bellxeditions-blog

[mik-mania]

speaking of masks. yall who have masked trolls... how did u come up with the mask designs?

every time i try to make one, it just feels off to me.

also i wrote a novel in the tags about it, but if anyones got some good research sources too, im all ears 👂

[sitaraa--writes]

Making Her Mine

Summary: Rebekah compels Elena to reveal her feelings for you and now your trust is betrayed. Rebekah seizes this opportunity to warm up to you as she has always found you attractive. Hanging out with her escalates to a make-out session as you relish your newfound feelings for her...

Smut, angst, a lil' bit of fluff

Elena cheating on the reader, Elena slander

3K

A/N: This is the first time I've published smut. I hope it's fine (I know it's horrible) otherwise just forget this happened... do let me know if you liked it. Happy reading!

Rebekah Mikaelson X Fem!Reader

Rebekah was dragging Stefan by the arm to the high school library and you trailed behind them, compelled to do as the Original said.

Elena, your girlfriend of two years, gasps and stands up at your arrival. "Stefan, Y/N..."

You shot her a confused look, not understanding why was she so shocked.

Rebekah shot at the brunette. "Did I say you could move?" Elena shot her an exasperated look as she slowly sat down and you moved to sit near her.

She circled you people and spoke loudly in her accented voice. "Class is in session. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly. No disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. That's how you get answers in this town."

Her gaze lingered on you, which made you feel nervous and fidgety. Sure, you didn't show it, but she was a thousand-year-old vampire who could kill you in the blink of an eye, who was currently eyeing you like a predator would do to its prey. "In the year 1114, my brother learned, thanks to yours truly, about a brother of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. These tattoos revealed what, Elena?"

"A map" your girlfriend answered, looking down. "Which led to... Caroline?"

"A cure for vampirism."

"Perfect. So we're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter. But in order to decode the map, you need the location of the hunter’s sword, which you got out of me by using some very dirty tricks. Assuming you found the sword, you also found the cure… and you’re all still vampires. Something went wrong."

She looked at April. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you asked me to take notes."

Rebekah sighed. "Oh, I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice. Which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." The teen left.

At that very moment, the blonde Original appeared oh-so-tempting to you. The way she exercised control over all of you made you feel hot all over. It has happened quite a few times before. But you were with Elena and you had no tolerance for cheaters. There was just something about Rebekah that has always piqued your interest, but then again, loyalty was the most important thing for you. No one else but Elena had a place in your heart all this time.

Stefan grew irritated and straightened up. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."

"So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena. Y/N?"

Suddenly, all eyes in the room stared at you. The tension was so thick, you though a chainsaw was needed to cut through it. You sensed something bad and grew antsy under their collective gazes. "Why are you all staring?"

No answer. "Guys...?"

Rebekah spoke again. "I'm missing something. What is it?"

No one spoke. "I asked you what happened. You have to tell me."

Finally, the younger Salvatore brother spoke. "Elena slept with Damon."

You whipped your head around to look at the mentioned brunette. Hot, white rage was all you felt thrumming in your veins. You were known for your calm demeanor and excellent control over anger, but it was getting really difficult not to claw the doppelganger's eyes out. "What is the meaning of this?!"

The doe-eyed Gilbert just looked down and spoke nothing. She knew how much your relationship meant to you. She knew that once your trust is betrayed, it's over. She knew that loyalty was the most important thing in the entire world to you. And yet she chose to disrespect you. It made you feel so pathetic. Another victim of the Petrova charm putty in the doppelganger's paws. What a bitch. Your eyes burned with hot tears, threatening to fall down. Your throat choked and tightened, making it impossible for you to say another word. No. You thought. You wouldn't shed your tears for a cheater. Tears are so precious; blood flows from the body, tears flow from the soul. Never in your entire life you had felt so insulted and betrayed. I am going to ruin them, you thought. No, I mustn't waste a moment of my life on these worthless assholes. You decided the latter was a better option. No one was as crafty and cruel as you when it came to revenge. You would be consumed by the fire of vengeance. God, you thought you sounded like you were going on a bloodbath. But that's the dark beauty of you...

You subtly took a deep breath and leaned back, your face a stone-cold mask in which even the most observant couldn't find a crack. You felt Rebekah's searing gaze in your bones. And in some way, it made you feel safe. And damn you when you didn't know why...

"So vampire Elena is a trollop who likes bad boys, but it doesn’t explain why sweet, loving, innocent Elena could be so heartless towards Y/N. How could she hurt her like that? Answer, please." The Original said, looking at Stefan.

He sighed as he spoke. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was sired to Damon."

Rebekah smirked. "A sire bond? That’s fascinating. And what do you think about that, Elena?"

Elena spat at her, "I think you’re sad. And bored. And in desperate need of a hobby."

It angered but didn't deter the blonde. She compelled the Gilbert. "You're hiding something. Fess up."

"I didn’t sleep with Damon because I’m sired. I slept with him because I’m in love with him," she spoke in such a way as if she were proud of what she'd done. That was the last straw.

"Fuck you." You spat with so much hatred and venom, that no more words were needed to convey the message: we're over. Then you spun on your heel and stormed out, carrying a kaleidoscope of emotions and the weight of Rebekah's lingering gaze.

You didn't know it at the moment, but you and Elena breaking up might just be the best thing that has happened to the Mikaelson...

It was nearly midnight, and you were at your house alone. You ate an entire tub of vanilla ice-cream, and now you were feeling guilty about it. You could have downed that bottle of Jack and Daniel hidden in your closet, but you decided you were not going to surrender to Damon's coping mechanisms.

Your room looked like a lowkey brothel, complete with silk sheets, roses, scented candles, and dim lighting. Hell, you were dressed in flimsy lace pyjamas, finding them extremely comfortable. But in your taste, it was a much-deserved self-care session.

Flipping through the pages of an erotic novel for the past hour, you got bored. It was so smutty, all the protagonists seemed to do was have sex. You grew irritated, your sex life was in shambles.

Suddenly, the bell rang. At this odd hour, you thought it would be Caroline stopping by with some ridiculously expensive cosmetics for a girl's night in, a not-so-subtle attempt of hers to comfort you. You might've hated Caroline at the moment for keeping Elena's secret, but you guessed you could live with it.

Every pore of your being protested when you rose, wrapped your robe around yourself and climbed down the stairs to open the door. The last person you were expecting to show up on your door was Rebekah Mikaelson.

Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so hot. Like get on your knees right now hot in those tight jeans and spaghetti top. For the first time ever, you could admire her classic, almost divine, beauty without any inhibitions or restrictions. For the first time, you really seemed to take her in. And gods, she was a sight for sore eyes. And damn you for wanting to bite that red lip and tear off her clothes.

You snapped out of it when she smirked. The look in her eyes made you weak in the knees. You knew that she knew of the effect she had over you.

You cleared your throat. "Rebekah, was an entirely unexpected surprise. How can I help you?"

She smiled. "Well, for starters, you could invite me inside..."

You knew it was dangerous. But you were so desperately praying for something to happen. You didn't care about the consequences. You wanted her so bad, you felt it in your bones, the desire running deep in your veins.

"Alright, would you like to come in?"

She looked surprised for a moment that you gave in so easily. But then she smiled wide and said, "I would love to." Then she stepped inside. Your heart hammered crazily in anticipation.

"Where shall I keep these?" She asked, holding up her arms. Then you noticed that she had a couple of bags looped in her arms. "I brought wine and something to munch."

You softened. "Oh, you didn't need to..."

"Oh, of course I do." She smiled softly.

You helped her with the bags to the kitchen. "Rebekah, this is a lot..." you began but she waved you off. You couldn't believe that an Original vampire was in your house in the middle of the night, who brought very costly wine and snacks to last an entire month. The blonde standing in front of you was the supposed nemesis of your friends, but what happened today was your defense.

"But why?"

"Well, that doppelganger bitch hurt you, and I was the one who meddled and you found out like this. So I guess I owed you one."

"No, no! I owe you one. I probably wouldn't have known for a longer period of time and that would've been so pathetic."

"Still... well, I hate her and you do too. So I thought that it's not such a bad idea to bond over our mutual loathing for her and maybe plot our revenge?" She said with that cute little smirk, making me laugh.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Nothing cheesy."

"You think so? Elena ought to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever."

She rolled her eyes. "Thought so,".

"Come on,"

You guided her upstairs to your bedroom, and you were really, really nervous. Your heart was beating so loudly that you knew all too well that she could hear it.

Rebekah was in a frenzy of lust and excitement. She'd dreamt of this a little too many times and now it was real. You were the loveliest creature she'd ever encountered and she thought that you were really strong, funny and protective. And she really seemed to enjoy the not-so-decent outfit you were clad in.

The blonde glanced around your room and smirked in an almost-appreciative way. You felt a bit embarrassed about your clothes and your room, but hey, we all have those moments.

You put on a thriller on your laptop as you both sat comfortably on your post bed, with a huge bowl of chips to snack on.

About an hour must have passed in comfortable silence, and your dirty thoughts were put to rest for a while too as you focused on the complex plot of the movie. Then your patience was about to be tested.

An intimate scene was displayed on the screen and you froze. You became antsy as your thighs came in contact with Rebekah's hand. The tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. Your unbridled lust and roaring desire for her was consuming you and you couldn't control yourself as you turned to face her.

She was thinking the same thing as you and your lips collided. Your tongues fought for dominance as you explored every corner of her mouth, her doing the same.

It was a passionate, rough, and all-consuming kiss that had you moaning in her mouth and both of you had your eyes closed in bliss. She cupped your face while your hands tangled themselves in her golden locks.

It was so exhilarating, and you had just kissed... you were almost scared to know where the night would lead you.

Your lungs burned for oxygen but kissing her seemed the best way to die. Finally, you parted, gasping for air.

"That was..." you began, panting.

"Amazing," she finished, holding your eyes. You leaned in for another kiss, but she beat you to it. You kissed her senseless and your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as you began undressing her. Kissing her was your new favourite thing to do.

Her lips moulded perfectly into yours. The purpose of your life was to be hers, and at that very moment, everything was forgotten. She followed your actions and undid the flimsy lace and pushed you down, making you lie down.

The two of you were completely bare as your eyes met. You could drown and die in the blue ocean of her eyes. It was like being reborn. Her eyes held a challenge, promised an adventure and you reveled in the anticipation, the thrill and in her amorousness.

She raked her eyes all over your body and your every pore, every limb shook in bliss and ecstasy. "Damn, you're gorgeous..."

You smiled in satisfaction at her words and pulled her down to mesh your lips together.

Her lips slowly moved down to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of love bites all over. Lewd, wet sounds filled your ears as you flushed. She was a heady mixture. Slowly, very slowly, she moved down to the little dent at the base of your neck, then placed ticklish, feather-light kisses on your prominent collarbone. She kissed and licked through the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and your sensitive lower stomach.

She placed kisses along your waistline, making you gasp and moan into the silk-covered pillows. Your toes curled in pleasure when you felt her hot breath fanning over your womanhood. She had barely begun and you were already dripping wet.

The blonde moved down to kiss your inner thighs. So close but not giving you what you want.

"Rebekah, please..." you pleaded with her. Her eyes were a mixture of lust and amusement. "Please what?"

"Touch me!"

"Where?" She was such a tease. You grew frustrated and you grabbed her hand and guided it between your parted thighs. A loud, throaty gasp escaped your mouth as her fingers worked their magic upon your wet, slippery folds. You almost tore the sheets your fingers were gripping and you buried your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. But you decided against it. You wanted her to hear you. You wanted her to know just how good she was making you feel. Your body was so responsive to her touches .

Just then, her fingers hit that spot and you cried out in pure pleasure. You felt the pleasure building up and the sounds leaving your mouth resonated in every nook and corner of your house.

"Do you want me to stop?" she questioned innocently, but you knew all too well. "Shut up," you barely managed to say between your uncontrollable moans.

You wanted to tell her that you were going to reach your release, but the pleasure was too much and all you could think about was how good she was.

You started shaking and almost screaming as you reached your precipice. You quite literally saw stars as you came. Rebekah's gaze upon you was that of pure worship as she licked her fingers which were coated with your arousal. Then she leaned in to kiss you deeply and you could taste yourself on her lips. "You're so pretty..." she whispered, almost as if in a daze. You smiled and grabbed her my the arms, helping her lie down.

"My turn now," you spoke, aspiring to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You pulled her in for another searing kiss as you parted her thighs. Moving down, you maintained eye contact as you stuck out your tongue and tasted her. You'd never heard anything sexier than the gasp that left her lips when you did.

Soon, your tongue circled and lapped over her folds. Her throaty moans were music to your ears. You pulled back just when she was about to reach her high, deciding to use your fingers. Her sweet moans might as well would've been heard by the neighbours as you pleasured her all night long and to the breaking of dawn.

You both lay bare barring the sheet covering you as you watched the sun rise. To you, it felt surreal and as if it were a dream.

"I've wanted this for so long," Rebekah softly confessed. "When I met you first, I thought you were really pretty, like a royal. Your wit and wordplay is unmatched. I love how strong you are, how you don't need anyone to fight for yourself and how you're so ambitious. But you were with Elena and-" you silenced her with a kiss.

"You've no idea for how long I've wanted this too. But I'm afraid that with the arrival of the dawn, I'd wake up and all of this would be nothing but a dream." You spoke softly.

"Trust me, your screams last night were very real,"

You laughed as you kissed her. She pulled you into her arms for another round. And sure enough, the hickeys covering you were very real...

[homunculus-argument]

I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of alcohol/drinking, pining, a little angst

summary: steve meets you at eddie’s show and even though you’re feeling a little weird and nervous about what you two are doing, you ultimately decide that there’s a first time for everything

CHAPTER THREE | ❝𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅❞

Fall Semester 2015

Eddie was good. Like, really good.

So good that you had to keep reminding yourself to not ogle at his hands on the guitar, seamlessly moving from chord to chord, or focus too hard on the almost too pretty sound of his voice. 

You silently wondered— as he and his band finished out the last few moments of the song they were rehearsing— if you would be feeling this way as you watched him practice if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him. Or maybe this would’ve ended up being the moment you realized everything, instead of that moment happening in his dorm room just a few weeks ago.

You still hadn’t decided how to tell him, you also still weren’t sure if you even wanted to tell him at all. If you said something and he didn’t feel the same way, you had a feeling that it would mess everything up between you and him, and ultimately ruin this friendship that felt so important to you. 

Therefore, you were leaning more toward never telling him how you felt, or at least waiting for the perfect moment to do so. However, you didn’t know what would necessarily deem a moment as “perfect.” Maybe one day it would just feel right to finally utter the words to him? You weren’t entirely sure. 

For the time being, you pushed those confusing thoughts to the side, and in this moment you simply focused on the final notes of the song being played out, marking its end, and then Eddie placing his guitar down. 

“You guys are really good,” You said from where you sat barely five feet away because of how small the garage was; you couldn’t remember if this was Gareth’s place, Jeff’s, or Doug’s. “Like, really, really good. It’s actually kind of insane.” 

Eddie smiled at you. “I think you’re our number one fan now.”

“I feel honored to hold that title.”

He walked over to where you were sitting. “You wanna come with me to get the pizza?”

His question was one that you didn’t need to outwardly respond to because the answer was obvious. You simply nodded as you stood up from your chair and walked with him to his van. 

You’d go anywhere with Eddie— and that fact was the main reason why you were currently spending your Saturday in his hometown two hours away from your guys’ college, instead of holed up in the library studying for midterms. 

“I think I get it,” You said, gazing out the window as he drove and watching the small empty fields and random houses pass by in a blur. 

“Get what?”

“Why you wanted to leave here,” You answered, turning to look at him even though his eyes were focused on the road. “It’s so small and quiet. I honestly can’t even imagine you growing up here.”

“There was a record store across town that I really loved, and it was probably the only thing that kept me sane growing up,” He briefly explained and you nodded. “And my uncle. And the guys too. We’ve been doing the whole band thing since middle school.”

The thought of an eleven year old Eddie singing and playing guitar sounded quite adorable to you. 

“That’s so cute.”

Eddie laughed. “Cute was not what we were going for.”

“Sorry, what I meant to say was, that’s so cool and rock ‘n roll.” 

“Solid save.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You have to take me to your hometown next,” He said, taking a brief look over at you as he kept driving. 

You shook your head. “Definitely not gonna happen, and not just because we’d have to take a two hour plane ride to get there.”

“Come on, I brought you here.”

Just for a second, you let yourself think about the suburban town you grew up in states away; a town that you also couldn’t wait to get out of because, just like Eddie’s, it felt way too quiet and small. You tried to briefly imagine him walking down the streets you used to walk to get to school or the park that you had liked to spend most of your free time at reading, but you couldn’t see it. You could barely even see yourself doing any of that anymore. 

“This is different. You want to come here,” You told him. “Aside from my parents, and that’s only sometimes, there’s nothing that makes me wanna go back to my hometown.”

You tried your hardest not to think about how actually saying that out loud made you feel a little sad. 

“So, no band with old friends that makes you wanna go back most weekends?” Eddie asked, purposefully trying to lighten the mood, which you were grateful for. 

You gave him a small smile. “Nope, none of that.” 

That was why you liked him, he read you well and knew the right moments to shift any conversation. 

There was a part of you that wanted to just admit to him how you felt right there in his van. Let the words leave your lips and simply see what would happen. 

But then he was pulling into the parking lot of the pizza place and the moment felt effectively over. And a part of you was glad for that. 

It wasn’t that difficult to pretend that nothing had changed for you and that you still only saw him as your best friend. You honestly found pretending to be the easiest thing to do. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

“Robin just texted me saying, “Tell Eds I’m there in spirit. When in actuality my spirit is dead because this essay is killing me.” So yeah, she’s not coming tonight.”

“Damn, so that means I won’t hear her overenthusiastic “woo’s” after we finish every song.” 

You playfully smiled at Eddie. “I can take over that job for the night if you want.”

“That would be great,” He responded, smiling back. “We need to prove that we have at least one excited fan.”

“Okay, then I’ll make sure to take my job as your number one fan very seriously tonight,” You told him before taking a sip from your drink and then placing it back atop the high wooden table you two were standing on opposite sides of that was a bit wobbly. “I swear we always somehow end up at this specific table.”

“Either that, or they’re all fucked up.” 

“True,” You said and nodded, but you had a feeling that it was probably the same one because you and everyone always ended up occupying the same cluster of tables that were to the right of the small stage— a stage that was currently set up because he was performing in less than twenty minutes. 

You had shown up with Eddie and the rest of the band an hour earlier; which was pretty much a routine when it came to the biweekly gig Corroded Coffin had here. Aces was one of the few bars in town that was actually not frequented by college kids because they were really strict about their carding policies and could spot a fake ID from a mile away. However, Rick, the owner, loved Eddie and the band, so exceptions were made for them; and by extension you and your other friends too.  

You texted Robin back “Your screaming will be missed<3,” and then got a notification for a text from Steve that said, “Just parked.”

“Um, Steve just got here, so I’m gonna go out and grab him.”

“Okay,” Eddie said and then shook his head in what seemed like both disbelief and surprise. “I still can’t believe how good Friday night went for you two.” 

“Yeah, I’m surprised too. I didn’t expect this to happen,” You told him, which technically wasn’t that much of a lie. You really hadn’t expected that night to lead to you fake dating Steve barely a day later. 

The cold night air immediately hit you when you walked outside, even the jacket you were wearing wasn’t enough to keep you warm, so you crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Steve. You were suddenly glad that you opted against wearing a skirt tonight and decided to settle on a pair of jeans. 

It was a solid three minutes of you looking both ways down the street and waiting for Steve to eventually come into view. And when he finally did, you met him halfway. 

“Jesus, how far did you park?” 

“Way too far.”

Steve fell into step with you as you walked back to the front door. You noticed him look up at the faded sign that had the bar’s name on it and then it seemed as if he realized or remembered something. “Aren’t they really strict at this place?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” You answered with a quick shrug before grabbing his hand to keep him close to you as you walked past the small-ish line of people waiting to get their ID checked and get into the bar. You gave a quick smile to Jacob, the bouncer and also Rick’s brother, who was letting you through with no hesitation. “Thanks, Jacob.”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh once you two were fully inside the small and darkly lit bar. “Okay, that was actually pretty cool.” 

You were about to respond to him with some playful joke about how getting into this place both for free and without an ID was probably the coolest thing about you, but then your eyes were on Eddie. He was saying something to the guys as they headed over to the packed bar and then he was left alone at the haphazardly pushed-together tables. Suddenly, you felt nervous and also a bunch of other things that were entirely indecipherable at the moment. 

You turned to look at Steve. “Okay, so, um, how thick are we laying it on right now?”

Instead of answering your question, he seemed to sense your nervousness, so he gave your hand that was still holding his a quick squeeze. “Just chill. Don’t worry.” 

That honestly didn’t do anything to calm your nerves or make you not worried about what you two were about to do. But, it was also weird because even though you were nervous, you didn’t want to back out of doing it. 

“Where is he?” Steve asked.

You simply nodded in the direction of the table Eddie was standing at. 

“Okay, come on,” He said and as you two walked over to the table, he readjusted your hands so that they were intertwined, which made holding hands with him feel a thousand times more intimate. And that was probably exactly why he did it, you realized. 

“Hey,” He greeted Eddie with a smile. 

“Hey, man,” Eddie responded. “Cool seeing you here.”

“Yeah, glad I can finally catch a show.” 

You stopped paying attention to what they were saying, and it wasn’t really on purpose, it was just that all you could focus on right then was Steve’s subtle movements— his hand pulling away from yours and him shifting closer to you so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders instead. He was so smooth and easy with it, meanwhile you were contemplating if you seemed too tense or if your face looked uncomfortable. 

Maybe some practicing would’ve been good before jumping into the deep end of this whole thing. But, what would practicing have even entailed? Steve holding your hand or keeping his arm around you until you felt completely normal about it? That sounded almost too embarrassingly stupid. 

He had done pretty much the same things Friday night on your date— you remembered him holding your hand and wrapping an arm around you during the movie and feeling entirely okay about it; he had even kissed you that night and initially, you had been completely okay before you got too in your head about everything— but this, for obvious reasons, felt entirely different. The point now was to look super into it, and you felt yourself slowly folding under the pressure. 

“Did you tell him about game night?” 

It took you a second to realize Eddie was talking to you because your mind was in an entirely different place right then. You barely even heard the question he asked you. 

“Yeah, she did,” Steve said, saving you. “I’ll be there.” 

“Great, we’ll actually have even teams for once,” Eddie said to you.  

“Talia’s gonna hate that. She loves being referee,” You responded, finally finding your voice and actually managing to feel the tiniest bit normal for a moment. 

“No, she won’t because she’s gonna have the best Pictionary player on her team.” 

You rolled your eyes at that because you knew he was referring to himself. “Vickie is the best at Pictionary, actually.” 

“Okay. Second best.”

“I think Robin’s second, but you’re definitely third because me and Talia are equally bad at that game.”

“Fine, I’ll take third,” Eddie responded. “Unless Harrington here has a secret talent?” 

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m terrible at drawing.” 

Eddie smiled at that. “You two will make a great team then.” 

“I think our bad drawing skills will cancel each other out and we’ll actually end up being really good,” You said, mostly kidding with your words.  

“Or we’ll be worse,” Steve said. 

“It’s very sad to see that you have no faith in us,” You joked, looking up at him, and he only laughed in response.

He and Eddie went into talking about an assignment for the class they had together, and you attempted to pay attention to their conversation, but your mind went right back to overthinking everything. You wondered whether or not things looked real or if it all seemed entirely forced and out of place. 

Steve was doing pretty much all of the work right then at making this newfound relationship look believable, and your only job was to pretend that you were happy to lean into his touch and to make it seem like you were at least a little enamored by him, which was easier said than done. You were now discovering that acting wasn’t your strong suit. 

They continued talking for the next minute or two before Eddie was saying that he needed to head on stage. “I’ll see you guys after.”  

You nodded and said a simple “Good luck,” and then he walked away, joining Gareth, Jeff, and Doug on stage. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you’d been holding. 

“You okay?” Steve asked once Eddie was out of earshot. His arm dropped from around you, but he still stayed close. “I know we shook hands on it and everything, but we really don’t have to do this. It’s fine if you wanna back out.”

“No, I’m okay. I just didn’t expect this to feel so weird? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but yeah… I swear I’m fine, though, I’ll get better at,” You briefly gestured between you and him. “This whole thing.”

The last time you were so outwardly physically affectionate with someone was years ago; a high school relationship that ended just as quickly as it had started. You weren’t used to this anymore, and maybe it was dumb to think that it would be easy to do it, especially with someone you didn’t really even know that well.

“We don’t have to do this,” Steve reminded you.  

“No, I want to. Honestly,” You assured him, and surprisingly that still felt mostly true.

“When’s game night?”

“Tomorrow,” You answered, forgetting that that had been brought up in the conversation with Eddie. “It’s a once-a-month thing we do at the apartment.”

“Got it,” He said with a nod.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t wanna. It’s mainly just three hours of all of us screaming at each other,” You briefly explained. “That’s the reason why we only do it once a month. Friendships would be ruined if we made it a weekly thing.”

“Sounds deadly.” 

“Very much so.” 

“Also, sounds fun.”

You let out a laugh. “Didn’t peg you for a masochist, Steven.” 

He ignored that. “Do you want me to come tomorrow?” 

You took a moment to actually consider his question. Everyone else was gonna have to meet him eventually, especially if you wanted to make it seem like you “really liked him,” so maybe it would be best to just rip off the band-aid and do the introductions sooner rather than later. 

“Yeah, I do,” You ultimately answered. “You should come. I think it’ll be good.” 

Before he could even say anything in response, the band started playing and every conversation happening in the small bar became drowned out by the music. You bopped your head and softly sang along to the songs you knew, which were pretty much all of them aside from a few new covers they decided to do. And you, of course, loudly applauded and excitedly shouted after every song, just like you told Eddie you would. 

“Wow,” Steve said at one point, mouth close to your ear so that you could hear him over the music. “It’s so obvious that you like him. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to witness heart eyes in real life.”  

You playfully nudged him. “Shut up.” 

You had a feeling that he was mostly joking with his words, but still, you couldn’t help but think, Did it really look that obvious? 

You turned to look at Steve and were about to ask him what exactly looked so obvious and how was he so easily able to notice something that Eddie somehow never had. 

However, you immediately noticed that his attention was on a girl across the bar who was looking right back at him with a matching smile on her face. 

“Keep it in your pants tonight, Harrington,” You told him, elbow bumping his side again. “And until the end of February too.” 

“I know. Sorry,” Steve said, looking away from the girl and back at the stage.

“Y’know, I was mostly joking last night when I said that not dating anyone this month would probably be hard for you. But, now seeing that it actually is hard for you, I’m just concerned. There are tons of support groups that you can join to help with this problem,” You said, trying your hardest to keep a straight face as you said your words, but ending up smiling the entire time. 

“Ha ha,” He said sarcastically, which only made you smile more. 

You focused back on Eddie, listening as he said that he was about to perform what would be the last song of the night. You shouted happily in anticipation and smiled at him when his eyes met yours. 

Once again, you couldn’t help but wonder, Was it obvious?

