#no sir what you’re looking at is something so special and important to me

[noodles-and-tea]

👀

[sugume]

LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru

IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year

( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited

Word count - › 1.6K

“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 

“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 

“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  

It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 

—

“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  

“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 

“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 

“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 

“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 

“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  

He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  

“Really?” 

“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  

“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 

—

Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 

“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 

You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 

Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 

“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  

“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 

He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 

“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  

You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 

“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  

“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 

“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 

“Yea?” 

“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 

He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 

“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 

He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  

“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 

You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 

“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  

“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  

“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 

“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 

You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 

“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 

“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 

“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 

The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  

“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 

“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 

[aceofpatience]

🩶Sexual Intimacy with Your Soulmate → 18+ messages🩶💦

Hello, dearest oysters🐚

I have come back from the land of the eternal rest to bring you this kinda horny reading. [Warning: some graphic wording ahead🌶️]

I channeled the energy of your soulmate, how they perceive you and your intimacy and spicy times together in general.

Please leave your thoughts in the comments and as always: Shall we SEA??

PILE 1. → blue rose

Your soulmate's energy: Cancer/Leo/Scorpio. “Who am I today?” Persistent but also a bit impulsive. their emotions are like a storm, an elemental force. They handle conflicts well, maybe because they are used to it. What’s important, they are not afraid of any uneasy, less pleasant feelings, they embrace it both in themselves and others. They are very wealthy, maybe even work in finances, but they are not stingy with their money, they like to share their wealth. There is some family drama going on, I’m sensing some rich but cold uncle vibes contrasted with the loving poorer side of the family. They had to balance between those two sides. They might travel and work a lot. Their awaited position at the top is gonna come and they know it, so they are not in a hurry, and work as much as they do because they actually like what they’re doing. They have a habit of cutting off past engagements if they feel they no longer serve them, it’s kinda ruthless tbh. They might sometimes change their looks but more often their demeanor, how they present themselves to others. It’s the change itself that drives them, not any preconceived goal or aim. They feel good among people, even in the spotlight they’re not shy. For sure they like engaging in discussions or debates - kinda ENTP vibe lol. They like intellectual chaos and challenges - painfully blunt sometimes but it serves them. Very deep inside they hide their romantic nature, one that longs for The One. Waiting for their special person to unlock their inner tenderness. Very all or nothing.

How they view you: Immediately found you attractive when they first saw you (purely physical). They like your boobs (or chest) xd. I’m feeling you might meet during summer vacation, near some body of water (pool, sea, lake, big puddle lol). You’re like chilling and sunbathing and they are like *eyes* *smitten* *wow* *mesmerized* *damn.* “Is this a Goddess?”. They view you as a bit mysterious, maybe even spiritual and kinda closed off. And listen to me, that’s important: BLUE FLOWER (maybe you will be wearing it or sth?). At first they might not see you fully and you might do some casual spicy action BUT this action will serve to you as a confirmation. Love will bloom out of that. You’re kinda a challenge, something sacred and they see how brave you are. They realized that you’re not as delicate as they might have viewed you at first. It not only impresses them, they also see you as someone on par with them. They like fighting with you, arguing (not toxic but just clashing ideals). Pretty quickly they start to see you as someone they want to start a family with.

Your sexual life overall: A lot of flirting. Netflix and chill (except not chill at all lol). Rough and fast sex, but you both can keep at it for a long time. I’m talking about destroying furniture around, that intense. During your first time they see you as a tease (and they love it). [Also your first time with them might be the first time with sex for one of you, but it’s not awkward at all. After it you both grow so attached to each other, you cannot imagine them leaving] For sure, you are both big on dirty talk during and after. You may call them ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’, any BDSM play is very likely. You can be switching between dominant and submissive. Also: public sex, screaming each other's names, mirror sex, period sex (fingering, fisting, pounding), bondage.

Extra messages: Some jealous ex maybe. You may make the first move (physically), but they catch feelings first. They can be a bit jealous of you (they see you as someone many people would want, which is both alluring and upsetting). Maybe there is an age gap. If they are a man they might have slightly longer hair. And again: blue flower, dudes.

PILE 2. → black tulip

Your soulmate's energy: “Way down we go” They are working their ass off. They are chasing their destiny, they have some serious rivals, perhaps family or coworkers or someone in close proximity. They have to fight inner demons as well as external forces, enemies. They are focused on surviving and feel the constant need to prove themselves worthy. They are highly talented and so strong mentally and physically but they underplay those strengths, they cannot comprehend their own greatness. They might be drawing or sculpting or sth else (artistic like an architect I think). They are the silent type but they are not typically grumpy, might be an awkward turtleduck kinda lol around people. They feel like you deserve better than them, even view themselves as a villain. You might see them as this deadpan jerk but later you will understand that they smile only with you coz you make them happy. So cute “I hate everything but you.” Also you may have known each other or even been actually together for a brief moment but all those issues lead to a split. So there might be some animosity between you two at first, some past grievances - kinda vibe of enemies to lovers (It’s giving modern Zutara xd).

How they view you: “Queen of Peace”. They really think they are the devil, poor baby lol. They see you as a soulmate immediately, an equal in every sense. This attraction and emotional bond is very balanced. As a form of reconciliation they might awkwardly give a flower aww. They might seem too shy to make a move but they will surprise you, maybe you make them more bold. They see you as a gift from fate, something too precious for their hands. They are afraid they will drag you under. They see you as this ideal almost magical creature, something too good for them. It’s like they are expecting you to realize this and leave them, but you manage to show them that you love and choose them. They also admire your inner fire and passion and moral code (you always stick to your inner convictions).

Your sexual life overall: A lot of embraces. They love to hold you close and finger you, kiss your neck, and admire you. They just love pleasing you. More than the sex itself, the real intimacy for you is when you’re holding each other. Even when both of you are consumed by this fiery desire, you’re so tender and sensual, you worship each other. They listen to you and know your body so well it surprises you (and they show it in bed and you like it a lot xd). In terms of sex, you might do it a lot standing up or against a wall. You will gradually prove to them you won't leave.

Extra messages: Security and affection. They might have a dog, or some pet. Also I’m seeing some facial hair. They’re like a puppy in love. Also: coffee shop meeting/date; they might come from a rich family, and you might be a celebrity, influencer, internet fame or sth.

PILE 3. → blooming peony

Your soulmate's energy: Family. Tradition and discipline. They seem to be the stereotypical “family man”. Once, they had this positive, kinda childlike light about them that brought people in but I think something traumatic might have happened. I’m sensing death in their close proximity, a family member who passed away and they may have even witnessed it. Their world view kinda shifted. They still care about others but they had to mature faster and their light dimmed. Now they are more closed off and come across as kinda intimidating or detached. They might try to scare people away a bit. But there is strength in them, they can easily attack and take a hit when necessary. They act like the provider and are very protective of their family (but not in a controlling way, they leave others the space to grow). They also might work in real estate or sth?

How they view you: Intense silence from them lol. But they know you’re their soulmates, they see you as this feminine mother, queen. Somebody very nurturing and soothing as well as strict and able to keep up with them every stem of the way. They see you as somebody SO talented. You’re their world, you can speak to their wounded inner child and you both talk about your childhoods a lot, able to open up to each other. They see you as their only choice, somebody they’re gonna marry and there is no doubt in their mind: “This one is a keeper.” They want to provide for you, they see you as perfect, they want to quit their usual routine for you. Make a change for the better.

Your sexual life overall: They love to give oral to you, eat, and drink you out. I see them kneeling before you, worshiping you - from your feet to your head (and the most important parts as well heh). For your first time, you might be dressed up nicely and they might sensually undress you - they are giving this vibe of a chivalrous knight that turns into a passionate barbarian lol. They like to do it from the back, gripping your hips or ass. You might also like to dress up for the sex, not only lingerie but also dresses/suits in general - fancy clothes.

Extra messages: Seahorse. They are very attractive, bulky or muscular (big frame). I feel you’re quite tiny compared to them. They might naturally have a high body heat. For them, meeting you is a fresh new start. Hurt/comfort. You might be more chaotic or energetic than them but you complete each other nicely. Also there might be some pregnancy or kids down the line for you. You will just create a home for each other, a safe space.

PILE 4. → Gladiolus

Your soulmate's energy: Cold and ruthless. Smug ass. Filthy rich. So powerful and controlling but still have this playful, flirtatious side, a hidden inner trickster. [VeRy masculine, devil vibes] They are not above playing dirty to get what they want. They worked their way up on the top, they are like a dragon that keeps hoarding up its goods, content in its victory. They are not the ones to get attached easily but when they do, it’s all or nothing. When they were younger they had this vibe of a cute little prince of darkness lol (they cared about their appearance and reputation - now they don't really have to heh). For sure they are big city people, maybe they live in some high building, high above the ground. Some family tension - they might be forcing help (money maybe) on to their family even when it is rejected, which creates some clash. But overall, they know they’re attractive and intimidating (when they were younger they might have been using it far more, now they kinda don’t care). They have a bit of a silver tongue - a skill they perfected over the years - but I feel even without it they would get by fine. I’m getting that vibe you might be working together or under them lol so at first you both tried to keep things strictly professional, but as you guessed it doesn’t work. They can be very intimidating at the first meeting, but I feel you won’t be as impressed with their attitude as the rest.

How they view you: They cannot stop staring. Everything they have built and gathered over the years suddenly seemed insignificant after meeting you and it might throw them for the loop (caught them off guard). “I have never met someone like you before.” For a long time they wanted to keep their distance from you (again, because of work and their personality lol) but once they saw you in this more sexual light, there was no coming back. They couldn’t throw you out of their mind. Btw, do any of you have slightly red hair? Just curious lol. You are kinda unbothered with them, able to keep a straight face, which ignites their want to pursue. That’s kinda specific BUT there’s a story I see → You work together, maybe on some less than fully legal project and they NEED somebody they can trust on this and you come through. You become partners after this and the bond becomes more founded on mutual respect. So they trust you, your judgment, decision making skills, intellect and see this more delicate, emotional side of you. That starts pulling them towards you and they cannot stop it - they trust you now and they never trust people. Before all of this you might have had some casual hook up. Because the attraction was always there and strong. But then the feelings came. uhuhu (you are allowed to be more in your feminine when you are with them). They might like showering you with gifts, especially jewelry. I’m seeing a black necklace. They will try to make you lose your poker face and show your true emotions, so demanding.

Your sexual life overall: They like to hold you down and see you squirm a bit. I’m seeing them hovering over you. Spending 30 hours getting freaky lol. A lot of missionary, long lasting sessions on the bed. Slowly undressing. Slow and sensual kisses. For sure you both like to take your time. They might even enjoy you being naked, wearing only the jewelry they bought you. You like to kiss during sex. They enjoy watching you play with yourself, maybe even use toys. You like to scratch their back. They like seeing you lose control. (Somebody might be into biting).  Before you got together you might have been looking up each other's pictures online and really enjoying them, if you know what I’m saying. If you actually attempted to keep things casual (fuck buddy situation), when you would be apart, you both would be painfully missing each other which comes as a surprise.

Extra messages: You both start to enjoy simple mundane things in life, something you rarely did before. Marriage is also possible, but for both of you it will be “How did I get to this?” moment lol. They’re such a smarty-marty and you both find each other SO attractive. I guess they are the leader and you are their right hand man (again, some work situation or sth like that). For some of you, you are both working in some law-related profession, or came from Harvard (random I know, but true). It may even be a past life connection (confirmation on you being soulmates). You might be meeting during winter time.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

ENHYPEN Sunghoon Mafia Special

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: married life with mafia boss sunghoon.

word count: 2k

warnings: violence, mention of fight and blood. (tell me if i missed something)

important note📎: if you haven’t read the one shot about park sunghoon as mafia, you have to read it first before reading this. you can find there fic › here

note📎: this is super short! i don’t know if this is the kind of special chapter you are expecting, but i hope you like it. the names that will be mentioned here are totally unplanned and on the spot. don’t expect too much, but let me know about your thoughts! this special chapter is not that violent. lmao, anyway have a nice day/night. i love you! 🤍

“How do you think will you export these stuff without getting caught by the authorities?” Sunghoon raised one of his brow strictly at one of his employee when they presented this proposal for him.

They glanced at each other worriedly, he can see through those eyes how they’re very anxious about this report. He can see that they’re prepared. Base on the way their report looks like visually, it doesn’t seem rushed. But they are too scared to say one wrong thing in front of him. That’s one thing his employee will always find hard. He’s too intimidating for them.

“U-Uhm,” the one in the middle says. He gulped hardly, “We w-will...” he can almost see his sweats from his chair.

Sunghoon sighs and tilted his head, “Do you have a plan or not? You’re wasting my time.” he spats that drained the color out of his worker’s face.

“I’m s-sorry, Sir.” he stuttered and was about to talk again, but someone interrupted.

“Don’t you think you’re scaring them too much, Mr. Park?” everyone’s attention darted at the door when they heard you talk. You can see the relief over their faces at the sight of you.

Sunghoon’s eyes softens when he looked at you. He stood up and walks over you right away, taking you over his arm for an embrace. “Love, you’re here.” he mumbles and placed a kiss at your neck once.

You chuckled and caress over his hair then waved over his employees around. They all waved back with relief. The sight of you clearly means that they can finally breath and get away from the boss' wrath.

You pull away from his embrace to cup his face and place a kiss at his lips. It was just short, but enough for Sunghoon. He smiles a little then stared at your face for a while before he leans again for another smooch. After giving affection, he guided you towards his seat and he sat down. He ordered one of his men to drag a chair for you.

His hand possessively wrapped over your waist and he dropped a kiss at your shoulder blades. You grabbed the folder in front of him and read the proposal. Sunghoon’s attention is now darted at you, the meeting all forgotten. The employee in front looked more relaxed now that you are the one talking and asking about it. He executes his report pretty well.

