#my-writing

[honeyynymphh]

| The Wager |

Cardinal Copia x FemReader rating: E words: 4k tags: dom copia, oral sex (m receiving), confessional sex, choking, rough sex, copia is a sneaky shit AO3

Summary: A new Sister of Sin, you feel you are not living up to the expectations of your new church and seek out confession to unburden yourself. Little do you know, that the Cardinal has something he needs to confess to you.

I started writing this ages ago and its been so close to finished for ages. Seeing the new movie made me feel motivated to complete it.

Not my best work but hey, I did some writing :)

It's a bit silly but c'est la vie!

Your hands grip the edge of the pew as you take a steadying breath. You’d been sitting here for nearly an hour, watching sibling after sibling as they entered and left the confessional box. It seemed so large and imposing in the low light of the abbey’s candelabras. You knew you needed to speak, to confess. Yet you were anxious. A new Sister of Sin, and not just any new Sister—but one that had converted from the local church.

A few months have passed since you left your old life behind you to join the strange, yet welcoming, abbey upon the hill. Everyone had accepted you without question—you were not the first to leave behind an old god and you would not be the last—yet old habits and the lingering guilt were hard to forget. Your hands tighten their grip on the pew and you watch as another sibling leaves the confessional. They give you a brief smile before they pass and you realise you are the only one left, the only sound is their fading footsteps before the chapel is silent.

It was now that you had to go before the confessional closed for the evening, it was so late already. You could wait until next week, yet you felt you couldn’t keep this bubbling away inside. You needed to speak to someone—and you had spoken with Papa Terzo before. He had been charming and kind, and very flirty, something that made you flush quite a bit. But he never made you feel silly or stupid for not knowing the customs of your new home. You were sure this would be no different, yet the anxiety still lingered.

You made yourself stand, sliding out of the pew and walking over to the confessional. Your hand hesitates before you gently knock on the side of the detailed wood.

“Enter.”

The low word is muffled but you hear it and step inside. The door shuts quietly behind you and you take your seat, glancing at the shadowy outline of Papa on the other side. It smells like chapel incense and some other scent that has you taking a deep breath as the scent comforts you in the warmth of the confessional. 

With your hands clasped in your lap, you speak, “Forgive me, Papa, for I have sinned.”

“This must be your first time, Sister.”

You pause. The voice is not Papa Terzo as you had expected but Cardinal Copia. You grip the fabric of your habit in embarrassment. While you were too busy worrying, you had not noticed that Cardinal Copia was the one taking confession and not Papa.

“Forgive me, Cardinal,” you say.

“There is nothing to forgive,” he says. “And we do things a little differently here. Sinning is very much encouraged.”

“Sorry, Your Eminence, I am still stuck in my old ways,” you reply hesitantly, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

“Does this bother you, Sister?”

You nod and then realise he can’t see you. “I’m finding it hard to adjust, it is so similar yet so different to my old life.”

“That is to be expected, change affects us all,” he says. “It will improve over time, you haven’t been with us long.”

You know that’s true. You also realise this is the first conversation you’ve ever had with the Cardinal. He always seemed to keep to himself or haunt the library. You’d only ever exchanged greetings with him before. He made you nervous, Papa Terzo was so much more approachable than Cardinal Copia. Anyone was…well, perhaps not Papa Secondo. But Cardinal Copia was so silent and quiet, he only ever really seemed to come alive during sermons or when he taught classes. His intensity was intimidating and the way he would sometimes cut down a fellow sibling during a lesson could be nerve wracking. But how his impassioned words held your attention, it was impossible not to be drawn to the Cardinal. You wanted to be noticed by him yet never have his gaze upon you. So you’re surprised at how kind his words are, though you know it is his job. It’s much easier to talk to him when you aren’t forced to look at his imposing expression.

“I know, Cardinal,” you say. “I just worry I’m not…meeting expectations.”

“How so?”

You shift in your seat. This had been much easier when you’d been imagining it in your head. And while the Cardinal words were polite, there was still an edge to his voice that made you shift on the wooden seat.

“In my worship,” you say, feeling your face flush. “I know many siblings prefer to do so, er, together.”

“Ah.”

“All forms of sin are encouraged, mia cara, not just the ones of the flesh.” His voice is low and you scoot a little closer towards it, unable to help but smile at the endearment. “You do not need to be writhing upon an altar while someone feasts upon your divine sex to please the Olde One.”

Maybe not but it’s suddenly all you can think about. It was one thing to leave your old life behind because you did not wish to live a life without pleasure, yet to have it fully thrust upon was hard to contend with. The abbey lived life to the fullest and held no shame, but you were not ready to participate in certain rituals. Though, you had certainly thought of them with the Cardinal in mind. But you knew he never attended such things.

How you wished that he did.

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” you reply, sensing it was time to leave. “Siamo con il nostro Dio Scuro,” he says and you can dimly see his gloved hand move in the darkness to make the sign of the grucfix. “Nema.”

You stand and make to leave but he speaks, making you pause.

“Sister.”

The sharp word hangs in the small space and you glance at his shadowy figure on the other side of the confessional.

“Yes, Cardinal?”

He clears his throat and his words are short, awkward. This has your brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Do you have time to stay a moment? I know it is late.”

“Yes, I can.” You sit back down, apprehension knotting in your stomach.

“I feel I must confess something to you.”

Confess? To you? Cardinal Copia? The apprehension knots even further. What could he possibly confess?

“Oh?” is all that manages to escape your mouth. Your head twists so that you are facing the latticed partition. Your hands grip the edge and you lean closer without even realising your face is nearly touching it.

“I heard that Papa Terzo and Papa Secondo have a wager, in regards to you,” says the Cardinal.

“A wager?” you ask, confused.

“Si,” he says, his words still sounding oddly stilted. “There is no polite way to say it, Sister, but they’re betting on who can fuck you first.” He sighs. “They do it after every initiation of a new group of siblings.”

“What?” it comes out as a squeak.

“They pick someone and whoever fucks them first wins.”

You’re shocked but also strangely thrilled at the thought. You haven't really spoken to either Papa. Secondo was so…Secondo, you don’t think you can recall ever having spoken to him. And Terzo was always surrounded by admirers that you had only really spoken to when you first joined or after Dark Mass, since he was the reigning Papa. While he has always been so friendly to you, you did not think he even knew your name.

“Why me?” you can’t help but ask.

“You come from the village church,” says Copia with a sneer. “They think it would be quite the challenge—” he pauses and then quickly asks, “are you a virgin? Is this why you are reluctant to worship in such a fashion?”

“No!” you say quickly. You hadn’t had much as much experience as your new siblings but you had some. It had been one of the reasons for leaving your old faith behind. You feel your face colour in embarrassment.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of if you are. We are not heathens… not completely. You are not forced to do anything you do not wish to. You are not required to join the rituals if you do not wish to.”