At some point during that final song, Steve placed an arm around you again, and it surprisingly didn’t feel all too weird that time around. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki

[urfavlarry]

Alastor x insomniac!reader

A/N: this one is a bit short since i didn’t really have ideas to make this longer but I think it turned out pretty well! and reader is gender neutral<3

warnings: swearing,mentions of abuse, reader having nightmares, bad grammar

genre: slight angst but mostly fluff :3

summary: reader had nightmares and goes for a walk to the hotels library not many residents know of! And you just happen to come across the radio demon himself

3rd person POV

You stir in your sleep, you’ve been trying to fall asleep for 4 hours now and its currently 3am. You groan and turn towards the clock beside you on the bedside table. You close your eyes and you finally drift off into a slumber.

You wake up in a home, your home from when you were alive. You sit up from the floor you were sitting down and look down. You were a human again and you were sitting in the bathroom. You suddenly hear yelling and banging and you quickly open the bathroom door and run down the stairs, running down the hall to the kitchen. Your eyes widen as you see your father and mother yelling and you back up towards the wall. Your father notices you and starts screaming foul things at you and you try to get out of the room but he grabs a fist full of your hair and pushes you into the kitchen. You curl up into a ball and cry to yourself when you suddenly jolt awake, tears streaming down your face. “Fuck..” You choke out and quickly wipe your tears as you sob and bring your knees to your chest. You look at the time and only 17 minutes passed from when you last fell asleep. You sigh and swing your legs from the bed and go grab some socks. You put them on and leave your room and lock it behind you, putting the keys into your pjs pocket.

You walk down the hall to the elavator and go up to the highest floor where the library is. You’ve never really seen anyone go up there other then Charlie when she brings new books that she things you would be interested in. So it was your quiet spot for when you had a lot on your mind and wanted some time for yourself. You feel the elavator stop so you walk down the dark hallway and open the library doors. They were old and had beautiful rose carvings in it with golden touches here and there. You smile softly at the sight as you walk into the library but your smile drops when you see someone had turned on the light. “Someone is here.” You think to yourself and sigh in annoyance but walk on the old red carpet that was on the library’s floor. The library was big, the center was in a circle shape and had two long halls filled with bookshelves and some seating areas. In the center an old chandelier hung from the ceiling that had beautiful renaissance inspired art with more carvings of roses. It also had two floors full of every book you could think of from the living world and hell aswell.

Your vision was a bit blurry since the light only lit up the center so you quickened your pace when you suddenly saw a familiar pair of red ears. Your breath hitches and you stop and freeze in your place. No you didn’t really have a problem with Alastor but you were quite scared of him to say the least. He was a feared Overlord after all. You look away for a second and look back but you notice the pair of ears disappeared. You look around in a slight panic when you feel a presence behind you. You step back slightly and you hit someones chest and turn around im a swift movement and see the familiar sinister smile that everyone was so scared of.

“Good evening dear, what are you doing up at this ungodly hour?” Alastor asks with his usual grin, putting away the book he was reading that was now long forgotten. He straightens his suit, dusting himself off and looks back at you awaiting your answer. “I um couldn’t sleep, so I just wanted to come here to maybe pass some time.” He hums in acknowledgement and studies your figure like you were his next meal, which wouldn’t surprise you if you were. Your eyes were red and puffy from you crying and you looked quite shaken, still having the nightmare fresh in your mind. “Well I suppose I wont push you to tell me more, how about I read to you so we can pass the time together? Come along now darling I won’t take no for an answer.~” He says turning around to go grab the book he was reading and goes to sit down at one of the many seating areas in the library, expecting for you to follow behind. You sit down next to Alastor, making sure to keep your distance since you knew he was a bit.. how do you put this lightly? Bitchy, when someone invaded his personal space.

He eyes you for a second, opening his mouth to say something but decided against it and opens the book, making sure to start from the beginning so you’re not confused about anything. You listen to him closely, imagining the characters and scenes as if you were in the book yourself. You slowly start to tune him out, your eyes and head feeling heavy as you fight back a yawn. Your head starts to dip to the side and your consciousness starts to slip out of your grasp.

Alastors POV

My ears perk up, when I suddenly feel weight on my lap. I lift the book up a bit and see Y/N laying in my lap. “I guess they finally found peace in their dreams after all.” I think to myself and put the book away, playing with their soft hair. I stop myself and rethink my actions; “Why is it that I don’t mind their touch? Why am I feeling this way? I’m a feared Overlord? Am I perhaps going soft?” I think to myself and look down at the sleeping demon once again. Their soft snores echo slightly through the library and I sigh, smiling softly.

“I’ll let it slide, just this once.” I roll my eyes and pick up the book once again and continue where I left off.

3rd person POV

Charlie walks through the halls of the hotel with seversls books in her hand, Vaggie helping her out not wanting her girlfriend to struggle all by herself. They walk to the elavator and go up to the library. Vaggie raises a brow as she has never really been to this part of the hotel and walks down the hall to the old doors. They open it and walk in, noticing the light was on and see the familair deer demon from a distance. Vaggie rolls her eyes, mumbling some incoherent Spanish words Charlie doesn’t even bother trying to understand, knowing it’s probably just profanities towards Alastor.

As the walk closer they find a familiar demon laying their head on Alastors lap and Vaggie takes out her spear, ready to slit the radio demons throat when suddenly Alastor brings his pointer finger to his lisp, shushing the couple; “Shh, they’ve had a tough night, it’s best if we let the poor dear sleep the day away if they wish.” He says in a hushed tone and grins at the couple, maybe slightly glaring at the angered woman pointing a sharp spear towards him. Charlie nods and fights back her squeals and places the books down carefully in their spots, Vaggie helping her out but still glances your way just in case the sadistic Overlord tries anything. Alastor just stares right back, sometimes even making himself look a bit more terrifying with the radio dials and creepy smile, returning back to normal the moment Charlie looks his way. They leave the room shortly after and you start to wake up from the sound of doos shutting.

You groan a bit and go to sit up when you see you’re not in your room like usual and that you slept a bit too peacefully today. You look up and see the radio demon grinning up at you and you flinch back, almost falling off the coach you were sleeping on a few moments ago.

You yelp and quickly stand up to get away from the man, not wanting to face him after sleeping on him the whole night when he suddenly speaks up; “Don’t be afraid to come find me again when you have trouble sleeping my dear, i’d be more then happy to help you fall asleep once more, maybe make this a routine, hm?” Your breath slightly hitches and you just nod, speed walking away and leave the library, not wanting to be in his presence any longer than you already were.

Alastor smiles to himself, hoping you would take his offer up and that you really would make this a routine.

[wonustars]

𝙀𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧

Part 1. | Soobin Vers. | Yeonjun Vers.

Summary:  After an eventful study session with Beomgyu, you thought things between you would turn out well. Instead he’s not to be seen for two weeks. Leaving you confused and feeling rejected.

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: enemies to lovers, jealous!beomgyu, jealous!reader, wolfcut!gyu, nonidol!au, university au, skater!gyu, fluff, angst, lots of arguing. (if i missed any warnings let me know)

Warnings: smut mdni! bigdick!gyu, dom!gyu, sub!reader, pet names, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, oral (f.receiving), fingering, spanking (f. receiving), cockwarming, multiple orgasms, praising and degrading.

Wordcount: 5876

It’s been exactly two weeks since you had last seen Beomgyu. After the eventful study session for your project, he had seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. He hadn’t even been spotted at the local skate park. And one thing about Beomgyu was that he was always there. Always. Loitering and fooling around with his other skater friends. A part of you felt a twang of disappointment. Did he regret sleeping with you that one time? Even though there was a consensus that you both had enjoyed it? 

You’re reading your textbook, each line blurring into a jumble of nonsense. It has been hard to focus because of the confusion Beomgyu seems to have caused. You’ve been silently searching for him around campus hoping that he would randomly turn up. He hasn’t even been attending your shared biology class. Not that he even needed to, Beomgyu was naturally smart, infuriatingly enough. 

You groan in annoyance, all these thoughts about your last hook-up with the person you thought you hated have become a nuisance. You haven’t been able to think straight since then, especially knowing that you have no clue how Beomgyu had felt after everything happened. Your textbook is now propped up on the table, covering you as you run your hands through your hair. A small habit that seemed to have intensified these last few weeks. 

Deciding to finally give up on your lousy attempt to finish your homework, you get up to put back the textbook into its rightful place. Mentally cursing Beomgyu for causing you to not be able to think properly. 

Your chair lightly scrapes the floor as you stand up to head to the bookshelves. The library has been your new designated study area. Not only is it quiet enough to keep you busy, but it is also the only spot on campus that doesn’t remind you of him. The smell of all the old books gave you a sense of comfort and there was enough natural light to keep you from going crazy. You especially enjoyed the way the rain would hit the windows, leaving a pitter-patter sound that lulled you into a perfect rhythm to study. 

As you walk to the biology section of the library a flash of black and white hair catches your attention. You stop in your tracks and your heart plummets to the floor in mere seconds. You turn to look and low and behold it's the last person you had expected to see in your little sanctuary. He’s currently pressed up against a random girl, caging her between his tall frame and the bookshelf. Their faces connected, obnoxiously making out in a secluded corner. His long hair was still the same as you remembered. Long, soft and perfectly framing his face. You couldn’t help but stand there partly in shock and partly in disappointment. He’s been here this whole time? Maybe he was ignoring you. You never wanted to admit it to yourself because of the feeling it gave you, but now it seems like the only reasonable explanation.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, they stop their makeout session and Beomgyu turns and sees you staring at the two of them. He looks shocked, almost as if he’s been caught. Your eyes widen, and a cold sweat runs down the back of your neck. He pulls himself out of her grasp and is in the process of shouting your name. Before he could advance any further you quickly turn around abandoning your textbook onto the closest shelf. Your mind running a million miles an hour, and your body responding before you could think properly. At this point, you’re practically sprinting out of the library, and your speed causes a few students to turn their heads to look at you. You couldn’t care less, you just want to get out of there. 

Beomgyu must’ve lost track of you because he’s nowhere to be seen at this point. Your hands are on your knees, trying your best to catch your breath. Your daily study session at the library has now made an unexpected turn. Thinking back to what you witnessed makes your heart ache with confusion and a little bit of jealousy. Even though Beomgyu isn't yours and he can fuck anybody he wanted, you still feel a bit of sorrow. You presumed something had changed between you two after that day, but you didn’t expect it to be a negative one. 

Sighing in defeat you decide that this would be the last time that you were going to think about the stupid boy and his stupid highlights. Whatever, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, you thought. Wanting to exchange the feelings of rejection for anger, you stomp back to your apartment not wanting to continue reliving the dreadful scene in your head

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤  “The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain.”

The following day you headed to your biology class as usual, except this time the usually empty seat next to yours is filled. The back of Beomgyu’s head burns into your vision. Instead of picking somewhere else to sit you decide to stop being a little bitch and sit in your usual spot. Taking a seat, you don’t even bother to glance at the boy sitting next to you. Instead, you focus all your attention on the front of the class, shifting uncomfortably in your seat every so often. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be saying a word either, for the past hour he’s been jotting down notes seriously. In most cases, this would be a relief but because of the amount of tension between you, this produces more anger in you rather than content. Before you know it the class ends and you're left to pick up your things and head to the dining hall to get some lunch. That is until your ears perk up at someone calling your name from across the room. 

“Hey Y/n! Wait up for me?” Someone running behind you asks. You turn to see that Soobin is taking long strides toward you, trying to get your attention. At the same time from the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu turn his head in curiosity. 

You stop in your tracks to face Soobin, a sweet smile spreads across your face. 

“Hi Soobin! To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you today?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve interacted with the man, but it's rare. Rare enough that you are always shocked by how tall he is every time you have the chance to talk to him. His blond hair is slightly covering his eyes; you can’t help but notice how cute he looks in a pair of glasses.

“There's something that I wanted to ask you actually..” He scratches the back of his neck feeling nervous. You raise your eyebrows as you look at him, now you’re even more curious. What you don’t notice is Beomgyu trying to listen in on your conversation. 

“Okay, what is it?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cafe across campus with me tonight?” He blurts out, a hue of red growing on his cheeks, the tips of his ears also a shade of pink in embarrassment. You let out a small laugh because of how endearing you find him.   

“Sure! I’d love to, I'll meet you there at 7?” Finalizing your plans with him, and you finally feel good about yourself for the first time in two weeks. 

You leave the lecture hall, failing to notice Beomgyu’s figure still standing by your shared desks. Too caught up in talking to Soobin to detect the energy of anger radiating off Beomgyu’s body. He can’t help but wonder if you had feelings for Soobin. What if you preferred Soobin over him? At this point you probably did, after all that he’s done. Even then, Beomgyu still felt like Soobin didn’t deserve your attention, not even a date to the cafe. 

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤ 

Right at seven p.m. you enter the small cafe located across your campus. You felt excited to go on this date considering it's been a while since you entertained the thought of seeing someone romantically. Thoughts of Beomgyu slowly melted away whilst Soobin started to occupy a new spot in your mind. It gave you relief, constantly wondering about Beomgyu gave you an abnormal amount of stress. Tonight isn’t about him though, it’s about you and your time with Soobin. 

The cafe was adorable. Decorations are carefully placed around the venue leaving a cute and comfortable vibe. Spotting Soobin sitting in a booth by the window, you call out his name and he looks up and smiles at you; showing off his dimples. 

“Hey! Should we go and order our drinks?” Soobin asks you, he stands up to greet you with a hug. You lean into the hug and his warmth envelopes you. A sigh is drawn out of you, not being able to remember the last time you received such soft affection. You could get used to this, you thought. Soobin was homely, and he would never confuse you the way Beomgyu does.

“Yeah let’s go.” You smile, taking his hand and walking with him to the counter. 

The both of you order your drinks taking a seat at the booth Soobin was previously sitting at before. A bell rings throughout the cafe, causing you to turn to see who walks in. Unfortunately, it's none other than Choi Beomgyu, who always seems to rain on your parade. You attempt to take your eyes off him but it’s like he's got you in a trance.

Beomgyu takes a brief look around the quiet cafe before he eventually ends up spotting you and Soobin sitting in the corner. A smirk already appears on his face, the mischievous look in his eyes emphasizes as he walks towards you two. Whatever he had planned, you already know it wasn’t going to be something you would enjoy. 

“Soobin! Y/n! Fancy seeing you guys here” He feigns surprise already sitting into the seat beside you, lodging himself in the middle of your date.

“Hey Beomgyu!” Poor, kind, and naive Soobin greets him, not knowing Beomgyu’s plan just yet. 

“What are you two doing here?” Beomgyu asks.

“Beomgyu. Soobin and I are on a date.” You finally speak up, not having the patience to deal with him. Rolling your eyes, you silently hope that this will cause Beomgyu to leave the two of you alone. The cafe was practically empty other than the worker behind the counter. This makes things even more awkward but Beomgyu doesn’t seem to have plans to leave any time soon. It’s almost as if he’s been cemented to the seat. Soobin looks at you confused, his eyebrows scrunching together cutely. You can't help but give him an apologetic smile. 

“A date… Wow, Soobin I didn’t know you have a thing for little y/n over here.” Beomgyu laughs. 

“Yeah, actually I do have a thing for her Beomgyu, and I would like to be on this date with her alone,” Soobin emphasizes. 

Beomgyu’s mischievous smile only grows wider with Soobin's words. You feel dizzy as this conversation seemingly takes a negative turn. 

“Oh my bad man, but I don’t think y/n feels the same way.” 

“Why do you say that?” Soobin’s eyebrows quirk up wanting to know what Beomgyu has to say.

 No No No No, you thought, you could already tell where this was going. Knowing Beomgyu he always has something up his sleeve. He always knew how to get under people's skin, especially yours. His way of manipulating the situation in his favour was something he was always good at. Why was he even doing all this now? You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t with the girl he was kissing yesterday. The fact that he could be doing anything else at this moment, but instead, he is ruining your date with Soobin. It's giving you whiplash, his actions never line up with one another. One day he was not speaking to you, not even anywhere to be seen on campus. Today he thinks he can ruin a perfectly fine date with someone who communicates interest in you. 

“Beomgyu. Please leave.” You’re practically begging. You turn to him, the desperation in your eyes could be seen from miles away but Beomgyu just chooses to ignore it. 

“Oh nothing important, just thought you should know y/n and I ended u-” Beomgyu was about to finish his sentence but you were quick to cut him off. You knew how that sentence was about to end but you didn’t want Soobin to judge you or see you in a negative light. Beomgyu is starting to get on your nerves now and your patience has always been on the thinner side. 

“Don't listen to him..... I’m so sorry Soob but I’m going to have to cut this date short, but I’ll text you ok? I think I need to have a conversation with Beomgyu over here.” You’re rambling now, but you need to get Beomgyu away from Soobin as soon as possible. Soobin doesn’t seem to protest, still confused. You leave your date dumbfounded as you drag Beomgyu out of the cafe, fully prepared to give him hell for his actions. 

Once you’re outside of the building and away from prying ears or eyes you begin your rant. 

“Choi Beomgyu what the fuck were you thinking following me just to ruin my date? You leave for two weeks with no explanation. No call or text, you don't even show up to class for fucks sake!” Yelling at the top of your lungs, finally able to let out all the anger that's been pent up inside you these past few weeks. 

“I’m sorry y/n but I can just sit here and watch you go on a date with him. He’s not right for you.”

“He's not right for me? Oh, that's rich coming from you, Beomgyu. If anything you’re not right for me. You fuck me, leave for 2 fucking weeks, and the next time I see you, you have your tongue shoved down someone else’s throat. But yeah, Soobin isn’t the right one for me. OK then.” You roll your eyes, sick of Beomgyus shit now, and not wanting to listen anymore. 

You walk away from him, too tired to carry on with the argument. You already feel the tears starting to well up but you try your best not to let them fall. Beomgyu wasn’t worth your tears. If you didn’t know any better you would fully believe that he only exists to make you miserable. The cold air causes you to hug yourself as you walk away. 

Out of nowhere, Beomgyu attempts to stop you, his large frame towering over you once again. 

“Beomgyu I have nothing else to say to you so please let me leave,” You speak, gritting through your teeth; and not wanting to make eye contact with him. Your eyes are looking down at your feet. 

“No,” Beomgyu states firmly. 

“No?” Now you’re pissed and you look at him like you’re about to commit a serious offence. 

“No y/n I’m not letting you go, so let me explain.” He’s pleading now, asking you to hear him out just this once. 

You roll your eyes, the cold is nipping at your skin now. You’re starting to shiver and mentally cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. You stay silent, not feeling up for a fight with him anymore. You gesture for him to go on and an expression of relief washes over his face. He takes a step closer to you with an expression ridden with guilt. You feel confused, this is probably the first time you’ve seen him look so sorrowful. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still angry with him for barging in on you and Soobin's peaceful date. If you were smart enough you would turn around and go back inside the cafe. But you weren’t smart enough, your feet are firmly planted on the sidewalk. Beomgyu has always had a knack for suppressing your common sense. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you y/n. I don’t regret anything that happened that night, I just-” He stops mid-sentence, groaning with frustration. His cheeks are an obvious shade of pink and he can’t help but put his face in his hands. 

Beomgyu was never one to be able to express his emotions; even just standing here in front of you has him jumbling up all his words. He can’t help but feel nervous when you’re looking up at him so innocently. Your eyes catching the light of the moon and your nose a soft hue of pink from the cold. You’re not even aware of the effect you have on him and it only intensified after he was able to get a taste of you. You mesmerize him in every way, your soft lips, the sounds of your moans while he's inside you. It’s too much for him. 

“Go on..” You urge him to continue, getting more impatient by the minute. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry I really am. I don't know what's gotten into me. I know I’ve been gone but I just couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night. I did everything to try and forget you. I even tried to hook up with someone else, but you’ve ruined me. You’ve ruined me for everyone else and I don’t want anyone else.” Beomgyus rambling, his eyes searching for a reaction but to him your expression is unreadable. 

His words have your heart racing and you have no idea how to feel. I’ve ruined him? You thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth right now, and you feel the annoyance starting to trickle back in. 

“Beomgyu, that still doesn’t give you the right to ignore me and try to ruin my date with Soobin.” 

“I know, I know y/n, I just couldn’t help myself, the way he looks at you pisses me off so much and he doesn’t deserve you. No one does, you’re too good for anyone. Too good for me. But I want you, I want you and I can’t stand the thought of someone like Soobin being the one to fuck you every night. It should be me, not him.” His words are vulgar. You’re in shock now but you can feel the heat go straight to your legs. He’s staring at you with so much intensity that your resolve is starting to crumble. It’s too damn cold to be standing out here arguing with him. So you do what no sane person would think to do at this moment. You lean in and push your lips against his. 

Beomgyu lets out a sound of surprise but ultimately reciprocates the kiss almost immediately. Soft lips move against his fluidly while you take the opportunity to comb your fingers through his hair. You loved his long hair and how soft it feels between your fingers. You can’t help but tug at it lightly, eliciting a groan to leave Beomgyu’s mouth. His hands are holding onto your waist so tight. The hold is suffocating in the most intoxicating way. His lips, the way he tastes against your tongue is addictive. This is what you’ve been missing these past few weeks and you want to make up for lost time.

“Beomgyu.” You’re  pulling away from him, not missing the disappointed look on his face. He looks so angelic for someone who made you go through fifty different emotions in the span of an hour. He's looking at you with bedroom eyes, his hands raking up and down your waist, not wanting to let you go. The movement of his hands are causing your shirt to lift up slightly, teasingly brushing against your bare skin. “Take me home.” 

᭝ ܰ ៳ׄ 𓄳 ̤  “when the lights go out, she’s all i ever think about” 

The tension during the car ride is thick; while the music murmurs softly as Beomgyu drives towards your apartment. He is holding your thigh, running his hands up and down trying to soothe you. But it only arouses you even more, you’re practically counting down the seconds till you reach your place. You felt nervous even though this isn’t your first time being intimate with him, but these two weeks apart felt like an eternity.

Finally after the longest 10 minute drive of your life, you reach your destination. The street lights are dim and your neighbourhood is practically deserted. The only disturbance was the sound of the music playing from the car’s speakers, as well as the loud thumping of your own heartbeat. The moon is still high in the evening sky illuminating all that's below it. You’re starting to get antsy, your thoughts running a million miles per hour. All you can think about is wanting to feel Beomgyu inside you again. 

Beomgyu gets out of the car walking over to the passenger side; he opens the door for you, taking your hand to guide you. This is probably the first time you’ve seen Beomgyu act so sweet. You mumble a thank you and smile softly to yourself. You could get used to this, you thought, hoping that this thing between you and Beomgyu is more than another hook-up. 

He takes a hold of your hand without saying another word, his fingers interlocking with your own. You squeeze his hand lightly signalling that you like it. He looks at you and with a meek smile, he looks shy, probably anticipating what's going to happen next. You both find your way to the elevator and your hands are still intertwined, he doesn’t want to let you go ever again. If the car ride here felt like forever, the elevator ride up was tenfold. You squirm while the elevator takes its time going up each floor. Your heart still feels like it's about to explode; until you hear that fateful ding indicating you’ve made it to your floor. 

Beomgyu is still holding your hand as you lead him to the front door of your apartment. You bend down slightly to put your code in, your stomach flips as you feel Beomgyu’s presence behind you. His breath fanning over the back of your neck; the proximity allows you to be engulfed in his scent. He smells sweet in the best way possible, it was intoxicating. You would want to be buried in his scent for as long as time allows. 

The door opens with a click, the two of you still holding hands; you pull him past the doorway and kiss him with more passion and vigour than the last time. His hands fly to your waist taking off your coat. Rapidly both your shoes and Beomgyu’s jacket come off in the process of making your way to your room. 

Your hand in his hair once again, tugging it just to hear the soft noises he makes as you do so. Suddenly, he has you against the door, his lips never leaving your skin. He's pressing hot kisses onto your neck making sure to leave marks where everyone could see. You let out soft sighs relishing in the feeling of him against you once again. Your hands are holding onto his biceps firmly, you know if you let go your legs would give out and you would fall to the floor.  While you grip onto him his hands start to leave your waist moving towards the button on your jeans. 

“I can’t get enough of you y/n.” Beomgyu whispers in your ear as he unbuttons your jeans. You can only keep kissing down his neck in response, nipping at his skin. Your pants fall to the floor and you're left in your lacy underwear. Beomgyu leaves your touch to take a good look at you, his eyes darkening with want. The prominent dick print on his jeans showing you how hard he is for you right now. The wetness between your legs is starting to become uncomfortable, now you're rubbing your thighs together to feel some sort of relief. 

You can’t help but look down to take a peek at the bulge in Beomgyu’s pants. Feeling excited, you turn towards the bed while taking his hand. You lead him to the bed, pushing on his chest lightly so he falls back onto the mattress. He takes off the rest of his clothes, patting his lap motioning for you to come and take a seat. You do as he says and sit on him, straddling him between your legs. He leans on his elbows enjoying the view. He sucks in a breath as he watches you take off your shirt, not wearing a bra underneath.

Beomgyu’s head is dizzy with thoughts of you, his imagination causing his dick to pulse within his boxers. Seemingly he’s had enough of your little show, ready to pound you till you cry. He brings you in for a kiss once again, loving the feeling of your hands on him. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he gets to touch you. He wants you to be his forever if it was possible. 

Your hand reaches down past his boxers and strokes his hard cock, rubbing the precum against his length to lubricate him. His grip on your waist tightens to the point that it will leave bruises, you don't care though. You love seeing how weak he gets when he is in your hands. He moans into the kiss, rutting his hips to stimulate the feeling even more. You keep kissing his face, his neck, anywhere you have access to. Your hand is still rubbing him up and down, he was so big that your hands looked tiny in comparison. 

Beomgyu’s had enough with your teasing, he flips you so your back is laying flat on the bed, ripping your underwear off with ease. His actions elicit a moan to escape your lips. His kisses start at your face and he slowly lowers himself down your body. Stopping at your breasts, massaging one while his mouth is wrapped around the other. You're moaning at the feeling, gasping as he grazes his teeth lightly against your sensitive nipples. You're writhing beneath him and he's barely even touched you. Your head is spinning and Beomgyu doesn’t have any plans to stop pleasuring you. 

Feeling satisfied with his work on your chest he finally situates himself between your legs. “Look at you, all wet already and I’ve barely even started.” He laughs into the heat of your glistening folds.   You're whining at this point, gripping on to his hair again trying to get him to finally touch you. He immediately shuts you up by giving you a quick slap on your core. You yelp and he's laughing again, looking up at you from between your thighs. Glaring  at him with your cheeks fully flushed. 

“Beomgyu I swear to god if you-oh.” Your sentence is cut short because Beomgyu lays a flat long strip against your cunt. He's licking up all your juices, groaning at the sweet taste of you. 

“Ah shit baby you taste so good” His groans are sending vibrations to you, leaving you moaning with your eyes squeezed shut with pleasure. He continues his ministrations licking you all up as if he's been starved for days. His nose is bumping into your clit and your hips are moving against his head trying to stimulate it even more. One of his hands is holding your hip down as the other is slithering its way to prod your entrance. You begin to see stars, the pleasure starting to become too much for you to handle. He inserts his long finger into your weeping pussy and the squelches of your wetness bounce off the walls alongside your moans. Your legs shake as they clench around Beomgyu’s head. Without a second thought he begins to suck your clit as his fingers are pumping in and out of you. 

“Don't stop please baby, I'm about to cum.” You say breathlessly and Beomgyu takes this as a sign to work harder. His fingers go in and out of you faster; his tongue giving your clit kitten licks all at the same time. You feel a rush come over your whole body, you're lightheaded and deciding to finally let go. Your moaning his name over and over, he continues to finger you diligently letting you ride out your high. 