“There,” you smiled at him. “That sounds a good plan. What do you think, Mr. Park?” you glanced over to your side and saw how his soft eyes are darted at you.

He smirked and leaned closer to you to whisper something, his lips grazing your ears slightly. “I think you look so hot, Mrs. Park.” he mumbles that made you blush hardly.

You elbowed him slightly and pouted, “Hoon, focus.”

He chuckled and leans away before facing his employees, now his cold stern face is back.

“Yeah, I think that’s good. Everyone dismissed.” he ordered and they all bowed then followed what they told. They all felt relieved that the meeting ended well, and that’s all thanks to you.

Sunghoon then turns his head at you when they all left. “How are you, my love? How’s the trip with (jw’s y/n)?” he asks curious while caressing your waist gently.

You smiled, “It was fun! But I think the trip was short. That’s okay, because I miss you and Sin already.”

He smirked and gave you a peck on your lips. “We missed you too.”

You smiled and rests your head over his shoulder. “Speaking of that boy. What do you think is he doing right now? I hope he’s behaving at school.”

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders off with a smirk, already doubting if your son is behaving. He didn’t said anything and just leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the children chants altogether while crowding two other kids who's fighting. One of them hovering above, the other on the ground and trying to shield himself from the boy's punches.

“Sin!” a beautiful girl wearing a cute bow came rushing towards the commotion. She looked so worried and was about to come closer to it, but a hand stopped her.

She glanced towards the boy who's staring coldly at her. “Jahan! What are you doing? Stop him!” she exclaimed, sounding frustrated.

“Don’t come close Alana or else you’ll get all dirty.” he says in a bored tone before pointing his chin towards the chaos.

Since they were fighting at the ground, dirt are now all over the two boys. None dared to meddle and stop them from fighting. No one will ever try to get in between. Specially if its Russin Park. They don’t want to mess with him.

“Where’s my brother? Ask him to stop him!” Alana panicked and glanced back at Sin who's now shamelessly beating up his classmate.

Jahan shrugged his shoulder off, completely unbothered. Alana groaned and shoved away his hold off when she realized he’s useless. She rushed closer, but kept enough distance.

“Russin! I said stop already!” she shouted that halt the boy's fist mid-air.

He looked over his shoulder and when he saw how terrified she looks, he clenched his jaw and slowly calmed down. He looked back over the boy beneath him. He’s almost unconscious, nose broken and eyes swollen from all the punches he gave him.

Sin smirked at him then scoffed, “Remember to not mess with me.” he said and stood up. He kept his stares at the poor boy.

“Stay away from Alana.” and he kicked his feet slightly.

He turned around and walked towards the girl. He kept his stares at her. The world suddenly felt blurry, all that matters now is her. Alana Park. He don’t understand anything. He’s too young to know anything about love, but one thing’s for sure. He don’t like sharing her.

Even before he can say something, their guidance counselor arrived the scene and called him over the disciplinary office. He groaned and left with no choice but to go.

“This is the third time this month, Mr. Park.” the stress over the tone was evident. He seemed mad, but Sin didn’t give any care. Even if he is mad, he knows he won’t do anything to him.

“Your father is on his way here now.” he starts. Sin didn’t show any emotion and just kept his bored look on his face. “Together with your mother.” he added that caught his attention.

“What?” now, he seemed alarmed.

His father is okay. He can just reason out with him, but his mom? She won’t spare him at all. She will surely ground him because of this. He lets out a groan and walked outside after getting dismissed.

“Dude, seriously? You should stop getting into fights!” it was Jace. Alana’s twin brother. The two of them are his Uncle Jay’s children. One of his father’s good friend.

“Where were you even?! You should’ve stopped him!” Alana seemed stressed still. Sin eyed and watched her carefully. A smile slowly appeared over his lips when he saw how worried she looked.

When they met eyes, she quickly shoot him glares. “What are you smiling at?!”

He shakes his head, but still smiling. “Nothing.” he mumbled and walked closer to carry her bag for her.

“Where’s Jahan?” she asks her brother after she lets Sin carry her bag. Jahan is the son of their Uncle Jake, also one of the good friend of their Dads.

Jace shrugs his shoulder, “Probably taking a nap at the library or something.”

“Russin!” they all turned their heads at that voice.

It was you, together with Sunghoon. The look on your face says it all. It was enough to make Sin worried. Alana and Jace greeted you before you finally made it close to your son. You gently grabbed his chin to check his now bruised face.

“Look at you!” you scanned him and your heart almost fell at the sight of blood stains at his uniform.

“Look at your uniform!” you added.

He sighs, “Its not my blood.” he says.

You shoot him glares. “And is that suppose to calm me down?” you were hysterical. Not that this is the first time your son got caught in this situation, but as a mother, you think you will never get used seeing him with bruises and blood stained clothes.

You and Sunghoon are blessed to have a son. You love him very much, but he’s very hard headed and a trouble maker. He takes after his father. Too much, that you want to feel upset because he took nothing from you when you’re the one who carried him for nine months! This boy is a splitting image of his father.

“You are seriously grounded, young boy!” he expected it already.

“But Mom—”

“No buts! We’ll talk later.” and you turned around to go with Sunghoon inside the office.

Sin groaned and sat down.

“Serves you right for causing trouble.” Alana mumbled. He glanced up at her but he just smirked.

“It was worth it.” he says that made her frown even more.

“Whatever! We��re going home now. Let’s go Jace.” and she grabbed her things from Sin’s hold.

Sin chuckles and even before she can walk far, he calls her again.

“I’ll call later.”

“I won’t answer!” she shouted that made him smirk.

“You can try, Alana.” and he nodded towards Jace who just salutes at him playfully. He even did a praying gesture that made him laugh. He’s so stupid.

“I couldn’t believe you! This is the third time you got into a fight, Russin. Its not going to be good for your school records.” you said really stressed and frustrated. You are now back at your home and currently scolding him.

“You are grounded for a month!” and you looked at him sternly.

Sunghoon’s just at the other sofa, silently watching. Russin seemed annoyed by his punishment and he stood up with a furrowed brows.

You can’t help but to feel a little amused. How he resembles his father so much is just crazy. No doubt that he’s Park Sunghoon’s son, no dna needed indeed.

“A month? But Mom—” he was about to argue but his Father talked.

“Russin.” one word and it was enough to shut him. He sat down and tried to calm down.

You sighed, “Talk to him, Hoon. I don’t know what to do with his temper! You two are so alike!” and you stormed out of Sunghoon’s office.

Sunghoon sighed, “How many times should I tell you? Talk back to me, but never talk back to your mother.” he sounded strict.

Sin draws in a sigh, “How come I can talk back to you, but not to Mom? Aren’t you the boss, Dad?” he asked really confused.

His father smirks, “Oh trust me. She’s the real boss.” and he crossed his arm then tilts his head over to the side.

“So,” he starts, “Did you give him a good beating?” his father added that made him smile wider.

“Hey, love.” Sunghoon greets you and approached closer to drop a kiss at your shoulder before hugging you from behind.

You are staring blankly outside of your windows when he entered your shared bedroom. “Did you talk to him?” you asked still very worried of your son.

He smiled, “Of course. I gave him a good scolding.”

Sunghoon nearly laughed, but he stopped himself. He doesn’t want you to now that instead of scolding your son, they both talked about it and he even ends up giving advices for him for next time. Of course, you don’t have to know about it. Its between them both. Father and son secret.

You sighed then glanced back outside the window. “Do you think we should set him an appointment? His temper is really getting worst.”

Sunghoon chuckles, “Nah, Sin doesn’t need it. Its normal for his age to get into fights.”

You furrowed your brows, “Normal? He’s just 11!”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“And Jahan's the same age as him but he’s always in good behavior.” you added, mentioning Jake’s son.

Sunghoon smirked, “Jahan is just different from our son. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

You stared at his eyes and slowly calm down. “Okay.” you sighed. “I can’t believe he did that because he doesn’t want other guys lurking around Alana. He’s so possessive.”

Sunghoon chuckled again this time. You squinted your eyes at him, “Seems like he got it from someone, don’t you think?”

Your husband smirked, “Should we set their wedding? I’ll talk to Jay hyung.” and he leans over to kiss you.

This time you chuckled, “Jay oppa will go crazy, baby. He won’t let go of his princess that easily.”

Sunghoon smiled, “For sure.” then he kissed your lips.

“I love you, y/n.”

You pouted and cupped his face, “I love you more. You and Sin are my world.”

Sunghoon placed feathery kissed over your neck then chin, until his lips came near yours. “I love you even more. I love you two so much.”

main master-list

mafia boss master-list

permanent tag-list:

@purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @moonlightisland @rubyanne @studioreader @map-of-border @edensgardenn @kyutiepeachy @simpforniki @hwangjangmi @crjwon @jvngw0n @herasalvatore @moonsclover @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @yeoungie @nyfwyeonjun @hime98 @hiqhkey @axartia @acciomylove @chareadingpurposes @nourhan-8 @drunkjazed @soobin-chois @rcveribin @person-standing @yizhoutv @nikipedia07 @minamoons @one16core @love13tter @dreamyenskz @ddeonubaby @mymeloem19 @aeyeree

[mystolli]

## . . . BABY I’LL STAY, HEAVEN CAN WAIT

𖦹︎ ayato x gn! reader

𖦹︎ genre: nsfw themes (undressing, making out)

𖦹︎ a/n: be grateful i didn’t take this opportunity to have faceless ayato make an appearance ☠️ also sorry this is so short guys, but i intend to be writing some things for kaeya’s bday 🫶

ayato has many, many workers, but he takes a special liking to you.

whether it’s unnecessary touch or flirtatious conversations that never extend past his eyes scanning you up and down, you both know there’s something palpable between you two. you’re his favorite and everyone knows, even if it’s not acknowledged. he calls on you to pass along important information, requests your presence during his meetings and conferences, and even speaks to you when there’s no work to be attended to.

which is why, of course, you’re called to escort him back to his room after he returns from a long night at a luxurious gathering hosted by one of his many business associates.

you shake your head as you sling his designer coat over your arm, turning to ayato. he’s most definitely tipsy. there’s a slight sway in his stance, patches of pink blooming on his cheeks.

“i’ll escort you to your room, sir.” you say. a smile threatens to emerge on your lips, but you hold it down. he simply looks hotter than normal, despite his usually neat and tidy composure being stripped away. his tie is slightly looser, his hair a little more messy, his movements a bit unsteady in the most charming way.

as you hold his arm and walk him towards his room, you sense his eyes on you. you continue staring ahead, ignoring the butterflies pooling themselves in your stomach.

“where are you taking me?” he asks you, and you feel your heart race at the sound of his voice. it’s steady, as usual, but a bit deeper and less contained.

“your room, sir,” you reply. “i’m going to be getting you ready for bed.”

a sly smile appears on his face. “is that right?”

you nod and stare ahead, swallowing nervously and hoping he doesn’t see.

his room is dimly lit, the bed neatly made. you guide him inside, shuffling around to fix and straighten anything out of place, avoiding mentioning the obvious task you need to do.

“aren’t you going to undress me?” ayato’s voice comes from behind you, soft and almost a little breathless.

you try to form words, but you know the only thing that will come out will be embarrassing, so you simply nod. your face burns as you adjust a sheet on the bed, thoughts rushing through your head until you feel a hand on your shoulder.

you turn to see ayato standing before you, his half lidded eyes gazing almost sinfully deep into you. he raises his eyebrows a little bit, a small smile on his face. he holds the fabric of his tie, holding it towards you, almost like he’s asking permission.

you look straight ahead, too nervous to look anywhere else as you feel his chest under your fingers. you slip your hands under his collar to pry off his tie, removing it slowly and placing it on the table beside the bed.

you turn back to see him carefully watching you, a look of amusement spread across his features. your hands are slightly frozen and you hope he can’t hear your racing heart. he seems to notice your pause and smirks a little more. “go on,”

you nod quickly, moving your hands to his neck to undo the first button. slowly, you slip downwards, his white shirt opening more with each fumble of your fingers to show his undershirt.

you finish the last button and pull the material off his shoulders and over his arms, leaving him bare in his undershirt. you know what you have to do next, yet it seems so unavoidably sinful, so forward and unasked for. no matter what you do in this scenario, you worry your facade will crack open and irrevocable need and temptation will seep out. you reach forward, your breath maybe a little too quick and your cheeks burning.

he grabs your wrists. you look up at him, confused, only to see his eyes aglow with something sweet and smooth. “if your hands keep shaking, you’re not going to be able to take off my undershirt.”

you start to stutter a response, but he silences you with a doting look. “here, let me help you.” he murmurs, not breaking eye contact.

he holds your wrists, slipping your fingers under the soft fabric and upwards. your face heats as you feel his bare chest under your fingertips, grazing parts of him no other gets to touch. you slowly pull it off of him, leaving him exposed to the moonlight casting on the two of you. he brings you a little closer to him, moving your hands to the waistband of his pants. “mr. ayato--“ you whisper, because you both know you’re far beyond you referring to him by his formal title.

instead of replying with words, he cups your face and kisses you deeply, the taste of wine on his breath. he’s a little more ragged and sloppy than he usually would be, his hand lightly holding the back of your neck. he touches his tongue to your lips, asking for permission, before you let him in, the heat of both your bodies becoming one as tension is broken between you like a wave.

you finally break away for air, breaths heavy and high. you look down to see a noticeable bulge in his pants. he tilts your head up with his fingers, gazing into you with lust in his eyes. “you were so kind to help me undress. perhaps I should return the favor?”

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…” 

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head. 

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…” 

You raised your eyebrows before answering. 

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.” 

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there. 

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder. 

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?” 

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.” 

You scoffed. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?” 

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?” 

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?” 

“Bring me food?” You frowned. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.” 

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed. 

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.” 

“And you want to see me?” 

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…” 

“Office aide.” 