“You don’t participate,” you say hesitantly. It’s not a question but you desperately want to know why he doesn’t join them.

“How could I compete with Papas?” he gives a short derisive laugh. “Pretty Sisters do not want a cardinal when they can have a Papa, eh?”

You say nothing but can’t help but smile. He called you pretty! How could someone not want him? Perhaps he was a little quiet and somewhat intimidating. But you can’t deny the way you have had to press your thighs together when he would sometimes speak. Your thoughts return to his earlier words of worship upon an altar. You shiver at the thoughts, feeling the warmth of arousal begin to burn low.

“Sister?”

“Sorry, Cardinal.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me this. You are wrong though, many would want you.”

“That is kind of you, mia cara. But I am well aware of my reputation.” You hear a low chuckle, you’d never really heard him laugh before. “Which you best not ruin just because I have chosen to share this with you. I’ve merely had enough. And you didn’t seem like you would be one for their stupid games.”

You sat there. You were surprised that the Papas would even have such a wager, it didn’t seem like something these people would do. But Terzo did seem to always be surrounded by fawning siblings and had such a charming air about him. And Secondo…he always seemed to have someone—or several someone’s—with him. And his gravelly voice was quite enthralling. A silly brotherly game, you supposed.

But, why you? It was true you’d come from the local church, having had your doubts for quite a while until you’d spied the strange abbey upon the hill and felt drawn to it.

The partition suddenly slid across revealing the Cardinal in his splendid red robes. He looked like the Devil himself standing there while you remain seated. He quirks an eyebrow at you in question.

“Sister?”

You stand quickly and the small booth means you are so very close to him. The spicy yet woody scent you had smelt earlier was not the chapel's incense but him. The warmth of his body seems to amplify it, along with the fresh scent of clean linen and the tang of sweat that clings to his cassock. It feels far too warm here in the confessional. Why did he open the partition?

“Are you alright, Sister?” His low voice is overwhelming when you are so close, a hand gently grabs hold of your shoulder and squeezes lightly. “I hope I have not misspoken nor upset you by telling you this.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. His hand is gloved—as always—yet the heat radiates from it. It feels so large on your shoulder and you can’t help the thought of that hand touching you elsewhere. You hastily look down as you feel the blush spread across your cheeks.

“No, Your Eminence,” you say. You steal yourself when the thought hits you. quickly leaning forward to kiss his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. “Thank you, again.”

You risk a glance at his face and his expression hasn’t changed. But he doesn’t look disgusted so before you lose your courage, you move again and press your lips briefly against his, feeling his moustache tickle your skin before you’ve already pulled back.

He speaks, voice a low growl that makes your stomach flip. “Don’t do that, Sister.”

Oh. Instantly any hope you had is crushed. It was a stupid thing to do! You look down again and mumble an apology under your breath. You move to leave but his hand is still on your shoulder and it holds you in place, the other hand coming to your chin so his fingers can tilt your face up to meet his gaze.

“You can’t tease an old man like that,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Go kiss a Papa, mia dolce.”

“I don’t want to kiss a Papa,” you say. “I want to kiss you, Cardinal.”

Suddenly he seems different, more how he appears during sermons with that raw intensity you find so alluring. His touch is firm and sure as he pulls you into his side of the booth. Effortlessly he sits, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands glide up your legs to then grip your hips so he can pull you flush against him.

“Give me a kiss then, dolce.”

Heart racing, you eagerly lean forward and press your mouth against his again. This time he responds, lips moving under yours. You can taste the bitterness of the paint on his top lip but it’s barely noticeable when his tongue is trying to slide into your mouth. You’re swept up in the taste of him and the insistent way he devours you, teeth occasionally biting and pulling at your bottom lip. It makes a thrill run down your spine and you press yourself closer to him.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless. His eyes are nearly the same, both so blown wide by lust that you can barely determine the colour of them in the dimness of the booth.

“Grazie, Sorella,” he says.

You feel like you are on fire. Your entire body is singing from one kiss. Lucifer, you want more. Without even thinking you move your hips forward, so you are sliding even closer to him, nearly falling off him in your desire to get closer. His thigh is right under your aching sex and you can’t help but grind down on it.

His moustache twitches as a small smile appears on his face. “You want more than a kiss, si?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” you say breathlessly as he pushes his thigh back against you making you pant out a moan.

“I thought you did not wish to worship this way?” he asks though he doesn’t sound concerned like he did before, his voice is edging on teasing. As if he already knows why.

“I—” your words fumble as you feel another flush suffuse your face. You are already in his lap and he just had his tongue half way down your throat—now was not the time to be the ignorant village girl. You swallow your nerves and say, “I want to worship with you, Cardinal.”

A sly grin unfurls on his face and that makes your heart race.

He brings up over his laps properly so your hips are slotted against his. The position makes you moan as you can feel the hardness of his cock through the layers of his cassock

“I worship a little differently to what you may be used to, dolce,” he purrs against your ear while a hand wraps around your neck. He squeezes, not too tightly but enough to get the point across. “You can leave now if you wish.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to leave, Cardinal.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his praise, which he clearly notices. He thrusts his hips up against yours and your hands grip at the fabric of his pelegrina. The friction feels far too good but you want more and press down against him clumsily, making him let out a low laugh.

He brings his face close to yours, his nose pressing against your temple and his breath ghosts against your ear.

“Will you get on your knees for me, dolce?”

It’s so warm in the confessional that any sane thoughts have left you. It’s like he managed to bewitch you—you’d do anything he asked. And so you nod and slowly slide off of him to the floor. There isn’t much space in the confessional and it’s all stuffy but you feel even hotter as you watch him lift the fabric of his cassock. Underneath are his usual tight pants and you can see the large bulge straining against the fabric. Dazed and body singing with lust, you can’t help but lick your lips when he unzips them, letting his cock free.

You stare at it and you feel his hand reach for your wimple and yank it off so your hair can spill free. The leather of his gloved hands is soft as a finger traces your face before a hand winds tightly in your hair to bring your head closer towards his flushed cock. Your hands grip his thighs as you lick the head, the groan that leaves Copia’s throat emboldening you so that you lick it again before gripping the base to take it into your mouth.

The hand in your hair tightens further and you lick the underside of his cock as you suck, teasing him as best you can. Every sigh and moan that comes from him feels like a prayer and you increase your movements even though your own sex demands attention. You can feel the wetness seeping through your knickers and you desperately squeeze your thighs together, the hand not pumping his cock digging into his thighs as you moan around him.

“Do you need help, dolce?” he growls from above you.

You feel him shift, forcing your mouth to leave him, as the toe of one his boots finds its way between your knees to press up against your cunt. Immediately you grind down against him, desperately trying to ride against the leather while your hand still fists his cock.