“You’re so wet for me every single time, you only get like this for me don't you darling?” Beomgyu’s looking at you, all the while you're still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm. Beomgyu quickly shifts into a position where you and him are face to face, your legs now around his hips. You whine still feeling sensitive and he grabs you by the neck pushing your face closer to his. “Answer me properly y/n.” 

“Yes its only for y-you, please Beomgyu I want you to fuck me.” You’re begging him and he laughs at you. 

“Look at you. You’re crying ‘cause you want my cock that bad?” the grip tightens around your neck and you start to feel that familiar fuzzy feeling. 

“Yes please please please, I want it so bad. I want your cock inside me please.” Your gasping, trying hard to speak properly with his hand still clasped around your neck. 

“Good. No ones going to fuck you like I do. Not even Soobin.” He removes his hands from your neck letting one settle on your thigh, holding it up to wrap around his waist. Beomgyu’s actions are excruciatingly slow as he grabs his cock, lining it up with the entrance of your soaking cunt. A frustrated whine leaves your mouth and you're moving your hips to try and feel some sort of stimulation. Beomgyu slaps your thigh hard in response, leaving a red mark which rightfully shuts you up. His length is now rubbing up and down your folds, bumping into your clit ever so slightly. 

Grabbing onto his biceps, your head lolls back. There's a moan bubbling up your throat and it's cut off abruptly by the feeling of Beomgyu shoving his entire cock inside you. Your soft moan has now turned into a high pitched scream. You can’t seem to get enough of his cock. The way it fills your walls deliciously; his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust so easily. You stare at him, your mouth agape. “Faster please Gyu, feels so good.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t have to be told twice, his thrusts gaining speeds as he fucks you like he hasn’t felt your touch for a million years. The headboard is banging against the wall and the sound of skin slapping echoes around your room. He can’t help but admire the way you look underneath him. He thinks you look so pretty when you’re taking his cock so well. Happily thrusting into you, knowing that he’s here fucking you dumb instead of that loser Soobin. Beomgyu whole-heartedly believes that your pussy feels like it was made only for him, the tightness of your gummy walls sending him into overdrive. 

The moans that leave your mouth as he slides in and out of you is like music to his ears. He slows his thrusts, moving your legs to place them against his shoulders, fucking you in a new angle. The new position has you moaning louder than before. Thrusting faster now-Beomgyu is hitting that angle inside you that drives you crazy. The wet sounds coming from him fucking you increases in volume, the feeling leaving you drooling and a hot mess under his touch. 

“Gyu I’m gonna cum again please keep going.” breathlessly you can't help but beg for more. If it was possible you would ask Beomgyu to fuck you all night long. 

You’re heat is clenching around him tighter with each long thrust that he takes. He loves to stare down in between you two, seeing him slide in out of you so easily. The white ring of your cum covering the hilt of his cock. It drives him absolutely insane. You drive him absolutely insane, and he knows for sure that he can’t let you leave. 

“Your pussy is so fucking good baby, I wanna be inside you forever.” Beomgyu says, pushing your legs till they're folded against your chest. The position burns but the feeling of his cock inside you mixes with the pain. If you died tomorrow you would die a happy girl. You were practically in heaven with the way Beomgyu was fucking you right now. If it was possible you wouldn’t need anything else but his cock. “‘M gonna cum, lemme cum inside you please.” 

You nod, looking at him with desperate eyes, not being able to speak. The pleasure is overtaking your senses and Beomgyu’s thrusts turn erratic. You clench around his cock, cumming for the second time tonight, and your own orgasm sends Beomgyu into his own.  His hot seed fills you up till it starts to leak out of you. You love the feeling of his dick twitching inside you, and the way his cum makes you feel full. Beomgyu doesn’t remove himself from you, instead he kisses your forehead, his dick resting peacefully in your heat. 

“You’re such a good little slut aren't you. Always taking me so well.” He mumbles, your legs now around his waist, his face buried into the side of your neck. He gives you kisses while running his hands up and down your thighs soothing you.

“I only want you Gyu, no one else. Not Soobin. You.” You’re reassuring him, jealous Beomgyu filling your mind now. Although you find it hot when he’s jealous, it was also scary to see how much he's capable of. 

 “Good. I only want you too.” 

  Your hands run through his hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. He looks up at you, completely mesmerized by how beautiful you look after he fucked you so good. Beomgyu wants to be able to see you in this light more than just once, forever, if possible. The after sex glow and lightly flushed cheeks has his dick twitching inside you. Giggling, you clench around him to show that you’re up for another round. 

“Dont you dare do that again, or im fucking you till you cant take any more of me.” He warns, his voice is low and his eyes are filled with the same aforementioned lust. You laugh at him and repeat the action. This is going to be a long night, you think to yourself. Fed up with your teasing, Beomgyu flips you over onto your stomach. Harshly inserting himself in you again, giving your ass a sharp slap. 

end  ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

© wonustars

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #198

1. Hello! I'm looking for a fic. I remember it's explicit, top Crowley, bottom Aziraphale. This fic actually starts in the middle of the action with Crowley screwing Aziraphale very slowly over the kitchen counter, I believe. Meanwhile Crowley is calling Aziraphale out on how he (Crowley) has figured out that every time Aziraphale wants a rough screwing he tries to piss Crowley off on purpose. Crowley then goes on to mention a couple instances, such as a time Aziraphale dragged mud into the Bentley. Please halp. I don't even know how to begin filtering for this. Thank you so much. - @cinnabarmint

2. Hello! I'm looking for a one shot (I think) in which Archangel Aziraphale Falls and is dragged to Crowley to recover. He turns into a cat demon. They get together but for the life of me I can't remember was there smut. Shax, Muriel, Nina and Maggie have their roles to play. You're doing Lord's work on this blog 🙏 - @hillatar

3. hii!! hope ur having a great day and thank u so much for helping the fandom out, navigating this blog has been a blast :-) anyway, i'm currently looking for this fic that i cannot seem to find. its a wip that takes place in an au, and crowley has to pretend to be aziraphale's servant (who is a prince that got dragged from his village) and the emperor doesn't like aziraphale and wants him dead. in an attempt to get rid of aziraphale, crowley helps him escape (since he's actually a spy) and they find out aziraphale has magic when they reach crowley's kingdom. they also spend some time in aziraphale's old village and they navigate through aziraphale's magic towards the end of the wip. this is as specific i can get with all i remember oops.. thank u again for all ur help!! - anon

4. Hey there darlings! I would like to offer some tea and biscuits for all your hard work! ☕️ 🍪 Now, one of the first GO fics I read was so cute and smutty but I can’t find it any more. (Spoilers ahead!) Aziraphale peeks when they switched bodies and sees the edge of a tattoo. Back at the shop (assuming after s1 ended) they are on the couch and he gets Crowley to show him the whole tattoo, it’s a snake wrapped around a sword? I think and it has a date on it, 1798? and Aziraphale also has a tattoo I think and then they make passionate love. Can you find it for me? Idk maybe it was taken down 😭 - @procrastiel

5. Hello! First of all: Thank you for all your work! I found so many great stories thanks to your blog! But now, I lost one ;) It was a pretty dark one, but well written about Crowley trapping Aziraphale to protect him. I don't remember the details, but Crowley somehow snapped, made a mini dimension with a copy of the bookshop and locked Aziraphale there. The story was explicit if I recall it correctly. Oh, and Crowley killed several archangels to keep them away from Aziraphale. Unfortunately, that's all I remember. Maybe a mod or one of your followers recognises it. Thanks again for your library! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[deakyjoe]

Bewitch You In The Moonlight

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (fem)

Category: idk

Summary: You encounter a likeminded soul during a sleepless night.

Warnings: insomnia, awkward conversations, swearing/cursing, Copia is a nerd, reader is also a nerd, you’re both lonely and find comfort in each other basically

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: Oh, to have a Copia to spend sleepless nights with. This is currently planned to be a series (but works as a standalone for now!) and is just a big excuse for me to write Copia as the nerdy, dorky, sexy, old man that he is. It’s pretty self indulgent but I hope that others can enjoy it too. Title from… an obvious source ;)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The moonlight was irritating.

Despite being a lover of the night, and the luminous natural satellite that orbited the sky, you couldn't help but find yourself angry at the moon. The fucking moon.

You weren't naturally the easiest person to fall asleep anyway, often finding yourself tossing and turning for hours on end. But since being relocated to a new room, the problem had only gotten worse. The position of your new room meant that the moon shone directly through the window and illuminated your whole bedroom. Even when you closed the curtains, going so far as to tape the edges to the wall at one point, the light still managed to find a way to break through the cracks.

Staring at the silvery gleam reflecting off of the floor, you bit back the tears that were stinging in the back of your eyes and threatening to make your throat close up. You had an early class in the morning, Primo was starting lessons on botany. You were excited, finding something new to study. But you were tired. So tired. And not a wink of sleep was coming to you.

Throwing back the blankets, you swung yourself out of bed and marched over to your bookshelf. Maybe a chapter or two would help you sleep. Scanning the titles, you found that none of them were grabbing you and you held back a scream of frustration. What were you supposed to do?

Pacing around your room for a moment, you thought about what you could do. A late night stroll was the first thing to come to mind. And perhaps to the library. To pick up a new, more attention grabbing book. Maybe one on botany to get a head start on Primo's classes. Yes, that was exactly what you were going to do.

Slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm, you reached for your phone. To find that it was dead. Why hadn't you charged it before getting into bed? You sighed and considered what else could be your light source to guide your path. Your eyes drifted towards a candle that someone had gifted you upon your arrival at the abbey. It was meant to be a joke about the building and its grounds looking old and gothic so outsiders assumed it had no electricity. They were very wrong. But the candle was charming. It sat in a brass holder with a handle. Just like something straight out of a Dickens novel.

You sighed before plucking it from its resting place, never having been lit, and rummaged through a drawer to find some matches. Once you'd acquired those, you ignited the candle and tiptoed to your door. You didn't know exactly why you were being quiet. It wasn't against any rules to be out of bed at this time but you also didn't want to wake anyone else in the same dormitory wing as you. You did know the grievances of losing sleep after all.

You padded along the corridor, glad it was a fairly warm night as you hadn't thought to bring an extra layer to cover the garments you'd chosen to sleep in, with your arm extended out in front of you so the candle could light the way. You'd been right in assuming that all lights in the abbey would be off. It was approaching almost two in the morning.

You weaved through the hallways, knowing the blueprints of the place like the back of your hand, and trotted up and down flights of stairs. Another annoying feature of your new room was that it was farther away from the library than the previous one. You were starting to wonder whether you could put a request in to be moved back.

You started humming a low tune to yourself, something you'd heard on the radio a few days prior, to keep yourself company on the long walk. You weren't scared of the empty abbey exactly, knowing there were hundreds of people sound asleep just through all the sets of doors you'd passed, but you couldn't deny that the darkness and silence was a little spooky.

That spookiness only upped itself when you rounded a corner and were met with a bellowing shriek. You jumped back from the noise, or technically the person it emanated from.

"Sathanas!" The figure gasped, followed by a string of mumbled Italian.

You raised your candle slowly to illuminate their face, surprised by who you had come in contact with. "Cardinal?"

"Sì, sì." He mumbled, not looking at you as he pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself down. He was wearing a matching set of pyjamas, buttons up the middle, a deep red shade with a pattern of grey and brown... were those rats? Upon slightly closer inspection you found that they were indeed rats.

"I like your..." You gestured vaguely at your own pyjamas before pointing at his.

The Cardinal looked surprised as he glanced down at his attire. "Oh, my jammies? Thank you."

"You like rats?" You asked, hoping to get him to relax a little as his breathing was still laboured.

"I love rats!" He exclaimed, immediately shushing himself. "Eh, yes, I like rats."

You smiled at him. "What about rats do you love?"

"Lots of things. They are small. They like cheese. They squeak when they are happy. Very nice little creatures, hehe." He chuckled at his own description, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

You nodded at him, liking the simplicity of his answer. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Cardinal."

"Oh no, it is fine." He shook his head at the memory of the way he'd screamed at you. "Not your fault. This place gives me the heebie jeebies at night."

"Yeah, it is a little creepy." You added on, not voicing your question of why on earth he was a Satanic Cardinal if he couldn't even handle the dark... you figured everybody had layers. That's when you noticed he wasn't carrying any sort of light source. "Cardinal, were you walking around in complete darkness?"

"Uh, no." He sighed. "I thought the moonlight would guide me further. But then I got here. And have been stuck for ten minutes. Walking in circles, I think."

"Oh." You coughed to hide a laugh. "Well, where were you headed? I can get you there if you want."

He looked briefly at your candle, recognising it as the initiation gift of the siblings. "The library."

"Me too." You sent him an easy smile, relieved that you wouldn't have to divert your journey at all.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the wind outside, as you questioned whether it was okay for you to ask him why he was still awake.

Luckily, he answered that query for you. "So, why are you going to the library so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same." You retorted with a smirk. "Bit of an insomniac."

"Ah, I see." He nodded in understanding. "Me too sometimes."

"Is that why you're awake tonight?" You asked.

"Sì. Sleep just would not come to me." He paused and inhaled deeply. "Forgive me, sorella, but you are going to have to remind me of your name."

You smiled and introduced yourself, not the least bit surprised nor offended he couldn't remember your name. You'd only crossed paths on a few occasions and you were sure the Cardinal met a lot of people every day.

"Ah, I think I remember you from that course on rituals I conducted last year. Correct?"

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I took that course."

He hummed. "Mm, you were very eager to learn."

You averted your eyes away from him, embarrassed. "I have a thirst for knowledge, you could say."

"That is a good thing, no?" He wondered and you shrugged. "What other classes have you taken?"

"A few." You replied, not entirely untrue but maybe a little understated since you would take any class you could get your hands on. "I'm starting the botany one tomorrow. Well, today I guess."

"With Primo?" He asked and you nodded. "It will be fascinating, I'm sure."

"I hope so. Even if it's not then he'll be a good teacher. He loves plants." You mumbled, thoughts straying to the gardens that were so meticulously looked after by the retired Papa. "Hey, you should teach a class on rats."

Copia chuckled. "I do not think there would be much interest in that, sorella."

"Maybe a class on small mammal species then?" You offered. "I'm sure there are plenty of amateur zoologists in this place."

He smiled at you. "Would you attend?"

"Only if you promise to do a section on moles." You nodded. "I love those little fuckers."

The Cardinal snorted out a laugh. "Okay, I will take it up with the clergy."

"I look forward to it."

The two of you quickly approached the doors to the library where Copia produced a key from a seemingly invisible pocket to unlock them.

"I didn't even consider it being locked." You whispered, realising that bumping into him had definitely been beneficial.

Copia huffed. "Sì. As much as we encourage sinning, we have some rare editions in here that we do not need siblings to get their hands on in the midst of partying."

"Makes sense." You stepped closer to him to give him more light from the candle to which he thanked you. It was then that you noticed that he was wearing the leather gloves that always adorned his hands during the daytime. Strange that he would also wear them at night. But you weren't going to judge him for it, or even comment on it. "Cardinal-"

"Copia, per favore." He corrected, not taking his eyes off where he was struggling to get the library doors unlocked.

"Copia-" You rolled the name around on your tongue, liking the way it tasted. "-is it okay for me to be in the library at this hour?"

"Of course, sorella-"

You cut him off with your own name to which he glanced at you with a smile.

"I give you full permission. It is the least I can do since you rescued me from the darkness, eh?"

"I suppose." You muttered. "I just don't want you to get in trouble for letting a sister wreak havoc on the library in the middle of the night."

He stood up, as if he were giving up on unlocking the door, and gave you a mirthful look. "What exactly are you planning on doing with these books?"

You relented with a slump of your shoulders. "Read them."

He shrugged. "See? No havoc. Just reading."

"Would you like me to try?" You offered out your hand, palm up, to take the key from him.

"Ah! Sì, sì!" He sounded grateful that he didn't even have to ask you, handing the key over in exchange for the candle.

You shuffled past him and bent down, sliding the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. "There we go."

"Thank you. Sometimes my gloves make it difficult." He sighed as you pushed the door open.

You smiled, curious as to what the deal with the gloves was. Maybe he had an issue with dirt. You decided to just be lighthearted about it. "The price of fashion. Beauty is pain they say."

He looked momentarily surprised by that statement, a pool of red rushing to his cheeks. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. "Uh, yes. They do say."

You bit back a grin at the prospect of making him flustered, he really was a sweet man, and tilted your head in the direction of the library. "Lead the way, Cardinal."

"Copia." He groaned but walked into the library first anyway, candle held out in front of him. "What book were you looking for, sorella?"

You followed him, noting that he'd gone back to calling you sister in response and closed the door behind the two of you. "Initially I was going to read up on some botany. But now I've got the urge to read about rodents."

He perked up and turned quickly to face you again, candle tilting dangerously in the holder at his rapid movement. "I can recommend some books on rodents."

You reached out to steady the candle before it dripped molten wax all over the floor, fingertips brushing against leather as you pulled away. "That sounds lovely, Copia."

He grinned at you and turned away again, walking more eagerly towards the stacks. You rushed to keep up as he started murmuring something about which book would be best for beginners, colliding with his back as he suddenly stopped.

"Sorry." You grunted, rubbing your forehead as you stumbled backwards.

The candle was abandoned on an empty shelf, safely out of the way of any books, and his gloved hands were hovering over you before you even had the chance to blink.

"No, I am sorry. I shouldn't have just stopped. I am an idiot, sì? Please forgive me. Are you okay?" He rambled, eyes wide with panic.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You laughed. "You were just wrapped up in the moment thinking about rats. I get it."

Copia's face dropped in embarrassment. "It is a problem."

"No, I think it's nice that you're so passionate. I get like that when I have something new to learn about." You sent him a reassuring smile. "Besides, you were thinking about books to recommend to me. If anything, it's my fault."

He was stood so close, barely a couple of inches away, that it gave you an opportunity to take him in. Like, really take him in. You'd never been in such close contact before. He sat at the front during mass, you had to sit with the rest of the siblings further back. Any time he conducted anything he would be stood at the head of the room, obviously, and you'd be one of the audience. It felt strange being so near to him.

You knew his eyes were mismatched, it was the gossip of the century when he'd first come to the abbey since nobody had failed to realise how it was similar to the mismatching eyes of the Emeritus line, but you'd never noticed that the darker eye was a gorgeous shade of green before. He also had smile lines, both around his mouth and crinkling the edges of his beautiful eyes. The greys in his hair, which you had always taken notice of, now only stood out more in the flickering candlelight. And where his mouth was hanging slightly open in concern you could see that his bottom row of teeth were crooked.

Realising that you were staring at his mouth, you looked away from him, to somewhere over his shoulder, before you said something you'd regret.

"Don't blame yourself." He said lowly, grabbing the candle off the shelf again as he tilted his head backwards. "Come. The good books on rodents are this way."

You nodded silently and just started following him again. His pace was slower this time, careful not to rush or cause another crash with you. After another minute or so of walking, he rounded a corner and stopped.

"I had the librarian rearrange the stacks so the books about rats were put here instead." He explained as you took in the little nook you'd never seen before.

It was hidden towards the back of the library, dark, with a single small window to provide some evidence of outside life. There sat a set of comfortable looking chairs and a coffee table. It was cosy looking. However, there was no discernible light source. No lamp, no overhead light, nothing with electricity.

"It's nice." You croaked, imagining Copia hidden away here for hours on end. Nothing to keep him company apart from a good book. "I can see why you had the librarian rearrange."

He sent you a small smile before walking over to a couple of sconces on the wall. You squinted and noticed that they held candles. The tug in your chest was unmistakable. You knew Copia didn't have many, if any, friends so the idea that he'd brought you here was flattering.

The hem of his pyjama shirt lifted as he lit the first candle, exposing a stretch of his abdomen. You looked away out of respect. But the glimpse of soft tummy and dark hair had your eyes straying back towards him again. Once you'd locked on to his happy trail, hair trailing both below his waistline and up into what you assumed to blossom into a good amount of chest hair, you couldn't pull away again.

You felt butterflies in your lower stomach, your mouth almost salivating at the sight. It was then you decided to do some research on insomnia to see if the lack of sleep could cause delirium that made your libido skyrocket. Because suddenly wanting to lick your Cardinal's stomach probably wasn't normal behaviour. Although sinning was encouraged...

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Copia giving a small cheer as he managed to light one of the candles. Watching with a new sense of fondness for the man as he attempted to the light the second candle, you decided that you were adamant on becoming his friend. The both of you could probably use a friend. You were making assumptions about him but you could recognise loneliness from a mile away. He was slightly too keen to share his favourite books with you, a little too cautious when it came to potentially doing something wrong, a tad happier than the average person would be when exchanging first names.

Once the other candle was lit, he grinned at you so brightly that the corners of his eyes crinkled. You returned the grin.

"Please take a seat. I will find you a book." He waved his hands at the two armchairs before rushing over to the shelves.

You watched him scanning the spines of the books, choosing to sit on the less worn of the two chairs as you figured that the more tattered one was his favourite. You struggled to avert your eyes when he bent over and you were met with the perfect view of his ass, forcing yourself to be respectful and not indulge in your newfound attraction to him. Just friends, you reminded yourself. You were going to be just friends.

Soon enough he was letting out a little noise of delight and practically skipping back over to you where he collapsed into the spare armchair and handed you the book.

"I believe this one has a chapter on rats and a chapter on moles. As you love those little fuckers so much." He repeated your words from earlier back to you with a proud tone in his voice.

"Thank you." You said sincerely, flipping the book open to the contents page. "I trust your recommendations. I read those books you told us about at the end of the ritual course last year."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Mhm, although I think you were the only person who had ever borrowed them before me." You shrugged. "They were good, very informative."

He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You weren't kidding about your thirst for knowledge, hehe."

You glanced up at him, fingers flicking through the pages of the book on your lap. "It's sort of my motivation in life. Learning as much as possible."

His brows pinched together momentarily. "That is a nice motivation to have."

You smiled, being able to tell that there was more he wanted to say. "But?"

He shook his head with a huff. "How could you tell there was a but?"

"I just know these things."

He huffed again. "But... what of other things?"

You frowned. "Such as? Satan? I am a dedicated sibling of sin, y’know?"

"No, no. I know that, I didn't mean to imply that-" He cut himself off with a sigh. "What about friends?"

Your mouth turned downwards, eyes returning to the book. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Ouch. But I deserved that." He winced. "My apologies. I only wish for all siblings to be happy here."

"I am happy here." You snapped, regretting your tone almost immediately. There was a brief moment of silence where you wished you could take it back.

"Take it from me, I know how lonely a life here can be. Surrounded by so many people yet not really having anyone." He confessed, face falling into a vague sort of sadness.

You didn't know why he was opening up to you. And it wasn't anything you hadn't already deduced about him. But you could see so much of yourself in him that you couldn't understand why you were lashing out when you had been the one telling yourself you wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

"We could be friends." You offered.

He shook his head, taking the offer the wrong way. "Do not say that just because you feel pity for this old Cardinal."

"Aren't you younger than the average upper clergyman?"

"Well, yes. But..." He trailed off. "Still old."

"And I would like to be friends with you."

Copia stared at you for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out if you were being sincere. When you didn't break the eye contact, he realised you were. "Okay..."

You rolled your eyes. "You sound so enthusiastic about the idea."

"Sorry. I mean... okey dokey!" He sent you a double thumbs up and the dorkiest smile you'd ever seen. You couldn't hold back the giggle that rumbled out of your chest at the sight. Copia held the pose for a moment, the smile spreading at your reaction, before he stood from his chair again. "I will get a book of my own and then we can read together. Like friends do, sì?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "Okey dokey."

He chuckled at your repetition of his words before shuffling off with a low groan, muttering something about the pain in his knees, and squatting in front of the stacks. For a man who claimed to be old and had aching joints, he seemed to have no trouble getting down so low. You watched him over the top of your book as he did a little side step crab walk thing to see what titles he hadn't read yet, eyes darting back towards the page when he grabbed a volume and returned to sit next to you.

"What did you choose?"

"A Beginner's Guide to Small Mammals." He read out the cover to you. "Research for that class you're getting me to teach."

You nodded slowly. "Very wise choice."

The two of you descended into peaceful, comfortable silence, the turning of pages breaking the quiet every so often. Copia zoomed through the book he'd chosen, clearly knowing a lot of it already, but you took your time, making sure to take in every single word carefully. You found yourself appreciating rats a little more after you'd finished that chapter and loving moles more than you already did by the time you were halfway through their chapter.

You glanced up to take a look at your reading companion every couple pages or so, enjoying the crease that would appear between his brows every time he came across something he found interesting. A couple of times the two of you made accidental eye contact when you'd go to look at him to find him already looking at you, the two of you smiling awkwardly before looking away again. That, thankfully, didn't ruin the atmosphere however.

Neither of you realised how much time had passed until sunlight had replaced the moonlight shining through the small window despite Copia having almost finished the book he'd chosen and you getting halfway through yours after returning to the beginning once you'd read the two chapters he'd told you about.

"It must be about five in the morning." You commented, that opinion based on the way the rays of sun were positioned. You'd seen a lot of sunrises during your sleepless nights.

"Oh." Copia replied, lowering his book to the coffee table. "What time is Primo's class?"

"Eight." You replied with a sigh, resting your head against the back of your chair and closing your eyes. Despite hours of reading, you still didn't feel like you were close to being able to sleep.

"There is still time for a couple hours of rest."

You shook your head as you opened your eyes again. "I still won't be able to. It's fine. I can survive on no sleep for a day or two."

His eyes widened at the prospect of not sleeping for two nights in a row. "That does not sound healthy."

You laughed. "Probably not. But I get by."

"I'm sorry if I made it worse by keeping you here, I didn't mean-"

You cut him off. "No, not at all. Um, I usually spend sleepless nights pacing around my room and making myself stressed. So this has been a nice change. Thank you for allowing me to read with you. And letting me into the library."

His face softened. "Of course. It's what friends do."

Warmth bloomed in your chest and all you could do was send him a smile that you hoped conveyed how grateful you were. After that the two of you quietly replaced the books you had been reading before extinguishing the sconces and leaving the library. With the sunlight now illuminating the abbey there was no need for your candle anymore so you blew that out as well and held it lower down in front of you, clasped tightly between both of your hands. You handed it to Copia briefly as you locked the library doors for him.

You walked silently for a while, wondering what to say to him now that the tranquil feeling of the library had been left behind. What if books were the key to your conversations with him?

Copia broke the silence. "Did you like the book?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for recommending it." You said, sincerely, and he only shrugged. "How was yours?"

"I have read better." He confessed. "But not terrible."

It went quiet again and the two of you said nothing until you reached the hallway you'd bumped into him in only a few hours ago.

"I, uh, I go this way now." He pointed down a different entryway than the one you needed to go down.

"Oh, okay." You frowned to yourself before looking at him again. "I had a nice night, Copia. Really. Thank you."

"I should thank you. For keeping this old man company." The leather of his gloves creaked as his fists clenched at his sides.

"It's what friends do." You replied before glancing over your shoulder towards a window, the sun was rising even higher. "I should go."

"Sì, sì." He agreed, glancing down at his slipper-clad feet. "I hope you enjoy Primo's class."

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy... being a Cardinal." Your face scrunched at your own words, how hadn't you asked what he was doing the next morning?

He just laughed. "Grazie."