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…” 

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…” 

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.” 

Joel laughed. 

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.” 

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh. 

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office. 

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time. 

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table. 

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it. 

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all. 

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other. 

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him. 

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.” 

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?” 

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did. 

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said. 

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it. 

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…” 

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.” 

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.” 

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands. 

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate. 

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?” 

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.” 

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…” 

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.” 

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…” 

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.” 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off. 

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.” 

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…” 

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned. 

He scoffed. 

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.” 

“How long have you been working there?” You asked. 

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…” 

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.” 

“Do you like doing that?” You asked. 

“Not really.” 

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?” 

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him. 

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale. 

“Hey!” 

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.” 

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.” 

“So do it,” you shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?” 

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.” 

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher. 

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?” 

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.” 

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh. 

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers. 

“I know.” 

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said. 

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…” 

“Brad.” 

You glared at him. 

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.” 

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…” 

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…” 

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?” 

Joel waved you off. 

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…” 

 “Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did. 

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?” 

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.” 

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?” 

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.” 

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned. 

“What?” 

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.” 

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?” 

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!” 

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch. 

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?” 

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?” 

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.” 

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type. 

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.” 

You ushered them both into the hall. 

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours. 

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…” 

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students. 

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…” 

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…” 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…” 

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.” 

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…” 

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…” 

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.” 

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.” 

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.” 

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care. 

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the  extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face. 

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again. 

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end. 

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write. 

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could. 

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point. 

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied. 

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl… 

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.” 

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once. 

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page. 

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…” 

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.” 

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts. 

You answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation. 

Joel laughed. 

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.” 

You laughed back. 

“What’s up?” 

“Been thinking,” he began. 

“You?” You said. “Really?” 

“Shut up.”

You giggled. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.” 

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!” 

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…” 

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out. 

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?” 

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…” 

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now. 

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?” 

“End of next year,” you sighed. 

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…” 

“Finalize my divorce,” you said. 

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…” 

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked. 

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.” 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him. 

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

[melis-writes]

The Other Woman [Michael Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 5 – A Part of The Family.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 4 / Chapter Masterlist / Fanfic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

"Michael cares about you, don't forget that." / "Forget Kay. This has nothing to do with her."

With the Las Vegas gala approaching, you can neither get your mind off of spending the formal evening with the Corleone's nor do you hear the end of it at the Lake Tahoe compound. Growing closer with both Anthony and Mary who've begun to open up to you and enjoy your teaching, your career as the Corleone household's governess thrives and is noticed by Michael and Kay for different reasons altogether. Kay has slowly begun to doubt her parenting skills from observing you whereas Michael is no longer waiting for you to give in but making his first move. In the meanwhile, what you've learned about the Corleone family only further convinces you Michael may be living in Vito Corleone's legacy, but is nothing like the bloodthirsty mafiosi that killed your brothers. Patience between the sexual frustration mounting between you two will take you both to Las Vegas, but Michael intention isn't to be the center of attention at a gala his family his hosting–it's to make you his.

[WARNINGS]: Sexual themes & mentions.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Another chapter is finally here and an important one marking the end of this "slow burn" between Michael and Marina. 🤭💓 Michael won't stop to get at what he wants and he's no longer waiting for Marina to give in because he knows she can't in front of everyone and peering eyes, of course. 😳 Next chapter and onwards will be scandalous and promiscuous Michael's waited until the Las Vegas gala and he's going to make his first move, if it wasn't obvious in this chapter! 😈

Hired by the Corleone family as a governess, you relocate to the Lake Tahoe family compound, looking forward to your future in Nevada until you meet your employer—Michael Corleone. Your future is then ensnared only in lust and forbidden love for Michael since the beginning, and you find yourself yearning for a married man you can never have. Desire and passion clash with one another as Michael takes you to be his mistress—only having an exclusive sexual relationship with you while his sex life with Kay dies out. Knowing from the beginning you’ll never truly be with Michael and that your place in his life is worlds apart from Kay’s as the other woman, the love you have for him consumes you until it threatens to burn out everything you’ve ever had with Michael.

“I know you’re not used to these sorts of things,” Michael’s tone of voice is low and soothing, his words velvety as he speaks them so close to the side of your neck that you can feel his soft breath on you.

Your heart thunders in your chest from arousal and excitement coursing through you as you linger by the doorway of Michael’s office; refusing to step out and away from this man for as long as you possibly can.

“You will be,” Michael continues, taking a step closer to you and standing directly behind you, “as you get to understand my family name and the hospitality the Corleones offer.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe back, barely audibly as the scent of Michael’s cologne hits you again.

Michael gazes at your back before letting his eyes wander admiringly over your figure, the curve of your hips and the shape of your thighs clinging against your pencil skirt. “Stay by me throughout the evening and you’ll be fine—if it comes to that.”

You give a small nod, slowly turning around to face Michael as you speak to him. “As long as I’m not disturbing your evening.”

You cannot push away the idea of possibly being a burden to the Corleones on such a special evening and social gathering, seeming as if you constantly need to be watched lest you somehow act out of line or do something wrong in front of hundreds of wealthy investors and businessmen.

“Nonsense,” Michael affirms, looking you in the eyes. “You’re not a burden, you’re my governess. You’re my guest.”

You surprise yourself with how you’re able to step out of Michael’s office without stumbling over your own two feet after having that conversation come to an end.

The tips of your ears and your cheeks sting, burning with blush as all you can think is how Michael’s planning to have this evening be tailored to you and your comfort up to the point where he’s picked out your gown for the evening.

As you make your way out of the Corleone estate and back to your living quarters, you remind yourself that even if you think Kay knows Michael’s done such a thing, you’ll keep everything and anything that happens between you and Michael all to yourself.

‘Everything should be fine.’

 You don’t think Kay would mind too much but then again as you think it over, the idea of having your husband pick out an evening dress for another woman stirs a bit of jealousy inside of you that you don’t think Kay is immune to herself.

Maybe Kay would look too deep into it; perhaps Kay knows her husband isn’t the type of man to just “pick” out a dress for someone and since Kay knows Michael like the back of her hand and you don’t, the possibilities are endless.

Kay’s mind may first go to Michael being generous and picking out a dress for you simply because you forgot to choose, or he chose a random one simply for the sake of saving time for the order, but if it comes to overthinking Michael’s picked out an evening dress for you because he thought about what color adorns your skin and body perfectly and what he’d like to see you in… It would mean trouble.

There’s nothing going on between you and Michael that you’re entirely aware of for the time being, but even having the slightest bit of a crush on a man like Michael Corleone must absolutely not be given away or told to anyone.

If you let your fantasies and the beat of your heart delude you into assuming something more with Michael, you may find yourself outed to people for trying to flirt and be with a married man who seems all too unattainable to you even if he was a bachelor.

Nobody can know how you feel about Michael; not now, and not ever. You know your heart would be better off if he doesn’t catch onto how you feel either.

~

All throughout the week, the only thing mentioned back and forth again with excitement and anticipation is the upcoming gala in Las Vegas this Saturday.

Whether you hear it giddily from Kay or Connie whose been carefully curating the perfect outfit for the evening makes no difference; there’s a thrill sparking inside you when you think of attending your first black tie event with the Corleone family that more often than not blends in with the amount of nervousness you feel about it too.

“That’s what I’m saying!” You overhear Kay excitedly exclaiming to Sandra over in the kitchen. “The family has come so far. I’m honestly so proud of Michael, he does so much for us. All that’s mentioned in Reno and Las Vegas in the business is our family name, you know that? It’s incredible how we’ll we’ve done.”

Something tells you however that Michael hasn’t and most likely won’t be giving Kay all of the details about his or the family’s business but if it’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s just how powerful and influential the Corleone family truly is.

‘Michael Corleone is a hell of a businessman and a good one at that…’

The topic of the Las Vegas gala is all the more unavoidable the closer you are to Kay which is consistent throughout the day as you teach the children, quietly mark homework, and take a break while going through some paperwork.

Sandra, Connie, and Theresa both share the excitement and anticipation for the gala, but none come near the unmatched enthusiasm of Kay.

Of course, Kay’s experience is just as incomparable as her excitement for the gala as being Mrs. Corleone has its benefits and luxuries others won’t share or come close to having

Michael and Kay Corleone together are the hosts of the gala and all eyes and ears will be on them throughout the night above all.

“Hopefully we’ll manage to enjoy a good dinner together,” you hear Kay sigh, “I just know the minute Michael arrives, all of his business partners will do anything to get a word in with him first. They won’t want to leave him alone.”

You find yourself blushing at the mention of Michael’s name, no longer catching yourself or mentally scolding yourself for it.

You wish you can be the one holding Michael’s attention consistently throughout the evening as if it was up to you, you would want him all to yourself for the remainder of the event regardless of whose desperate to talk business matters with Michael.

As Kay’s conversation with Sandra fades off onto another subject, you brush the topic out of your mind and continue focusing on your lesson planning for the day.

You ensure you’ve double-checked your planner so there’s enough time in tomorrow’s lesson for enough repetition and homework check, but also sufficient time to introduce a new unit without all of it being overbearing in one lesson.

‘A final little test for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for piano should wrap up this unit before we learn another piece…’ Distracted, you haven’t realized that the estate has gone completely quiet except for a faint giggle coming from Kay.

Blinking, you sit up straight on the couch in the living room—expecting Kay or Sandra to walk in only to see Michael enter a split second later.

Your face flushes a shade of scarlet instantly from the blush stinging your cheeks, watching as Michael himself remains distracted by adjusting his gold watch over his wrist.

‘God…’ Your muscles tense up from arousal as you eye Michael eagerly, letting a swarm of butterflies rush over you at the sight of him.

Michael’s dressed in a wine-red dress shirt with the first three buttons undone, no tie, black dress trousers, matching leather belt, and white socks.

If you’d missed the sight of him for a few seconds longer, you’d have already picked up on his heavenly sandalwood and musk cologne filling the living room only adding to your sexual tension when you see a peek of Michael’s chest hair from his dress shirt.

Michael’s hair appears slightly damp as if he’s showered recently but a light layer of gel shines through his black locks, neatly slicked back and parted from the middle.

It’s obvious Michael has no intention to be dressed for business and professionalism right here and now, but his appearance is still sharp, and cleans up very well.

Just as Michael finishes clasping his watch over his wrist, he makes direct eye contact with you.

Your heart races in your chest as you give him a shy smile back; hoping to yourself out of embarrassment Michael didn’t notice you gawking at him the entire time before he looked over at you.

Only the thought of what it would be like to be held in Michael’s arms, nuzzle his neck to pick up that scent of cologne so close to you before beginning to kiss his warm skin and lead down to his collarbones takes precedence over your mind.

You can’t stop yourself from fantasizing about the man right in front of you, thinking, ‘God, what I would do to…’ You picture yourself unbuttoning down the rest of Michael’s shirt to kiss and lick up his chest; gladly getting down on your knees right away to undo his belt.

Only a brief moment passes as Michael begins to button up his dress shirt at the sight of you for the sake of being professional and not coming off as sloppy although Michael himself would prefer to show you more as well.

Michael gives you an acknowledging nod back to your smile before he exits from the living room, but the scent of his cologne remains as if his presence is still in here and so does the lingering feeling in your heart.

You can practically feel your heart aching and the sensation growing heavier and heavier upon each confrontation and conversation; you can no longer stop yourself from feverishly desiring this man nor do you want to.

‘Stop, Marina. Just stop… You’re doing this to yourself.’

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately trying to block out any thought and mention of Michael Corleone from your head for just one minute.

‘I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I did this to myself.’

~

[ 1 Day Before The Las Vegas Gala ]

Having wrapped up your last lesson before the Las Vegas gala, you spent the last bit of your day doing homework review with all your students to start with a new learning unit next week for everyone.

In the morning, you reviewed math and history worksheets with the Hagens and Sandra’s children, then had a private review session with Anthony as requested by his parents before now doing the same with Mary to end your day.

In the Corleone estate’s study room, you and Mary sit side by side at the center study desk, overviewing a math worksheet from earlier this week.

With the evening air setting in and light rain out, you can see the glisten of the compound’s security lights slowly rotating around the estates outside and enjoy the soft sounds of rain surrounding the estate.

“Anthony says it’s easy,” Mary pouts at the worksheet in front of her, looking at the multiplication homework.

“Maybe it’s easy for him, but not for everyone and that’s okay,” you give Mary a reassuring smile. “We all learn differently, don’t we?”

 “Hmm…” Mary peeks up at you, feeling somewhat relieved. “All the homework is easy for you, right Miss Marina?”

“You think it is?” A playful grin forms over your lips.

“Maybe,” Mary giggles, shrugging her shoulders. “Because you teach math really well.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, Kay made her way down the hallway and towards the study room just a few moments prior to pop her head in and take a peek as to how the homework review is going, only to remain in front of the ajar study door and out of sight instead.

Kay thinks to herself that she’ll enter the study room at the perfect moment and chime in on the topic of homework to see Mary’s progress face to face but without interrupting your review and explanations to Mary.

“Why thank you,” you give Mary a beaming smile, “I try my best, but believe it or not, I wasn’t very good at math when I was growing up.”

“Really?” Mary’s eyes widen in disbelief, “no way! How?”

Kay smiles, gazing at her daughter between the crack of the door as she continues listening in on the conversation, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“See,” you chuckle, “when it comes to a subject like math, once you know what you’re doing step by step, all the answers start to come to you and they begin to make sense. That’s why when we do multiplication homework like this,” you hold up the worksheet in your hands, “we like to see and write down all of the steps we took to get the answers for these numbers, right?”

“Right,” Mary nods, looking back at the worksheet.

“So it’s all about understanding and learning the steps first. Then you got it,” you set the worksheet back down on the desk, “and you already did so well on this, Mary. I’m proud of you. Even for the questions you got wrong here,” you gesture to the paper, “you tried, you put in the work and all your steps. That’s why we go through them now, right? So we can see where we made our mistakes and how we can correct them.”