It’s not enough though and you feel he can sense your desperation in the way he laughs.

“You need more from your Cardinal, si?”

“Yes, please, Your Eminence” you breathe, grinding down against him again.

His hands move to pull you up on your feet and when he commands that you remove your panties, you do. Stepping out of them hurriedly and leaving them on the floor before he is tugging you back into lap and pushing the skirt of your habit up to bunch around your waist. He makes no effort to be gentle, gripping your hips tightly and positioning you over his slick cock before he is bringing you down. You are more than ready for him but it has been so long since the last time you had fucked anyone.

“Cazzo,” he hisses, one of his hands coming between you to circle your clit.

The jolt of pleasure has you sinking onto him further, opening you up to him so that he is fully seated within you. You moan as he continues to rub at your bundle of nerves, your hips grinding down on him as you try to take your pleasure. Your blood is boiling with a neediness you have never felt so acutely before and when you begin to ride him in earnest, he is matching your thrusts with his own.

“Good girl,” he says, the low voice making your cunt throb in response.

A gloved hand is back at your throat, holding you tightly and making your head spin. You feel lightheaded and your own movements become disjointed in the delirium surging through your veins. But it doesn’t matter, as Copia’s grip on your hips and throat have you held in place with ease as he fucks up into you.

You know you are going to come soon, you can feel the delicious tension low in your stomach and your spine tingles with anticipation. The easy slide of his cock in your cunt is addictive, and you can feel him swelling further, bringing you even closer to the edge.

When his hand leaves your throat to hold both sides of your hip and bring down against him so he can fuck you hard and fast, you come fast. Your hands grips at him, hands fistings in the fabric of his pelegrina as you lean forward to bury yourself against his neck. He keeps fucking you as your ride the wave of your release until you feel him spilling within you. You cling to him as he takes his own pleasure, muttering unintelligible Italian. Sweat is damp on your neck as his movements start to slow and the only sound left is both of your heavy breathing.

“Grazie, mia dolce,” he whispers, his moustache tickling your cheek.

You lean back to see the smirk on his face before awkwardly standing, suddenly embarrassed at what had come over you. You just fucked Cardinal Copia in the confessional!

“I—” your words falter and you look down on the floor, grabbing your wimple and trying to find your knickers. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”

You pin the wimple back on your head while the Copia is waiting, not a hair out of place, as he smooths down the front of his cassock. You notice something in his hand—your underwear. You go take it but he tuts at you and pockets them with a smirk.

“Penance, Sister,” is all he says before opening the door for you.

It is much cooler in the empty church, a welcome relief on your heated skin and you can’t wait to return to your bed, unable to look at the Cardinal while his seed drips down your thighs.

You nearly jump when you hear a voice echoing in the silence. “Buonasera, I was locking up.” It is Papa Secondo, a set of large keys in one hand as he stands at the other end of the church by the large doors. You walk with Copia towards him, holding your hands in front of you. 

“I was just holding confession with our new Sister, Papa,” says Copia smoothly. “But we are finished now.”

You don’t trust yourself to look at either of them and so you hurriedly offer a goodnight to both men before scurrying down the hallway and towards your room.

The next day feels like any other, though you are sore and bruised, you can’t help the anticipation of seeing the Cardinal again in your next lesson.

“Sorella!” 

The voice startles you and you turn to see Papa Terzo heading your way, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he comes down the hallway. He stops in front of you, gives an overdramatic bow that you cannot help but smile at. He proffers the flowers with a flourish.

“For you, bella!” he says. “I saw them out in the garden and had to pick them for you.” They’re dozens of red roses all neatly wrapped. “Did you wrap and add the card yourself too, Papa?”

“Si, si,” he says seriously but then he winks, earning a small laugh from you. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl!”

You spy Secondo heading your way as well and try not to let any embarrassment mar your features. There is no way he could possibly know what happened last night. He's scowling but he always looks like that so it’s hard to tell if he is actually upset or not. He gives you a polite nod.

“Sorella,” he greets with a small nod at you before glaring at his brother. “Idiota.”

“Secondo,” replies Papa Terzo, “as you can see I am busy talking to the lovely Sorella, andare via.” The older Papa sighs. “Non si disturbi.”

“Eh?” “Il ratto ti ha battuto.”

Terzo’s face immediately goes from charming to enraged. “Il ratto?”

It feels like both men have suddenly forgotten you are standing there. You do not wish to simply leave and so you stand there awkwardly, wondering if you should tell them you know of their ridiculous bet.

“Si,” says Secondo as Terzo starts to go red around the ears, “quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera.”

“Pah! Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo!”

Secondo ignores his brother’s outburst and looks at you. His voice is much softer than how he addressed Terzo when he asks, “Sorella, I trust your confession last night with the Cardinal was rewarding?”

Your face colours immediately and you stammer out a reply. “Yes, Papa, it was.”

“Vedi,” he says to Terzo with a half hearted shrug. “La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito.”

Terzo glares at the ground. “Cazzo.”

“Mmm. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda.”

They both look at you and you stand there awkwardly. Maybe you should say something and tell them you are flattered but they should not be betting on such things. But before you can even muster the words, Terzo gives you a tight smile.

“Forgive me, bella, but it seems there is a rat problem I must deal with.”

You watch them walk away, bickering in fast Italian to each other, as you stand there utterly confused.

andare via - go away Non si disturbi - Do not bother Il ratto ti ha battuto - The rat beat you Si, quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera. - Yes, that bastard fucked her in the confessional last night. Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo! - He’s lying. He can’t do this to me…again! Vedi - You see? La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito. - The girl looked thoroughly fucked and he was utterly smug about it, the bastard. Also, they both reeked of sex, Terzo. I am not using the confessional until it’s cleaned. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda - He’s always much better with the quiet ones than you are, that little shit.

[planetesastraea]

I'm absolutely baffled by the reception my silly lil "Abby & Tommy as friendly exes" fic got over on AO3 so here it is! BuckTommy shipper's are adorable, thank you for the warm welcome 🥰

Tommy has been lucky enough not to end up in the hospital for more than a scratch in something like ten years so really, it's not his fault that updating his emergency contact slipped his mind.

Or: Tommy is an idiot and Abby has fun verbally tormenting him.

Read on AO3 or

Tommy blinks his eyes open, not for the first time–but this time at least, he feels like he's actually awake and not drowning under a cocktail of pain meds. He takes a breath of overly sanitised hospital air and looks around slowly, well aware that every single alarm in his body is warning him to stay put.

"Hey," a female voice says and he blinks a few times before she appears in his line of sight.

"H-hey," he says to Abby.

To Abby?!

"Wait," he frowns, and it hurts. "What year is this?"