"See you around then." You didn't want to say goodnight, since it wasn't night, and you didn't want to say good morning, as that seemed idiotic. But see you around then? You needed to work on your social skills if this whole friend thing was going to work out.

Copia nodded. "See you around."

And then the two of you went your separate ways. With you wondering whether you should even bother trying to get a nap in before getting ready for botany with Primo, and Copia secretly watching you walk away over his shoulder wondering when his luck had started to change.

A/N: This has been sitting complete in my drafts for a hot minute because I told myself I’d write at least another 2 chapters of it before posting but then I realised it works perfectly fine by itself so I just decided to post it. Hope you enjoyed!

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P14

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Family issues, Mental abuse, Body issues/shaming, mentions of eating disorders, reconstructive surgery, Blood, domestic abuse and Violence.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part …. Next Part >

The Victoria was oddly quiet mainly because most of the crew where either on the deck doing cleaning work and look out duty or off the ship heading into the shopping area to get the supply's they ordered days ago, Kid of course is mad about it wanting to head into those shops and demand the stuff for free or just take the stuff after such a long wait but Killer and Wire managed to calm him down a little and shove him into his workshop which is where he's currently working on odd things. His leg bounces hating having to wait a whole day to see you and not getting to beat the shit out of anyone, again it would be much easier to destroy this place and take you with them, but he knows you well enough to know that if he does that and you get your memories back you would be overly angry with him and become less trusting of him. Your no stranger to violence and killing but Kidnapping and being forced to do something against your will is something you never tolerated, he laughs at the memory of you calling yourself a hypocrite since you didn't mind doing stuff like that to your enemies. A knock on the door jolts the captain out of his thoughts, swiveling around in his chair he flicks his hand using his devil fruit to unlock the door and open it seeing Killer, Wire and Heat all at the door "What?" Kid growls as the three enter the room, Wire closes and locks the door behind him which makes the red head raise a brow "Heat has found some info for us" Killer stands walking to stand next to his captain before turning to look over at a very tired looking Heat, the bags under his eyes are a lot darker and his eyes are blood shot.

Crossing his arms over his chest Kid sighs hoping they have something good they can use and not just some useless info "Go on then, get on with it" The captain snaps, Heat jumps slightly being brought back to the real world from his slightly sleepy state, cleaning his throat the stitched man runs a hand over his tatty hair knowing he needs a good show but what he found was more than he thought and the deeper he dug the harder it was to pull away. "There's a lot to go threw, i left Mohawk and Narbe, at the library in town, they managed to get in contact with a few people who used to work for the family, its surprising how willing they are say what goes on behind closed doors. Most of the books there though are strange to say the least, all are based on the history of entertainment and old newspapers that only show big achievements and positive views" Kid groans throwing his head back in annoyance not wanting to know how they got the information "Hurry up Heat, i'm loosing patients here" With a gulp Heat nods ruffling his hair a little to get his head in gear, its common for him to ramble when tired so Wire places a hand on his friends shoulder patting it a few times in reassurance and motivation to go on. "R-right, sorry. So Y/n's farther is the 7th owner of most of the companies he owns, all of which was passed down to him from his father and his father before him and so on, but he is the first to make a deal with the world government to supply not only medical equipment but also weapons, the guns the marines use are made by his company but before that they were sold to mulish groups, how he got away with it i honestly don't know. There's only one company he owns that doesn't involve the world government or the marines but there's little to nothing on that one, i only know that its based in the north blue."

Killer nods at the information, its surprising how much your farther caters to the world government, and yet he hasn't called in the marines yet, it makes the masked man anxious. "How many companies in total does he own?" the blonde asks wanting to know how deeply involved your farther is, getting rid of him might work in their favor if you agree to it at the end of all of this. "Four in total, the third one that provides to the world government has something to do with clothes. He also has shares in other companies and places but most of them are medical, he actually owns half the hospital here." Kids taken aback by this new information but it does make sense now why they brought you all the way here and why the staff, other than the nurse, always seem to take your families side. Wire raises an eyebrow removing his hand from the stitched man's shoulder to cross his arms over his chest "I thought they had their medical license revoked, they can't own a hospital without one" The tall man comments makes Killer hum in though his mind running to try and figure out what is going on, its clear they need you for something otherwise they wouldn't be going this far, do they need you in order to get that licence back? if so this seems way to drastic for something so small. Heat shakes his head with a sigh "That is kinda true, they got their license to make medication revoked, i couldn't find much on it but there was this drug they made that ended up killing a lot of marines that were using it, so the government took their license away. They can still make medical equipment, bandages and stuff like that though"

With a loud groan Kid leans back not seeing much point in all this information, so what if your father owns all that stuff and the place your staying in, they still can't tell him what to do or stop him from doing what he wants, your not going to be their hostage, he'll make dam sure of that "Is there anything else?" The captain asks looking back at Heat who quickly looks away while rubbing his arm, the energy in the room shifts to one of nervousness and slight sickness, Wire tilts his head at his friend a pit forming in his stomach knowing its bad if Heat is reluctant to talk about it "Shit.. this about Y/n or the family?" The tall man asks hoping its nothing bad to do with you but deep down he knows it has everything to do with you, Killer stops his pondering to look at the stitched man, his anxiety rising making him feel physically sick, Kid grits his teeth both his hands gripping onto the arms of his chair threatening to crack it under his grip. "Heat… Get on with it" Kid growls in a low tone, one he rarely uses, his anger spikes the longer Heat takes to talk but when he does the three of them stop in their tracks of high emotion "Y/n… she- she used to do beauty contest and pageants from a young age-" Before he can finish Kid bursts out laughing, the anger he once held gone at how stupid it sounded, Killer next to him lets out a long sigh relaxing his shoulders and moving to lean against Kid's workbench trying to calm his beating heart down. Wire slaps Heat on the back giving him a shit eating grin while letting out a small huff of a laugh "Are you fucking kidding me man, thats it?" The tall man rolls his eyes.

Kid leans forward slapping his knee while trying to calm his laughter down "Oh! t-thats f-funny… Imagine our N/N in a fucking puffy dress… she would rather be burned alive then do that shit" Kid laughs hitting Killer on the arm lightly managing to get a laugh out of his partner but the masked man quickly stops himself as Heat growls taking a step closer to the two with bright red cheeks "No really, she's won a bunch, and… She looks good in all of them but.." Heat yells only to stop himself and look down the redness in his cheeks fading away as anger starts to overcome him, Kid raises an eyebrow at his friend wondering why there would be a 'But' in that sentence while Killer looks the stitched man over frowning under his mask. A pit forms in Heat's stomach thinking his captain and maybe even Killer will kill him for thinking your hot but it has nothing to do with that. "I'm not hitting on your girl or anything Captain, its just, I'm concerned some of them are… provocative for a young girl.. i mean the newest ones i could find was when she was 16" Heat tries to explain backing up a bit in hopes his Captain won't kill him, Killer's shoulders tense his hands turning to fists at his side, anger flows through him, not at Heat's commenting on your body, but he can see what his friend is starting to get at. "I don't think she wanted to do it, she always has this fake smile in the photos and her mother is the center of any article about her wins. All she talks about though is weight loss, beauty is pain and shit like, heck there's a part in one new's paper where she openly praises eating disorders" anger boils inside the stitched man making his body start to warm up and smoke start to leave his mouth.

Wire takes a step back not wanting to get to close to the now fire angry man his gaze flicking to the captain secretly asking if he should step in but Kid's eyes are angrily locked onto Heat who continues to rant "I mean if thats what she says when Y/n is winning then what the fuck is she saying when Y/n's losing? I found out from one of maids that used to work there that Y/n had to have reconstructive surgery on both her ears after her mother deiced to piece them with a hot needle and an ice cube, she got other pageant moms to hold her down and then forced her on stage after to prance around in a pretty dress and for what? Winning a gift card… yea thats the fucking prize, a 50 berri gift card and a plastic crown. How stupid is that? The shit that lady made Y/n go threw is ridiculous, i mean calorie control books, daily weighing, restricting or even locking away food if she weighed even a little over, pulling her out of school to be pretty and proper like some little lap dog and almost beating her because she cut her hair without permission. That Bitch is crazy and as for her farther he's just as bad he-" Heat only stops his rant when Wire grabs him pulling the stitched man into a hug, one arm around his waist and the other holding his head to the tall man's chest, thick smoke coats the air as Heat pants making the room stuffy but none of the men move to open the door. Kid's hands shake as they grip together, his body now leaning forwards and his elbows on his knee's letting his mind go run through all the strange stuff you used to do and say.

It all made sense now, why you never got your ears pierced, why you always insisted on working out even when tired or in pain, why you never wanted to wear makeup or dresses and why you hated people commenting on your body, it makes him sick to think he used to tease you over this stuff, liking getting a little rise out of you but now he just feels like a dick. Killer grabs the edge of the workbench making it squeak under the amount of strength he's using, he has his own personal image issues and you've been nothing but sportive thought it, always knowing what to say and how to comfort him, he's done the same for you but hearing this just makes him so mad. You never minded talking about food or helping out with food but you never wanted to know anything about Calorie's or fat content, its clear now why, and he's just thankful that you don't have an eating disorder now, the past might have been different, so he'll make a mental note to talk to you about it tomorrow, he needs to know how deep this goes, he doesn't want you to end up like him, hiding behind a mask and unable to look at himself in the mirror with feeling a sickness growing inside. Before he wouldn't lay a hand on your mother only for your sake but after hearing this he wants nothing more than to wrap his hand around her throat and make her bag you for forgiveness before ending her life weather you like it or not.

With the room oddly silent it gives everyone time to go through their own thoughts and feelings on the matter but Heat knows there's more, he's only talked about your mother, he hasn't even gotten onto your farther yet and there's still more stuff to go through. The beauty contests seemed to be the main problem to everyone who used to work for the family, but he knows you well enough to know that its just the tip of the iceberg, it runs deeper, and he's not sure if he wants to find out how deep. "No wonder she hates being called pretty and beautiful, imagine a bunch of old sweaty judges, family and so called friends commenting on your body for years, judging you on your looks and nothing else" Heat sighs letting the flames in his throat die down and the smoke in his mouth starting to thin out, patting his friends back Wire lets go to unlock the door and open it, letting the smoke flow out of the room, stepping out he looks both ways down the long hallway seeing a cabin boy mopping the floor with wide eyes. "There's no fire, head up top and tell everyone to stay away until further notice" Wire blankly states earning a nod from the boy who quickly grabs his bucket and mop before rushing down the hall and up to the deck, now the area is clear the tall man turns back to his friends letting out a sigh, he tried not to get too angry about it all but even he has his limits. Wire is extremely good at hiding how he's really feeling, even better than Killer which is saying something but even know he's finding it difficult to keep his straight face.

Kids leg bounces as a growl leaves his lips and his amber eyes travel from the floor to the stitched man now leaning against the wall "Her Farther… what did he do?" The captain pushes those words through gritted teeth wanting to know everything before he storms off and releases some steam, with a sigh that releases a little more smoke Heat turns his head to look at the door annoyed at himself for letting the smoke get this bad "Mohawk managed to dig up a few things but there isn't a lot, he's still an ass but at least it sounds like he didn't physically hurt N/n" Killer rolls his eyes not feeling any better about this even though he knew his friend was trying not to make himself and everyone else more angry "Mohawk found that the company in the north blue was having some money issues for almost a year, at the same time Y/n stops doing any kind of contests or pageants, once the issues was resolved though Y/n started doing them again. I think he got Y/n to do all that work just to cast her aside after she was no longer useful, what a prick." Heat slumps against the wall now looking up at the ceiling in order to try and control the fire starting to burn in his throat again, Wire sighs walking over and patting the stitched man on the shoulder, he know something like that would hit you hard. They all see the way your eyes light up when ever you get praised for your work, your also very dedicated making sure everything is in order and perfect. "She's does has siblings but only the youngest who's the first boy in the family is the air to the companies, i couldn't find much on him other than he's still very young" Heat concludes glad he got all of it out, but he wonders if this information was even useful, there is a chance they could remind you of all the shit your family did and that will make you come back but at the same time you remember all of it and still somehow chose to keep them around.

Killers hand grips the desk hard enough for it to crack a chunk off, he flinches slightly bringing his hand up to see the chunk of wood and a bit of metal still gripped tightly in his hand, the anger inside of him is still there, and he knows he needs to calm down before he breaks more of the ship. Kid growls while leaning back in his chair, his hands shaking with anger and the need to lash out, his mind races with things he wants to do and say to your parents making his mind block out the destitution between Wire and Heat "So what about the marines? Why ain't they here if their so buddy buddy?" The tall mans asks feeling like something is off about all this but Heat just shrugs "I don't know, he seems to be friends with most of the lower level marines but other than that i can't find anything too useful." Without a word Kid quickly stands his hands grabbing the arms of his chair and flinging it back into the wall before storming out of the room, his anger getting the better of him, Killer quickly follows with no intention to stop his partner while Wire and Heat rush out unsure of what their captains plan is. Slamming the door to the deck open the crew who are there jump in surprise most moving out of the raging captains way, those who didn't are shoved aside with a gruff huff or a warning growl, the captains eyes are fixed on your parents ship currently five rows over, the guards in duty stand tall one on either side of the ramp while servants run around none of them noticing the heavy aura that starts to emanate from Kid, he knows exactly what he wants to do, destroy their ship and make your parents pay.

He can't hold back any longer with anger reaching an almost overwhelming level, storming down the dock his eyes are fixed on the almost royal looking ship as his boots stomp heavily across the wood making it crack in places and splinter in others, it isn't long before his actions draw an audience of his crew, the men and women of the ship running to the railing of their ship in order to see what's going on. Killer along with Heat and Wire make their way up too knowing know what is going to happen, Heat lets a large smile form on his face as he takes a step towards the ramp leading down onto the dock wanting to join in the distraction only to be grabbed roughly by Wire "Shit, Captain wait" The tall man yells knowing its reached his captains ears since he earns a middle finger in response "Stay here" Wire growls down at the stitched man who growls back while crossing his arms over his chest, he wants to join his captain but Wire can be very scary when he gets mad so opts to do as he's told. Running off the ship the tall man quickly turns back expecting Killer to be right behind him only to see empty space, looking back onto the ship the masked man hasn't moves from his spot just watching his captain angrily make his way to the last dock. He should stop Kid, if he does the captain will listen, they might fight about it later but, no, after everything he's heard he won't stop his partner, they deserve what ever comes to them, you might hate them for it but at this point he doesn't care. A part of him wants to order Wire back to the ship but with his anger seething inside he can't get anything through his gritted teeth and clenched jaw.

With a groan of frustration Wire runs off his longs legs making it easy for him to catch up to Kid just as the captain starts gathering metal around his arm hoping to sink the ship which is now just down the long dock "Captain… Kid stop" Wire rushes in front of the red head trying to stop the man from doing anything too bad, he wants these people to pay for what they've done but there's too many things to consider, one, the marines might get involved which means another big fight and them unable to stay here for too long, two, they have no idea how your going to react when finding out, you might not come back with them which leads to them just taking you by forth which won't go down well and three, the captains rage won't just stop at the ship, it'll carry on until he's satisfied which means the whole island will be burning including the hospital your in. "I know your angry, and they deserve what ever comes to them but not now" Wire still tries to convince his captain while starting to step back seeing the red head not slowing down or stopping, he knows if he stays in the way he'll get shoved aside or worse thrown. "Get the fuck out of my way, i'm gonna tare them apart, rip them limb from bloody limb, make them beg for forgiveness then deny them the sweet relief of death until I'm satisfied" Kid growls with a sickening smirk, one that just oozes blood-lust almost making his mouth water, the captains metal arm becomes huge casting a shadow over your parents ship which is now only a few steps away.

The guards on the deck rush over with guns and swords but their weapons are pulled out of their hand adding to the still growing fist, those in the ship either cower in fear, frozen unable to move or run around calling for people to get off the ship and onto the deck "Eustass Kid, what the meaning of this?" The familiar grinding voice of your farther yells out from behind the captain getting the red head to turn his head, burning amber eyes glaring at your Stoic farther who's walking down the dock to his ship surprisingly calm for a man now in the eyesight of a raging supernova. "You bastard, What the fuck do you want from her?" Kid's voice echo's out as his metal hand grips onto the mast of the ship the once perfect glistening white and chestnut wood splintering at his light grip, he wasn't going to destroy the ship just yet, plus if your mother is on there he doesn't want it sinking yet, he wants to take her out himself. Your farther's eyes narrow as he crosses his arms over his chest "She is my daughter, i would do anything for her" The blatant lie causing another wave of anger to wash over the red head his metal hand unctuously gripping tighter until the mast cracks and splinters into pieces, the part above his hand creaking and falling into the ocean, screams and cry's call out as more servants and guards rush off the ship as it rocks from the waves. Some guards run up attempting to punch or kick Wire only for the tall man to kick them into the water and send a glare to anyone else who gets any ideas, he knows know there's nothing he can do to stop this so has no chose but to watch what ever unfolds and take out anyone who gets in his captains way. "Bullshit, if you actually cared you'd have kept her away from that bitch of a wife"

A gasp is heard from the crowd of people gathered at the end of the dock your mother pushing her way to the front with a frown clear on her face "How dare you, i gave that ungrateful child everything she could want" Kid's burning eyes slowly turn to look at the woman, its clear now she was acting back at the hospital, this is the real her "You conniving, vindictive cow" The captains voice sounds almost inhuman almost like a wolf drooling and snarling over its pray, Wire quickly moves out of the way as Kid lets go of all the metal he had been collecting letting it rain down into the ocean and onto the ship impaling wood, shattering glass windows and slicing through the rapes and sails so the captain can storm over to your mother. "Get away from her" Your farther yells but makes no move to get closer, guards moves to try and protect your mother trying to stop the man from getting any closer as the woman backs up becoming scares for her life. Killer's fists shake at his sides his anger also starting to grow at seeing your mother again, he can't hear what is being said, but he knows their certainly not apologizing for what they've done, honestly it wouldn't matter if they did or not they still deserve to pay, Heat growls his hands gripping into the wooden rail of the ship threatening to break it, his throat starts to warm up and smoke starts to leek out the corners of his stitched mouth. Neither of them can hold back any longer, in unison the two walk off the Victoria earning gulps, wide grins and looks of confusion from the crew watching on, neither of them knew what they were going to do once they made it to your parents but it wasn't going to be good.

[highlordofkrypton]

warmth // an elain x lucien smut one-shot

This was written as a response to @lainalit's request for a specific Elucien scenario 😉

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've never written Elain before, and this fic turned out way more delicate than I expected! Hope you all enjoy it.

SUMMARY: Elain loves her husband, but as the emissary of the Spring Court, Lucien is always busy. She decides to set a time limit; he can work as long as he can resist her.

Read on AO3 or under the cut (tw: explicit content).

The earth feels cool on her long slender fingers; it feels like home. Old memories of their hovel drift into her mind as she pokes little burrows for the water to seep more deeply into the ground, and perhaps if she's lucky, wild little flowers will find a home to grow in.

Her work is purposeful, though humble. On one end of the garden, roses bloom, watching the centuries go by despite their creator's absence. She sings to them, and tells them stories of their son, the current High Lord of this magical, blossoming place.

"Your sprout is doing well," she whispers to the spirit of Tamlin's mother who has lived here for an eternity and a half. "But you already knew that."

The plot right beside the yellow flowers are a little hoard of alpine lotuses. They breathe with scent of crisp night, but their hearts are as bright as spring itself. Elain tends to them too; the flowers—they speak to each other. She may not be privy to their conversations, but they all seem to mirror one another.

Elain picks up her basket and adjusts her sunhat, moving from eternal flower to eternal flower. She knows each of them like old friends, some of whom their magic is familiar and others, a welcomed stranger into her life.

It was her idea to sow this garden; it was her mission to create a place of peace and safety for all those who wanted to protect what matters most to them. Faeries and humans alike would come here and plant their love, either a single grain of everything they have, or grand gestures of adoration. When Tamlin had told her to make herself at home, this was her only request. A place for all to love freely.

The High Lord had not only granted her wish, but he extended his protection over all which bloomed in his soils, no matter their origins.

Her first and last stop is always the bright orange emberflowers at the edge of her garden. When the breeze blows, their petals crackle like a warm fire on a cool summer's eve. Their song welcomes her as she approaches, and they sway at the sight of her smile—happy little children at the sight of their beloved mother.

"Hello, my darlings," she hums.

Their petals are soft, and she remembers only to touch the edges where the colour errs on the shades of fall. She had made the mistake of touching the bright ringlets of blue at their cores, and it had burned her terribly.

It was her mistake for thinking something so soft and comforting would be without its own edges. Lucien had told her their flowers hold the ferocity with which he would protect their love, but Elain knew that she would protect what they have twice as hard.

When every member of the garden has been cared for, Elain retreats to the Lord's manor. She skips past Alis and the gaggle of new handmaidens. She introduces herself briefly, quickly brushing her soiled hands across the white apron over her dress, before excusing herself. The basket of gardening tools is left on the first floor while she searches for her dutiful half, but not before washing her hands clean with lilac water.

Though she knows exactly where he is, Elain still makes a game out of it, wondering if she'll ever catch her husband in one of the many other rooms in the manor. Their room, though full of flowers and beloved paintings, is empty. The library is still a mess—a chaos that can only be attributed to guests enjoying the company of their home—but without its Lord Emissary.

She breezes through the long hallways, past the prim white walls and golden trims of intricate moldings. Her life on the other side of the wall had been years ago, and yet, she still cannot believe the opulence of a High Lord's home.

"Miss Elain, Miss Elain!" A tiny pixie buzzes beside her, crystaline wings fluttering wildly to keep up with Elain's long strides. "I did it! I did it!"

"I told you," Elain reprimands, voice light like a chime. "Elain is just fine." She holds her hands out to cup the little creature as it stands stark naked, hands on her little hips. "How did it go?"

"I told them! I told them that just because I was little, they couldn't push me around. It's not very springy of them," the pixie nods, her pointed tuft of hair bouncing with the movement. "And that the Lady of our Court would be very disappointed."

"And what did they say?"

"Um," the pixie gets shy. "Well, they said that Spring Court doesn't have a Lady, so I kicked them in the butt real hard."

Elain laughs. There are those who have yet to acclimate to her role in the Spring Court. Her husband, for all intents and purposes, is the Lord Emissary of Spring and in the absence of the Court's High Lord, the decisions fall to Lucien. She takes none of it to heart.

"I can't say I endorse the violence," Elain says firmly, but she looks around to see if anyone is around to eavesdrop. "Good job standing up for yourself." She smiles and presses a gentle kiss on the pixie's forehead. "I heard there's honey tarts in the kitchens. You should go reward yourself. Tell Aed that I, the not-Lady of the Court, sent you."

"Thank you, Miss Elain! I couldn't'a done it without you!"

The pixie flies off, excitedly doing loop-de-loops in the air, as Elain waves her goodbye.

Onwards towards my husband, Elain muses, a soft smile on her delicate features.

Five rhythmic knocks signal her arrival. Lucien lifts his head, and her heart flutters at the sight of him. Her spirits had been light already, but being with him makes her soul soar.

"My love," he greets smoothly.

"My dutiful emissary," she reprimands with a grin. "How long have you been here?"

Lucien sets his quill down, and waves away the other three that were scribbling away by the grace of his magic. "Not that long."

"Since the first crow of the cock, at least, and it is nearly noon." The grin that slithers on his face is made of mischief. Elain ignores the implications, skirting into the room. "When I married you, I thought I would have more of you."

"So did I, but our High Lord seems to have developed an aversion to paperwork. It's fatal, he says."

"Mhm, and that is why he is galavanting in Night Court?"

"He, and I quote, brought the honey — where else will he find the moon but in the Night Court?"

"Clever."

With a single finger (and his help), she coaxes his chair backwards. Elain climbs into her lap, and when he leans to press a kiss to her lips, she turns to focus on work. That is his preference, is it not? Instead, his kiss lands on the tops of her pointed ears.

"What's this?"

Elain's eyes dance across the page. It is a draft with words crossed out haphazardly and more scribbles above. She finds many things in the discarded—words of love and adoration, a plea for celebration, and a hundred other soft sentiments.

"You're still doing this?"

Lucien rests his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist securely as he reads along with her. "Mhm."

"Lucien," she breathes. "You don't need to."

He promised—he promised he would love her in every which way, including professing his love to her in the languages of the Seven Courts of Prythian. On their fingers, they wear the shadows of the Night Court, a promise to always hold one another. In their eyes, flickers of brown dot Lucien's russet, and vice versa for Elain—the magic of Dawn sealed their promise to always see one another through glamour, magic and the storm of emotions. Both Autumn and Spring bargains are sealed here in the garden, their very own fire contained in their eternal flowers.

In his newest letter, he entreats the Winter Court to allow them into their territory for the Midwinter Festival where the two of them can bring life to a snowmite through the magic of their bargain. High Lord Kallias is not his father, but since Amarantha's invasion, Lucien has always tread carefully with Winter.

"I do. I love you to the ends of this Earth and back."

"I know that, you foolish male. I don't need grand gestures."

"And yet, you will recieve them anyway," Lucien grins.

"Even at the cost of spending time with my husband?"

"I'm almost done, my darling."

Oh, this will not do. Even if Lucien says he's almost done, Elain knows that this is the lie that plagues him the most. She presses a gentle kiss to his lips. "Not good enough. Aed has prepared new recipes for us to try. The food will get cold."

She knows if she truly asked him to stop working, he would. There is nothing Lucien would deny her. Instead, an idea flutters into her mind. The kind of idea that brings a deep flush to her cheeks. Mother above, it's so unlike her, Elain doubts if she can execute it properly. She would ask her sisters were they here, but they too have taken to galavanting across Prythian now that the threat of death no longer looms above them. Not for years now.

How much is too much? She would ask them.

A few years ago, we had nothing. Nothing is too much, Feyre would surely say while grazing on a tamelon with her feet up on the ornate couch and her boots still on.

Who cares? Nesta would snap. Do what makes you happy, El. He's a male, he will be happy with whatever you give him.

It's true, Feyre would agree.

It's a wonder how things have changed—how three sisters who could not be more different are now in sync. Their family, once fractured, feels whole again.

"You will have a time limit."

Lucien's auburn brows perk. "Oh? And how much time will I have?"

"That depends," Elain says, getting up and adjusting her skirts. She feigns looking for something under her desk.

"On what? What are you looking for down there?" Rather than answer, she pulls his chair closer, effectively trapping her beneath the desk, between his legs. "Elain?"

Never in her years has she thought of doing something like this. She has always watched the others; how freely they express their adoration for their partners. Her shyness has always overwhelmed her. If not, the propriety he mother taught her always took precedence. Her duty as the wife of an emissary is to represent him well. What use is there for her to do such things?

Only one way to find out.

Arousal pools in her belly before she even begins, warmth settling between her legs. She bites her lip, fascinated by the magic of her own mind. She hasn't done anything, and yet her body knows.

Elain's slender fingers smooth over Lucien's thighs. Beneanth the tailored fabric, she can feel the strength of his lean muscles. His style has always been a choice, projecting elegance and flair, all while hiding the power beneath. (Power that she knows well.)

She kisses his knee, a loving gesture he has done to her time and time again—one that she is happy to reciprocate. Her touch wanders to his hips, and his ass without lingering too long.

"Elain." Lucien's voice is a shuddered breath. "What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself while you finish your work."