“Yeah,” Mary giggles to herself. “It… It was fun!”

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes light up, “it was, wasn’t it? Maybe not so much the whole homework part, but—” both of you burst out laughing in unison. “But the learning was probably the most fun!”

“Learning with you, Miss Marina,” Mary adds, nodding happily.

Kay feels nothing but joy in her heart to see that sparkle in Mary’s eyes speaking for her enthusiasm and how she’s genuinely improving in her math lessons with you then and there.

“I’m very happy to hear that,” you can’t help the growing smile on your lips. “Actually, maybe you’re the first student to say that homework might be a little fun too!”

It’s when Mary exclaims, “Miss Marina is the best!” and gleefully leans in to give you a hug that the proud and joyful smile on Kay’s face begins to fade.

Kay moves her hand away from the study door, watching as you hug Mary back and say, “and you’re the best student!”

It’s not that Kay’s unable to show her own daughter affection or receive any in return—of course, Mary hugs her mother—but it’s the snuggling and the bubbly attitude of Mary’s she consistently keeps up with you and is more than comfortable in your presence is something Kay has had difficulty keeping up with her own children.

Feeling a sharp pain tugging at her and hating herself for letting a wholesome moment between student and governess hit this close to her own struggles, Kay bites down on the corner of her lip before turning back on her heel and walking away.

Mary and you haven’t noticed a thing, and it’ll only be another five minutes until the homework review is officially wrapped up and Mary skips off back to her room to get ready for bed.

As you begin to organize and tidy up the rest of your paperwork remaining on the desk, you hear a soft knock at the door and recognize that rhythm of knocking can only come from one person—Tom Hagen.

“Evening, Marina,” you hear Tom’s voice just a moment after. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” you look back towards the door, greeting Tom with a smile as he walks into the study and quietly shuts the door behind him.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tom says sheepishly, noticing the pile of paperwork over your desk.

“Definitely not,” you let out a soft laugh, pushing the paperwork in front of you toward the corner of the desk.

“Finishing up for the night?” Tom chuckles.

“Something like that,” you turn in your chair to face Tom.

“How do you feel about tomorrow afternoon?” Tom asks, shifting the conversation over to the Las Vegas gala as you expected him to.

Both of you exchange an understanding glance, knowing the conversation would come to this.

“Well…” You open your mouth to answer before pausing and remaining quiet for a moment as you ponder what to say back to Tom. “I can say I feel strongly towards it.”

“Mm,” Tom nods, smiling at the floor. “I thought so, which doesn’t sound like a bad thing coming from you. It is your first time traveling to and attending a gala, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you confirm. “I’m a little anxious about it but excited. You know, I’m sure that same excuse has been made a million times over, so,” you laugh quietly to yourself. “I don’t know.”

“Sure, but that’s normal,” Tom replies back. “It’s a formal gala and this one only takes place every few years, especially on the anniversary date for the Corleone family business in Reno and Las Vegas.”

“Did Michael send you?” You give Tom a small smile, thinking this may just be last-minute reassurance on Michael’s behalf since you don’t expect him to come into the study to talk with you one on one at this hour.

Only a split second later do you feel embarrassment wash over you, wondering why you just asked Tom that.

“No?” Tom blinks in confusion, “I thought I’d come to check in on you.”

“Don’t think me ungrateful, Tom,” you giggle, “I get it. I really appreciate it. I just thought Michael may have sent you because he’s essentially said the same to me.”

“Of course he did,” an amused grin forms over Tom’s lips. “Which is why he’d want me to tell you that if you do have any questions or concerns, Michael would want you to voice it to him directly, not to me or even through me.”

“That makes sense,” you blush, glancing away.

‘If it’s an excuse to see and talk to Michael, I’ll take it…’

“Michael as I can already guess,” Tom rolls his eyes before laughing to himself, “wants you to feel as comfortable and welcome at the gala as you do here. Still think he’s intimidating?”

You glance back at Tom and the two of you stare at each other for a moment before you both burst out laughing.

“No?” you say through your laughter, covering your mouth.

“I know, I know,” Tom holds his hands up in surrender. “I hate to word it that way, but I just had to ask. I know Michael can be when he wants to.”

“Maybe so,” you lean back in your seat, “but I don’t really see it. I’m getting to know Michael better and understanding the kind of man he is as I am with the rest of the family.”

“Good,” a look of relief crosses Tom’s expression. “Then that’s all you need, hmm? We take very good care of our own, Marina. You don’t have to take my word for it,” Tom puts his hands into the pockets of his trousers, smiling at you. “And Michael cares about you, don’t forget that.”

~

“Michael cares about you, don’t forget that.”

Tom’s words linger with you long after he’s retired for the evening, and only then do they sink in and you find yourself begging your heart not to overthink it again.

Relaxing your muscles against your seat, you let out a soft breath and gaze around the study room, feeling accomplished to have finished your work for the day, planned next week’s lessons upon your return from the gala, and have all of your paperwork in order.

You’ve had a productive day at the very least, leaving you only to think about how tomorrow will be.

You know Esther went to bed early tonight, exhausted from keeping up with the children and you don’t blame her, but it leaves you without anyone to confide in tonight.

You’re still in the Corleone manor’s study after all but until the pouring rain begins to still or at least return to a drizzle, you doubt you can make it across the compound and back to your room without risk of catching a cold and being completely soaked.

‘No rush…’ You nibble on your bottom lip, pushing thoughts of the Las Vegas gala aside to think about tomorrow when it truly matters.

Brushing a curtain of your hair behind your ear, you stretch out your arms and let out a soft grunt as you rise up from your seat—deciding to indulge in a novel for a bit as you wait for the rain to settle down.

You move towards the bookshelves, stopping in your tracks for a moment to look at the sheer amount of bookshelves and selections remaining before you.

There are well over a dozen bookshelves on both sides of the study, placed for ample room so several people can pick and choose from one bookshelf at a time and so the study neither appears looking overcrowded or empty.

On each bookshelf remains small gold engraved labels stating what genre of books are on what shelf, particularly the books labeled under “history” further specifying years leading to language guides, fiction novels, first edition classics, non-fiction, and much more.

You blink at the selection, pleasantly taken back from so many choices that you almost feel overwhelmed at the thought of picking one novel when you could very well spend an endless amount of time in this study if you wanted to.

You walk over to one of the history-labeled bookshelves neatly organized with pressed newspapers, file folders, and leather-covered books next to well-preserved documents when you notice a label on the top shelf reading “FAMILY”.

You pause, wondering if this is a private section and if you should even be touching t in the first place.

Your eyes continue to wander over newspapers and documents on the top shelf as you gently pick through them with your finger so as not to cinch or damage any of the paper.

Starting at the very left side of the top shelf, common sense tells you that if there’s anything on this shelf—let alone in this study—that you’re not allowed to access or see, it wouldn’t be here.

The first few newspaper articles you touch over mention “CRIME FAMILY” with names of mafia families you’ve heard of and those you haven’t.

The names “Barzini” and “Tattaglia” stand out to you first and foremost, with the articles always mentioning the phrases “criminal underworld”, “boss”, or “big shot” to describe what you assume to be top-ranking mafiosi or the Dons of the crime families themselves.

Many of the newspapers you come across are dating chronologically from the start of the 1930s to all throughout the 1940s, consistently mentioning crime, the FBI, cases gone cold, or how the police are trailing them but it’s not until you get to 1946 that shock suddenly hits you.

You pull out a newspaper article with the front page reading: "VITO CORLEONE FEARED MURDERED: POLICE HUNT GUNMEN".

On the left side of the front page is a black and white portrait of Don Vito Corleone—Michael’s late father and on the right side, a photograph of the police and paramedics carrying a grievously wounded Vito in a stretcher.

‘Oh my God.’ You quickly set that article aside to read before finding another following it also dated in 1946 reading “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” next to a third article reading “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER”.

Setting those two aside with the article about Vito Corleone, the next article dated in 1947 you take out reads “THIRD MONTH OF GANGLAND VIOLENCE”.

‘There’s a pattern here…’ Moving towards the end of the shelf, you notice the coloring of the newspapers change—lighter and newer than the old articles you picked out.

Picking out the most recent newspaper placed last on the shelf, you find a blush hitting your cheeks immediately and almost dropping the article from your hands at the sight of a large black and white portrait of Michael himself on the front page; “MICHAEL CORLEONE: BUSINESSMAN THROUGH CORLEONE LEGACY”.

Gazing at the photograph of Michael, your heart rate begins to race in your chest once more—accompanied by a dizzying wave of butterflies.

Taking that last newspaper with the others you picked out, you look out towards the window and continue to hear the thundering rain.

The study door remains closed as Tom left it and you can’t hear any approaching footsteps, but then again you aren’t doing something you shouldn’t be, even if it may be embarrassing to explain to someone why you’re reading all of these old articles.

Funny enough, the recent article of Michael dated a month back would make the most sense, but not the others in your hands that you’re curious to read and learn more about.

“I mafiosi non sono tuoi amici. Ti useranno e poi ti uccideranno.” (Don’t trust Mafiosi as we did. Mafiosi are not your friends; they’ll use you and then they will kill you.)

You remember your mother and father’s warning words to you after the deaths of your brothers as you take the newspaper articles back to your desk to read.

These articles are nothing but mafia territory and an explanation of it; you know very well who Don Vito Corleone was and the legacy behind the Corleone family, after all.

Taking a seat and leaning your arms down on the desk, you begin to read the article “VITO CORLEONE FEARED MURDERED: POLICE HUNT GUNMEN”.

The article reads that Vito Corleone was found shot five times in the chest at close range while he was out with his son Fredo Corleone at a local fruit market.

It’s mentioned that Vito fell to his suspected demise in front of witnesses and passersby near the fruit stand who fled in terror.

Fredo Corleone—Vito’s son and on scene—was reported to be terrified beyond words; in a state of shock, sobbing and helplessly wailing over what he believed to be his father’s corpse.

Fredo was found by the police covered in his father’s blood and pleading with the paramedics and police officers to help.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, disheartened by what you’re reading.

Fredo is Michael’s older brother and you’re bound to meet him tomorrow as well—hearing from Kay that Fredo’s been in Hollywood for the past two months with his wife, famous actress Deanna Dunn who will also attend the Las Vegas gala.

‘This must be Fredo…’ Flipping the page, you see a somewhat blurry photograph of Fredo sobbing on the sidewalk with his face in his hands as Vito Corleone is taken away in a stretcher by paramedics.

The rest of the article continues to describe Vito as a “hot shot underworld gangster”, although such terms aren’t unheard of to you, especially growing up in Hell’s Kitchen.

The suspected gunmen are being investigated—the article states—and Fredo was also hospitalized due to his state of shock.

Lastly, before the article comes to an end, it mentions Vito Corleone is reported to be in critical condition and it’s not certain if he will make it or not.

The newspaper ends by saying this may be the start of violence as you or anyone else reading this article could have figured out since it’s all too common for full-blown mob wars to start when someone chooses to target a Don.

‘That’s a complete declaration of war, but were the police truly investigating?’ You assume that Vito must have had the police on his payroll for that to even take place.

‘And what about “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER”?’ At first glance of the front pages, you don’t recognize any correlation from the two newspapers but from their placement alone on the bookshelf, you know they must be related somehow.

As you read through both—comparing and contrasting dates and events noted in the articles as you go—you realize the dates of each article are just a week apart.

“POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” was almost stuffed between “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER” on the shelf and revealed all of these events occurred within a week of each other.

The articles tell you that at a small, family-owned, Italian-American restaurant called Louis Restaurant, police Captain Mark McClusky was killed.

The article details that McClusky was shot once in the neck and then in the forehead at very close range and that he had been with a businessman named Virgil Sollozzo who was dining with him.

Sollozzo was also killed alongside McClusky; shot twice in the head which is suspected to be immediately after McClusky and both perished together at the dining table.

“My God,” you mumble to yourself, blinking at the headlines.

Naturally, it makes sense to you that one of the Corleone men—most likely a buttonman considering the stakes and killings done in a public restaurant—must have done this.

‘Does it have anything to do with Vito Corleone being shot? It must be. It has to be for revenge.’

When your eyes gloss over the next newspaper article reading “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” immediately tells you this police Captain McClusky himself was directly involved with the mafia and the dates can only further reveal it must have been either for Barzini or Tattaglia.

Those are the only two mafia families you’ve heard of that have corrupted themselves with smuggling and selling narcotics and you can already guess what a wide-scale scandal this headline must have created.

It makes all the more sense why a man like McClusky and Sollozzo would both be killed, especially together.

If it’s one thing you know about the mafia, it’s that they will not kill an innocent person deliberately; considering the mafia family at hand upholds Sicilian mafioso traditions and customs.

Mafia families have no room to appear anything less than decent and proper, lest they risk exposing their own corruption and members to law enforcement and the public eye.

With two shots in the head a piece—just like how your brothers were gunned down—you know Sollozzo wasn’t collateral damage; he was a target just as much as McClusky was.

Picking up the article titled “MICHAEL CORLEONE: BUSINESSMAN THROUGH CORLEONE LEGACY”, you sigh in relief to see the article has nothing to do with the others you’ve read.

Dated just a month ago, the up close and personal portrait of Michael on the front page has your heart racing and begging for you to stop gazing upon it again and again.

Turning the page, you immediately begin to read the article that explains to you how Michael Corleone, son of underworld bigshot Vito Corleone is a successful businessman on his own terms and by his own hard work and gain.

Vito Corleone himself may have been infamous but was also a respected man, and aside from generational wealth, Michael further gained a positive and lucrative reputation and opportunity for the Corleone family following Vito’s death.

