still…

Either way, I had finally torn my eyes away from the two and took my bag, jacket and scarf off as I was turned away from them, facing the closed front door. I quickly crouched down and searched around in my bag, taking out and putting on a regular, blue hospital facemask I had stashed in there.

No way in hell was I comfortable sitting amidst all those pretty people with my face, even though I had makeup on.

Being done, I stood up and turned around, closing my eyes as I ruffled up my long hair and tried to tame it into its usual place. Amidst that, I simply heard a 'Woah', my eyes popping open and drawn towards the slightly slack-faced Felix. I raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding his behaviour.

"Just, uh, that's quite a vibe change ya got there."

Looking down, I realised what he had meant. Because compared to my quite cute Eevee outfit, I now had all black, form hugging clothes on with almost no skin showing. The accessories I had on were either black or silver too, usually with chains or other 'edgy' motifs on them as well.

Yeah, not exactly cute, as one would say.

But compared to my dark looks, I merely sheepishly rubbed at my nape and looked away, slightly shrugging my shoulders. I felt a bit bad for giving a deceiving first impression, if that made sense, because I never really dressed cutesy and girly, no matter what anyone else wanted or told me it looked good on me.

They both snorted at that, muttering something in korean, before Felix gently took my hand and started dragging me away. Our destination was most probably where the others had gathered, based on how their voices got louder and louder with each step. But throughout our walk, Felix's hold was gentle, something I could easily break free from if I felt the need arise. I couldn't help the lil appreciative squeeze of his hand I had sent him for that.

Entering the living room -because that was the most fitting title i could find for it-, my eyes met with the entire cast of Stray Kids -minus the two accompanying me-, all huddled together on the giant, L-shaped couch. Their heads snapped up to me when Felix announced our presence and released my hand, my form turning rigid in response. Chan -with no mask on- was searching for my gaze, smiling at me once I’d met his eyes.

It didn't help as much as it could have.

They spoke about something in korean, probably introducing me, based on the word Eevee I’d heard and how Felix gestured towards me. I deeply bowed at them, my hands clutched together in front of my form nervously as I tried not to think about how much I wanted to just straight up disappear into the surface of the planet.

The aussies rushed to say I didn't need to be so formal, the others probably saying the same in korean as they raised their hands in protest. Some even almost stood up from their seats.

Great fucking going me, I made them uncomfortable on our first meeting, wonderful.

After each member introduced themselves, some with more sentences and some with less, they gestured for me to sit down. But that meant choosing a seat, and I felt uncomfortable doing that. I didn't want to sit too close for both of our sakes, but I also couldn't sit too far, they would think I hated them or something.

Dear god, why was this so hard? Stupid anxiety.

Eventually, I sat down near one end of the couch, while Jeongin and Felix attacked the already sitting members for cuddles. Mostly Felix, Jeongin just wanted to be a menace and fuck around.

I awkwardly sat there, watching them interact as I kept glancing around the room, from the ground to each member. Minho was intently staring at me, probably analysing if I was a threat or not, but nobody really knew what was truly going on inside his head. So I simply glanced away, fighting with my rising nervousness and that pain in my chest.

Gods, it was becoming worse, did I land on a rib or something?

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