"Elain," he outright moans, a single-word complaint.

A smile dances on her lips as her hand explores the blooming erection between his legs. Elain laughs softly, but its drowned out by Lucien's groan. He spreads himself as much as he can, trapped between the walls of the desk. He could shatter the desk, but that would defy the point of her game.

Button by button, Elain takes her sweet time in freeing her husband's cock from the confines of his tailored trousers. It springs free, tall, proud and glistening, even in the dim light under the desk. She takes it in his hand, stroking the soft skin and toying with the folds of his tip.

"Ah, ah, Elain."

He speaks her name like a prayer, like salvation wrapped up in a single sound. His hips rise, looking for more friction, and the attempt makes her pull back. She is in charge, not him. Lucien groans, sitting up properly. He sighs, and above her, the quills begin to scribble once more.

He's getting it, she hums to herself, amused.

Elain leans forward, kissing the root of his erection. Her warm breath curls over his skin. She presses her lips along its length until she reaches the top and tongues beneath the skin to taste the salty-sweet of his precome. She lingers there for a bit, listening to the heavy breaths of her husband as he reigns in his desire. Then, when she's satisfied, she trails back down towards his balls. Each one is taken whole in her mouth, sucked lovingly. She nips at the skin; she gets to enjoy him in a new way today, entirely at her own pace and without his distractions.

Her husband is an impatient man, and a giving man, which means that she cannot have him on display like this—which means that she has never had him at her mercy. He squirms when the cool air hits his saliva-slicked balls.

"Keep playing with them," he pleads, but he is not in control here. The only thing Elain cares to hear is whether or not he is enjoying himself.

"Elain, you will be the death of me." He pauses, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "You give me life."

Another kiss graces Lucien's tip. Then, Elain spreads her lips to take him into her mouth. She cannot take him whole, not on the first try, and her throat seizes around him. She has to pull back.

"Fuck," he growls.

Elain tries again.

His cock slides into the warmth of her throat, and she holds him there. Just a little more. She just has to figure out how to take a little more of him. Thinking about it doesn't help, but she knows she has to measure her breath. She knows that she has to simply enjoy this.

Her fingers slip between her legs, feeling the moist patch at the centre of her undergarments. Outside the pink fabric, Elain applies pressure. A soft pulsing rhythm to distract her. The more she toys with herself, the more willing she is to open her mouth, to coax that fluttering muscle at the back of her mouth to yield for her husband's thick length.

"Are you playing with yourself?" He asks from above. "I can smell you, my sweet flower."

"Mhm."

"Fuck. I can just see it, my love. I could come on the very thought of you fingering yourself for me, so you can take me deeper."

Elain stops, wincing her eyes shut. She could come on the words spilling from that damned mouth of his and he isn't trying. (She has come on his words alone.) Breath heavy, she swallows him to the root.

And then, she simply stays there.

"I want to fuck your mouth," Lucien complains. "I want to fuck your mouth. Fuck. You feel so good." His fingers curl into the desk, scraping at the wood. There is a long moment where he seems at war with himself, debating whether to give into his desire for this beautiful, wonderful woman at his feet, but he proves himself to be the better male.

Lucien gets to work. Elain remains between his legs, warming his cock with her mouth. She stops toying with herself. Instead, she leans her cheek against his thigh and waits. Occasionally, his fingers would reach down to caress her hair—to toy with her ear affectionally—before he finishes what he was writing. Whenever he touches her, Elain's eyes would flutter shut in sheer comfort.

Her eyes flutter shut. Occasionally, Elain will shift her tongue and even the slightest bit of friction will have him hardening once more. Her jaw begins to ache; like magic, he reaches down to massage the tense muscle. His hand trails down her neck, then to her shoulder for a gentle, grateful squeeze.

She hears him without him neeeding to say anything—

What have I done to deserve you?

It's why he will anchor their love in every Court, in every single one of their love languages. For her.

"I'm done," his voice rouses her from her comfortable lull, despite her mouth full of his cock. "Do you—"

Elain sits straighter, gripping his hip with one hand and withdrawing herself from him ever so slightly. She wraps her slender fingers around the base and begins bobbing her head, filling the room with wet, slurping sounds. She hollows her cheeks, sucking her husband's cock to the best of her ability.

"Hnng, my love."

Strands of her hair fall into her face, and before she can pause to tuck them behind her ear, Lucien's already there, gathering her hair in one hand and pulling slightly.

"You'll let me know if I get too rough?"

Elain nods.

Lucien starts to move against her, gently at first. Each thrust into her warm, wet, welcome mouth strikes at her chore. Wetness pools between her legs; she swears that she is ruining the soft carpet beneath her knees, but she has no regrets. None.

She tugs on the hem of his shirt. More, she asks, politely.

The bond nudges at her mind gently. Elain closes her eyes while Lucien fucks her mouth, letting the full breadth of their mating enter her.

She can feel it. Goddesses, she can feel him. She can feel the way her mouth encapsulates the length of his cock—the way her throat flutters around his tip. Each clench sends waves of ecstacy through Lucien, and he fights the urge to grip her hair and properly fuck her.

Oh, that is most definitely a problem.

Elain shifts gears. Using Lucien's thighs as leverage, she ups the pace, bobbing her head on him with fierce determination.

"Elain, ahhhh, Elain. I'm going to come."

Each time she spears herself upon him, the thrust is felt at her core like—like he's fucking both her mouth and her cunt at once. It pulls at her mind in every which way, wearing at her focus. She cannot decide between the high of worshipping Lucien with her mouth or being ridden.

"Let me," Lucien breathes, coaxing her to let him take control with a gentle touch along her jaw.

Elain nods.

His angle shifts, and he cups both her cheeks while driving himself into her. Her pussy clenches, as if trying to grab hold of something that isn't there, but she feels him. Elain slackens her jaw, the only way to take him at this pace. Although he truly, properly fucks her mouth, he's still careful. He never passes the threshold of her throat, never dares choke her; he is delicate in his use of her.

"I'm close, are you—are you sure you don't want me too —ah!"

Her fingers curl around his balls, fondling him. Her touch slips further back towards his perineum, and then, and then—does she dare? Elain presses the pad of one finger against his asshole.

"Elain."

Lucien's reaction is immediate, bucking into her mouth. Warmth floods her, and she has the bitter-sweet taste of his come on her tongue. He pumps into her a couple of more times, hips rolling from the high of ecstacy. When he pulls back, a dribble of saliva and cum escape her lips. She dabs at it, and swallows.

Elain blinks up at him, nothing the expression of surprise on her husband's face. Every time they've made love, he has been the one to take the lead. The fingering trick, that was his that she turned against him and it worked in her absolute favour. She ducks her head, sheepish.

"Don't look at me like that," Lucien grins. He picks her up, carefully placing his hand on her head to protect her from bumping it on the underside of the desk. "It's time for me to return the favour."

"We'll be late for lunch," she says with a deep flush on her cheeks.

"That's not very fair, is it? You've had your fill." Lucien pulls her close, leaning in to breathe into her ear. "Shall I save you for dessert then?" He squeezes her hands as he nips the lobe of her ear, just below the pretty fox earrings her sisters had gotten her for her last birthday. "Next time, don't swallow. I want to taste us." Lucien kisses her anyway.

Oh, oh, her face burns.

"Lucien!"

She smacks his shoulder, but takes a note for next time. There is much opportunity to explore herself and her husband. Some would say, there is an eternity ahead of them.

[blueraineshadows]

Good morning, lovely lady! I'm very sorry to bother you again!

I have a little request if you find the time :)

I'm going through some stuff in my life atm that's really getting me down, so I need as much escapism as possible! 😅

*******

So after Hogwarts, MC and everybody went their separate ways. She hasn't seen Sebastian for years, but occasionally, they talk via owl. I'm thinking that Seb went on and got a really exciting job where he could travel and explore? Maybe MC got some kind of job at the Ministry that was a little less exciting?

Anyway, MC ends up meeting a handsome man at the office she works at, and he courts her before proposing to her. She says yes, even though she still harbours deep feelings for Sebastian, but she hasn't seen him for literally years.

At first, the fiance is really nice and kind, but he's been wearing her down little by little. A bit controlling. MC feels she's becoming quiet and docile.

There's a Hogwarts reunion in Hogsmeade and MC reunites with everyone. Sebastian attends, and there's still this literal connection between him and MC. They chat, and she introduces him to her fiance, whom Seb dislikes very much. He sees how they interact with each other and is furious.

Seb corners MC later in the night, after a few drinks, and tells her her fiance is an ass. That he's draining her spark. MC is angry at Seb, but there's so much sexual tension between them. Queue elicit affair-y smut between them.

Maybe fiance discovers and tries to drag MC away, but Sebs having none of it? Meh, Im rambling now, but you get the idea 😅❤️

Thank you for the Ask! 💜 I hope this meets your expectations...I got rather into it, so it's quite long!

Emotional/Fluffy/Spicy ❤️🥰🌶

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC x OC William Bennett

Dearest MC,

I hope this letter finds you well. How is London? I hear the weather has been very hot this summer. I can only imagine the assault on the senses a bustling city like London conjures in such heat.

As for me, I have spent three weeks in Italy, and it is beautiful, rich with history. You would have loved the library archives with its relics. It made me think of you and our times together. I wish you could have seen it. Currently, I am making my way back to England, stopping off to meet with Ominis, before returning to Feldcroft.

I hear there is a reunion of our old class mates in Hogsmeade at the end of the month. All being well with my journey, I hope to make it and see everyone. It will be nice to reunite with old faces and hear new tales. Are you attending? It would be lovely to see your face again. If I am lucky enough to attend, then I hope to see you there.

Be well. I miss you, as always.

Yours,

Sebastian.

The parchment was beginning to curl at the edges, she had read it so many times. MC smoothed the tip of her finger over Sebastian's name, signed by his own hand, and felt a weight settle heavily over her chest. His letters were few and far between, but each one woke up the most secret part of her heart. That special place where she kept her feelings for Sebastian curled up tight.

MC had not seen Sebastian for years, not since he had left to travel the world for his new job, leaving her behind to sit at a stuffy Ministry desk all day. She cherished every letter he sent, but her deepest desire was to see him, to hear his voice. It tightened her throat just to think of it.

"Darling, are you here?"

MC jumped at the sound of William's voice and quickly folded the parchment, tucking it away safely inside her blouse. She smoothed her hair and set her face into one of calm sweetness, William did hate it if she didn't look pleased to see him.

She grabbed the pile of files from her desk that needed to be stored and stood up, making herself look busy as William appeared in her office doorway. He looked dapper in his fine suit, top hat in hand, his coat over one arm. He smiled, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "There you are, my love," he said. "Care for some lunch?"

"Of course," she said. She patted the files. "Do I have time to file these?"

He looked at the folders, a slight frown on his lips. "If you must. I will be glad to see the day when you no longer have to be messing about with old, dusty archives."

"It's not so bad," she replied. She attempted a smile, trying to please him. "I quite enjoy it. When I was at Hogwarts..."

"Yes, yes, I know," he said, waving a hand to brush away her words. He moved to tug the files from her arms and dump them on her desk. "Soon you will not need to worry about such things. You will have social events to attend, girlfriends to have afternoon tea with. As my wife, you will want for nothing, I promise you. No need to sit at a desk all day wasting your time with your nose stuck in a book."

He chuckled and shook his head, fetching her coat from the hook. "Honestly, women who read!" He clicked his tongue and held the coat up for her. "I thought we would lunch at that lovely place near the river we like."

"Of course," she agreed. "Whatever makes you happy, my dear."

His smile was satisfied as he took her arm and led her out of the office. She kept her head down and her smile polite, nodding and saying all the appropriate words as they walked from the Ministry towards their restaurant.

Behind this meek mask, her heart was twisting at the feel of Sebastian's letter against her breast. How had she let her old life slip so far through her fingers? How had she ended up so lost?

She tightened her hold on her fiancé's arm, thinking that he might be the only thing holding her up right now. Handsome William Bennett, heir to a railroad fortune, deep in favour with the Minister for Magic, and admired by many. He had charmed her, courted her relentlessly, and then he had proposed. It had been the bottom of a long, lonely, slippery slope and she had accepted.

The huge diamond glittered on her finger, but her heart felt dull, empty. Somehow MC had lost herself and she wasn't sure how to get herself back.

....*....

The train slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station and MC stepped from her carriage, hand in William's as he escorted her, the image of the perfect gentleman. Behind his polite demeanour, he was quietly seething. He had not wanted to make this trip, but had refused to allow her to travel alone. It was unbecoming for a young woman, he had lectured. So, despite his disdain, he had accompanied MC.

The Scottish Highlands were looking as beautiful as ever and MC took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in the familiar sights. She felt some of the weight lifting from her heart. It felt like coming home.

The next port of call was The Three Broomsticks. William had reserved two rooms for them.

"We could, of course, share a room," he murmured, near her ear. She felt herself clam up, her fingers clutching his arm a little tighter. He mistook the movement for something a little more desirable and brushed his fingers over her knuckles. "We will be wed come the winter, it wouldn't be the most terrible thing to share a bed, and you could almost say it is a romantic setting."

He gestured at the quaint little village, his eyes warming with desire as he gazed down at her. "I would love nothing more than for you to come to me at night, share my bed."

She flushed and lowered her gaze. William was handsome, to be sure, and MC had shared kisses with him, polite courting touches. But there was no fire there, no burning need to feel him closer. Waiting for marriage was an excuse, and one that would soon be void. MC didn't want to think on it.

"I...I'm not sure if that's entirely appropriate," she said, quickly. "This is a close knit community, people talk. We should wait until we are married, William. It's the right thing to do."

William's lips tightened in disappointment, but he nodded, regretfully removing his caress from her hand. "Of course, my love. Seperate rooms it is."

MC fought back her shiver of relief.

That evening, dressed in a dark green dress with silver threading in the bodice (not in the hope of impressing a certain Slytherin, of course), MC entered the bar of The Three Broomsticks. Her corset was tight, but she was breathless for a whole other reason. Tonight, she might see him. Sebastian might have come.

"MC!" Poppy came bounding out of nowhere, cheeks flushed with happiness, her hands clasping MC's tightly. "Oh, I am so glad you came!"

The girls embraced and MC felt the burn of tears as her old friend squeezed her tightly. "I have missed you, Poppy. And look at you! So beautiful!"

William frowned at such open displays of affection, but he was polite when introduced. MC couldn't help but see the flicker of confused disappointment in Poppy's eyes at the word, fiancé. MC fixed her smile in place and moved to greet the others.

Garreth and Leander were there, Natty and a few others MC was pleased to see, but her eyes couldn't help but stray to the entrance, her heart hoping for a glimpse of unruly brown hair.

William was bored, his face a little sour as he stood by the bar. He watched MC closely, frowning when Garreth and pulled her in for a hug. MC had soothed William with soft touches on the arm, reassuring smiles, but she was tense, afraid of doing or saying something wrong. If only he had let her come alone. If only she could breathe.

And then the doors opened, two men walked through, and MC's heart dropped, stilled and then soared, beating a mile a minute. Ominis looked so dashing, and tall, commanding the space around him as his wand led him further into the bar. Beside him, as always, was Sebastian.

"Oh," MC breathed. The sound escaping her lips without any thought for hesitation. Oh, but he looked so wonderful! Better than she had ever imagined!

Sebastian's face had lost it's smooth roundness of boyhood, but it had filled out in other ways, ways that made MC's mouth feel so very dry all of a sudden. His shoulders, his hips, the length of his legs, the way he laughed at something Ominis had just said, his head falling back just so. Her starved eyes gobbled it all, hungrily. He pushed long fingers into his hair, rumpling the brown locks and MC felt her hands clench into tiny little fists. Oh, how her fingers longed to do the same.

She thought she might cry, faint like some over dramatic socialite, or maybe just lose the entire contents of her stomach right here in front of everyone. Butterflies were flipping madly in there and she pressed a hand to her chest, that heavy tightness seeming to become a pounding thud. Or was that her heart?

"Goodness me, is that the youngest Gaunt boy?" William asked.

Ominis was hardly a boy any longer, and would no doubt frown at the term, but William could be pompous and irritating at times. He had a habit of behaving as if people were below him, and MC wondered how it had not bothered her sooner.

MC tore her gaze from Sebastian to nod at him. "Yes, Ominis Gaunt," she replied. Her words were a little breathless, her eyes desperate to return to Sebastian. "I thought I had told you I attended Hogwarts alongside him."

William's gaze was sharp, almost irritated. "You did not. You must introduce me, MC."

"Of course," she agreed. She took William's arm and they moved to join her two favourite Slytherin boys at the bar.

Sebastian's gaze fell on MC and he stilled, pure delight washing over his features. "You came!" He exclaimed.

Ominis stilled beside him, his head tilting a little in the direction Sebastian had spoken. His words were soft, filled with warmth. "Don't tell me MC is here?" He smiled and held out a hand. "Then I must greet her at once. Where are you, my dear, for I have missed you a good deal."

MC flushed and held out her hand, placing it in Ominis', who then placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. William watched the whole thing, his mouth tightening at the familiarity between his fiancé and the young Mr Gaunt.

Sebastian was watching too, his eyes only for MC, as if he needed to savour detail as she had of him.

"Ominis, may I introduce my fiancé, William Bennett?" She guided Ominis towards William who shook his hand in greeting.

"Bennett?" Ominis asked. "Of the Bennett Railroad family?"

"The very same," William said, proudly.

Sebastian's eyes at darkened at this introduction, his eyes now assessing William closely, his lips thinning a little. Ominis turned to introduce him, and while William was polite, he had no interest in Sebastian. He was more keen to speak with Ominis, to rub shoulders with a well known Wizarding family.

William looked down at MC. "Why don't you run along and chit chat with your little chums, my love, and let the men talk."

Sebastian's eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he glanced between William and MC. A flush darkened MC's cheeks and she nodded meekly, unable to even meet Sebastian's gaze. If she had, she would have seen the shock in his eyes at her timid behaviour. The girl he knew would have been spitting fire if someone had belittled her like that.

MC left William to talk to Ominis, every fibre of her being trying to resist as she turned her back on Sebastian. It hadn't been enough, not nearly enough, and she almost gasped at the need to be nearer to him.

They sat for dinner, William dominating Ominis' attention, but he kept a possessive hand at MC's arm or lower back at any given opportunity. When they ordered, MC had quite fancied the chicken, but William ordered the beef for the both of them, not even consulting MC to see if that's what she wanted.

MC risked a glance towards Sebastian and swallowed at the fury in his eyes as he glared at William. Her heart pounded. Shame made her gaze drop to her lap, her fingers twisting her napkin. She felt like an outsider imposing in on her own body. Her very ears rung with the horror of losing her own sense of self.

She looked at the people sitting around the table, chatting, laughing, her own lips moving and attempting to smile, but it felt strange. Her heart craved all of this, these familiar and much loved faces, but her head was warped. She felt trapped.

The only thing that helped was the wine, and even that had been chosen and poured for her by William.

Poppy clasped her arm after they had finished their meal. She leant across to William. "I am going to steal your lovely fiancé for a time, we have some much needed girl talk to catch up on."

A crease appeared on his brow as he stared at Poppy, then he glanced across the table towards Sebastian, who was deep in conversation with Garreth. Slowly, he nodded. "Of course, you two ladies have fun."

Poppy led MC away from the table and outside into the cooling evening air. MC gulped down her breaths and held on to Poppy, grateful for the escape.

Sebastian may have been talking to Garreth, but he had been keeping an eye on MC all night, his fury mounting at the way that pompous bastard had belittled and shamed her. His fingers ached from the need to smash his fist into the prick's pretty face.

Poppy pulled a hip flask from her silk bag and held it out to MC. "Here, you look like you could do with some of this."

MC saw the flask. "That had better be fire whiskey," she said.

"What else?" Poppy grinned.

MC took the bottle and swallowed two long gulps, gasping, but relishing the burn as it went down.

"Why him, MC?" Poppy asked, bluntly. "Why William?"

MC shrugged. "He was kind to me."

Poppy frowned. "That is no reason to sign yourself up to marriage with him," she said. "I mean, you don't look yourself, not a happy, blushing bride in the slightest. And, yes, he is pretty, but he is no Sebastian, MC. Not by a long stretch."

MC gaped. "Wh...what?"

Poppy gave her look. "Oh, MC, really? We're not kids anymore, and you are not fooling anyone, especially me. The tension between you two is so thick, you could slice it with a good Diffindo!"

MC's blush touched the tips of her ears. "Do you think William has noticed?"

"If he hasn't, then he is even more of a fool than I thought."

MC stared at her. Horror was one emotion tugging at her. The very idea of William knowing the depth of her feelings for Sebastian was chilling. But she could also see the ridiculous predicament she had found herself in, and it really was one of her own making. But how would she get out of it?

Maybe it was the alcohol going to her head, or maybe she was going mad. Either way, she started giggling, and then she couldn't stop. And then Poppy was giggling. It felt good, so good. It was a release and MC seized it with both hands. She held up the fire whiskey. "I think I need some more of this."

....*....

The air inside the bar was becoming too suffocating and her corset felt like an iron band. MC was flushed from the whiskey, hot and flustered by the presence of one Mr Sallow, and yet he still wasn't close enough for her liking.

She met his gaze for about the 100th time and he smiled, a delicious, sinfully beautiful smile. Her lips parted. Oh, Merlin. She really might faint this time. And then he was moving towards her. Her pulse picked up the pace and she wiped sweaty palms against her hips.

William was visiting the bathroom, there was no other distraction, and then Sebastian was in front of her. "There you are," he said, softly. His gaze was warm. "Finally, a moment alone."

"Yes," she breathed. She stared at him, inwardly kicking herself. Yes? Is that really all she could say?

A torrent of unspoken words hung between them, suspended, dangling like tempting fruit. Now that he was right there, in front of her, her tongue seemed frozen and all she could do was stare.

A flicker of concern clouded his eyes. "I did worry a little when you didn't reply to my last letter. I had hoped you would be here, even if just to ease my mind that you were alright."

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was rude of me. But, I am glad to see you here. I am glad you made it safely home."

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, but he still looked concerned. "I didn't expect to find you engaged, though. That was a surprise. At least you have someone looking out for you, if that's what he actually does?"

Her lips tried to lift into a smile, but she had never been able to lie to him. The words that fell from her lips felt stilted, wrong. "I'm fine."

His eyes narrowed a little. "You are happy, aren't you? I mean, it's what you want."

She knew what he meant, oh she did. He knew her better than she knew herself, even though miles and time had kept them apart. She needed to smile and nod, the perfect little puppet she had become, tell him that she was happy, she was fine. Her life was all roses and smiles, etc, etc.

Her lips parted but nothing came out. His eyes dropped to her mouth, distracted by their movement and nerves made her tongue dart outwards, flicking over her bottom lip. Her breathing stalled at the way his eyes darkened, a fire building behind them, and her traitorous body responded. Flame, searing and coiling deliciously, overwhelmed her and she actually gasped, because she was leaning forward. Her body, like a magnet, was drawn to him, impossibly drawn to where it belonged.

Shock at the realisation made her straighten and she pressed trembling fingers to her cheeks. Where she belonged!

Merlin, she couldn't breathe. She turned on her heel and made a dash for the door, not caring who saw as she grabbed up the skirt of her dress and headed out into the fresh air.

Of course, Sebastian followed. Hadn't he always?

He caught up to her, took her arm, and spun her to face him. "Please...don't." She gasped.

He didn't let go. She looked down at where his long fingers held her forearm, not gripping her, just holding her. No possession, no demand, just a touch. Her lips trembled.

"I've seen you face countless monstrous enemies, take down the darkest wizards and slaughter trolls in broad daylight," he said. "But I have never seen you cower, or hide as much as you have tonight, MC, and it rips me open. It kills me to see you so, a shadow of your former self. How did this happen? Is it him? Does he hurt you?"

"Of course he doesn't hurt me! Don't be ridiculous."

"You're aren't happy though, are you? Not really," he pushed.

Her chest heaved against the tight laces of her corset, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. He was right, gods he was right and she hated it, because it meant she was wrong, she had failed.

"I...we shouldn't be talking like this..." She glanced around the now darkened street.

Sebastian's face tightened. "Why? Because dear William won't like it?"

She flinched.

He tugged her a little closer. She let him, her eyes glued to his. "Well, I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks."

A small cry left her lips as he grasped her hand and began to walk her away from the entrance of the pub, his stride determined. She had to jog to keep up, her little heels clacking on the cobbles, her other hand lifting the hem of her dress.

He took her to a darker, more secluded corner, and a thrill shot through her despite everything. She found herself backed up against a stone wall, his face inches from hers. He leant a hand against the wall near her head, his other hand coming up to gently cup her face. She closed her eyes, the touch of his skin against hers a forbidden flame.

Merlin, she was leaning into it!

"Tell me the truth," he begged. "Tell me he makes you happy, and I will leave you alone, I promise. But if he doesn't, even if there is the smallest doubt, then tell me. You can tell me."

"Sebastian..." Her voice was a whisper, a plea. "Don't..."

"I cannot bare the thought of leaving you with him if he is going to continue to crush you like he is, because that girl I knew at school, that wonderful, fiercesome girl, who knocked me on my arse on my first day...that girl is going to die if you let him bully you like that."

She stared up at him. Her heart hurt. Maybe she was already dead inside and that was why she had let things slide so far.

He looked down suddenly, and she followed his gaze. Her breath stilled. When had her fingers threaded themselves into his clothing? She was grasping the front of his vest, a fistful of cloth under white knuckles. She couldn't let him go either. If she let him go, then she might just float away, lost to the skies, a drifting ghost of herself.

Their gazes met again. How she had missed those eyes!

"Don't look at me like that." His voice was rougher, deeper, an edge to it that made her skin erupt with goosebumps.

"Why not?" She was playing with fire. She was going to burn herself.

"Because it makes me want to throw decency out the window, and kiss you until I can't breathe," he said, darkly.

Oh, she was definitely going to burn. She realised she didn't care.

The fingers curled in his vest pulled him closer until his lips were a breath from hers. "Do it," she sighed. "I can't breathe anyway."

The moan in her throat was relief. His lips found hers, a soft, teasing taste that promised so much more. Eagerly, she welcomed him, parting her lips and offering her tongue, the taste of him more intoxicating than any fire whiskey.

Her fingers found their way into his hair, sliding through the softness, and it sharpened the ache growing within her. Her body pressed up against his, the solid length of his frame so safe, but exciting. Their clothing was an irritating barrier, her skin screamed to feel his, like she wouldn't feel complete until she could wrap herself around it.

"Gods, MC..." He groaned, his mouth moving to taste her jaw, her throat, his tongue swirling up to flick against her ear. Her grip in his hair tightened. Yes, this was what she wanted, what she craved.

MC closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his lips on her neck, his mouth sucking, tasting her flesh. The warmth of his hand seared through the silk of her dress at her waist, the bones of her corset stressed under the pace of her breathing. "More," she panted. "Sebastian..."

He claimed her mouth again, his hips rocking against her, her back scraping against the stone of the wall. She smoothed a hand down the expanse of his back, melting at the flex of muscle, before drifting lower, daring a squeeze of his delicious backside.

"Fuck," he breathed. The profanity sent a crackling thrill through her, and she moaned. Yes, she would love to do that, craved it even.

He began moving his mouth downwards again, lower this time to swirl his tongue against the tops of her breasts, the flesh moving rapidly above the rim of her corset with every panting breath. His fingers tugged at the damned thing. "I need more of you," he muttered.