Unlike Vito, the newspaper states Michael does not involve himself in bookmaking, racketeering, or other forms of crime found brewing n the mafia’s hand but invests in businesses, stocks, casinos, hotels, and resorts.

The article also names that the most successful and booming hotel resorts owned by the Corleones are the biggest ones in Reno and Las Vegas and that the Corleone family plans to continue expanding.

Michael’s stated to be very successful in all of the best ways possible building off of his father’s legacy, and is also noted to be a multi-millionaire who married his college sweetheart—a woman named Kay Adams Corleone—in 1951.

With the mere mention of “college sweetheart” alone, you find yourself frowning without even being aware of it—once again feeling a sting of jealousy hit you.

Reading past the part that says Michael and Kay have two children with each other, you’re just about to set the newspaper down and organize all of them to put them back on the shelf when you notice you left one article aside without touching it.

The last newspaper you set out has a bold headline reading “THIRD MONTH OF GANGLAND VIOLENCE” and when you pick it up, it details that over three months of violence ensued between the Corleones, Tattaglias, and Barzinis but even the newspaper has worded such “conflict” in a crafty way so as not to state it explicitly.

This article appears to be the next one chronologically dated after “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” and stresses that a bloody mafia war has cost the families in lives and millions with no sign of stopping or being sidetracked.

It’s only when you reach the very end of the article do your eyes widen in shock as you clasp a hand over your mouth.

The last bit states the eldest son of Vito Corleone and his protegee—Santino Corleone—was assassinated by what is suspected to be the Barzini family.

“Jesus…” You remember Tom briefly mentioning Santino, his, Fredo’s, and Michael’s eldest brother but from the looks of the article, it’s very apparent to you that Santino was a full-on mafioso and completely involved in all activities of the family.

You know you should have no pity in your heart for the death of any mafioso, but you can’t help yourself but feel empathy for Santino Corleone’s death even though you’ll never meet him or understand the man he was behind his criminal activities.

‘He was a Corleone too, after all.’

Finally setting down all of the newspapers before you in a neat pile, you take a deep breath and rub your sore eyes.

Your gaze meets up with the locked door of the study once more as you mentally remind yourself that you’re not doing anything “wrong” or “snooping” but that what you just did actually benefit you in learning more about the Corleone family on your own terms.

Everything you’ve just read may have explained the bloody mafia history behind the Corleone family name amidst others, but nothing shows you Michael is or was ever involved.

The article revolving around Michael practically sings of his praises, saying Michael is a young, witty, and cunning businessman who holds the reigns of the Corleone family and leads it to success.

Yet again, you have no second thoughts about Michael, no doubts in your heart about his integrity or honesty and you believe and trust in Michael to be a good person.

You want him to be and you trust him to be, just the way you trust Michael to show you that side of him to you tomorrow.

~

[ Next Morning ]

With the excitement ringing through the compound coming from the Corleone women up early to have bodyguards and chauffeurs begin packing their bags, you momentarily went into a panic thinking you must have slept into the afternoon.

Recognizing it Sandra, Connie, and Kay’s anticipation put them in a rush to get packed and ready, the first thing you do in the morning after refreshing in the bathroom and pulling on a simple shirtwaist dress is putting your one piece of luggage outside and next to Kay’s three to be loaded into one of the cars.

By the time you’re out to set your luggage down, Kay and the others are back in shouting hairstyle and makeup suggestions back and forth to each other to get it all done before the afternoon.

You smile to yourself, turning around and squinting your eyes up at the warm sun soaking over your skin. You know you won’t be spending half as much time getting glammed up for a plane ride to Vegas and that you’ve got ample time in your day to get ready.

Just as you’re about to turn back on your heel and head back to your living quarters to properly begin to get ready you hear Michael’s velvety voice calling for you from behind.

“Good morning, Marina,” you hear Michael speak as you stop in your tracks and suddenly you feel almost bare and hardly semi-presentable before him.

‘Oh my God.’ With instant reaction, your muscles clench from arousal in the presence of Michael—eagerly gazing at the new tailored, three-piece, black and silk Italian suit he’s wearing; black silk tie and gold cufflinks.

Michael’s hair is gelled back and parted through the middle neatly; not a single hair loose nor a wrinkle in his suit with all the awareness you’re not able to get your eyes off of him even if you wanted to.

“I hope you slept well,” Michael’s eyes meet yours as you turn around to face him; briefly admiring your natural beauty under the glowing rays of the sun.

‘This man… I swear.’

“Michael,” you breathe back, smiling at him. “As well as I could. I hope you have as well.”

Michael gives you a nod before gesturing his hand towards a bodyguard approaching from the other end of the compound, pointing towards your luggage in specific—not Kay’s or Connie’s.

“Thank you,” you whisper to the bodyguard who gives you an acknowledging glance before taking your luggage to pack next.

“It doesn’t hurt to be proactive and pack for this afternoon, however,” Michael glances back towards his and Kay’s estate. “Rest assured we’re still leaving at our planned time; no sooner, no later.”

“Right,” you chuckle. “I was just going to head back and get ready my—”

“ANTHONY! Anthony!” You hear Kay cry out from the estate in a hurry. “Sweetheart, don’t forget your tie! It’s not put on right! Come here, please.”

“Well,” Tom’s voice chimes in as he exits from the Corleone estate. “At this rate, we’ll all be ready by the afternoon. Hi, Marina.”

“Hi, Tom,” you give him a small wave, “are two cars taking us?”

“That’s right,” Michael nods.

“We might actually be back in three if…” Tom cringes, giving a short shrug. “If Fredo is bringing Deanna back to stay with us for a bit.”

Although you can tell Tom is more than just mildly irritated by the idea, you see Michael’s expression hardens at his suggestion but he doesn’t react further.

“Not something you look forward to?” You break the momentary silence falling in between you three.

“Uh,” Tom scratches the back of his neck, “I suppose not. Miss Dunn can be a handful and well, so can Fredo sometimes. You’ll see.”

Michael takes a step closer towards you before you three look back up towards the Corleone estate to see the front door burst open and Anthony snickering, rushing out with a loose tie over his neck and a helpless Kay following after him.

“Anthony, seriously!” Kay huffs, “Anthony, this isn’t funny! Get back here!”

‘Ah, Anthony…’

You notice as Tom grins and gestures towards Anthony. “Kid’s full of energy, what can you do? I’ll get him for you, Kay.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Kay sighs in relief, looking back over at Michael who redirected his gaze to yours almost immediately.

“Marina?”

“Yes?” The scarlet blush over your cheeks deepens.

“Walk with me,” he gestures, turning his back on Kay and the estate.

Nodding, you walk up closer to Michael and remain by his side as he leads you away from his estate and further back toward your living quarters, barely having acknowledged Kay in the midst of all that.

Kay blinks in confusion, watching Michael and you walk away together but from the exhaustion of keeping up with Anthony and hearing Mary calling back to her whining a bow fell out of her hair, Kay can’t keep her thoughts straight and think much else of it.

Michael doesn’t need to pull you away or talk to you privately, he simply prefers to.

“You’ve packed everything you need?” He finally asks you once you’re both away from anyone else’s hearing distance.

“Mhmm, everything’s good to go,” you reply back.

“There will be something else when you arrive at your hotel suite in Vegas,”  Michael tells you.

“Something else…?” Your eyes begin to widen with curiosity.

“You’ll see when you get there,” Michael makes direct eye contact with you. “Kay tells me you have everything you two ordered…”

‘Ordered. You were the one who picked out that dress for me…’

“It’ll be ready in your suite as well when you arrive.” Michael finishes his sentence. “That’s all.”

‘What?’

“Right,” you nod back—the smile on your lips growing. “And thank you again for that, Michael. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You can thank me by wearing it,” Michael replies—surprising you with his response instead of saying “You don’t need to” or something similar when he hears you thanking him again and again. “I want to see you in it tonight.”

“Of course…” From Michael’s words alone, the arousal pumping through you feels as if your pussy has a heartbeat of its own despite your mind begging you not to take Michael’s words the way your body craves to.

“Is there anything else I can do to make your experience more comfortable?” Michael asks, putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers as you begin to approach your living quarters.

“I’m sure there’s a million more questions I’d like to ask but none of them come to mind,” you admit, sheepishly. “Knowing me.”

“Then as I’ve requested, stay close with me tonight,” Michael comes to a stop, facing you. “And then I’ll know.”

“I…” Blushing furiously, you give your head a small shake. “I know we talked about this and—”

“We did,” Michael reaffirms. “But I’m no longer suggesting it or offering it to you. I’m asking you to do it.”

“Wouldn’t Mrs. Corleon—”

“Forget Kay,” Michael interrupts, looking sternly into your eyes. “This has nothing to do with her. I want you there with me tonight, understood?” With your heart beginning to pound in your chest, you hardly have a moment to reply back to Michael before he adds, lowering his tone to a soft, ushered one, “Knowing you, I don’t know where else you’d want to be.”

[a-pastel-edgelord]

The First Dream

fuck it! I'm writing it and I don't care. May god strike me down for my hubris or something idk

cw: vomiting

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

A small campfire is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. It's blazing and bright. The world around him is pitch blackness, as if he sits in a vacuum of space. He can hear the sounds of insects chirping nearby, the sounds of rustling grass and undergrowth. The flickering flames eagerly run up and down through a modest pile of sticks and logs. There's a small cast iron pot bubbling above, suspended by a sturdy but hasty-looking structure of rope and bamboo. 

His stomach heaves as he tries to sit up and the world tilts on its axis. He turns on his side, away from the flames and vomits up pond water. He hacks, sputters and coughs until his throat is raw and the taste of stale sea water in his mouth is replaced by bile.

"Oh, good! I didn' think ya'd wake up!"

He looks up, someone in a worn kosode kneels a few feet away. The shifting light of the fire makes their features hard to make out; most of their silhouette is cast into shadow. How had he not sensed them?

"Who are you?" He grounds out, his voice sore from the expulsion of water from his stomach. "Where am I? What happened to the curse?"

"Oh, I took care of it, don't go worryin' 'bout it." They shrug good naturedly.

He scoffs. "You claim to be the one who exorcized a first-grade vengeful cursed spirit?" A likely story, only a skilled sorcerer would have been able to manage it.

"'Twas a special grade, actually, sir. S'how it did that strange drownin' from a distance technique. Gave me quite a fright too. It sure ain't the nicest thing to experience, I tell ye that." The easy-going rambling nature of the words, makes his jaw drop and a vein throb in his face all at the same time.

"You’re not one of those damnable clan whelps—from whence have you come here?”

“I’m no one of importance sir, just a wanderin’ sorcerer. Not  like yerself I dare say, you seem to be one of them proper ones—I could tell from yer clothes.” They nod emphatically to themselves. “‘Twas only right I stepped in to help. ‘S’not right to leave a comrade to die.”

His savior pokes a stick into the fire, it flashes bright for a moment and their face is thrown into sharp relief. This is a dream, he realizes. His breath hitches—it’s you. How long has it been since he’s seen your face? Heard your voice? The person from a lifetime he thought he’d long cast off like a snake shedding its skin, when he was a mere man. Just a mortal man. Before he ascended into a curse so powerful that it heralded in a new age of sorcery. His hands itch to touch you, to bury his face into your neck and never let go. To beg for… Absolution? No, he doesn’t desire your forgiveness, he never has. This strange desire for something hollows his gut and makes his mouth dry—it consumes him. 

A name long discarded trips off his tongue and the campfire before him is snuffed to nothing, the ambient noise of the night dies with it. The void swallows him, and he closes his eyes as it presses in around him. But wait he isn't alone. Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, the Disgraced One looks over his shoulder at a teenage boy. He's hovering in space with a stricken expression.

Get out of here, boy.

.

.

.

"Uh... Gojo-sensei?"

"What's up, kid?"

"You know how you said I should tell you if I like... remember something that's definitely not mine?"

"Yeah. Why? It happened?"

"Uh, yeah I think so."

"How lucky~ Well, Yuuji. Tell me everything.”

[lace-coffin]

How would the collector react with a very Neuodivergent m!reader who has a hyperfixation on things like barbed wire, eye, scorpions and centipedes (totally not projecting or anything) but anyways, after a few months Asa had kidnapped him he's picking up all of the curious looks and sudden happy moods at seeing certain parts of the hotel.

Asa Emory x Neurodivergent!M!Reader with a fixation on centipedes, scorpions and barbed wire

Hi thanks for the request! What’s the point in fanfiction if not projecting onto your fav characters? Hope u enjoy this!

Requests are open!

Asa was beginning to think something was different about you, something separating you from the other hoards of hopeless fodder projects in the basement. You’ve quickly become Asa’s favourite for reasons he can’t really place.

You tend to keep to yourself most of the time whether this is out of fear or general boredom he has no idea, only jumping in when a subject you care about is raised. Once you start it’s hard to get you to stop, not that Asa minds, it can get lonely in this dilapidated hotel in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, even for antisocial people like himself. So it’s nice to keep someone around to fill the silence.

He’s realised by now the younger man in his possession seems to light up when certain subjects are spoken about, it’s happened so many times in the same kind of environment that he’s been trying to dwindle down the variables to pin the behaviour down. Asa loves to dissect people hypothetically and physically so this is just the icing on the top for him.

“Come on pup, we’re seeing over the specimens today.”

Asa tugs the lead connected to your collar harder than necessary just to watch you stumble and try keep up behind him on all fours, being the merciful master he is, he’s provided you with knee pads as not to mark your pretty skin. How kind. Unseen on the other side of you a dumb sweet smile graces your owners lips, loving the way you gasp for air.

Asa knew the mention of the specimen room would have you excited, pace quickening on the other end of the lead as suddenly unable to wait. This he already had figured out, you love bugs and invertebrates,doesn’t matter what kind, however some clearly stood higher in the hierarchy in your brain.