She laughs and the crystal clear sound echoes in the hospital room.

"I think it's the year you update your emergency contact."

He groans and every vibration that goes through his skull makes him regret the decision.

"What happened?"

"You crashed your car."

He pauses as his heart jumps into his throat.

“I what?”

“Well, a delivery truck crashed into you, more precisely. The driver had a heart attack.”

He vaguely remembers driving home from Harbor, a green light, an intersection, and then-

"Casualties?" he asks, and Abby answers quickly.

"No," she says kindly, and Tommy allows himself to briefly close his eyes in relief. "EMS were on scene fast enough to revive the driver. From what I’ve heard he earned himself a lifetime prescription for beta-blockes.”

“Okay,” he whispers, still wrapping his head (and his headache) around the whole idea.

“I mean, really, the only casualty is the night of sleep that never was while I spent 8 hours driving from Napa,” Abby said teasingly, bringing him back to Earth. “That was right after telling my husband that movie night was cancelled since my ex fiancé might be dying."

"Uh,” he nods carefully. “Sorry about that."

"He's very understanding.”

"Well," he starts, voice filled with fake confidence and a whole lot of painkillers. "Thanks for stopping by, Abby-"

"You really think I'm going to let you off this easy?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I can try-"

"It's been nine years, Tommy."

"It slipped my mind-" he says, but she talks over him.

"--And I have it on pretty good authority that someone else deserved that call–I mean if he hadn't cut you out of that damn car himself, who knows when he would have heard about this–"

Tommy breathes in. The world stops.

"Oh, god-"

"God hasn't been worried sick about you for the last 16 hours, Tommy. Evan Buckley has."

He sees it, in his mind's eye, Abby and Evan sitting next to each other in an emergency waiting room, truly wishing for his survival only in hopes of tearing him a new one.

"Wha- what did you t- what did he tell you?"

"That I'm not the only one into himbos, for starters," she quips.

"God," he mumbles, his hand reaching up, IV and all, in an attempt to massage his eyelids. He stops just short of rubbing his swollen excuse for a face as he realises that’s probably the worst idea. "I can't believe he told you that."

"It's Buck. Of course he told me that. He also told me about every single detail of the things I've missed in the last five years since we've talked."

"Of course he did."

"The dead brother was a surprise."

"Wasn't it for everyone?" he asks, finally making eye contact.

"And you thought your family was weird."

"Gosh, you said it."

She smiles at him and he wonders if maybe she missed this a little. The banter. The friendship. The everything he'd ruined.

"So, what happened?" she finally asks, the kindness in her voice back again. As if Tommy deserved any of it.

"I don't know," he mumbles, and instantly knows it's the wrong answer.

"Well, I mean, I get it. He's sweet, he's kind, he’s-he’s gotten so bulked up and well, we both know he’s pretty good at what he does-"

"Please, don't-"

"Well don't sleep with my ex and break his heart, Tommy."

"You broke it first-"

"My mother passed."

"I'm-" Fuck. His train of thought crashes entirely. "I'm sorry. That I wasn't–I should have been there for you." The apology is way past due.

"It's fine,” she says, without spite. “Buck was."

It's not a barb, just a fact. He doesn't look away.

"It's fine," she says again. "She loved you and most of the time she forgot you'd left. You're forgiven."

"Alright," he says, doubtfully.

"So," she starts again, raising his eyebrows at him. "Buck."

He sighs. There's no way out of this and he knows it. He's tied up to too many machines to make a run for it and he’s fairly sure he’s at least busted a knee.

"He asked me to move in with him."

"I see. So it didn't even take a wedding for you to walk out on this one?" she smirks and he accepts his penance.

"Have you always been this mean?"

"Always, when I'm sleep deprived."

He laughs. His ribs hurt. He takes it. He eyes the wedding ring on her finger and thinks about all that could have been.

"I freaked out," he says, in a breath.

She sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for his hand.

"Okay."

Christ, it's even worse when she's kind to him.

"I said shitty things."

She hums. "And so did he, right?"

His eyes meet hers. "He really has told you everything, hasn’t he?"

"We don't have many secrets left from each other, Buck and I."

He makes a face. "I'd like to delete that from my memory, please.”

She laughs. "So. Question is, are you in love with him?"

He sighs again and tries to shrug but has to fight the bruised feeling of his everything.

"What do you think?" he asks painfully.

She smiles.

“I think you never committed domestic terrorism for me-”

“God, just unplug me now, Abby, it’s my time to go-”

Abby laughs again.

“Nice try. As if I’d let you break our engagement and then still let you end up miserable.”

“You’re like the hospital ghost of Christmas past-”

“It’s June, how concussed are you?”

“My head hurts, Abby.”

“Worse than the total agony of being in love?”

There’s a beat and he squints because he just can’t believe she just quoted his favourite movie at him.

“You’re the worst.”

“Update your emergency contact, Kinard,” she says as she squeezes his hand, stands and walks out of the room, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Tommy blinks, and when he opens his eyes again, Evan’s right there, watching him, his fingers threaded through Tommy’s--but only the tips. As if Evan had been scared it was asking for too much.

Tommy realizes right then that he never wants Evan to think he’s too much ever again.

“Hey,” he whispers, mostly because his throat is parched.

Evan startles and looks at him eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights–probably like Tommy in that truck’s headlights–before Evan reaches out for a glass of water and offers Tommy the straw. Tommy tries to convey his appreciation in a blink as he slowly drinks.

When Evan has carefully set the glass down again, Tommy opens his mouth before he has the chance to chicken out.

“So, how’d you like to be my emergency contact?”

[missygoesmeow]

that one scene from pride & prejudice 2005 a little ficlet under the cut

i just wrote this on tumblr so lmao we ball. its more just to get the idea down.

Every door had been unlocked and every room had been rifled through—yet her contract was still in the Archives, perfectly preserved and untouched in its pride of place. With every passing moment, Tav could not shake the horrible sense of unease that told her this had been a stupid idea. Of course, it had been a reckless decision. But everyone bar Lae’zel had disagreed with her choice to sign Raphael’s contract.

And Gale had been right; she should not have agreed to give the Crown of Karsus to the devil But it had felt like the right choice to obtain the Orphic Hammer—for Lae'zel and for them all to survive this awful situation. Standing here, in this room, it no longer felt like a wise idea to break into the House of Hope and steal her contract back. Coming across Haarlep had been more than Tav had bargained for, and she had not spoken of what she had found in the boudoir. Not the password for her contract nor what she had done to obtain it. She had simply fled and found Astarion picking the lock to one last room. It had taken the vampire longer than usual to unlock—which had seemed strange upon entering it. There was nothing in here except for some broken statues and paintings—all of Raphael in his infernal glory. Yet, at the back of the room, there was one bust that sat on a plinth that captured her attention. It was the only piece of artwork in this entire monstrosity of a house that depicted Raphael in his human form.