And she would give it, gladly, she realised. A pin slid from her hair, a long lock tumbling free to tickle against her flushed cheeks. She was lost, drunk on his kisses, his touch, and it was nowhere near enough. She felt like a woman starved.

A rustle of silk, cool air against her legs and then a warm hand smoothing up the flesh of her thigh. The sound that left her throat was almost feral. "Yes, yes," she panted. She grabbed at him, fingers tugging his shirt free from his trousers, a hand sliding up underneath to explore the hot, firm flesh waiting for her there.

She ached for his touch, her thighs trembled in anticipation as he slid his hand higher. Just a bit more, she begged silently, her eyes squeezed tight. Just a bit higher. His finger tips grazed against damp silk, and then he was gone, ripped from her clutches forcefully, and someone was shouting.

"How dare you!" William held Sebastian by the scruff of his neck, shaking him, fury twisting his face into something terrible, frightening even. "How dare you lay your hands on my fiancé!"

MC was gasping, her hair in disarray, her skirts caught up revealing a bare leg. Red marks of passion bloomed on her throat and chest, all the way down to her neckline. Her legs shook, not from fear, but from a need unmet.

"William!" She held out a hand for him to stop, the other hand hastily smoothing down her skirts. "Stop, William!"

Sebastian shook himself free of William easily enough, shoving him backwards and whipping out his wand. He aimed it at William, his lip curled. "Grab me like that again and you'll know about it!"

William pulled his own wand out, eyes narrowed. A stand off. William flicked his gaze towards MC and his fury faltered, his mouth gaped at the sight of her so dishevelled. "MC..."

She smoothed the loose strands of her mussed hair back from her face, the beginnings of a flush flooding her cheeks. She kept her hand held out, stepping between both men. "Lower your wands," she said. She looked at William. "Please."

"I think not," William said. "He dares to put his hands on you, violating you in such a way. I ought to castrate him for this!"

"I'd like to see you try," Sebastian spat. He adjusted his stance.

"Stop it, both of you!" MC had thought herself in a mess before, but this, this was something else.

"I knew it! I knew he was going to do something like this, just from the way he was watching you at dinner. His eyes never left you," William growled. "Disgusting, loathsome piece of trash. You are not worthy of her!"

MC gasped, her body moving to guard Sebastian. He was more than capable of looking out for himself, but she couldn't help it. Out of the two, she would jump in front of Sebastian first. Every time.

"Did he hurt you? I've a good mind to call an Officer to deal with this," William said. He was trying to aim his wand around her at Sebastian, outrage twisting his mouth.

He thought Sebastian had attacked her! It had not occurred to William that she had been willing. MC put her hands to her forehead. Oh, Gods, this was getting worse!

"There will be no need for an Officer," she said. She backed up towards Sebastian.

"Don't be ridiculous, MC," William snapped. "Now, step out of the way and let me deal with this filthy heathen."

MC went calm. She straightened, her eyes growing hard as an old fire awoke in her, the part of her that had been a fearless fighter. She backed up further still, her hands feeling for Sebastian and he took hold of one, his wand arm coming over her shoulder, still pointing at William.

William's eyes bulged as Sebastian wrapped his other arm about her waist, holding her against him. "What is this!?"

"Lower your wand," she said, coldly.

William hesitated, torn, but lowered his wand. "MC, you better start explaining this," he said. He looked from her to Sebastian, to the way Sebastian's arm held her protectively. "Did you let him touch you like that?"

William looked horrified, disgusted. MC felt a brief flash of shame, but shook it off. "I'm sorry, William," she said, calmly. "But, yes, I did."

William's jaw clenched. He stared at her, his humiliation playing out across his face. She swallowed. And then, William looked a little smug. "What will this do to your reputation?" He spoke with an oily undertone. "Oh dear, MC, rutting with a nobody in the street. Of course, how could I marry such a harlot? Your name will be a shameful piece of gossip whispered in parlour rooms. I expect it would be highly unlikely that the Minister would appreciate such behaviour. Such a shame to lose your pathetic little job over it too."

"You wouldn't," she gasped.

Sebastian moved his mouth closer to her ear, the warmth of his breath brushing her hair gently. "Let me take him," he whispered. "It would be my pleasure."

And he could do it, she knew he could. She had seen him kill before, just as he had seen her kill. She had covered for him, lied, to save him from Azkaban. She did not make that choice only to see him sent there anyway, and for her honour.

William shook his head in distate. "You would honestly choose him, over me?"

Her hand gripped Sebastian's arm, holding it against her stomach. "I love him," she said. There was no doubt, no faltering in her words. It was the truth at last. "I always have, ever since I was a girl."

She heard, and felt, Sebastian's breath hitch, and his arm tightened around her. She hoped with every fibre of her being that he felt the same way, otherwise she was making a monstrous fool of herself.

William flinched at her confession as if she had slapped him. He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head, and then his wand flicked upwards, a spell shooting from the end of it. His face pure rage.

But, Sebastian was ready. He blocked the spell with ease, and cast Bombarda in return, sending William flying across the street into a stack of crates. The crash echoed across the cobbles and MC gasped. "Sebastian!"

"It's alright, I've got you," he said. "I've got you."

She sagged against him. "Don't let me go," she whispered.

And then the world spun, blackness, and with a pop, they landed onto a wooden floor. MC sat up, disoriented, gazing around. Her stomach still catching up with her after Apparating.

She turned to look at Sebastian. She recognised where they were. It was his cottage in Feldcroft.

She was sitting on the floor with Sebastian, in his home, just the two of them. She had admitted that she loved him. The weight in her chest had lifted. The enormity of the whole evening crashed over her and the tears gathered in her eyes. Her lips trembled, and then she was sobbing.

Immediately, Sebastian pulled her into his arms, kisses rained down over her hair, her face. His lips kissed the tears from her cheeks and his hands soothed her, calming strokes on her arms and hair. "It's alright, you're safe here," he murmured. "You never have to go back there, to him. It's alright now."

She pulled back to look at him, her hand moving to his cheek. It was real. He was real. "You were gone," she sobbed. "You left and I thought I might never see you again."

His face was pained, his eyes regretful. "I had to leave, get away from this house. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

She buried her face into his shirt, clutching him tightly. "I can't believe you're really here."

"I would have taken you with me if...if I had known..." He faltered and took a breath. He leant his chin on top of her head. "Did you mean what you said back there?"

She nodded. "Every word."

He groaned, squeezing her tighter. "Gods, the time we have lost. Years apart...I should have taken you with me."

She looked up at him. "We still have time," she said. She hesitated. "We could have the rest of our lives."

Their gazes locked. "I've always loved you," he said. "I thought it was only in my dreams that you felt the same way."

She shifted up and put her forehead against his. She huffed a laugh. "We're both as bad as each other. Ominis was right, we are a right pair of idiots."

"I won't tell him you said that, he would be far too smug," Sebastian grinned.

He took her left hand and pulled the huge diamond from her ring finger. "Let's get rid of this shall we?"

"I should return it," she mused.

"Not in person you won't," he said, firmly. He twirled the ring thoughtfully. "Wait here."

He climbed to his feet and moved towards a chest in the corner. He rummaged through it until he found a small box and returned to kneel on the floor beside her. He flipped the lid and turned it to face her. "This was my mother's," he said.

MC looked at his face, surprised to see him looking so shy. She couldn't recall a time she had ever seen Sebastian shy. Then, she looked in the box. Inside was a silver ring set with a pretty emerald, a tiny diamond each side of it.

"It's not as big as the one you were wearing," Sebastian said.

"It's beautiful," she said immediately. And it was. Not flashy, not heavy, not a statement. Beautiful, and sentimental to him.

"Would you wear it?" He asked. She met his gaze, lips parted. "As my wife."

He honestly had to stop stealing her breath like this, it really couldn't be healthy for a girl.

He smirked, his eyes playful. "You could come and see the world with me. I think it might look even more beautiful with you beside me."

She smiled. "How can I say no to that?"

"Quite easily," he said. "But I would rather you said yes."

She looked down at his mother's pretty ring and held out her hand, fingers spread a little. "I suppose you had better make sure it fits then."

His fingers shook as he took the ring from the box and slipped it on to her finger. Of course, it was a perfect fit. He smiled. "It's like it was waiting for you."

She took hold of his shirt front, fingers gripping hold of him like she had back in Hogsmeade. "Now, where were we?" She asked.

His lips curved into that delicious smile she loved so much. "Allow me to refresh your memory," he said.

His mouth claimed hers as if he never intended to stop, and she didn't want him to. Ever.

Click HERE for part 2

[honeyynymphh]

| Freshly Squeezed |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E word count: 10k tags/warnings: dom copia, voyeurism, masturbation, teacher/student (sort of)praise kink, dirty talk, glove kink, choking, dom/sub, google translated italiano

A secret passageway. A far too ditzy curious reader. And a very naked Cardinal.

Hmm.

read on ao3 part two

“Where is it!?”

“Shh.”

You raise your hands apologetically at the ghoul currently glaring at you. The library is full of the muted sounds of turning pages, sporadic coughs and then the squeak of the old trolley as another ghoul returns books to the towering shelves. Maybe you should ask the ghoul if there is a spellbook full of incantations to help you remember where you left your belongings. You huff out a breath, you were certain that your prayer book had to be in here. It had been only an hour ago that you had been in here studying and there was nowhere else it—

“Fuck,” you say, voice echoing in the large chamber of the library.

“Shh!” The ghoul glares at you again, its eyes burning in the sockets of its mask.

Guiltily you scurry out of the library, wincing as the door clangs shut behind you. You hurry through the warren of halls and towards the old rooms along the eastern wing of the abbey. There were many rooms along this part of the old building, most empty and filled with dust. But many of the lessons taught by the Clergy were held here. The large rooms were filled with rickety old desks and large chalkboards. Once upon a time, they all would have been in use, but not these days. There were definitely more new members as of late—a testament to Papa Terzo and his charming nature—but there were still too few students.

You make your way down to the second door on your right, the room where you had your demonology lesson earlier this morning. Darting in, you head to the back of the room and find your desk.

There’s no prayer book.

Another curse leaves your lips and your brow furrows in annoyance as you stare at the wooden desk, as if you could bring it into existence through pure frustration. You couldn’t ask for another one. You had already lost three. Sister Imperator said if you misplaced another one she’d have it nailed to your hand.

You were pretty sure she had been joking. Fairly certain. Most likely…

“Are you looking for this?”

Fuck. Turning, you find Cardinal Copia standing there in his neat black cassock with his gloved hands in front of him. And they were holding—

“My prayer book!”

Rushing towards him you go to take it gratefully but the man raises it above you, cocking his head to the side as he watches your face frown in confusion. Standing so close to him makes you realise how tall he actually is. It was customary to see him hunched over books in the archives, his desk, and or even the pulpit during mass—leering down at the congregation as he talked of sin and destruction. Most times you’d seen him, he was always scribbling away, taking his meticulous little notes. Not now though, right now he loomed over you.

“Can I have my book?” You hold out your hand expectantly.

“This may be a satanic church but you are still expected to have manners, Sorella.” He tuts at you, the look in those odd eyes gleeful. “You are meant to be saying, ‘please, Your Eminence’, si?”

“Can I please have my book, Your Eminence?” you say, trying to keep your voice respectful.

He smiles. Sort of. His lips quirk up at the sides but it makes him look slightly demonic. It makes your stomach flip. The book is placed in your outstretched hand.

“Good girl, was that so hard?” he says.

Okay, you were going to completely ignore how that made you feel. The man should not be allowed to make your skin prickle or have the power to make you flush with sudden arousal at a few words. What in the name of Lucifer was with this man? And why were you suddenly having very inappropriate thoughts about Copia. Copia?

What he did next surprised you more than anything else he’d done so far, he suddenly strikes out a gloved hand and lightly grips your throat just under your jaw. His thumb nestles below your ear. You must be staring up at him like a stunned idiot.

“Lucky your head is attached to your neck, eh?” He gives a light squeeze and looks at you with another one of those off-putting smiles. “Otherwise it would fall off and you would lose that too, Sorella.”

He chuckles as if he’s just heard a rather amusing joke and then sweeps out of the room without another word.

What. The. Fuck.

It’s a few days later when you find yourself back in the library. You’d been assisting Cardinal Giorgio with some archive work—well more that you’d been sneezing violently away surrounded by the thick layer of dust while he hastily moves any ancient texts out of your path. It was always interesting seeing some of the old texts, and you’d been so careful while leafing through them with your soft cotton gloves. But the dust was everywhere.

After a while, the hot stuffy room makes your skin begin to itch underneath your wimple. It wasn’t a requirement that you had to wear it, but most siblings did. The church only expected full dress during mass and special unholy days. It made you feel like part of a family wearing it, united with the other siblings in this strange world—besides, it saved having to figure out what to do with your hair every day.

You want to take it off but you just knew you’d misplace it. Begrudgingly you did have to admit that Copia had a point: you would forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.

Your fingers go to your neck at that thought and you idly touch the skin where he had held you the other day. It was strange. You’d never really given him much thought before, he was just The Cardinal. And it was completely warranting of the capital T. There were a few other cardinals that floated around the abbey, old men with their faded paints and tired faces. But Cardinal Copia didn’t float, he stalked through the building as if he owned it. He was Nihil’s right-hand man, yet he managed to keep to the fringes of the abbey and stay in those shadowy corners. He wasn’t frightening. Well, perhaps he was a little frightening. But more in an “if I do this wrong he’s going to embarrass me in front of everyone and then assign me some horrible back breaking task”. When other siblings grumbled under their breath about a cardinal, it was always Copia. Nobody wanted to get on his bad side, but it didn’t stop everyone from wishing him ill health at any chance they could and comparing him to the rats that he seemed to favour. You just found him utterly unfair, strict and so…dry. Like the books he always had his large nose buried in.

Admittedly for the past few days, you’d been thinking about that nose buried between your thighs.

Which was a horrifying thought. Admittedly, the man was attractive. You would sit there during lessons, idly admiring him, until he made everyone repeat all their prayers perfectly—in Latin!—before leaving class or, hell forbid, assigned homework. Any feelings of admiration would immediately evaporate. Homework? What were you, twelve? Sometimes being part of the Clergy felt like you were back in your snobby Catholic school but instead of Sister Lavinia making you repeat bible verses you were being bored to death by demons and debauchery. How was that even possible?

The man talked and talked and talked. His pleasing voice combined with your attention span like that of a goldfish just made you zone out. You had fallen asleep during mass once because it was some unholy day and Copia had spoken for nearly an hour. Sitting there in the dark church with the unholy candles lit, the incense burning and the echoing vibrations of his low voice, how could you not slide away into the glorious embrace of sleep?

Sometimes, it was clear Copia wasn’t going through the motions and was truly excited to teach—though, the rest of the class was clearly not interested and only listened out of fear of being reprimanded.

He was such a strange man.

“Sister?”

You glance up from the old tome you staring at unseeing for the last five minutes. Cardinal Giorgio is looking at you expectantly, his overgrown moustache and large eyebrows always made you feel like you were talking to a rather large muppet. Except Cardinal Giorgio was about as fun as a wet paper bag.

“Sorella, I am having a meeting. I will be returning in one hour.” He pointed a withered hand at a small stack of books. “Please be returning these.” You sneeze, knocking some empty ink wells to the ground, and he sighs wearily. “Carefully, per favore.”

He shuffled out of the room. Shouldn’t a satanic church be exciting? Yes, the ghouls were fun and there was the old magick with its ancient rites and rituals. But after a while it just became normal. Lessons were still lessons and church was still church. The most exciting thing that had happened recently had been Copia wrapping a hand around your neck.

Maybe you needed to get a pet. Or a hobby. You sigh and pick up the little stack of books and wander down the aisle. Perhaps if you happened to forget something again in one of Copia’s lessons he might touch you again. You were too busy daydreaming about what he’d do if you left your knickers in his classroom (probably nothing, you were certain he had no interest in anything unless it was in a book and involved a lot of suffering and sin) when you tripped over the uneven stone and went flying, the books in your hands dropping to the ground with a thud. Your hands fling out desperately as you try to grab anything to stop you from face planting onto the floor. Surrounded by shelves in the dim room, your fingers find the corner of a book, which shouldn’t have saved you yet somehow does. The book tilts forward, a click sounds out and you are left hanging from it as a bookshelf next to you swings open on well oiled hinges.

Now, that was interesting.

Righting yourself, you pry the shelf open further and peer into the small passage behind it. Cardinal Giorgio and your task forgotten, you step into it without a second thought. It's not very wide and there is little light so you keep your hands in front of you as you shuffle down. It isn’t very long until you see a small beam of light shining through a small gap in the stone and hear the sound of muffled voices.

Closing the distance, you peek through the small hole and can just make out the corner of a large table and someone’s head.

“Where is Papa?” someone asks.

“He will be late, as usual,” someone else mutters.

There is a snicker and then a reedy voice says, “I saw him talking to some belle ragazze earlier. He will be busy hearing their…confessions.”

There is the tittering of old men laughing and you roll your eyes.

“Si, si, si,” says a bored voice. You recognise that one immediately. It was Copia speaking. “We do not need Papa here to get to business. Besides as treasurer, I feel we must address his spending habits. He’s been wasting half of this church’s money on those ‘belle ragazze’.”

The reedy voice man laughs though it sounds more like a wheeze. “Jealous, Cardinale?”

“Pah.” Copia sniffs. “I am not jealous of Terzo Emeritus.”

The man wheezes again.

“Perhaps,” says Copia, his voice suddenly a menacing purr, “Father Mancini, you can tell me why there has been a—quite frankly—indecent amount of money spent on a certain blue pill?”

Now you could hear the reedy man, Father Mancini, spluttering. You try to get a better look but the view is incredibly limited. There were so many members of the clergy but you were pretty certain that Father Mancini was about as old as Papa Primo, maybe even Papa Nihil. You could picture him in your head with his vulture-like appearance and watery eyes.

“Copia—”

You hear Copia clear his throat pointedly.

“Cardinale,” corrects Father Mancini hurriedly in low whisper. “The brother in the hospital wing assured me it was confidential.” There was a snicker from another clergyman. “It’s for my health! He prescribed it!”

“Mmm.” You knew that low hum. For a moment you felt a wave of pity for Father Mancini, but not much. Copia’s needle-like venom was always fun when it was pointed at someone else. “You must know by now that I am all eyes and all ears, brother.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.”Were you hoping it would help you rise within the ranks? How long have you been a priest for now, Father?”

Strained laughter broke out after that and they resumed their bickering over the money that Papa Terzo had been spending. Wishing to explore further, you left the clergymen behind and followed the passageway along.

As you idly wandered through the tight passage, you couldn’t help but wonder about the lives of those that instructed and guided you and your many siblings. It was quite clear from the way they all spoke that none of the others liked Copia. But it was also evident that they had no choice in having to do as he said.

It was fascinating.

You keep walking, stopping every so often to peer through a gap in the stone. Most are hard to make out details through the tiny gaps but the last few had all looked like bedroom chambers and sitting rooms. You don’t even know how long you’ve been walking but you stop when you hear a shout and a loud knock. Ahead of you, a small beam of warm light is piercing through the passageway and you shuffle up to it.

“Torna qui!”

It’s Papa Terzo’s voice. You press your face against the cold stone and look through. From what you can see, you’re peering into a small sitting room. You could see a small settee and a large wingback chair in a deep red across from it, the corner of a worn-looking writing desk where a lamp sits and ahead in the distance a closed door. Perhaps it is Papa’s room but nothing in here screams Terzo Emeritus. It’s all dark wood and everything you can looks neatly organised—not something you would ever associate with dear Papa.

“Copia!”

Oh. Of course. The closed door ahead of you snaps open and Cardinal Copia stalks past, out of your field of vision. You hear a door click open and press closer to try and hear—but there is no need as Papa’s voice carries with ease toward you.

“You can’t restrict me!” he says.

“Si, I can,” you hear Copia reply in a bored voice. “I just did.”

“I am Papa, Copia, and you can’t be doing this things,” Terzo says.

“Andrai a lamentarti con tuo daddy come un ragazzino?”

A growl leaves Terzo’s throat. “Che cosa? No!”

It was utterly fascinating listening to them argue. Papa Terzo was always so smooth and charming when he spoke. He never raised his voice! And Copia was always so respectful when interacting with other clergymen. You’d never heard him speak so flippantly toward other members of the church before—and certainly not to a Papa.

“You can’t keep wasting this church’s money on women, Terzo,” says Copia irritably.

You can’t see the door from where you are, you can only see part of the cardinal and one of his gloved hands. The fingers flex, as if wanting to grab hold of something—and you have a feeling that something is Papa’s neck. You idly touch your own.

Papa snorts dismissively. “It is never a waste of money to lavish the beauties in this world, Cardinale.”

“You do not need to spend thousands of dollars on bottles of champagne.”

“But my tesoro is deserving the best!” says Terzo, his voice becoming angrier with each word he utters.

You’d never heard a Papa so angry before and while you can’t see Terzo right now, the sound of him is a little frightening. It was very easy to forget what he was capable of. But it’s clear Copia isn’t phased at all.

“Stop wasting money,” Copia snaps and then you see him come back into the room.

He comes closer toward you and your hiding spot but he keeps walking past until you can no longer see him. He must be close to the other side of the wall. You can hear him pouring a drink and you see Terzo stride into the room, his face set in a deep frown as his papal robes flap behind him.

“You’re just jealous I have those ready to kneel before me,” growls Terzo, coming to stand just in front of where you are hidden. “You wish you had them all kneeling before you!”

“Of course, they must kneel,” replies Copia smoothly. “How else are they to be eye to eye with you, Terzo?”

It’s impossible to tell with the paint but you’re certain that Papa’s face has gone red. The scowl on his face deepens and you hear him snarl.

“Vaffanculo! Sei uno stronzo, Copia!” Terzo throws his hands in the air and storms out. You hear the door slam shut but then there is a click as it opens again a second later. There are footsteps and you see Terzo angrily stride past and hear a rustling clink before he walks by again, now holding a bottle of wine in both hands. “You are not wanting me to be spending the money? I’m taking these!” The door opens. “Ciao!”

The door slams shut again.

“That little shit.” you hear Copia mutter. “Quando sarò Papa, gli farò ricucire la bocca…”

You press closer, trying to see further into the room. Copia comes back to where you can see him, his gloved fingers flexing as he mutters words you don’t understand under his breath. You nearly gasp when he walks right up to you and instinctively you hold your breath. He is merely a few inches from your face, and all you can see are the tiny neat buttons on his cassock and his jewelled grucifix as he peruses the wall you are hidden behind.

You hear a few squeaks in the distance and realise it must be Copia’s rats.

“Si, Rigatoni?” he says pleasantly. “I will feed you soon, piccolino mio.” He chuckles when another soft squeak fills the room. “Ah, you too, Fettuccine!”

The rustle of fabric as he moves and the gentle clink of his grucifix against those tiny buttons are oddly soothing. And this close you can smell him, the scent reminding you not of sleepy lessons in a warm classroom or echoing words of the unholy during midnight mass but instead of the delirious arousal imbued by a hand around your throat.

You suck in a breath. And Copia freezes. As quietly and as quickly as you can you duck down and cover your mouth with your hand, heart pounding in your chest. He must dismiss it and you hear him walk away, talking to his rats in Italian.

It is definitely time to leave, so you hurry back to the library hoping that Cardinal Giorgio hasn’t noticed your absence.

With luck, you made it back to the library archives and continue with your task, head still full of thoughts of Cardinal Copia. You want to explore more. The unending curiosity is making your skin itch. Not really thinking, you’d stolen a key to the archives when Cardinal Giorgio hadn’t been paying attention to you.

And it’s now that you sneak through the abbey’s silent halls on light footsteps until you are slipping back into the library. Making sure to close the door carefully, you then make your way to the back of the library where the depths of the archives lay. You unlock the large padlock before tucking the key back into the pocket of your habit, it clinks gently against your rosary beads as you step into the dark room. You flick on a small lamp and then make your way past the towering shelves to the little nook at the back, your eyes scanning the shelf as you approach.

Which one had it been? Your hands reach and tug at the worn corners until you finally have the secret passageway before you once more. Quickly you shuffle through, heart racing with anticipation. Why? You aren’t sure. Earlier today had been fairly boring—well, not completely. The little glimpse into the world of the higher clergy and their lives had been fascinating. The polite facade they projected to the siblings hid a boiling pot beneath.

As you finally reach the little gap in the stone that peers into Copia’s room, you let out the breath you had been holding. Face pressing against the stone, you drink in the details. The single oil lamp that sits on the old writing desk casts its warm glow over the room. You could hear the rats, Rigatoni and Fettucine, scurrying away on what must have been a little wheel in their cage. And then there was the rustling of pages and the occasional irritated grunt as Copia sat in the large wingback chair; one hand holding a pencil while the other balanced a book on a knee. He had a small side table next to him where he would scribble something down, brow furrowing in concentration as his lips moved soundlessly. You aren’t sure how long you watch him. There must be a clock on the wall you spied through as the gentle tick is close to your ear, the sound and vibration of it lulling you into something of a stupor.

With a heavy sigh, the man closes the book. The snap of it shutting makes you jump. His head glances in your direction and you hold your breath, hastily pulling your head back from the cold stone. But he merely stares a moment before he must dismiss you as nothing but the settling of old abbey walls. You shut your eyes in relief—Lucifer below you needed to be careful if you didn’t wish to be caught. Copia’s hands smooth his hair back and he stands, walking out of your sight. You hear him say something in a low voice, and with a smile, you realise he is once more speaking to his pet rats. The sound of answering happy squeaks and a cage door opening and closing signalled that it must be dinner time. You hear the cardinal laugh, a low pleased rumble that you had never heard before. It makes your stomach flip.

He walks past your hiding spot once more, heading towards the closed door. It opens and you can see a bed in the distance, the tension in your stomach tightens even further when you realise he’s undoing the buttons of his cassock, shrugging out of it before carefully folding it and leaving it on top of the bed. He wears a pair of suit pants underneath and a neatly pressed black button down. Your hands are either side of your face as you press up against the wall, trying desperately to get as close as possible. Those gloves that you’d been thinking of for the past few days join the cassock on the bed and you’re hypnotised as you watch him unbutton and then shrug out of the shirt. He has a white undershirt underneath, the sight of his bare throat and the dark hair that curls out from the underneath it has your mouth hanging open. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget that Cardinal Copia was merely a man and not just some looming entity that stalked the abbey halls and made your tongue trip over itself in an effort to not irritate him.

His hands rub at the nape of his neck while your eyes roam over the bare skin of his arms, shoulders and throat desperately—as if you were to be tested on the placement of every freckle and hair. But you are suddenly deprived of the vision when he moves further into the bedroom and then out of sight. Your ears strain to listen, and then above you a pipe clangs before the loud sloshing of water surging through comes hurtling above you. You can just hear the running sound of a shower in the distance and your mind is so busy imagining him naked and wet that you forget how uncomfortable and stuffy it is in the cramped passage.

When he finally emerges, your face flushes anew and you suck in a breath, your throat immediately filling with dust. You try to cough silently and clear your throat as Copia wanders back into the sitting room. You had never seen a member of the clergy without their paints. It was just like another part of their face. Seeing the cardinal without the darkened lips and hollowed eyes felt so strange and yet it sent a thrill down your spine; had anyone ever seen him like this? But it wasn’t just the bare face that held your attention, his wet hair that he’d slicked back was dripping down his naked chest and disappearing into the towel wrapped snugly around his hips.