Holding the dense metal door open for you to crawl through, you both enter into the dim room, the lights from the tanks and vivariums providing a warm and cozy atmosphere. Instantly perking up you come to a stop Infront of the masked man, moving to sit on your knees.

“Can I check the centipedes and scorpions please? I’ll do such a good job sir I promise!”

You beg, practically vibrating from your spot on the ground.

“Calm down pup, of course you can, just be careful and if you’re unsure of anything ask for my help, understood?” Your sir asks, holding your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to look at him.

“U-understood! Thank you thank you!”

———————————————————

Outside time was important for your health and important to Asa’s schedule, he loathes being made late or doing something in the wrong order, it can ruin his mood for hours.

Usually a walk around the perimeter of the hotel suffices a few times a week, this can be on or off lead, depending on how well you’ve been behaved. Unharnessed time is reserved for good boys who know where they belong.

If you’ve been particularly well behaved recently or seem like you could use a pick me up then Asa will walk you down to the garden-esque area out the back of the hotel. there isn’t anything specifically special about this area, overrun with weeds and over grown plants that are hard to see through, just as broken down as the rest of the building, however the perimeter is lined with barb wire. Just your typical cheap barbed wire to keep pets in and keep pests out.

To you it was more than that, you could wonder the edge of the garden for hours at a time, running your hands along the chainlink and gazing at the twisted patterns.

Sometimes he would ask you about, listening along contently as you ramble about barber wire, hopping from subject to subject as they enter your mind. This is how Asa loves to see you, carefree and expressing your passions out on the makeshift patio, it wasn’t a lot but it keeps you happy. Asa would do anything to keep his boy happy.

[adiduck]

WIP Wednesday

Semi-spicy scene for Operation Groundhog AU today ;) Enjoy!

-

Ice hears about the training for the next couple of days via dry, written reports from Cyclone, from Warlock, from Mav himself. Mav puts the twelve aviators from 2019 on hops running the first half of the course--goes easy on them with the distance from the ground and the time they have to reach the target.

Lieutenants Kazansky and Mitchell, however, he’s got running drills in their jets--basic maneuvers, dogfights, canyon runs well over the heads of the other aviators. They’re good, is the general consensus--Ice knows that already--but they’ve never been in an F-18E before. It’s smaller than they’re used to. Not faster, but more maneuverable. It has different tics, different eccentricities, and it doesn’t do that semi-disturbing shimmy that the Tomcats, beautiful beasts that they were, tended to do when you held the rudder too long on the bank. They’re making progress--fast progress--but they’re not really running the course.

Mav’s getting anxious.

At home, Mav whispers more details into Ice’s neck and shoulder at night, collapsing exhausted into a chair in Ice’s office or into Ice’s side on the couch or into bed beside Ice when he finally gets home--too late, exhausted, and starving. Lieutenant Mitchell is restless. Lieutenant Bradshaw hesitates to reach the speeds he will need, and won’t listen to Mav when he tells him to stop thinking so hard. Lieutenant Seresin won’t stay with his wingman.

He’s worried about Lieutenant Kazansky, too, but he seems less inclined to complain to Ice about it. Which, honestly, is hilarious.

Instead, he gets a lot of whining. “He calls me ‘sir’, and it’s so unimaginably weird,” Mav complains. “It throws me every time--not a good look. I’ve been a Captain for six years, Ice!”

“That does sound like a problem for you,” Ice croaks out. It’s been a good day--thanks to more ibuprofen and tylenol than he should probably take, but still. It’s rare that he has a voice this late at night, usually. He’s enjoying it, and very thoroughly ignoring Mav’s pointed looks to rest it. As though Ice’s voice can be stored up for special occasions or something.

Mav kicks him, and then settles back into Ice’s side to continue complaining. “It’s definitely not helping,” he grumbles. “I’m having a hard enough time getting these kids to respect me. And mini-me is not fucking helping with his bullshit.”

Ice smiles and doesn’t say anything. Mav, probably sensing that Ice is mentally making fun of him uproariously, kicks him again.

“It’s not my fault,” he grumbles. “I usually just get everyone to call me by my call-sign, but I can’t this time because there’s fucking two Mavericks running around, and really it’s more important they bond with him. And--well, you’ve never called me ‘sir’ in your life, and it’s bizarre.”

…Huh. Ice thinks about that a minute. “You know,” he says, and lets the hand that’s been tracing Mav’s shoulders--careful of the harness bruises--press down with slightly more intent. “If the issue is you’re not used to it, we could practice.”

Mav stills. “Practice.”

“Mhm,” Ice says, and shifts just a little, so that their legs slot together just slightly more securely, so that he can turn his head, draw his lips down Mav’s temple towards his ear, draw his fingers further down the lines of Mav’s back, pressed against his spine. “Reporting for duty, sir,” he whispers into Mav’s ear, and grins as he feels it go hot, as Mav’s face goes bright red and the position of their hips betrays a sudden, burning interest.

“Jesus,” Mav chokes. “You are going to kill me.”

“That’s not a no,” Ice says. “Sir.”

Mav lunges up and forward all at once, body dragging up Ice’s and mouth crashing into Ice’s mouth with an intent that burns straight down to Ice’s toes. Ice gasps, tilts his head back to give Mav a better angle, lets Mav slide his tongue past Ice’s teeth, deliberate and claiming.

“And what do I call you, in this scenario,” Mav near-growls, running his hands down Ice’s sides like Ice is his to touch, to hold--possessive and claiming and all the things Ice would never have admitted to wanting, thirty-some-odd years ago.

“Whatever you want,” Ice suggests, “Sir,” and gets kissed absolutely breathless again for his efforts.

“Well then, Kazansky,” Mav offers, Ice’s last name on his tongue like a caress. “Put your hands above your head for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Ice says, and follows orders, watches Mav’s pupils expand with a satisfaction that burns in his gut and extends up and out.

“Fucking Christ,” Mav says.

“Still weird, then? I’ll have to try harder.”

Mav leans forward and bites at Ice’s lips.

“You’ll have to try harder--” he prompts, into Ice’s mouth.

“Sir,” Ice snaps out.

And then things get a little less defined, for a little while.

-

Mav: I think we miscalculated

Ice: ?

Mav: I walked in, mini-you called me 'sir', and it was, ah, uncomfortable for VERY DIFFERENT reasons this time

Ice: Oh my god

Mav: I also refer to him pretty exclusively by his last name Ice what do I do

Ice: 🤣

Mav: THIS IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE TIME FOR EMOJIS

[gabriel-xander]

I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 3

[Scaramouce x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

{Also on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 3: Farewell From Snezhnaya

“Don’t forget to change your clothes to something lighter as you get close to Liyue.”

“[L/n]-”

“Try not to move around the ship too much, you don’t want to get seasick so quickly and so often.”

“[L/n].”

“Stay hydrated, too! You’ll get thirsty faster since it’s pretty warm in Liyue.”

“[L/-”

“A-And don’t get in unnecessary trouble! I don’t want you to-”

“-[Y/n]!”

Kazuki grabs your hands from where they were nervously tugging at the collar of your uniform. He was one of the few who have yet to board the ship since Childe has yet to actually arrive.

You’re nervous about letting Kazuki go. He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, joined at the hip since the age of 7. It’s not so much the fact that you’re scared to let him go, or scared that he might get hurt or-Archons forbid-die in Liyue. Kazuki is a strong fighter blessed with a Pyro Vision and is a skilled fighter with a claymore. He's more than capable of taking care of himself.

It’s just…

Kazuki is your person.

You two didn’t have your masks on at the moment, but not having it made you feel exposed and it caused you to look away from him.

“‘M gonna miss you, Nao.” You admit quietly.

The brunette smiles and pulls you close for a hug, “I’m going to miss you too, [Y/n]. I’ll try to send letters as often as I can, I promise.”

“You better,” You reply, clutching the fabric of his coat, “Or else I’ll go to Liyue myself to kick your ass.”

“Aw, just for me? Am I just that special to you, [Y/n]?”

“Shut up, Nao. I’d trade you for a sip of water.”

You two pull away from each other with a laugh, beginning to feel a little better about the departure.

You shiver when a particularly strong breeze rises up, but that shiver was from a sudden tension rather than the cold as your stomach drops to your feet. You immediately summon your claymore (You don’t remember what it was called, Nao had gifted it to you. Prototype… Archi? Archaic? Something like that) and hold it above your head just in time to clash against-

“CHILDE?!”

Childe used his Hydro to create dual blades that clashed against yours. He uses the leverage to push himself back, dissolving the weapons and creating a polearm instead. You send your claymore back into the aether and jump to the right when Childe throws the spear at you.

The spear dissolves and some of it gets on you, making you colder than you would’ve liked. Childe stands away, summoning his bow oh so casually.

“Lord Childe!”

“Yes, [Y/n]?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Permission granted!”

“What the fuck, dude?!!”

Childe laughs at you, doubling over while you just look at him confused. You’re literally just trying to exist but this ginger man really said fuck that noise.

“With all due respect, I don’t stand a chance against you,” You grin to mask your anxiety, “You’d kill me in a second.”

“Don’t talk like that! Not all battles’ purposes are who wins and who loses. In this case, the experience is most definitely the most important part.”

“?? Yeah, that’s cool and all but I still ain’t tryna fight you, Childe,” You wave your hands frantically as you start sputtering, “Pff-Uh-And anyway! Don’t you have a boat to board in like, right now??”

Childe laughs again and walks towards you, letting his bow disappear back into the aether. You sense the tension has left his body, so he’s probably not planning to attack but you stay on guard anyway.

The ginger stops right in front of you and pats your shoulder, “You have such a bright personality, [Y/n]! I definitely like this easy going side of you more than the facade you have for your boss. It’s refreshing to see someone as honest as you in a place like this.”

You clench your fists by your side and look away. You don’t want to be chummy or friends with anyone from the Fatui. Kazuki is the only exception for obvious reasons… You can’t allow Childe to be another exception as well.

“You’re also strong, [Y/n]. I can already see so much potential in you, and that’s not a bad thing. You can’t let someone like Scaramouche scare you into hiding that potential away. Only you can decide if you’ll use it for good or evil,” Childe smiles softly, “You’re a soft soul, don’t let the world or anyone else turn you into something you’re not.”

Your heart races from his words, praying to the Archons that he won’t be the cause of your sudden change of heart. It’s not as if you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive…. but you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive.

“Why are you telling me this?” You finally get the courage to look the Harbinger in the eyes, “You don’t even know me.”

But as kind as Childe is being to you (right now), his words alone can’t suddenly make all your problems go away.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I’d like to!” Childe laughs and pats your back, “You’re the only interesting person here! Honestly, it’s a shame I didn’t get a second meeting with you sooner.”

You sigh with exasperation. Childe is a type of person who goes after what interests him and stops at nothing until he’s satisfied. You suppose your potential friendship falls under that category.

“This is damaging to my reputation,” You say without any real bite to it.

“Reputation?”

“Yeah, of being a loner.”

Childe cocks his head to the side, humming quietly in thought as he crosses his arms.

“My Lord,” Kazuki (poor boy was third wheeling the whole time) steps up from behind you, “I got word that we have maybe a few minutes to board the ship before it leaves. It won’t wait for us any longer.”

Childe pouts ever so slightly, "Didn't I tell you to call me 'Liege' instead?"

You turn around and throw your arms around Kazuki’s neck, not caring for professionalism at the exact moment. You feel his arms go around your waist, squeezing you lightly for one last hug.

“You behave,” You mutter, “Don’t go picking fights. and don’t do drugs.”

“Yes, mom.” He groans.

“Ugh, don’t call me mom. You’ve seen me naked too many times to call me that,” You joked, but did you really?

“Mommy?”

“No.”

You went to pull away, but Kazuki squeezes you again. Your face morphs into embarrassment, not used to Kazuki showing you more affection than you show him. You pat his back and chuckle.

"Hey, come on. Don't get soft on me," You grin, "This is uh… ah-hahaha, 'is kind of embarrassing."

"Sh. Let me have this. Haa man… I wish I didn't have to go."

"Why do you have to go? You're not even his direct subordinate."

"Oh, that's because Kuzuzushi is my hype-man!" Childe says with a smile.

Kazuki pulls away with a heavy sigh, "It's Kazuki, My Liege."

"Wait-what do you mean he's your hype-man?" You ask quickly.

The brunette deadpans, "Are you only bringing me along to… hype you up??"

"Yeah! Isn't that great?"

HOOOOOONNKKK!!!

The boat's horn sounds loudly as the walkway is dropped, separating the ship from the docks.

Childe takes your hand and puts something on your palm. You don't get to see it since he moves your fingers to close it to a fist. He keeps that hand into his, smiling warmly while leaning his face close to yours.

It would've given you butterflies if you weren't consciously aware that this man was dangerous and has killed people before. Of course as always, the light never reaches his eyes no matter how sincere his smile was.

"Remember, [Y/n]. It's your life, and you get to decide how you use your own strength and power," Childe says with conviction, "Don't let people like Scaramouche scare you from being who you are. I look forward to seeing the type of person you decide to become when we meet again."

"I… Childe-"

"-My Liege, they're leaving without us! We have to go now!"

"Right! Let's go Kazuki!"

"It's Ka-actually, you got it right."

Letting go of your hand, the Harbinger and the agent run to the docks. Kazuki and Childe use their Visions to propel themselves into the air. Childe's Hydro almost immediately freezes due to the Snezhnayan weather. You see the ginger subtly lean towards Kazuki when they grab onto the side of the boat. Most likely because of Kazuki's Pyro Vision.

"Hype me up, Kazuki!" You hear the ginger say as he climbs up the side.

"Uhhh-FUCK IT UP, MY LIEGE!!"

"WOOHOOOO!!"

…

Boys will be boys, you suppose.

You look down at your hand to see what Childe had put there. You widen your eyes when you see it's one of his red earrings. You snap your head up to find Childe. He was already on the boat, safe and sound. You jog to the docks to get a closer look at the ginger who was watching you.