There was no emotion in the expression except for a slight lingering dismissiveness from the arch of his brow. The blank marble stare paled in comparison to the real thing, surely no artist could capture his eyes, Tav thought. And here her mind wandered to the feel of Haarlep’s hand against her skin and his voice in her ear as her body still softly throbbed from his touch. Yet, whenever she closed her eyes she could only see Raphael’s warm amber eyes. She stared at the bust and the marble seemed to see right through her, dismissing her as nothing.

Tav felt like nothing.

While she knew she was but a means to an end to the devil, and that she should not have broken their agreement, nor his trust, to sneak into his home. She had hoped, however foolishly, that she would get away with it. But now, staring into the hollow eyes of his likeness, she felt the gnawing guilt and fear twist at her. She should have turned around as soon as she had arrived. And she most certainly should have walked away from Haarlep. But unlike the master of the house, she was mortal and she had been weak to resist the incubus. But she would not make any further mistakes and so she dragged her attention away from the marble statue and returned to her companions. "We need to leave. Now."

[jinxyble]

Family found

Narugodo Week 2024 Prompt Day 4: Family

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando & Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright, Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Godot/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright Characters: Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando, Naruhodou Minuki | Trucy Wright Additional Tags: Wrightdot, Godonaru, narugodo, GodoNix, Narugodo Week 2024, Wrightdot Week 2024, nrgdweek2024, a bit of a different entry Summary:

Narugodo Week 2024, Prompt: Family

Diego and Phoenix have been growing closer, so Diego sits down to check in with the most important person in Phoenix's life.

--

Phoenix is not present in this fic, but this is a family story nevertheless! ❤️

[lodien]

some punknoir. as a treat. for myself

[ivycorp]

the consequences of being a vehicle on Earth - even if only as a part-timer (3557 words) by IvyCorp Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Autobots & Carmine Fanzone Characters: Carmine Fanzone, Optimus Prime, Bulkhead (Transformers), Ratchet (Transformers), Bumblebee (Transformers), Prowl (Transformers) Additional Tags: Traffic Laws, fines, And Of Course - Freeform, Paperwork, Humor Series: Part 9 of Hearts and Sparks Ship Week 2023

Summary:

Part of Hearts and Sparks Ships week 2023 (Summer) - Day 2: On the Road/Trouble

The laws on Earth, especially the ones connected to traffic, could be a maze to navigate - with a lot of possibility to get a fine for oddest of reasons

Fortunately, the Autobots had help

Day 2 of @heartsandsparksshipweek!

[galaxygay495]

That what we call god is simply the manifestation of the human power of creation, a god tier power if ever there was one

What do you believe in now?

[faaun]

WHEN ON PERIOD:

do not crash out

your feelings are NOT valid

do not send that text

don't kill yourself. lock in

do not act on negative emotions until at least 2 days have elapsed

[izzythedemigod]

I just found the funniest font ever

Like. What is this. Why is this. Who is the target audience of this?

[honeyynymphh]

| A Lesson in Heroinism |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E word count: 4.8k tags: dom copia, vampires, teacher/student (sort of), light dom/sub, p in v, copia is a dick

They say Cardinal Copia is a vampire but you don't believe that...do you? Sequel to Freshly Squeezed but can be read independently.

read on ao3 18+ MDNI

Three paces, turn, one step—mind the crack—two more paces, stare at the clock. Sigh. Turn, three paces. One step—

“Sister.”

You stop, foot hovering in the air and stare at the ghoul across from you that’s waiting outside Sister Imperator’s office. The ghoul narrows its eyes at you. “Stop pacing, you are making me feel anxious. And I am a demon. Demons do not get anxious.”

“Sorry!” You drop your foot and stumble on the hem of your habit, hitting your shoulder on the stone wall. You hear the ghoul snicker before Imperator’s office door opens and it slinks inside.

Rubbing your arm, you flop down on the small bench outside the door you’ve been pacing in front of. You’ve already been sitting there for thirty minutes and you’re restless. You’d woken up to a note from Cardinal Copia requesting you come see him and here you damn well were. Standing again, you stare up at the intricate pattern on the abbey’s cathedral ceiling.

You were nervous. The last time you’d been alone with the Cardinal, only last night, his cock had been buried in your cunt and he’d given you the best orgasm you’d ever had. It felt like it had been some sort of wild dream and if it wasn’t for the bruises on your hips and the way your body still aches, you might have believed it had been.

You hope it will happen again. Why else would he ask you to come to his office this morning?

Squeezing your thighs together you continue pacing a moment before you lean against the door. Perhaps you should just leave. This was ridiculous waiting so long for that horrible old man.

And he was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Cantankerous. Unfair. Very good with his hands—wait, no! You huff out in frustration and your breath catches when the door you are leaning on suddenly snaps open.

You stumble backwards and feel two hands grab you firmly by the shoulders so you don’t fall over.

“Do you make it a habit of stumbling into places, Sister?” whispers a taunting voice by your ear.

You right yourself and spin around to glare at Cardinal Copia. He’s standing there, looking all neat in his black cassock as he flicks non-existent lint off one shoulder.

“I have been waiting for nearly an hour!” you say angrily. “And you’ve been in here the whole time?”

“It’s been twenty minutes.” The man shrugs. “I thought you’d be late.”

“I can tell the time, Cardinal.”

“Mmm.” You could tell he doubted that very much.

He was such an arse! You couldn’t believe he’d touched you—fucked you! Your whole body flushes at the memory. Maybe it had been a truly delirious dream. His strange eyes slowly take you in from head to toe and again you feel the flush.

You swallow your nerves and lift your chin. “Well? Why did you wish to see me?”

The man just tilts his head and clicks his tongue, still staring at you. You shift on your feet awkwardly. Hells, you wish he would stop staring at you.

Finally he sighs and says, “Papa Primo says you’ve been doing exemplary work in the greenhouses.” He says the words with a high amount of scepticism and you briefly wonder if you could poison Copia and get away with it. Something to think about. “And he has requested that your shifts in the archives with Cardinal Giorgio be swapped for assisting him.”

You perk up at that. The archives are interesting but Cardinal Giorgio and dusty, dark rooms were awfully monotonous. And Copia spent too much time in the library, before last night you would have done anything to get away from him. But now…? There is a look in his eyes you still don’t like, no matter how good his cock had been, it still didn’t make up for his terrible and downright rude personality. Besides all that, you did really like working in the greenhouses, plants were one thing you understood and loved.

“Well, that would be wonderful!” you say, seeming to forget with whom you are speaking with.

Cardinal Copia smiles, and it's a wretched evil little smile that makes your stomach feel uneasy.