Your nails were already digging into the stone as you watch him come closer to your hiding spot. He was once more a few inches away and you could see the droplets of water on his chest and smell what must have been his soap. How you want to reach out to him. Of course, you don’t—you can’t. You merely swallow back the delirium and try to keep your breathing even as you hear him move about. A clink of glass and then liquid sloshing before he walks away from you and slumps back into the armchair with a glass of wine in hand.

He sips at it, a sigh of pleasure escaping him as he relaxes in the chair. He takes a few more sips and you decide to call it a night but you pause when he places the half-drunk glass on his little side table and relaxes further into the chair with a moan. One of his hands reaches for the towel and you have to cover your mouth as he unties it and exposes himself completely.

You can’t look away as you watch him gently palm his cock, utterly entranced at the sight of it swelling beneath his languorous ministrations. Copia has his eyes shut and lips parted as he works himself with slow strokes. You really should leave. But nothing could have pried you away as his breathing starts to become uneven. The sight of his swollen head, precum already beading at the tip, has you licking your lips. How you want to be there on the floor between his legs, your hands gripping his thighs as you lick and suck along his cock. His hips snap erratically and you wonder if he would fuck your face with such abandon. Would he have the free hand that was currently gripping the armchair tightly around your throat? Or would he wind it tightly in your hair as he forced you to take more of him down your willing throat? That thought had one of your own hands reaching under your habit and hastily rubbing at your own sex as you watch.

“Cazzo!“ he growls, the sound sending a hot shock of arousal between your thighs. “Sei così bella in ginocchio per me come una brava sgualdrina.”

His hand was furiously working and before he can utter another word, he comes; the white ropes splattering over his stomach as he moans. The sight and sound of him losing control has you over the edge and you come hard and fast, legs shaking as you try to keep yourself upright.

You must have been too loud as he’s looking in your direction again, his brow furrowing. But he’s distracted when a knock on his door reverberates through the room.

“Pah!” He snatches the towel and strides toward the bedroom, your eyes glued to the sight of his naked body.

Another knock on the door.

“A moment!” Copia yells out.

After a moment, the man walks back out, hastily doing up the buttons of his cassock as he walks to the door. You hear it open and the demonic drawl of a ghoul speaking fills the room.

“Papa needs you urgently.”

“What in the name of Satanas does he need at this hour?” snaps Copia. “Tell me quickly, ghoul.”

A huff. “He just said it was urgent.”

Copia grumbles, striding back into the room and grabbing his biretta before the sound of the door shutting signals he’s left.

You try to collect yourself by taking a deep breath. Pushing off the wall, you go to leave but your fingers graze against something. A snick sounds out and suddenly the wall is moving and you’re falling forward as you are thrown off balance.

With a thud, you’re on the ground. Sitting on your knees, you rub at your elbow and look behind you to watch the wall swing around to reveal a bookshelf before it clicks shut. Your eyes dart to the door you can now see. But nobody comes running in.

You see the archives key has fallen out of your pocket, you grab it quickly and shove in back in. Really, you should probably leave. However…

Getting to your feet, your eyes soak in the details of the room. It smells like wood and incense here, reminding you of chapel. But the scents overlap with the leather from the books lining the wall you’d just fallen through and the scent of the man that has just left. You stare at the chair he has just vacated, and as you come closer you can see little teeth marks on the arm which makes you laugh.

A little squeak catches your attention and you wander over to an overly ornamental rat cage—well, rat palace. A furry face peers up at you and you smile.

“Your home is more decadent than the entire abbey!” you say to the little rat.

It just squeaks at you again before disappearing into its gilded home.

Really, you should be trying to open the passageway again and not heading into the cardinal’s bedroom. But it’s too late. You’re here, and you may as well take the chance to learn more about this illusive man. Most of the furnishings in this room are old, as if from another time. But everything has a worn quality to it; nothing in the cardinal’s rooms was for show.

When your eyes land on his bed and see his black leather gloves you pause. Staring at them for what feels like an eternity before you throw all reason out the door and pick one up.

Fuck. The leather is insanely soft on your fingers and the lingering warmth is there. You aren’t thinking when you place your hand in it and then wrap your own fingers around your neck. Was that insane? Perhaps. You hear someone shout something in the distance and you jump and stack it against the bedpost whacking your elbow in the process. Blinking back tears, you hastily taking the glove off and throw it back on the bed, only for it to fall to the floor. But there is no time to grab it and put it back. You run to the hidden passage, rubbing your arm and nearly stumbling again on a rug. When you reach the bookcase, you start pulling at books in a frenzy as your heart races. The door unlocks just as the wall opens and you slip in, scurrying none to gracefully down the narrow passageway and back to the library.

The next morning during chapel you realise you don’t have your rosary. It doesn’t occur to you that you might have lost it in Copia’s rooms. Losing things is just your usual state of being. So when chapel ends, you sigh and go walk up to the front where Papa Terzo stands talking to another sibling.

“Excuse me, Papa?” you say.

The man smiles at you and you try not to blush, but it’s impossible not to be affected by his charm. It’s hard to believe you’d seen him so angry and flustered the other day.

“You can interrupt anytime you are wishing, bella!” he says, spreading his arms wide so that his papal robes swish and catch the light from the many candles bathing the chamber.

You smile in response. “I need a new rosary, I lost mine,” you say sheepishly.

“Ah, these things are happening,” he says with an understanding nod. “I am always losing my er panties?” You hold back a laugh and so does the other sibling while he just frowns softly. “Though I am thinking this is not losing but the stealing…it is not matter.” Terzo points behind him. “You can get one from the Cardinale—he is in the vestry.”

The Cardinal. Your face falls and Terzo just pats you on the shoulder.

“Do not be worrying,” Papa says jovially, “he can help you, Sorella.”

On heavy feet you trudge to the vestry, knocking on the door before opening it. Copia is there, his hands busy with refilling the wine in the large silver decanter. He glances up at you with a scowl.

“Terzo, I said—” He stops, frown fading away to be replaced by a raised brow. “Yes, Sorella?”

You stand in the door and hesitate. All you can think about is his cock and the noises he had made last night. Your whole body flushes.

He snaps a finger at you. “Sorella, I am busy, what is it?”

You stumble. “I—um. I need a rosary. I lost mine. Papa said you can give me a new one.”

His whole demeanour changes, going from irritated disdain to a strangely gleeful smile. He puts the wine down with a deliberate thunk and rummages in a small chest, pulling out a set of rosary beads.

“Come in, please, dolce.”

You walk toward him and stand there awkwardly. The vestry is strong with the smell of old relics of silver and brass, and the heady incense that is always burning in the unholy rooms of the abbey. But in the midst of it all, there is him. That magnetic and tempting scent that you had basked in while in his rooms.

“Closer, per favore.”

You take another step and he instructs you to put your hands out, palms facing up so that the necklace can lie against them—the silver grucifix heavy on one palm. He briefly turns away to grab a small bottle of unholy water.

“Keep still.” He uncorks it. “They need to be blessed.”

You just nod, staring at the small purple beads as he sprinkles some of the water over them. It splashes against your hands and wrists, goosebumps breaking out against your skin.

“Alvengeful Lucifer,” says Copia in a low voice, “we seek out your divine grace and ask that you offer your unholy blessing to this rosary which the Church has sanctioned for the honour and praise of the Most Unholy of Lords.”

One of his gloved hands reaches out and presses the grucifx into your palm with his thumb, his other fingers curling around your hand. You are not thinking about his hands anywhere else, not at all. You are not going to think about it. He presses harder as he continues to speak. You surreptitiously try and squeeze your thighs together.

It feels too hot in the small vestry. And he is too close—yet somehow not close enough. It was torture.

“Let it be filled with such power of your unholy spirit,” Copia continues to speak, low voice wrapping around you, ”that whoever carries this on her person or devoutly recites it may be protected by you.”

You swear you feel his fingers move against your hand in a gentle caress but he removes it before you can focus on it. It’s an effort to keep your breathing normal but you try as Copia continues with the blessing.

“Let her share in all the glories, indulgences and pleasures granted by the darkness that you offer in comfort.” He sprinkles more of the water onto the beads before he utters a final, “Nema.”

“Nema,” you repeat softly, still staring at your hands and the beads upon them.

Before you can move, Copia snatches the beads and places them over your head. The leather of his gloves grazes against your throat as he carefully drapes them over the collar of your habit. It forces you to look up at him, those odd eyes watching you far too intently with that little smile still playing around his mouth.

“Make sure you don’t lose these,” he says, fingers trailing down the length of the beads before he suddenly wraps it around two fingers and tugs you forward.

You can’t speak, he’s brought you several steps closer to him. His scent envelops you and you can feel the hem of his cassock against your shins. Any words you would’ve tried to speak are stuck in your throat.

“You wouldn’t want to find yourself lost without a prayer.” He tugs on the rosary again which brings you even closer—you were nearly pressed up against him. His face was hovering right in front of yours. This close you could see his one white eye was more of an eerily bright blue. “Would you, Sorella?”

You shake your head dumbly as you unstick your tongue, heart pounding in your chest. “No, Your Eminence.”

He lets go and you suck in a shuddering breath, stumbling back as you try to regain your footing. You can still feel the way the beads had been digging into your neck.

Copia chuckles. “Bene, bene!” He prods your shoulder. “Off you go, Sorella.”

You give it three days before you head back to the little secret passage. Last time had been far too close, but the desire to see the cardinal—possibly even see him come undone again was far too tempting. Today during your lesson, you hadn’t been able to remove your gaze from his hands. Your eyes fixed on watching him gesture as he explained all about the proper way to summon a lesser demon. You hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. The entire lesson had been spent thinking of those hands, imagining them over your skin. How would the leather feel running softly against you? Would he be gentle? Or rough? The throb between your legs had you on edge the entire hour until the shifting of your fellow siblings signalled the end of class.

When you had grabbed your prayer book and shuffled out of the room, you had turned to look back at your desk to make sure you hadn’t left anything and simply been met with Copia’s mismatched stare. The shiver that had run down your spine had you hurriedly leaving and walking as fast as you could toward the greenhouse.

Lying in your bed, your mind had been full. Tossing and turning, all you could think of was Copia’s hand around your neck or the immense heat of him when he’d pulled you close the other day in the vestry. The man was haunting your thoughts just like the abbey halls. So, you’d thrown back the sheets and snuck off back to the archives.

Tonight, he’s again sitting in his wingback chair. In his red cassock, he looks like the Lord below. He rarely wore the red, instead opting for the black. But you preferred it—mostly because it was easier for you to spot him. Lurking in the shadows in all black had Copia sneaking up on unsuspecting siblings with ease far too often.

He scribbles notes down occasionally, pen scratching and tongue clicking whenever he crosses something out. You stand there for what feels like forever, your eyes getting heavy as you lean against the cold stone wall. It is cooler tonight, but the passageway is clammy, the air thick and making your habit stick to your skin. Maybe you can come back tomorrow night. Or maybe this was just fucking madness. You were spying on Cardinal Copia—of all people! You sigh.

Copia’s eyes snap toward you, meeting your gaze. There is no way he can see you; the gap is too small and you know you're hidden behind books. There is no way in heaven that the old man can see you! Luck must be on your side because he shakes his head and just stands up, wandering over in the direction of his rats.

“Sento il nostro topolina nei muri, Rigatoni,” you hear him say. “Hmm. Un topolina che evidentemente non capisce una parola di quello che dico.”

There are some happy squeaks as the cage is opened and then closed. You strain to listen however there is nothing but the clock ticking rhythmically by your ear and some more soft little squeaks. You press closer.

Maybe you press too hard or accidentally knock the little lever, but suddenly you’re falling; a scream of surprise leaving your throat as the wall moves beneath you. It sends you out of the cramped passage and has you toppling onto the soft carpet. You suck in a quick breath through your nose, those strangely familiar scents assaulting your senses. You glance up and see Copia standing by the bookshelf as it slides back into place with a click of finality. He has a gloved hand on the nondescript book that triggers the passage and the other taps his chin thoughtfully.

While you do realise you are in Big Trouble with The Cardinal, you can’t help but stare at his leather-clad fingers as they rest on his chin. You needed to get a grip.

“Ah, it was a lost little mouse,” he says with satisfaction, eyebrow raised as he regards you.

Fuck. As soon as he speaks you realise you’re absolutely fucked. There was no safety of the passageway between you, and no next lesson to scurry away to. You had fallen into the spider’s parlour, very much uninvited.

He lets go of the book and it slowly slots back into place. You stare at him, mind racing as you try to come up with some sort of explanation. You’ve been sleepwalking? You’ve been possessed? You’ve gone insane? Actually, you were pretty sure you had gone slightly insane and—

“Good evening, Sorella.”

You blink at him owlishly as your thoughts fizzle away into nothingness.

“Er…” You try to clear your throat. “Good evening, Cardinal.”

The reality of where you were and who you were with is starting to seep in. Your breath hitches. In theory, it really should be so much easier to breathe in this room than the little passageway but it’s not. You’ve been caught in a clergyman’s room—spying on him nonetheless—in the middle of the night. And out of all the priests and bishops and all the other members in this abbey…you were with The Cardinal.

It simply would be a better time all-round if you’d just snuck into a cage with a starving tiger. At least it would be over quickly.

Hurriedly you get to your feet and your mouth loosens—never good.

“Your Eminence!” you squeak. Lord below, you sound insane. But the panic is taking over. “I’m so sorry, I was just exploring. Cardinal Giorgio is always talking about the abbey and the history of it all and working in the archives is so interesting, you know? And, um, I found this passageway tonight—yes, tonight—and so I had to learn more. And I was reading books…yes books! There are so many books, do you like books? It’s just so fascinating how the walls—“

“Sister.”

“—and I think I was just so caught up in the history so I was walking in my—” You stop talking. “Yes?”

“Don’t lie to me, you’re about as interested in this building as I am in ornithology.”

That takes some of the panic away as you frown at him “What’s ornithology?” Oh, Lucifer was that some kind of ancient magick? Did he talk about it today? You should have paid attention!

The man gives an exasperated sigh. “It doesn’t matter.” That mismatched stare eyes you carefully, his moustache twitching as his lips quirk. “You’ve been spying on me, topolina.”

“No!” you say desperately, hands rising rapidly as if worried he was going to bite you.

He takes a few steps toward you, entering your personal space and making you freeze. Lucifer, he smells good. Focus! You stare up at him, looking like a lost idiot as your brain tries to think of a way to escape.

“Do you still have your rosary?” asks the cardinal.

That throws you off. You frown and then rummage in your pocket, fishing the beads out and holding them up to show him.

“Yes?”

He tuts. “‘Yes, Your Eminence.’”

“Yes, Your Eminence,” you repeat dutifully, still staring at him wide-eyed as your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

“Good girl.” He grins. “You’ll at least have a prayer, if nothing else, dolce.”

What in Satan’s name did he—

You cannot finish the thought as he snatches your wrist and drags you further into his room. Your feet trip over his fancy rug and you stumble, nearly colliding with him but he holds your arm in a steady grip. He swings you around to face him and you hold your breath as he looms above you.

The look on his face is hard to read but there is hunger in his hypnotic eyes. Oh fuck, what if he actually was a vampire like some of the other siblings said? Maybe you were going to be eaten.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask. You want to sound brave. You don’t.

“Me?” he says, prodding you back, the back of your legs hitting his armchair, causing you to fumble and fall into it with a soft thump. “I am not going to do a thing to you, dolce.”

Your bewildered gaze follows him as he sits across from you on the low settee. The race of your heart in your chest has you trying to take a breath to calm yourself. No matter what he says, you knew he was going to punish you. It was Copia after all. And you’d been caught. In his room. Spying. The tension was driving you insane. Your stomach was in knots. Whatever he does you hope it’s quick.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he places his chin on his clasped hands. The leather creaks in the heavy silence and you do your best to not look at them, trying to just focus on a point by his ear. Now was not the time for horny thoughts.

“It is a little unfair that you have been spying on your cardinal, don’t you think?” he says pleasantly.

“Um, yes?” you say, shifting awkwardly in the seat.

An eyebrow raises in question. “You don’t seem so sure, Sorella.” He taps his chin thoughtfully on his hands. “I would think it isn’t very polite to spy on someone…especially when they are having a—” He leans back and waves a hand, your eyes following it somewhat hypnotised. “—private moment.”

Oh. Oh no.

Fuck.

Your cheeks burn. He knew. How? How did he know?

“I—”

He wiggles a finger at you. “Now, Sister, don’t try and lie again.”

It’s strange you think. Despite your embarrassment and utter dread, he doesn’t seem angry, or upset. He rummages in the depths of his crimson cassock and pulls something out.

It’s a rosary. Yours, to be precise. Oh no.

He smiles when he sees understanding bloom on your face.

“It isn’t very nice of you to spy on me and then snoop in my absence, dolce.” He swings the rosary idly, still speaking to you as if you were a naughty child. “It also isn’t very nice to go through my things.”

“I didn’t touch your things, Cardinal!” you blurt out.

His head cocks to the side and he pockets the rosary.

“Ah, but you did, dolce.” With quick movements, he tugs off a glove and throws it at you. You catch it and stare at him. “You seem rather enamoured with these.”

Was it possible to die of embarrassment? You hope so, you really do.

“Put it on,” he says.

You stare at him dumbfounded. The leather still feels warm in your hands and it is just as soft as you remember it being. Maybe you’d fallen asleep in the passageway and this was all some weird dream.

You swallow. “Why?”

“‘Why, Your Eminence’,” he says, a sly grin unfurling on his face. “I said, I am not going to do anything. You are going to do it for me. It seems only fair.”

The room is silent as you just sit there fiddling with the glove.

“Do it now, Sister.” Copia’s voice is sharp and it sends a jolt down your spine. You quickly put the glove on. “Brava ragazza. Lift up your habit.”

You manage to only let out a shocked squeak at that, your heart racing.

He grins at you like a tiger. “You heard me. It’s only fair, dolce. You’ve been watching me. It is my turn. Quid pro quo.” Your confused expression has him waving the hand still wearing the other glove. “Maybe should join my Latin class and learn something. I am sure that mouth of yours can handle it.” He gestures at the glove you now wear. “Besides, this way, you can just pretend it is me, si?”

You bristle at that. While you so desperately want him to touch you, he had no right whatsoever to know that! But then again, you had no right to spy on him.

“Why would I want to do that?” you say, though there is little conviction behind the words.

The man doesn’t say a word, he just watches you with that infuriating all-knowing look on his face. You sigh and lift up the hem of your habit until it’s on your knees.

“Higher.”

You lift it a little higher, exposing your legs as it bunches around the top of your thigh.

“Higher.”

Your eyes are fixed on the rug beneath your feet as you grip the fabric tightly and pull it all the way back, exposing your knickers. What were you even wearing today? You sneak a glance—black lace. Well, at least it wasn’t the frilly white pair with little cats on it. You really should throw those out.

You’re snapped out of your lingerie musings when Copia speaks again.

“Now, remove your underwear,” he commands.

It’s like he’s merely giving instructions in class. But a part of you is so used to obeying that voice that you simply do it without thinking. The hand wearing his glove touches your skin and you shiver; how you really wish it was him doing this but you ignore it and try to remove the garment as gracefully as possible. You hear a pleased hum from him when they hit the floor.

“Spread your legs for me.”

You didn’t think you’d be able to sit there with your thighs pressed together as they are now. With a tight grip on the fabric of your habit bunched around your waist, you lean back a little—body still tense—and part your legs slightly. The feel of his eyes on you makes your skin prickle as you stare at his shoes. You know you are already wet, you can feel it. Fuck, you can smell yourself.

“Now, now, dolce,” he chides. “You can do better than that. Wider.”

With a shuddering breath, you let your legs fall completely open. Now you’re completely exposed before him, pussy glistening in the lamplight. The arousal is seeping through you, you’re humiliated that you’re sitting there with your habit around your waist and your legs spread wide. But there’s an undeniable thrill at being like this before Cardinal Copia, having him tell you what to do and hearing his little hum of approval when you do as he pleases.

“Look at me,” he commands and your eyes flick up to his face. The way he regards you makes your body flush; your body tense and cunt aching.

“Touch yourself—lightly—with the leather,” he says in a low voice, those strange eyes boring into yours.

For some reason, you can’t look away, your cheeks are red—of that you’re certain—but you can’t put it all down to embarrassment. It’s the way he watches you as your gloved hand lets go of the grip on your habit and drifts between your legs. The intense stare only seems to fuel you, making your skin sing when your leather-clad fingers graze against your wet folds. You suck in a breath through your clenched teeth and drag your fingers through your slit to then lightly circle your clit.

You’re aware you’re breathing heavily, but the feel of soft leather and Copia’s deep gaze has you aching. It’s like he is touching you, though he sits a few feet away.

“Does that feel good, dolce?” he asks. His tone has shifted, the deep rumble vibrating through you and settings your nerves on fire. “I imagine it must, you’re soaking already—I can see from here”

It’s an effort to keep your touch light but your body is already begging for more and so you try and press a little harder. A moan tumble from your lips as you greedily take what your body gives, though it demands so much more. Muscles tensing as your fingers work the bud of your sex, you can feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. It feels too damn good as the friction feeds your ravenous excitement.

“Keep your eyes open, Sorella.”

You hadn’t even realised you’d closed them, and when you open them you let out another moan. The man has lifted the heavy fabric of his cassock so you can see the tight pants he wears—they’ve been undone so his cock juts out as he lazily pumps it with his still gloved hand.

“Brava,” he says, a smirk on his face at your half-lidded expression. “Now, be a good girl and slide those wet fingers into your pretty pussy for me.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you obey him, letting the leather glide through your slit before you sink a finger in. The feeling is deliriously satisfying after the light teasing and you sink a second finger in, your palm grinding against your clit.

“Guarda la tua piccola fica bisognosa,” he purrs. “Do you need more, dolce?”

You nod. You can barely think right now. The leather feels exquisite, you truly feel like it is his hand though your hand is nowhere large enough. But it’s enough to make your heart race even further and cause the lust to rage. How you wish it was his fingers! But he is in front of you, the sight of him touching himself and that stare aimed at you making you whimper as your fingers dance within you.

“You have a tongue, dolce, use it.”

Fuck, how you wish he would let you use it; all you want is to lick his cock. You just know if told you to crawl to him, you would. Instead, you pant out a barely discernible, “yes,” as your thumb gently circles your clit.

“Ah?”

“Yes,” you hiss out, “Your Eminence.”

“Good girl.”

Fuck! Those low words of praise are far too addictive and they make the tension low in your stomach tighten in delightful anticipation. You spread your legs even further, desperate for more as you thrust your fingers within your soaking cunt. You want to close your eyes, to relish in the feel of the leather sliding against your flesh. But you can’t. His cock is leaking as he continues to slowly stroke—you can’t help but marvel at his control. You’re too needy, too desperate. Your movements aren’t controlled but greedy. There is no embarrassment or shame anymore, just the franticness that comes with being lost to chasing that pleasurable high. You know you are close, it feels as if you’ve been on edge ever since that day back in the classroom when he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“You can’t come until I say, Sorella,” he says.

A needy whimper trembles through you and your fingers continue to work, chest rising and falling rapidly with each panted breath you take. Copia never wavers as he watches you, though you can see his pupils are blown wide. He is so hard and you are so desperate for more than fingers—desperate for him.

“Cardinal.” If you weren’t so insanely overcome you’d be embarrassed at how pathetic his title sounded falling from your lips. But you are way past that. “Please!”

You’re impressed you can even utter a word, let alone two, as you try to keep the orgasm at bay.

“What is it, topolina?” he asks, the sound of his voice wrapping around you. It simultaneously relaxes and strengthens the tension within your body.

You can’t utter another word, instead, more whimpers and moans leave your mouth as you grind yourself down on your hand.

“Do you want my cock?” His words make you shiver. Fuck. Yes, you do. You watch the head disappear into his fist as he gives it a slow stroke. “Hmm? Tell me.”

Your head just nods as you arch your back, shoulder blades digging into the leather back of the chair making the fabric of your habit cling to your sweat covered skin.

He shakes his head in response, a small chuckle vibrating around the room as he does. “You have to use your words, remember?”

“Yes, Your Eminence,” you manage to say.

“Good, but no, tell me.”

Release is so close, your fingers are stroking that sensitive spot within you while your palm presses against your clit. You need to come. It’s so close. You want him so badly.

“I want your cock, Your Eminence!” You nearly yell it out, a whimpering plea that only makes him grin.

“Bene.” He stops his own ministrations and pats his knee. “Come here, then.”

You fly out of the chair and scramble into his lap, knees sliding either side of his thighs. The heat and scent of him assaulting all your senses as he pulls you into him, your hands grasping at his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The thick fabric of his cassock is soft under your hands and all you want is to bury into him. But Copia snatches the wrist of the hand wearing his glove, his mouth engulfing a finger as your pussy slides against the length of his cock. The look in those hooded eyes makes your skin prickle. You grind down against him as you watch his mouth and tongue lick your essence from the leather. His teeth then graze against your finger before he removes it from his mouth.

“How sweet you are, Sorella,” he murmurs, tugging the glove off, along with the one he still wears, and throwing them to the side.

Copia grabs your hips quickly, lifting you up so he can then bring you sinking down onto his cock. The sob that leaves you has you nearly screaming with pleasure. The stretch and fullness have you in a state of rapture as you take him completely. But then he doesn’t move—your eyes lock with his and he merely gives you that familiar smug smile.

“You need to move, dolce,” he whispers. “Sii una brava sgualdrina e cavalca il tuo cardinale.”

You don’t need to be told twice, your hands greedily grip his shoulders as you let your hips undulate above him. It’s too much and your eyes slip shut as you let the feel of him filling you take over, the tension building all over again. The wetness between your legs is obscene, making it far too easy to move as fast as you can while desperately chasing release. You feel him twitch within you, and then fingers are wrapped around your throat. That makes your eyes fly open, his face is so close to yours that you can see that the paint around his eyes and on his top lip has started to smudge with sweat. His hair, always so tidy is starting to fall into his eyes. Cardinal Copia was always so neat but now, he looked so unkempt—it makes you ache even more. Those fingers he has around your neck squeeze and a wave of ecstasy surges through your body, your cunt clenching around his cock.

Copia grips your hip with his other hand, fingers surely bruising, as he holds you down against him before he thrusts up. It makes your head spin.

“You said you wanted my cock in that needy cunt of yours, dolce,” he growls, pulling you closer. His breath skitters against your cheek. “You should hold on.”

You have half a second to readjust the grip on his shoulders before he is thrusting into you at a fast pace, somehow hitting even deeper than before. You cry out, overwhelmed by the scent and feel of him. Everything is just the cardinal and the agonising desire he is building within you. The hand on your neck lets go and you suck in a breath.

“Come for me,” he commands.

You can’t disobey. The tension within you finally snaps at those words and you break apart around him, waves of unrelenting pleasure hitting you. You ride out the orgasm with him—his growled words in Italian against your ear as his cock swells and kicks within you. He doesn’t stop as he comes, still pumping up into you as you twitch above him and wrench everything he has to give.

When he finally slows, you slump against him. Your body tingles and your chest heaves as you suck in breath after breath. Copia’s arms are around you, holding you close as your face presses into the fabric of his cassock. When your breathing finally evens out, you slip from his lap on shaky legs. You go to pick up your knickers but he moves fast, snatching them off the ground. He looms over you once more, moustache twitching in amusement as you glare at him.