Sure enough, Childe was missing his right earring, the left one dangling from his ear almost mockingly.

You can't see the expression he's making, but from his energetic waving, you (correctly) assume he's grinning like an idiot. Kazuki was next to him, giving you the forbidden finger.

Fucker.

You're the only loser left on the dock, but you don't care. You watch them leave until you can't see people on the ship anymore, feeling a little warm from standing in the cold for so long.

That's probably a bad sign.

----

"Why the hell are you late?"

"I almost died of hypothermia."

"Well, cut it out. We have things to do," Scaramouche frowns as he walks past you, "I gave you the favor of seeing off your comrades before they left. But now break time's over, you're back on the clock."

You hate this. You roll your eyes behind your mask and follow him out the office.

"Do you remember where that camp was located? The one the Treasure Hoarders are hiding at?"

"Yes, My Lord. Would you like me to prepare departure for today?"

"Yeah, but don't bring anyone else. It'll just be you and me. Everyone else is just incompete-... What the hell is that."

You frown while tilting your head to the side, "Sir?"

"That's Tartaglia's earring."

That's right, you had put on the earring on your right ear on your way to your boss' office. You had pierced ears, but upon joining the Fatui, you stopped wearing accessories in case it got in the way.

You don't know what came over you. Scaramouche's hand had suddenly come up to your vision, reaching towards the right of your head. You took a step back, your hand coming up to block him with your wrist.

"..."

"..."

Scaramouche was staring at you with surprised eyes, and you look back with the same expression.

"I… Please, don't touch that, My Lord." You take another step back and lower your head, your hand dropping to your side, "You don't know where it's been."

You're dead.

You're dead.

You're still alive.

But you're so dead.

The Balladeer rolls his eyes with a scoff, continuing his walk, "I liked you better before you met Tartaglia."

Alsnxnchakjslsm????

"We're leaving in an hour, [L/n]. If you're not ready, I might actually kill you this time."

"Yes, My Lord."

ARGH!

WHY IS HE THE WAY HE IS??

[buglord-isaac]

Ghost helps Soap - Part 2

Ghost was drunk. Slightly drunk. More drunk than he ultimately should have been when going to do something so important to him. But this was going to plague his mind until he did it. He was angry. He felt a strong sense of injustice deep in his chest that Soap was such a caregiver and yet no one seemed to lift a finger for him.

He reached Soap’s door and knocked. When there was no answer, he pressed his ear against the door and listened. There were footsteps from inside the room. He knocked again.

“Soap.”

After a few seconds, Soap opened the door.

“Sir. What’s the latest?”

“The latest-“ fuck, was he really about to do this? He wasn’t often one who appreciated sleepovers. Eh. Fuck it. “The latest is that I want to ask if you’d spend the night with me.”

Soap smiled at him. “So you have taken a shining to me~?”

“Yes or no, Soap?”

“Yes yes. Of course.”

“My room. Be there in ten minutes.”

Soap nodded and gave him a light touch on the arm. “Aye sir. I’ll be there.”

Ten minutes gave Ghost enough time to rinse his face off and quickly wash his hair. Soap had seen his face before, yes, but he still wasn’t comfortable enough to make it an every day occurrence, so he put on a lighter sleeping version. He also dressed down into a lighter shirt and cargo pants. He had barely sat back on the bed when he heard the knock at the door.

Knowing it was Soap, he opened it and let him in.

“So, what makes you so keen to be in my company, LT? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I’m more worried about you.”

“Worried about me? Why would the Ghost be worried about me?”

“Call me Simon, Johnny.”

“Well I’ll be damned, special privileges? Special access to your room? You smell of alcohol, Simon. Are you sure this isn’t just because you’re drunk?”

Simon gritted his teeth and looked away. Johnny seemed to sense his anger and came closer.

“Hey, I don’t mind if you are drunk…”

There was worry in Johnny’s voice…

“Tell me something, Johnny.”

“Anything, sir.”

“Why is it that you help so many people?”

Johnny blinked. Ghost looked down at him and they made eye contact. Both pairs of eyes searched the other.

“Well- because they need it?”

“So you’re saying you don’t?”

“What-? I- no I don’t-?”

Simon growled and rolled his eyes. “Johnny…”

[alienguts]

Mother of Pearl (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce wants to take his relationship with Y/N more seriously and has a special gift to show her just how important she is to him.

Warnings: Fluff

Request?: Requested by anon

A/N: This one turned out shorter than I’d planned, but it’s just as sweet!

It had been eight months since Bruce and Y/N had decided to make their relationship official, but he couldn’t help but worry that he was moving too fast with things. He didn’t want to scare her off with his work, but she’d found out early into the relationship and constantly assured him that she was okay with everything.

The mansion, the money, the secret detective base underground, none of those bothered her at all. All she cared about was that she loved him and he loved her in return. And he did. 

So much it almost hurt.

Bruce wanted to take their relationship to the next level, but he just wasn’t sure how. He’d thought about asking the boys for advice, but they all loved Y/N so much that he knew their idea would be to propose to her and neither of them was ready for that.

And so, he turned to his oldest confidant and the person who always gave him the best advice, whether he wanted it or not: Alfred.

“Why don’t you just tell her that you want to be more serious with her, Master Bruce?” Alfred had said plainly.

“If only it were that easy,” Bruce sighed. “I want this to be special.”

“Then why not get her a gift?” Alfred said as he handed Bruce a steaming cup of coffee. “I know Ms Y/N isn’t necessarily a gift person but I’m sure she’d accept something special from you. Say it with diamonds, so to speak.”

A lightbulb went off in Bruce’s mind. Diamond would be too much, but another kind of stone would be perfect.

“Alfred, do you remember where we put them?” Bruce asked hurriedly as if he was worried the idea would leave his head.

“Them, Master Bruce?”

He could see the wheels turning in Alfred’s brain as he realised what he meant. His eyes went wide once he’d put the pieces together.

“Oh, them,” Alfred said. “I believe they’re in the safe in the study.”

“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver, Alfred.”

“Thank you, sir. But are you sure you want to give them to Ms Y/N?”

“I’m completely sure,” Bruce said as he set his coffee aside. “I want to let Y/N know how important she is to me, and they’re one of the most important things I can give her.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll love them,” Alfred said with a warm smile, the sight of his son happy filling him with light.

Later that evening, Bruce had arranged for them to have dinner in the Manor, after which he would give Y/N her gift. He felt more nervous than he ever had before, and he didn’t understand why. All he was doing was giving her a gift, but the importance of the gift itself was weighing heavily on his mind.

What if it was all too much for her and she wanted to end things then and there?

“Bruce, are you okay?” Y/N asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

It was time to pull the bandage off and do it.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said as he reached over the table to hold her hand. “There’s a reason why I asked you to come over tonight.”

“Oh? What is it?” She watched as he slipped his hand behind his back and pulled a square box out.

“I wanted to give you this,” he said and passed the box over the table to her.

Bruce watched her intently as she opened the small box and breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes lit up.

In the box lay a string of white pearls, shining in the low light. The chain looked old but well-maintained and she could see her reflection in the round stones.

“Bruce, is this…” she started to say but her voice trailed off.

“My mother’s necklace,” Bruce said with a nod. “I want you to have it.”

“This must be so important to you, why do you want me to have it?”

“Well, for the longest time my mother was the most important woman in my life, and now you are,” he said as he stood up and came to kneel next to her.

“They’re so beautiful,” Y/N said, holding the pearls up and rotating them so the light bounced off them.

“They’ll look even more beautiful on you,” he said softly as he offered to take them from her.

Y/N handed the necklace to him and turned around so he could drape it around her neck. She shivered when she felt his fingers brush the back of her neck and the cold stones lie against her collarbones.

When she turned back around, Bruce smiled softly at her.

“See? They do look beautiful on you,” he said and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Y/N leaned into his touch and her eyes drifted shut, just in time for a single tear to roll down her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she let Bruce pull her into his lap.

“No, thank you for letting me be in your life,” he said softly as he ran his fingers along her jaw and angled her face up to his.

He pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss and wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her body into his. They were so close they could have melded together as one.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “So much.”

“I love you too,” she said before kissing him back.

A feeling of warmth spread through her body, knowing that she had Bruce Wayne’s love in her heart, and now Martha Wayne’s gift around her neck.

[bubbleguppyyy]

Encapsulated in Time: Pt. 4

Bucky x fem! reader

~ I destroyed my mouth eating Captn Crunch while writing this ~

Story Synopsis: Bucky knew something was missing from his memories. Something important, something special. He had tried everything to try and recover what it was, but he never could grasp anything. However, he never expected to find those missing memories in a file and an old box of videotapes.

Her body was never found. The only trace left of her in the apartment was the crimson splatter of her blood on the curtain. 

All of her belongings had been taken, even the nails used to hang her paintings. The walls had been repainted to look brand new and the floor had been re-polished. 

Bucky had dropped the phone when Fury told him. Steve had immediately caught it and demanded Fury tell him what was going on. As he explained everything to Steve, Bucky slowly got up and made the familiar trek to the training room. 

Every step he took suddenly felt wrong, every bit of The Soldier draining from him. Suddenly, he wasn’t aware of any of his surroundings, he wouldn’t even know if someone was right in front of him. He suddenly felt like he was back in the 40s. He felt bare and alive, and he didn’t know what to do. 

The training room door slid open the moment he was in front of it. He immediately ripped his t-shirt off and grabbed a punching bag from the side of the room. Bucky watched himself in the mirror as his metal arm dragged the bag. His eyes narrowed as he walked faster to the hook. He barely got the bag hung up before he was throwing punches, knuckles immediately reddening from the rough material. 

Breath labored and a pair of knuckles cracked open, Bucky started to cry. Not because of his knuckles and not because of his arm. It was because of you. He had one job, all he had to do was kill you. He would’ve saved you from any misery Hydra would’ve put you through, but of course, he had to follow orders. There was no way you could’ve known the difference between the words. 

Bucky sobbed harder as he watched the blood from his knuckles splatter on the floor. Why did he have to be so weak when it came to you? Why did he immediately hesitate and switch out of The Soldier the moment he saw you? He should’ve told you the difference between the orders shoot and execute. Maybe then, all he would have had to do was find your gravestone, not your body. 

“Tell me, Soldat, when I give the order to execute, what does it mean?”

“It means to kill no matter what, sir.” 

“Good good, now, what does it mean when I give the order to shoot?”

“It means to just shoot, doesn’t matter where.”

“You’re getting better every day, Soldat.”

The bag flung off the hook, sand spilling out where it landed. 

Bucky gasped for air, throat constricting from the sobs racking his body. Everything hurt, his knuckles, his heart, his lungs. He couldn’t decide if he liked it better when he didn’t feel anything or when he felt everything. Nothing felt real anymore. 

Bucky slipped to his knees, his hands coming to rest in his lap. He turned a shaking hand over to look at his knuckles. They would need some ointment and bandaging but he would live. The glint of his metallic fingers caught his eye, subconsciously causing him to flex them. He watched as the metal plates shifted smoothly with his ministrations, softly smiling as he remembered something you used to do.

“Why do you always hold that hand?”

“Because it’s my favorite part about you. I mean, come on James, a metal arm is pretty radical. I know you don’t like the origin of it, but I think it’s one of the super cool things about you.”

“Whatever you say, dork.”

Bucky kneeled on the mat a little longer before he decided to get up and wrap his knuckles. He would most likely be healed by morning but Steve would kick his ass if he saw that Bucky didn’t wrap his knuckles beforehand. Grabbing his shirt on the way out, Bucky made his way to his room. 

Upon entering, he noticed that another file had been added to the top of the tape box. His curiosity threatened to send him off track but he quickly padded over to the sink to wash his hand. He needs to keep his mind on track. If he keeps getting sidetracked by the thought of you, he might just descend into madness. His routine was already destroyed. 

Slowly turning on the water, Bucky winced as it came rushing out onto the sensitive skin. He watched as the blood washed down the drain, the image of your blood splattering coming to mind. The pain in his hand subsided as Bucky started to daydream again. Different scenarios of what could’ve happened to you playing through his mind.

A knock at the door slipped Bucky out of his dreaming state. Noticing that the bleeding stopped, Bucky turned off the water and grabbed a small towel to dab over his knuckles. Another knock resounded, a voice coming right behind it. 

“Buck, open the door, I just want to check in on you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve’s overly worried voice. It reminded him of his mothers, always worrying he was overexerting himself. “I’m fine, ma, I promise,” he would say. 

“Friday, let him in and alert him I’m in the restroom and will be right out.” 

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes.” 

Bucky shook his head at the name programmed for him as he grabbed some wrap. He had tried to change it many times but Tony kept changing it back. At least it wasn’t Manchurian Candidate anymore. It only took Bucky threatening to destroy Tony’s CD collection before it was changed. Bucky huffed a laugh at that memory. 

Finishing up wrapping his hand, Bucky walked out of the bathroom to Steve pacing around the room. Bucky watched as the picture of you and him caught Steve’s eye. He went to pick it up but Bucky cleared his throat, causing Steve to whip his head around. Steve averted his eyes, knowing he had been caught. He quickly cleared his throat, covering up his reddened cheeks. 

“I just wanted to check up on you. You left quickly after Fury told you what he found. You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right? I’m always here for you, Bucky.”

Bucky just sighed and shook his head. He knew he could tell Steve anything but this was different. There was so much he still didn’t remember and so much he just wanted to keep to himself. Steve told Bucky all about Peggy back in the day but he also knew Steve kept some things to himself. He would understand if Bucky didn’t want to tell him everything 

“I know I can, Steve, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything as well. Once I know more, I’ll tell you what I can.” 

Steve gave him a small smile and nod, his mood lifting some. Bucky sat on the side of the bed and grabbed the new file. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning Steve to come read the information with him. Steve scurried over and plopped beside him, causing Bucky to bounce in his spot some. 