“I told Papa no,” he says airily as your brow furrows. “Cardinal Giorgio needs your assistance more than Papa Primo and you already know the ins and outs of the archives, it would take too much time to train another sibling.”

You shake your head. “So why did you call me in here?”

“Just to keep you informed, Sister.” He gives another one of his terrifyingly gleeful smiles. “Now I must get to the chapel and so should you.”

He pats you on the shoulder before breezing past you and you dumbly watch him stalk down the hall, siblings scattering away like frightened mice. Maybe it had really been a dream. You just cannot believe that last night had happened.

You glance at the Cardinal’s desk and you roll your eyes at the overly neat way it is laid out—it’s pathological. You just know if you got a ruler out that his pencils would be the same width apart. In a fit of mischief, you move everything to the left a centimetre, twist his books so they’re slightly off and turn his idol of Lucifer a couple of degrees to the right. You even, with a lot of exertion, managed to drag his desk on one side so it’s ever so slightly off. Satisfied, you wipe the sweat from your brown and smile to yourself before hurrying out of his office.

Later that afternoon, you sit in the lecture hall, listening to Copia droning on about some demon or rather. You weren’t paying attention—you rarely did. Today it was more out of spite than not caring about whatever it was the evil old bastard was blathering about. What was his problem, you wonder? You shift in your seat and poke at a bruise on your thigh, again to reassure you that, yes, last night he had fucked you to hell and back.

Was this some sort of payment for pleasure? Did you now have to suffer for the absolute high you had experienced? That seemed like something too Catholic for this unholy institution. And, it was bad enough that it had been at the hands of Cardinal Copia, was that not punishment enough? You told yourself it didn’t matter, you didn’t care. You would just think about it for the rest of your life. You sigh and settle into the chair further.

Sitting at the back of the room was the best place, the afternoon sun was streaming through the high glass windows. It was warm on your face, and the sound of Copia talking at the front of the class was easy to tune out. Besides, the book you had stashed in your bag was calling your name. One of the perks of working in the library meant seeing a whole catalogue of different books. Some of them happened to include trashy romances with lots of monsters and a whole lot of satanic debauchery. Most were truly awful but they were a lot of fun—much more fun than whatever the Cardinal was talking about.

Glancing at him, you saw he was scribbling some diagram on the large chalkboard and grabbed the worn novel out of your bag, slipping it in front of the large demonology textbook and propping it slightly up so the paperback wasn’t visible.

You sink a little further into your chair and lose yourself in the story.

The dress ripped as his rough hands tore at the fabric, making Marianna gasp. She could feel his hard length against her thigh. How she wanted him! But it was too risky here on the terrace—anyone from the ballroom could come outside and find them. But Marianna could not help the burning fire in her belly and the look in Lord Cross’s dark eyes.

Were the rumours true? Would he feast on her virgin flesh? Marianna could not bring herself to care, for his hot mouth upon her soft skin was making her come undone. He—

“Sorella.”

You flinch, twisting around in your chair to find Copia towering over you. All eyes of the class are on you as a leather clad hand reaches over and plucks the book out from within its hiding spot.

Oh fuck.

You swallow and stare up at him. Maybe he won’t mind. Maybe…maybe he will make you stay after class. You press your legs together, suddenly somewhat hopeful. Copia smiles at you, and that hope is extinguished immediately.

He glances at the cover. “This is not the required reading, Sister.” He dangles the offending paperback like a proud housewife holding a dead mouse. “I do not want this in my lectures.”

“Yes, Your Eminence.” God the last time you had said that you’d been riding his cock. Your face flushes, his face barely betrays a thing except for dilated pupils and the twitch of his moustache.

An eyebrow quirks in question and he opens the book again, the only sound in the room is the bated breath of every other sibling as Copia’s leather gloves flick over the pages.

He pauses, eyes darting over the pages. “What is this ‘velvet-wrapped steel penetrating the precious valley between her legs’? Why do they not just say cock, sister?” He snaps the book shut, lips now twisting into a gleeful smirk. “Don’t you prefer cock in your wet cunt, eh?”

Everyone else laughs, grateful for the release of tension. The colour drains from your face as you watch him walk away and hear the loud thud of the book hitting his desk. You slink lower into your chair. But you aren’t free yet. Copia calls out to you from the front of the room and all eyes snap back to you.

“You will stay after the lecture has ended, Sister.” He taps the chalkboard. “Do try to pay attention.”

You glare at him, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes on him for the rest of the lecture. You don’t hear a word, too busy wondering about how that stupidly large nose of his would feel between your legs. Maybe you could suffocate him with your thighs.

When the lesson finally ends, you slowly make your way down to the front and you stand at the desk and wait. His eyes land on you and he stares a moment before he speaks.

“You are here to learn, Sorella,” he says. “Not to read badly written pornography.”

It wasn’t that bad, you think. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Good girl.” Oh hells, you think, don’t say that. “Now, tomorrow I want your full attention. You will sit right here.”

He points at the row of desks at the front. You just nod.

“Bene.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You can leave now.”

“But my book!” you say, any pretence of politeness forgotten. “And you said you would give me my knickers back!” you add in a harsh whisper. An eyebrow is arched but you aren’t cowed. It’s hard to be afraid of a man when you’ve ridden his cock and then tottered back to your room with his cum dripping down your thighs. Well, maybe he is still a little intimidating. “Your Eminence,” you add politely.

“You can survive without this brain rotting vulgarity for a day,” he says. “And your…panties?”

Your brow wrinkles. ‘Panties’ is not a word Cardinal Copia should say.

“Yes,” you say, trying to remain polite. “You said you would give them back to me.”

“Hmm?” He reaches into a pocket somewhere within his black cassock and you see him pull your knickers out. You go to grab them but he snatches his hand away. “Did I? I can’t say I recall that.”

You watch him bring them to his face, that stupid nose of his pressing against the fabric and inhaling deep. It shouldn’t make you cunt ache but it does. Your body feels caught between arousal and anger so you simply storm off, hearing the sound of his chuckle behind you.

It was midnight. It was freezing. It was a stupid idea.

However!

You were so restless. And that evil man had taken your book. You were not brave enough to spy on him again, not after his utter dismissal of you. The other night had definitely happened. You could barely stop thinking about it. Yet he had made no effort to try and get you into his bed again—well, not that you had been in his bed but that wasn’t the point. It had been crazy enough that you wanted Copia and now? You’d had him and your ridiculous body only wanted more. Maybe you should just go and find some relief with someone else—Terzo was always more than amiable. You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night with Papa.

You wanted something exhilarating. The Cardinal was a little frightening—more than a little—and fuck. The way he had touched you had been downright sinful. You wanted more of him.