“I will hold onto these,” he says as you watch the black lace disappear into the depths of his cassock. He smoothes his hair back. “You can collect them after class tomorrow, dolce. Perhaps you will also consider joining my Latin class, hmm? It seems you can follow instructions well enough, perhaps we can put that tongue of yours to proper use.”

“Perhaps.” You adjust your habit. “Your Eminence.”

PART TWO the title is taken from the instrumental track "Freshly Squeezed" by Angelo Badalamenti from the Twin Peaks soundtrack! it sets the tone of the start of the fic when she first goes into the passageway.

thank you to Sucharide for beta-ing - any other errors are my own.

Torna qui! - Come back here!

Andrai a lamentarti con tuo daddy come un ragazzino? - Are you going to complain to your daddy like a little boy?

Che cosa? No! - What? No!

Piccolino mio - my little one

Topolina - little mouse

Vaffanculo! Sei uno stronzo, Copia! - Fuck you! You’re an arsehole, Copia!

Quando sarò Papa, gli farò ricucire la bocca… - When I’m Papa, I’ll have his mouth sewn shut…

Sei così bella in ginocchio per me come una brava sgualdrina - You're so beautiful on your knees for me like a good slut

Sento il nostro topolina nei muri, Rigatoni. Hmm. Un topolina che evidentemente non capisce una parola di quello che dico - I hear our little mouse in the walls, Rigatoni. Hmm. A little mouse who obviously doesn't understand a word I'm saying

Guarda la tua piccola fica bisognosa - Look at your needy little cunt

Sii una brava sgualdrina e cavalca il tuo cardinale - Be a good slut and ride your cardinal

[pininghermit]

Hiiiii! I love your writing so far and I’m so excited to have found another sub Alucard blog, you have no idea! Could I be able to request a soulmate AU with Alucard? What do you have in mind? 👀

Wait Worth an Eternity (Alucard x Reader)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Summary: to the world, the Tagar are a legend or a figment of the past long gone. None in the world have seen or heard of them for ages. None who speak of them, anyway.

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: hey thanks for requesting this awesome fic. I loved writing this and I may have gone a little over board. I hope you like it and look out for a part 2 if you do like it.

"Leave," you whisper into the air, and the darkness behind you vanishes into the nothingness of the night. Yet two remain next to you, lingering as their forms evaporate.

"Are you sure about this?" your brother whispers as his hand reaches to touch your shoulder. The black mist of his vanishing form engulfs both his hand and your shoulder from the barest contact.

"Allow us to wait here for you," your second brother adds as the night remains quiet as ever. "Come on, are you going to ignore us? We came here for emotional support." The swirling darkness continues to surround you with dramatically offended expressions on their concealed faces.

A looming castle stands in front of you, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if it was a wise choice to walk into something you avoided for so long.

You take in the rotting corpses speared in front of the castle doors that lay carelessly ajar. "Visibly welcoming," Aes, your brother, mutters under his breath. "Leave," you repeat, hoping for your brothers to listen to you for once.

You had to do this yourself. No amount of cowardice would stop you from it anymore. "Alright, we will leave for now, but if there is even an iota of doubt or danger, call for us." Maer, next to Aes, turns to you with his form materializing as he offers you his hand.

"I promise," you take your brother's hand and put all your conviction into your expression. Soon both your brothers leave you alone in the company of Castle Dracula and Belmont library.

The past filters into your conscience as your steps lead you to the withering doors of the unkempt castle.

The Tagar are an ancient race, long gone from the face of the world that monsters, humans, and in-betweens live in. They are people of old who came to life with the first breath of the world.

Many legends of the world speak of them as gods of old. Some call them creatures alike to the fea, for they were winged. Well, some of them were.

But none that live now know what they were. For words did not exist when they did. A race from a time so long ago did not speak similar languages as the current ones who freely roam the world do.

To the world, the Tagar are a legend or a figment of the past long gone. None in the world have seen or heard of them for ages. None who speak of them, anyway.

You are part of the Tagar, a legend from long ago. You have lived through ages of the world forming and deforming itself. In doing so, you watched your people build the society and then leave it for the solitude of peace.

The Tagar held the wisdom of age. With the addition of new races into the world, the oldest saw it as the time for their retreat. They held little love for conquering or coveting what they had built with so much love.

In those long years, you too had been a part of the ones who moved into the veiled world with the oldest of the world resided. Maybe the years had left you with much weariness that you need nothing more than peaceful existence besides your family.

You lived concealed in your mountains, valleys, and plains that the other races held no knowledge of. The world protected its oldest in those hidden places. Away from the newer races of its being.

It was in those uneventful hours of peace that you felt it. A tug. The world that your kind left so long ago called for you again. With a renewed urgency, you found yourself being led to the borders of the ancient magic that kept the Tagar hidden.

That day when you barely held yourself from exposing the existence of your kind, you dreamt of the bond that left you restless the entire day. Flashes of gold, silver, and black filled your vision. Swords, books, and coffins were the figments that revealed themselves as time progressed. Pain, anguish, and grief followed as the years went by. That is how you got to know Adrian, son of Count Dracula and a human healer.

You resisted every pull, every urge. The soulmate your elders spoke of had to wait. You would not burden him with your infinite eternity. You would give him decades free of the bond. He should have every right to be his person before he gets to be yours.

You waited for his quest as a savior to end. You waited for him to experience the world he saved, and witnessed him being chained to the land of his trauma. At that moment, you had wanted nothing more than to rescue him from the loneliness and sorrow of his own thoughts.

But your steps faltered when you saw them: Sumi and Taka. Ignoring the searing bindings of your bond, you stepped back as you observed the happiness that Alucard found next to the other two who entered his life. They were younger, more a part of the world that Adrian lived in. You forced your consciousness to move away from your fated, who remained unaware of your bond.

You slept little to avoid the dreams that would not stop torturing you with visions of him. You dared not look at the sun that shone with the color of his hair or the moon that seemed to reflect his eyes.

The Tagar loved intensely. Most loved once in eternity, and very few of them were granted a fated one. Maybe that is why you felt the bond before Adrian did. You felt it separated by worlds and veils of ancient magic.

You were lost in the motions of forgetting the incomplete fragments of your bond when you felt it—the fleeting end of the other end of the bond. The tug that reminded you of the world foreign to you felt lighter than ever.

That night, you dared to let your dreams guide you into the bond you ignored for long. You found yourself in the unlit halls of Castle Dracula, trashed furniture and floor adorned with broken glass, torn curtains, and rotting food. Among all the ruin lay your mate, Adrian. He lay there alone, bleeding from wounds you could not find with the fleeting form of your dream self.

The world you had wanted to give him by your absence no longer mattered. It wouldn't matter if he faded into the nothingness of grief and betrayal. Only oblivion greeted the ones who turned their backs on the world. You knew it better than any, and you could not fathom that end for him.

So after millennia of hiding, the first of the Tagar ventured into the world that forgot them. You came with your brothers and others who vehemently insisted on escorting you.

Now as you walk the path your soulmate once walked, your heart beats louder than ever. For a moment, you suspect a flying sword to rush your way with how loud your heart beats. Your steps remain sure. And from the periphery of your vision, you observe two rotting corpses that catch your attention. You do not turn to look at them, but a layer of black surrounds them as you move past them. There remains a mystery as all proof of their existence leaves the face of the world. The Tagar, after all, remain most mysterious in their ways.

The huge wooden doors to the castle do not creak as you expect them to, remaining functional as ever despite their age. You walk through silent and dark corridors that you remember but still remain unfamiliar to you. Scouring your memory, you look for clues that could lead you to Adrian.

It is then that you smell it - a cloying stench of death and decay, similar to the one that permeated the graveyard in front of the castle. Death, despite being foreign to the Tagar, remained the most familiar to your fate. It was one of the very first things you felt at the beginning of your visions, a death that reeked of fear, restlessness, but also of peace and relief.

Your anxiety increases with every passing second as you wander through the unknown halls. Rushing through unfamiliar paths of Dracula's castle, you pray to the forgotten gods of the Tagar, hoping that Adrian is still alive.

"Let him not be dead," you plead to anyone who dares listen to you. Not even the wisest of Tagar know of the fate beyond death - it is a truth known only to those who experience it. And you, for once, do not wish for your mate to find that truth.

"Adrian," you allow his name to fall from your lips. For the first time, it is uttered in the world without an ounce of doubt.

"Adrian," a name he does not remember, yet it never before felt more fitting than when he hears it from the echoing recesses of his mind. A voice he does not know, yet a voice he cannot let go.

After months of feeling a lifeless void, Adrian feels the beat of his heart. He feels something snap into place - a scary feeling for someone whose life lay in shambles. He is drunk out of his mind, and his vision remains shaky at best, but even then, he forgets to breathe the first time he lays his eyes on you.

You walk through the halls of his home with feather-light steps. Even in the dark, moonless night, you shine with a light he has never seen before, a glow that seems to mimic ancient stars. You remain put together in your haste, not even a single strand of your hair moves from its place.

"Adrian," you call his name again, and Adrian yearns to answer back. He aches to reply and answer to every call, but his words fail him. He notices your wings tucked behind your back - black like the endless void, yet even tucked away, your wings are majestic. Feathers that look soft at the very sight line your wings. Without a word exchanged between you and him, he knows the long ages you have spent before him.

Past, present, or future, you give him everything without him ever asking. He finds the ease of this fate to be unbelievable. Has it always been this easy? Were you always this close?

With the ease that rivers meet oceans, Adrian finds his head on your lap. Your worried gaze on him, your hands thread through his hair, and he does not suppress the shudder that runs through his entire body. He feels the warmth of your feathers on his cheek. 

You have waited so long, for ages, for this. At that moment, he feels the weight of ages spent waiting for someone, the weariness of a lonely forever. You have loved him without any expectation of reciprocation, and Adrian feels wronged on your part. How did you not think of yourself? Why did you not come and claim him? He would have left; he would have let go of the world if that is what needed to be done for you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat and Adrian finds it hard to stop you. His limbs feel heavier than ever. 'Not your fault,' he wants to tell you. His soul screams at him to comfort his fated, who is now sobbing next to him.

He wills his hand to wipe the tears lining your face. 'Don't,' he tries to say but his throat dries up at the sight of you. You hold his hand in yours as you interlace your fingers.

[popcorn-plots]

Very long Doctor Strange ramblings below the cut. You have been warned. If you read all of it, feel free to give me your opinion, I am way too invested in this help

In She-Hulk, we see that Wong worked as a librarian at Kamar-Taj for 11 years. In the beginning of Doctor Strange, the first few scenes show Kaecilius and his Zealots stealing pages from the Book of Cagliostro and beheading the current librarian.

When Strange first meets Wong, Wong claims that the former librarian was relieved of his head, and he implemented the rules he now enforces (no portals inside the library, etc.). However, we do not know how long Wong has held the librarian position. If we consider that there is not much Kamar-Taj life shown in the movie, it suggests that no one has forgotten the rules or made mistakes regarding them. This implies that Wong's rules have been around long enough for people to understand and remember them (or at least Wong has been enforcing them consistently). The rules have been in place for a while, and people are not surprised by the missing pages.

Additionally, Kaecilius' betrayal does not seem to be a major issue during Stephen's training, as if it had happened a while ago and Kamar-Taj was biding its time, attempting to hunt him down or waiting for him to make a move. Of course, a rogue sorcerer with that much power is a concern for the Ancient One and Mordo --as seen in the movie-- but Stephen, being a novice/apprentice, is probably not told much.

So, how long has Wong been running the library by himself? It doesn't seem plausible that the gap between Kaecilius' betrayal and Stephen's arrival is 11 years. The entire movie happens over a period of at least a year and a half, maybe even two years. The movie is set from 2015-16, so Wong would have had to take up the position somewhere between 2004-5. If we take Benedict Wong's age and assume that is how old Wong is (as we do with Stephen's age), then he would be 44 in 2016 (Stephen would be 39), making him 33 in 2005. So, was Wong working with the previous librarian for 11 years, and Kaecilius betrayed the Order within a year of Stephen's arrival? Or did Kaecilius steal the pages 11 years prior to Stephen's arrival, right at the beginning of Wong's career?

Not to mention the amount of time it would take for Stephen to recover from the initial accident and the numerous subsequent surgeries, plus the physical therapy and the time it took Stephen to find Kamar-Taj.

The recovery time for hand surgeries is 6 weeks on average. With Stephen having a total of 8 surgeries, his recovery time would be, on average, 48 weeks of the 52 weeks in a year. That's 11 months of recovery, plus a month of travel and logistics. So, if Wong has been working at the library for 11 years, then Kaecilius would have stolen the pages somewhere between 11 years to 1 year before Stephen arrived at Kamar-Taj.

@invye what's your expert opinion? (I'm going way too far into this rabbit hole HELP)

[lu-is-not-ok]

do you think that what EGO someone manifests is based on what caused them to reach the crossroads of Distortion and Manifestation? because distortions are pretty clearly based at least a little around that given... Phillip, but I'm not familiar enough with Xiao's story to make a conclusion about that.

Soooo I know you've only asked about like, the form a manifested E.G.O takes and what might affect it, but uh, I really want to just ramble about everything we know thus far about Distortions and Manifested/Effloresced E.G.O, so I hope you don't mind me hijacking your over a month old ask for that.

Alright? Alright. Under cut because I want to pop off. Oh, also, I'm going to spoil the fuck out of Lobotomy Corporation, Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, and Leviathan. Be warned.

Let's start from the basics. What causes one to Distort and/or Manifest E.G.O?

If you've gone through LobCorp and/or Ruina, your answer is most likely going to be the Light, the final product of Carmen and Ayin's research that was released during the White Nights and Dark Days, and which currently houses the essence of both of them. However, I don't think that's the full picture.

First of all, and probably most importantly, there have been cases of both E.G.O Manifestations and Distortions before the White Nights and Dark Days, that being Kali's E.G.O, and the Bloodfiend lineages.

Now, I have not read Distortion Detective yet, so all of my sources on this are second-hand, but from my understanding Bloodfiends are a kind of Distortion that has existed far before LobCorp took place. The process in which one joins this lineage is by "recieving blood from a certain mansion", apparently implied to belonging to an Abnormality called Nosferatu.

But wait, those who have played LobCorp might be asking, aren't Abnormalities created by L Corp? How can Abnormalities exist before the events of LobCorp?

Here, allow me to talk about Cogito.

For those who don't know, Cogito was the Singularity of L Corp. A substance that, upon being injected into a person, would materialize concepts and ideas from that person's mind into the form of Abnormalities. This process is described as using Cogito as a sort of "bucket" to draw these concepts and ideas like water from the Well of Humanity, aka the (implied to be collective) human subconscious.

While I don't recall if we're ever told what the initial source of Cogito was for Ayin and Carmen's experiments, we do know that after Carmen's "death", her disembodied nervous system became a constant source of it for L Corp.

So, this tells us something important: Abnormalities are concepts and ideas that float around in this Well of Humanity given physical form, which makes sense considering how many of them are based on things such as fairytales, folktales, legends, fears, events in the City's recent history, and other general ideas that the people living in the City may have.

However, it is important to note that not all Abnormalities come from Cogito specifically. In fact, we see an example of one such Abnormality in Chapter 19 of Leviathan. We see an Abnormality we see in LobCorp, Schadenfreude, burst out of Distorted Jumsoon when the beliefs and desires he held and which were the fuel for his Distortion were completely broken down.

Notably, there is a thematic similarity between Jumsoon's Distortion and Schadenfreude, that is being the theme of observing every moment in the world.

What we see is an Abnormality being born out of a Distortion's ego death, where the moment a Distortion loses its desires and beliefs, its identity, the wish that pushed them into Distorting in the first place is the only thing left, that physical manifestation of a concept taking place of that missing self.

Did that make any sense?

Basically what I'm saying is: an Abnormality is a concept that became the self in its entirety.

As such, anything that would be able to give a concept or idea by itself physical form or sense of self, like Cogito or the ego death of Distortion, could potentially form an Abnormality. Which, laid out like that, means it's absolutely not impossible for some proto-Abnormality to form on its own, whether due to a concept acquiring a sense of self naturally, or due to the interference of some other factor we currently might not know about.

So, now that we know what Abnormalities are about, let's go back to what we were talking about: where the pre White Nights and Dark Days Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os could have come from.

We already established that Bloodfiends join the lineage due to ingesting a substance (blood) that came directly from an Abnormality.

Now, let's talk about Kali. Luckily, we get a much clearer picture on what led her to manifest an E.G.O thanks to the story on the Red Mist Key Page. Kali was the first person to wield a prototype of an E.G.O weapon, a weapon and a byproduct that was able to be extracted from the Abnormality called Nothing There. As Kali used this weapon, the ego of the Abnormality would seem to speak to her, its words becoming clearer the longer Kali used it. It would ask if Kali wanted a shell, a form of armor to protect her flesh. Though initially ignoring it, Kali started to interpret its words with her own bias, becoming torn between how much blood she spilled, and how much of it was for protecting others. This eventually leads to her momentarily breaking down, only to steel her resolve and vow to protect Carmen at all cost, this desire of which leads to her manifesting her own E.G.O in the form of an armor, a "shell" to protect her while she protects others.

So, to summarize, Kali had direct contact with an unstable version of E.G.O gear extracted from an Abnormality. Upon being broken down by this gear, seemingly on the verge of Corrosion, Kali instead steels herself in her resolve, and her desire to protect others mixed with the influence of the E.G.O weapon allow her to manifest a shell to protect herself.

Effectively, both pre White Night and Dark Days are caused because of some sort of contact with something extracted from an Abnormality. For Bloodfiends, it was physically consuming Nosferatu's blood. For Kali, it was being in prolonged contact with an unstable Nothing There E.G.O, almost becoming Corroded, but staving it off by focusing on her own desires.

Now, some of you may be asking, why is that important? That's that and this is this, the current Distortion Phenomenon is different because the Light, right?

And here, dear reader, is where you would be wrong.

Let's recap what the Light is, shall we?

From what we know, the Light is the product of the Seed of Light. Carmen's thought process was this: to save humanity, people need to be cured of a "disease of the mind" and have light returned to their souls. The Seed of Light is meant to be the medicine to this disease, something that would draw out from the human subconscious, a formless concept taking shape and becoming a literal seed that could be planted and bloom within people's minds (...is that where the term Effloresced comes from, I wonder).

We know two things that the Seed of Light requires to be fully created: the emotional catharsis of all the Sephirah and A himself overcoming their pasts, and energy in the form of Enkephalin, which is extracted from Abnormalities. Upon being released in the form of Light shining over the City, Carmen and Ayin would enter the Light itself, their essences becoming a part of it.

Interestingly enough, one of the bad, non-canon endings to LobCorp reveals that the incomplete Seed of Light would have the effect of turning people into Abnormalities! Which, makes sense, considering the main power of this Seed is to draw out formless concepts from the human subconscious and give them shape, literally the exact process that Abnormalities are created through.

However, this isn't what I want to focus on here. I want to focus on one of the components of the Seed of Light - Enkephalin. A substance that is extracted from Abnormalities, in the same process that results in E.G.O as a byproduct.

Can you see the pattern yet? Nosferatu's blood, an unstable E.G.O weapon, a Seed of Light created using Enkephalin. All of the sources of Distortions and Manifested E.G.Os are themselves either substances extracted from Abnormalities, or something created using substances extracted from Abnormalities.

Another funny thing to consider is the alternate source of Enkephalin we learn about from Limbus Company - human nervous systems. You know what other substance was extracted from a human nervous system? That's right, Cogito.

Perhaps that's why the Seed of Light had to also include emotional catharsis as an ingredient. Perhaps Enkephalin on its own being used makes it too close to Cogito, thus resulting in the same outcome. And perhaps, it's also why the Light is able to make people give form to thoughts in their own minds on such a wide scale. But, that's just speculation on my part.

So, now that this whole preamble is out of the way and we roughly know How the Light is able to cause people to Distort and Manifest E.G.Os, let's take a bit of a closer look. After all, the Light itself wasn't enough to make everyone Distort/Effloresce all at once, perhaps because it was cut short by Angela. No, the Light in its current actual form merely allows people to Distort/Effloresce, it's not the actual trigger.

Which, begs the question: what is the trigger?

From what we see in Wonderlab, Library of Ruina, Limbus Company, and Leviathan, there are two main variables that one needs to reach the threshold of either Distorting or Efflorescing.

The first is being in a state of high emotions.

Catt learning that all of the suffering their coworkers had gone through was for nothing due to the Manager having been dead all this time. Philip being at his lowest after the people who he cared about and who tried to protect him had died. Xiao losing the man she loved and her coworkers/friends one by one. Yan being forced to face where the Prescripts truly come from, and realizing that all of his attempts at working against them were in vain. Roland finally arriving at the moment he could make Angela suffer for what her actions caused. Vergilius losing Garnet and being reminded of the reason why he cared for the orphanage in the first place. Dongbeak being reminded of why she's doing what she's doing in the face of Dongrang's mocking and the possibility of her defeat. Dongrang being reminded of the better times and being forced to face just how far he has fallen.

The second is having strong, sincere desires, and the resolve to follow them.

Catt wishing that the heart could have done something in the face of this meaninglessness. Philip initially wishing to selfishly avenge those he lost, only to then break down and wish to shut the world out at all cost. Xiao wishing to not let her loved ones' deaths be in vain, to be someone that people can rely on despite her missteps. Yan's desires becoming one with the will of the City after falling into despair. Roland's desire to make Angela truly suffer as revenge for Angelica's death. Vergilius wishing to carry his sins and the suffering he's seen with him. Dongbaek wishing to be the soil that a new world could bloom upon. Dongrang initially wishing to run away from the shadow other people's accomplishments put him under, and then deciding to instead find his own path towards reaching success.

But then comes the question, what is the difference? What decides whether someone Distorts or Manifests E.G.O? Funnily enough, Chapter 18 of Leviathan spells it out.

To Distort is to fully become one with one's desire. It's to expel everything that isn't the "self", and to paint the world with that desire as well. It's making one's desires and thoughts take form through one's body, the self becomes unified and true.

On the other hand, to Manifest E.G.O is to "show restraint", as Carmen puts it. To understand and face reality as it is, yet still let one's desires take physical form, in this case as "clothes and tools". Using those thoughts and wishes rather than becoming one with them.

And this, well, succintly explains what form a Distortion or E.G.O takes on, doesn't it? It's entirely based on what desire triggered this process, as that's the concept that is given physical form thanks to the Light.

This isn't even speculation at this point. This is actually something directly spelled out in Leviathan as well.

To quote Vergilius describing his Effloresced E.G.O:

"I wear a crown of thorns upon my head, so that I may shoulder everything until my future victory. Faded laurel leaves sprout to cover all of the thorns on my head, and tears of blood flow from my eyes so I may see all the sins I'll have to bear from now on.  And the thorny path I shall travel is a curtain of blood containing my karma, a crimson cloth that covers my whole being."

...

Yeah I think this is a good point to end this post off. This already took me several hours to write, dear lord.

[leinielly]

REGAL ACADEMY o refúgio para contos de fadas

💚🇧🇷:

Neo Rose:

Finalmente vamos ver a Rose Cendrillon grigiastro, talvez eu mude o sobrenome dela.

Rose é uma garota de cabelos loiro manteiga e olhos azuis como um cristal de gelo, por algum motivo ela tem merchas rosas em seus cabelo, talvez ela tenha tigido para se destacar um pouco, ela sempre gostou de contos de fadas, mesmo que passaram anos e ela já era uma adolescente, ela nunca deixou de gostar dos contos de fadas que sua mãe a contava antes de dormir, Atualmente ela mesma lê livros de várias versões de uma só história de contos de fadas. muitos dos seus colegas em sua escola a viam como infantil pelo seu amor por contos de fadas, embora ela também tenha um bom gosto para casados e sonha em ter uma loja de sapatos de todos os tipos, diria que alguns alunos aproveitam que ela não consegue se encaixar para a fazerem de capaxo e se aproveitarem dela, pelo fato dela ser bastante proativa e dedicada em suas tarefas.

Em mais um dia frustrante após a escola, Rose decide esfriar a cabeça indo para a biblioteca da idade, por terem chegado novos livros lá, procurando pelas estantes ela encontra um livro que a chama a atenção pela capa incomum e ao ler a capa descobre o título: "REGAL ACADEMY o refúgio para contos de fadas" curiosa ela abre o livro para saber do que se tratava e ao finalmente chegar no primeiro capítulo lê uma frase que pensava ser um crédito a alguém em voz alta, mas oque aconteceu foi que acabou sendo sugada para dentro do livro e parando em um lugar que com certeza não era da sua cidade.

💙🇺🇸:

Neo Rose

Finally we'll see Rose Cendrillon grigiastro, maybe I'll change her last name.

Rose is a girl with butter blonde hair and blue eyes like an ice crystal, for some reason she has pink streaks in her hair, maybe she dyed it to stand out a little, she has always liked fairy tales, even though years have passed. and she was already a teenager, she never stopped liking the fairy tales her mother told her before bed. Currently, she herself reads books with several versions of a single fairy tale story. Many of her classmates at her school saw her as childish due to her love of fairy tales, although she also has good taste in marriage and dreams of having a shoe store of all kinds, I would say that some students take advantage of what she is unable to do. fit in to act as a cloak and take advantage of her, due to the fact that she is very proactive and dedicated to her tasks.

On another frustrating day after school, Rose decides to clear her head by going to the old library, because new books have arrived there, looking through the shelves she finds a book that catches her attention due to its unusual cover and when reading the cover she discovers the title: "REGAL ACADEMY the refuge for fairy tales" curious she opens the book to find out what it was about and when she finally reaches the first chapter she reads a sentence that she thought was a credit to someone out loud, but what happened was that it ended being sucked into the book and ending up in a place that was definitely not in her city.

❤🇮🇹: NEO Rose

Finalmente vedremo Rose Cendrillon Grigiastro, magari le cambierò cognome.

Rose è una ragazza dai capelli biondo burro e dagli occhi azzurri come un cristallo di ghiaccio, per qualche motivo ha delle mèches rosa tra i capelli, forse li ha tinti per risaltare un po', le sono sempre piaciute le favole, anche se sono passati anni. ed era già un'adolescente, non ha mai smesso di apprezzare le fiabe che sua madre le raccontava prima di andare a letto. Attualmente lei stessa legge libri con diverse versioni di un'unica fiaba. Molti compagni della sua scuola la vedevano infantile a causa del suo amore per le favole, nonostante abbia anche buon gusto in fatto di matrimonio e sogni di avere un negozio di scarpe di tutti i tipi, direi che alcuni studenti approfittano di quello che è incapace di adattarsi per fungere da mantello e approfittarsi di lei, poiché è molto proattiva e dedita ai suoi compiti.

In un'altra giornata frustrante dopo la scuola, Rose decide di schiarirsi le idee andando nella vecchia biblioteca, perché lì sono arrivati ​​nuovi libri, guardando tra gli scaffali trova un libro che cattura la sua attenzione per la sua copertina insolita e leggendo la copertina lei scopre il titolo: "REGAL ACADEMY il rifugio delle fiabe" incuriosita apre il libro per scoprire di cosa tratta e quando finalmente arriva al primo capitolo legge ad alta voce una frase che pensava fosse un merito per qualcuno, ma cosa quello che è successo è che finì per essere risucchiata dal libro e finire in un posto che sicuramente non era nella sua città.