It was a shame that he was such an ass. Maybe you could shove your panties in his mouth. Hmm. Though, he did have a lovely voice and some of the things he had said…you shuddered. However, you did not want to embarrass yourself any further in front of him. It was clear he thought you stupid, and perhaps you weren’t the most clever sibling but you were not an idiot.

All these thoughts run through your head as you sneak down the empty halls. Cardinal Georgio still had yet to notice the key was missing and you weren’t going to be too hasty in returning it. It meant you could access not only the archives but the entire library! You would just duck in, grab another book and get out.

You’d grabbed an oil lamp when leaving your room and now you let its soft light guide you through the many shelves. There were so many books to choose from and the smell of the library was so comforting. The books slumbered in their shelves as you walked past, fingers idly dragging over the titles.

When you hear a noise you freeze, turning the lamp off and ducking behind a shelf. You peer through a gap and see a small figure dart down the shelves, coming closer to you. They also have an oil lamp in their hands. The room is silent as they scurry along, their head bobbing as they scan the books before them.

It’s another Sister, though you cannot tell who in the darkness. You watch her and hear her muttering under breath. She’s too busy reading the spines of the books with the light of the lamp to notice the figure in the shadows slowly approaching her. You want to tell her to run but she’s too far away, and you don’t want the figure to notice you.

As even in the murky darkness there is no mistaking the shape and walk of Cardinal Copia. He’s slowly creeping towards her and when he is a foot away, he stops and leans forward to whisper in her ear.

She shrieks.

“You’ll wake the entire abbey,” you hear him snap. “Why are you out of bed at this hour?”

“Cardinal!” The poor girl sounded panicked. “I have an exam tomorrow and I needed—“

“You should have thought of that earlier,” he says as he shoos her out the large doors, “get back to the west wing now, Sorella.”

You watch a moment, seeing the Cardinal shut the large doors behind him. After a moment, when there are no sounds but your own breathing, you light the lamp again. Slowly creep towards the door and take the key from your pocket, locking it. No more distractions.

Feeling like you can breathe again, you head back to the shelves and flick through the dusty books until you find something that catches your interest—vampires. You read the blurb at the back, something about a dashing count living in the Italian countryside who has gone mad over his lost love and turned to Satan, changing him into a blood sucking devil. You briefly flick through the pages and decide that it will do for the night. You go to leave but you yelp at the sight of Cardinal Copia standing right in front of you and drop the book. Horrified, you watch as he slowly bends and picks it up.

In the low light of the oil lamp, he looked even more frightening than usual. You had become so used to the clergy members and their painted faces that sometimes you really never noticed how sinister they were. Mostly because they were all so welcoming and kind but the Cardinal did not look welcoming and he certainly never looked kind.

“Missing the velvet-wrapped steel that much are we, dolce?” he purred as you back up, hitting the shelf. He looks at the book in his hands and then gives you a look you can't quite discern. “Vampires?” He grins then.

“Yes, well, someone stole my other book,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “It’s not a crime to read a book.”

“It’s not,” he agrees. “Perhaps if you paid attention in class you might find something more exciting than these trashy novels.”

"Like what?”

“A real vampire.”

You scoff. “There are no vampires.”

“You sound so certain, Sorella,” he says with a mocking tone.

You scoff again. “There aren’t. You told us months ago there weren’t any. There hadn’t been in years.”

“Ah, so you do occasionally pay attention,” he says.

You roll your eyes. Vampires were interesting. Demons that stole your livestock were not.

“But I do think you should stop scurrying around at night, Sister, you might find yourself in more danger than you expect.” He glances at your rosary, a hand lifting to tap it. “And the lord below won’t be able to help you.”

He is standing very close now and the shadows cast by the lamp makes his face look absolutely terrifying. He smiles and the light catches on his teeth. Fuck did his teeth look sharper or was your mind just playing tricks?

You take a step back but he follows, your heartbeat picking up and thundering. It’s just late and he’s trying to scare you, that’s all this is. You pat the little pocket within your habit to reassure yourself of the key but freeze.

The key.

You locked that door. Maybe he came through the archives hidden passage? But he hadn’t come from that direction, you would have seen him if he did.

“I locked the door,” you say dumbly.

Copia tilts his head to the side and watches you a moment, his body far too still before he nods slowly. “You did.” He smiles at you but it offers no comfort at all. “Scared you’re going to be eaten, little mouse?”

“No!” you say, hating that you do indeed sound like a squeaking little mouse. “No. I’m not, because you’re not a vampire.”

“Are you so sure?”

Was he really telling you he was a vampire? Surely not. But how did he get in here? Had he turned into a bat? No! A rat? You’d surely read that somewhere before. Also you had seen him talking to his rats…maybe they did really understand him! And there were the rumours that he was a vampire, but it was just something that the siblings talked about behind his back. It wasn’t real.

But the ghouls were real. Demons were real. Was it so far-fetched? You weren’t a silly heroine in one of your books. You knew about these things! You tried to think about what you had learned about vampires.

“All the things you’ve taught us,” you begin to say, gaining more confidence as the information resurfaces in your mind, “sunlight, garlic—I’ve seen you eat garlic bread on pizza night, Cardinal!”

“Si, si,” he grins and your mounting confidence flags at the sight. “These are things that I've taught you.”

Your mind halts a moment, frozen by his words. He comes closer then, his cassock brushing against you as he moves. The way he towers over you, lit by the lamp makes his strange eyes look even creepier. You swallow thickly and take another small step back but the Cardinal follows.

“Frightened, dolce?” the words come out in a drawn out purr, he sounds excited as those eyes watch you unblinking. A gloved hand reaches out and takes the lamp from your unresisting hands.

You shake your head. “No…”

“Hmm, you don’t sound so sure,” he says, voice dropping low. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

You shake your head again, “No…”

“What a pity.”

The light in the lamp is extinguished and suddenly it's pitch black in the library. It will take too long for your eyes to adjust and even then, the Cardinal doesn’t give you a moment to breathe let alone orientate yourself.

He strikes fast, enveloping you in his embrace and pinning you against the bookshelf, causing a few books to clatter to the floor. His mouth is upon your neck, lips hungrily searching for your thundering pulse. When he finds it, he latches into your skin and sucks, tongue laving and teeth nipping at the skin. You don’t know if he’s broken skin or not but you’re not really thinking straight. The sudden adrenaline rush has your head spinning and those kisses on your neck have your pussy throbbing.

“Ah, my little mouse, how delicious you taste.” He chuckles against your skin before his mouth slides across your jaw and captures your lips.

There is the taste of his paint but it’s nothing compared to the taste of him. Did vampires have some addictive saliva? You wonder idly. Pinned against the bookshelf, there is little room for much though as he presses into you. You can feel the hardness of him through his cassock and you desperately try to press against it, craving friction as his mouth devours yours.

You feel him laugh against your mouth. “Sempre così bisognoso…”

You hum with pleasure when he slides a leg between you so you can press your aching cunt against it, gaining some relief. His mouth continues to ravage yours until his lips are back against your neck, making you shiver every time his teeth graze against the skin. A leather clad hand has snaked up into your hair, pulling you closer to him. You continue to grind against his leg but it isn’t enough, you need more.

You manage to pant out a desperate sounding plea for more which is quickly answered. The burning desire within you is insistent and wanton, you feel slightly mad with lust. Before you know it, he’s pulled your knickers down and your habit is bunched around your waist, his cock there, nudging at your slick cunt before he slides into you with one quick thrust. You moan as fills you, the stretch feeling far too good and his answering growl has your gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts up into you quickly, causing even more books to topple over and clatter on the floor. Head spinning, you feel like you’re on the edge of passing out in the most delicious way. Was it the blood loss?

You don’t even care, your body is singing with carnal delight even as books dig into your back. You know you’re going to come soon and you moan out insensible nonsense as you feel your walls tighten around him. The deep coiling tension with your belly snaps as the rolling waves of pleasure wash over you. It’s an effort to stay upright but you needn’t have bothered to try as you feel his cock pull out so he can pick you up and quickly move you to one of the many wooden tables that fill the library.

Back against the cold wood, through heavy eyes you manage to see his outline in the darkness. There is only the light from the moon outside that filters down the high windows and into the library. It’s not enough to see him clearly but you can make out that eerie white eye. You shudder in anticipation.

“Will you be good for your Cardinal again, dolce?” you hear him ask, the low tone of his voice making your pussy throb.

“Yes, Your Eminence,” the words are soft and come to you too easily, you are too blissed out to care what he does next and your body is still craving more.

Again he is upon you, cock nudging between your soaked thighs until he is thrusting deep. Your back arches off the table as he fills you again, causing another fire to build deep within you. You want to reach for him, to grip and hold, but before you can even move, his hands are pressing yours against the wood, almost painfully so. But it’s nothing compared to the way his cock feels.

He moves fast and deep, and your stomach clenches in anticipation of your next release. It’s building far too quickly. The Cardinal leans over you then, his body covering yours so his mouth is once more against your neck. You don’t catch the words he mutters before his teeth bite into the soft flesh. The pain feels so good in conjunction with the way he continues to fuck into you roughly and you tilt your hips to meet him as you shatter.

Clenching hard around him and not caring if anyone in the abbey is woken by your screams, you let the pleasure take you. The Cardinal is still within, buried deep and you feel his cock within you kick and you know he is filling you, the growling noise he makes vibrating through your spent body.

It feels like an age before the heady rush has cleared. You gingerly sit up when removes himself from you. When the oil lamp is lit your eyes squint to look at Copia, whose face is smeared in paint, you know yours must be too. Eyes widening in recollection, you quickly touch your neck and look at your hand. But there is no blood on it. You touch it again, prodding at the skin with your fingertips. It feels tender and there are indents, but the skin is not broken.

Huh?

Copia smooths down the front of his cassock and raises an eyebrow as you look at him in bewilderment. “Get up, Sorella.”

“But—” you stop talking when you see him pull a small key out from within his cassock.

“You have a key.” You stare at it as you carefully stand. Where are your knickers?

"How do you think I got in here if I didn't have a key, Sorella?” He scoffs. “Fly in as a bat?"

"No…” You offer him a sheepish look. “I thought a rat."

“A rat.” His expression is blank as you try to tidy yourself up. You look around for your knickers but can’t see them. You shake your head, it wouldn’t be the first time there had been a tryst in the library.

You pull your attention back to the Cardinal. “You like rats. And they’re cute.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to Cardinal Copia but it’s hard to care right now. God that man fucked good. It was not fair, you think.

“Do I look ‘cute’ to you, Sorella?” he asks.

No, he did not. He looked a little insane with his painted lips smeared and his hair a mess.

“You said there were vampires,” you say petulantly, aware that he had just played you for a fool.

He starts to move for the large library doors and you follow, aware that his seed is dripping down your thighs. You need to shower. And to rethink your life choices.

“It’s called a lie," says Copia. He thinks for a moment as he pauses at the door and unlocks it. “Though you’ve had a conversation with Cardinal Georgio. He is like a vampire, the most boring man I’ve ever met. Sucks the fun out of everything.”

You nod emphatically as you lull into this strange comfortable silence with the Cardinal. Cardinal Georgio was so incredibly boring it was honestly impressive. When you’re through the door and it is once more locked, Copia grabs your arm and you turn to face him again, startled by the move. Hells, his paint really is a mess.

“Sorella,” he says.

“Yes?”

He steps close again and your heart picks up. “While I cannot drain you dry, I can do something far worse.”

“What?” you ask, horrified.

“Fail you. Do not read that trash in my lectures again.”

Sempre così bisognoso… - Always so needy…

[theaftersundown]

the holy grail types of fanfic

[missygoesmeow]

wip whenever thanks for the tag @angellayercake :) i have very many wips but these two i am working on atm when I can (left is leyendecker redraw)

and some words! because of the "I prefer my liquor served in a quivering belly button, distilled in fear and arousal" line

You try to keep still, your body unable to stop quivering as the devil nears. A hand touches your hip and you can’t help but twitch at the contact.

“Ah, careful now, little mouse,” he says, those deceivingly gentle eyes finding yours. “You’ll make a mess if you don’t keep still.”

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the intricately carved detail of a demon and not the body heat emanating from Raphael as he leans over you. Your body is tense in anticipation as you feel the embroidery of his doublet scratch softly against your skin. His mouth seals over your belly button and you bite your lip; his mouth is hot and when you feel him drink the liquid there you suck in a breath. The devil doesn’t move though, you feel his tongue dip in and around your naval as he catches any last remaining drops of the liquor causing you to shudder. His tongue feels strange—too long and oddly shaped—how you wish it would move lower.

tagging: @sucharide @zombiequeenblog @visiosatanae @sky-kiss and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it :)

[jinxyble]

Are you nervous? 

My first entry for Narugodo Week, Prompt Day 1: Mask / Attorney's Badge 🩷

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Godot/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright Characters: Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Kaminogi Souryuu | Diego Armando, Godot (Gyakuten Saiban) Additional Tags: Wrightdot, narugodo, Godonaru, GodoNix, nrgdweek2024, Narugodo Week 2024, Wrightdot Week 2024 Summary:

Narugodo Week 2024, Prompt: Mask / Attorney’s Badge

Diego and Phoenix help one another through some big moments in life.

[heartbreakincident]

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[alivingtypo]

you can pry starting sentences with 'and' or 'but' out of my cold, dead hands