They huddled together and sat the file on each other's leg. Bucky took a deep breath, deja vu hitting him hard. Steve rubbed his shoulder, a silent encouragement. Grabbing the edge of the file, Bucky flipped it open and immediately read the first page. 

Encapsulated in Time: Classified

[081314]

Sebek Zigvolt (Vignette) – Dorm Uniform

Here is my translation of Sebek Zigvolt’s vignette from his Dorm Uniform card.

Spoilers below the cut!

Part 1

(Class 1-A and 1-D’s Joint Magical Defense Class: First Session)

(The school bell rings)

Ace: And there’s the bell. Sweet, all we had to do today was go over the intro for the assignment.

Deuce: Yeah. From what the professor was saying, this joint class will last for four sessions, and the assignment will be to use three different types of magic in order to take down some sort of target. Apparently it’s going to be, like, a puppet that moves around or something? Gah, practical assignments make me so nervous and this one sounds like it’s going to be tough. But I know we also have to give a demonstration in front of the class at the end, and there’s no way I’m gonna let my self look like a fool in front of everyone!

Ace: Sure, it might be a little tricky to pull off. But the hardest part of this thing is gonna be-

???: I REFUSE!!!!

Deuce: G-geez, that scared the crap out of me.

Ace: That super loud voice…

Sebek: Why must I join forces with you lot!

Classmate A: What do you mean “Why”?! Because it’s a group assignment, you- …. Ugh, how many times do we have to explain this to you??

Deuce: That’s Sebek from Diasomnia… sounds like they’re arguing about something.

Ace: Honestly, I don’t blame ‘em. The teacher choose our teammates for us at random, and now we’re gonna have to practice together with these guys and pull off the demonstration as a team or whatever. Ain’t nobody in this school’d be down for something like that. It’s a huge pain, and I ain’t happy about it either.

Deuce: I mean, yeah, it’s annoying… but if we don’t pass, we’ll get held back after class and given even more work to do. Now that would suck. I don’t think we have much of a choice but to play nice with our group members and get this over with.

Sebek: The day we shall receive our grades for this assignment happens to fall on a very special day for me… For you see, I have been tasked with guarding Lord Malleus all on my own on that day, in Sir Lilia and Silver’s absence. It shall be a great honor for me. It’s absolutely absurd they would dare penalize us for an unsatisfactory grade on such an important occasion! Nothing takes precedence over the young Lord, and I certainly will not have the spare time available to complete any supplemental work!

Ace: There it is. His precious “young Lord”.

Deuce: All he ever talks about is Draconia Senpai, huh. I get he respects him, but it can be really annoying sometimes. It’s like the guy’s on a completely different wavelength than everyone else…

Ace: Heh, check it out. His team members are already getting turned off by his attitude. Seeing him act like that, I bet he's usually the odd one out in his class.

Classmate B: Dude, could you stop yelling for one second? We get it, you don’t want to fail and get held back after class. And that’s exactly why we need to work toge-

Sebek: By no means can I stay behind after class. For that sake, it would be prudent for me to discard of any concerning factors in this equation. I’m perfectly capable of completing this assignment on my own, and I’ve no need of a human’s assistance. You two would only be a hindrance for me.

Classmate A: Huh? You calling us deadweight? Man, you’re constantly looking down on humans. It really pisses me off….

Classmate B: Save it. If he wants to do this thing on his own, might as well let him. Anyways, I know you and me don’t care about getting held back, so does it really matter if we let Sebek do what he wants?

Classmate A: Yeah, I guess you’re right. No way I’m going to be able to put up with this guy for much longer. Alright, Sebek. You’re on your own now, so give it your best shot.

Sebek: That’s been my intention from the start. The best and only way you two can help me is to stand back and do nothing.

Classmate A / Classmate B: THIS GUY'S REALLY PISSING ME OFF!!

Ace / Deuce: Sheesh…

Deuce: Wow. Sebek really is something. He turned his whole team against him just like that.

Ace: If he’d just quit with his holier than thou garbage and let people help him, he’d be able to ace this thing easy-peasy. The guy seriously does not get how the world works.

(Later that day, during lunch)

Ace: Dang! The cafeteria’s packed already. And the only free spots left are… behind Sebek. C’mon, I just wanna eat my food in peace and quiet here!

Deuce: Yeah, I wish we’d gotten here sooner. I hate having to sit next to you…

Ace: Dude, that’s my line! Whatever, guess we don’t have any other choice.

(Ace and Deuce go sit down at the table behind where Sebek, Lilia, and Silver are seated)

Lilia: By the way, how was class today, Sebek?

Sebek: Yes, sir! ‘Twas nary a problem.

Lilia: Is that so? You always answer the same way every time I ask. You’re just a 1st year and all, so it’s alright if you’re making any mistakes in class.

Sebek: It’s the truth! No issues here at all.

Ace: Pff…

Sebek: What was that? You’re Ace and Deuce from Heartslabyul, are you not? Don’t tell me you were laughing at me just now?

Ace: Why are you sitting there saying, “nO pRoBLeMs aT aLL!”? Hah, as if.

Silver: …. Did something happen?

Deuce: He got into a huge argument during our joint magical defense class earlier. We’re supposed to be doing an assignment together in groups of three, but he blew up at his team members and said they were just going to get in his way. It sounded like he decided to do the assignment on his own.

Ace: Honestly, it was pretty amazing to watch. We’re all supposed to be working together with our team members, but he totally turned his against him.

Lilia: What’s this? Have you gotten into another quarrel with your classmates, Sebek?

Silver: Sebek…

Ace: Gotta say, your confidence is pretty impressive. Thinking you can pull off a 3-man assignment all by yourself like that.

Sebek: And why should you find that strange? As our Lord’s guard, it’s only natural that I should be capable of handling such a trivial matter.

Ace: ….Seriously? I was being sarcastic, dude.

Deuce: I’m not going to poke fun at you like Ace here, but as an honor student, I can’t ignore your behavior, Sebek. It’s fine if you want to act all tough, but you need to stop bothering people around you.

Sebek: Hmph. How pitiful. Devoting oneself to one’s studies is expected to be a solitary endeavor. If you truly mean to say that your attention keeps getting interrupted by the actions of those around you, that is proof of your meager concentration skills. If you wish to lay blame on someone for that, then blame your own carelessness.

Ace: You’re wasting a lot of big words just to say a whole lotta nothin’. And you’re always super loud in class, too. Why can’t you put all that gabbing you do to good use and maybe try acting at least somewhat agreeable for a change?

Sebek: The entire reason I came to Night Raven College was for our Lord’s sake, and his sake alone. As I am only here to stand by his side as his guard, it matters to me not what others may think of me.

Ace: You gotta be kiddin’ me…. If he still doesn’t get it, then we’re just wasting our breathe here.

Deuce: Silver Senpai, Lilia Senpai, we apologize for disturbing you in the middle of your meal. It looks like some seats have opened up elsewhere, so we’ll go move now.

(Deuce and Ace leave)

Silver / Lilia: ………………

Sebek: Hmm? Is something the matter?

Lilia: No…. I was just thinking that you really do put Malleus above everything else, don't you.  

Sebek: Why, thank you! I admire you greatly, Sir Lilia, and I am deeply touched to hear you say that.

Lilia: It wasn’t a compliment…

Part 2

Sebek: At any rate, ‘tis a shame we couldn’t accompany Lord Malleus at lunch today.

Lilia: I stopped by his class earlier, and it looks like they’ll be getting out a bit late.

Sebek: I see… As I thought, the 3rd year students really are quite busy.

Lilia: Hm? Oh, I recognize that face. That’s your “I’m waiting for Malleus!” face. How nostalgic!

Sebek: Pardon?

Lilia: It was back when Malleus and I were 1st years, and we’d just returned to the Valley for a visit. You were making that same exact face as you eagerly awaited our arrival, and you wound up bursting into tears of joy in the end.

Sebek: A-ah, that was simply because I was so deeply moved by Lord Malleus’s kind words that it made my eyes well up a bit…. How embarrassing…

Sebek: I can still clearly remember what he told me upon his return to the Valley. He said, “You should come attend Night Raven College with us.” What boundless consideration for his subjects! As one would expect from our Lord.

Silver: Not only did you get accepted into Night Raven College like you were wanting, but you also got placed into the same dorm as our Lord. I’m happy for you, Sebek.

Sebek: Yes, well, I can’t fathom I’d have ever wound up in a dorm different than our Lord’s.  ….Ah, I’ve got P.E. class this afternoon. I’ll need to change my outfit and start getting ready. I’ll go ahead and take my leave now. Sir Lilia, I’m delighted we had the chance to talk today. And Silver, don’t fall asleep in any of the rest of your classes today, either. Farewell.

(Sebek departs)

Silver: …I was thinking that if Sebek started going to school here, his attitude towards others around him would change, but… He’s just the same as ever. He doesn’t look like he has any interest in getting to know people outside the Valley.

Lilia: Hm…. Sebek is strict both towards himself and with others. I fear he’s simply not able to adjust himself in order to fit in with those around him.

Silver: By the way, I was thinking of something when you were talking to Sebek just now. Back when you and Lord Malleus had just gotten accepted into Night Raven College, it seemed like Sebek started training even harder after that.

Lilia: Is that right? I was so busy with school at the time I wasn’t really able to look after you boys all that much.

Silver: And when I learned I’d also be going to school here, he warned me not to be a nuisance to you both and then wished me well… I remember he held my acceptance letter in his hands and stared at it quietly for a long, long time.

Lilia: I see, that’s not surprising. In the year between the three of us going to school and him receiving his own acceptance letter, I’m certain he must have been so worried. Not that he’d ever admit it

Silver: Worried?

Lilia: In order to get accepted at Night Raven College, you need to have a sense for magic. But Sebek was late in developing his magic, remember? I’m sure he must have been concerned whether he was a good enough mage to get into this school. He’s a composed and clever boy. …Well, as long it’s not something involving Malleus, ‘cause then he’s completely hopeless... At any rate, I’m sure he’s able to evaluate his own magical prowess objectively.

Silver: Ah, that’s right. I remember he was really shocked when I ended up developing my magic before he did.

Lilia: Heh heh. Oh, yes. I remember that, too. He was so down in the dumps about it, and it was quite the effort trying to console him!

Silver: Hah, that really brings me back.

Lilia: Though he had a late start in becoming a mage, he more than made it up for it with his strength and his knowledge. And after finally developing his magic, he further continued to hone his abilities. I’m sure his diligent training is what guided him on his journey here to Night Raven College. It’s not everyday you come across someone with such an earnest drive to keep pushing themselves forward like that. His level of conviction is truly amazing.

Silver: That’s right. There’s certainly a thing or two I could learn from him.

Lilia: I wish his classmates could see all those good things about him, too… But this will be a good lesson for him. Let’s keep quiet for now and just observe from the sidelines, then.

Silver: Yes, sir.

Lilia: And it’ll be more fun this way!

Silver: Father…

(Joint Magical Defense Class: Third Session)

Deuce: Starting today, we’ll be practicing for our assignment while wearing our dorm uniforms, since they’ve got a resistance to magic and all. Dunno about you, but I’m getting kinda pumped up now.

Ace: Really? We wear these uniforms everyday, though. Can’t say I feel any different.

???: BUT WHY!???

Deuce: I feel like I’m having déjà vu or something…

Sebek: This cannot be! I absolutely object to this!

Ace: Geez, Sebek’s over there arguing with his team again.

Deuce: Yeah, but this time it looks like his teammates are complaining about something, too.

Sebek: I cannot believe this…. All three of us have to participate in the demonstration tomorrow in order for us to pass!? That means that even if I clear the requirements on my own, we’ll still all fail… This “group work” nonsense is truly maddening!!

Classmate A: And if we fail, we’ll be banned from our club activities for a whole week!?? The club president’s going to be so mad at me if that happens…

Classmate B: Same here. We got a match coming up soon, and I don’t even want to imagine how Kingscholar Senpai would react if I bailed on practice just ‘cause of something stupid like that…

Sebek: ….

Deuce: It suddenly got all quiet.

Ace: They’re probably just giving each other death glares or something. They made it so awkward during the last session, too. No way I’d wanna go anywhere near those guys.

Sebek: ….I haven’t any other choice. I shall grant you both roles for the assignment.

Classmate B: Why you gotta keep talking down to us like that?

Classmate A: This is your fault we ended up in this mess in the first place! Treating us like we’re deadweight and barking at us to leave you alone!

Sebek: Were you both not letting me do all the work this whole time, just so you could take it easy?

Classmate A / Classmate B: Ack!

Sebek: I myself am reluctant to enquire by a couple of humans for assistance, but if it’s for the sake of the young Lord, then so be it. I haven’t any other choice, and neither do you two. Isn’t that right?

Classmate A: …..It pisses me off to admit it, but Sebek’s right. We’re going to have to work together.

Classmate B: Fine, whatever. But if we’re gonna do this as a team, then could you cool it with the superiority complex!

Sebek: Hah! Fine, I shall grant you a compromise then!

Classmate B: …Never mind, it’s useless.

Classmate A: We all have to give our demonstrations tomorrow, right? Do you guys think we can pull this off? Our team’s falling apart, and we haven’t practiced at all…

Part 3

(The following Day. Joint Magical Defense Class: Fourth Session)

Sebek: Soon, it will be our team’s turn to demonstrate. Are you prepared, humans!

Classmate A / Classmate B: Yeah…

Sebek: YOU ARE TOO QUIET, HUMANS!!

Classmate A: Does it really matter how loud we are? Shouting “Let’s go, team!” or whatever isn’t really going to help us here...

Classmate B: Honestly, Sebek, I’m not all that confident I’m going to be able to work together with you and pass the assignment…

Sebek: You two are completely unmotivated, I see. With an attitude like that, you wouldn’t be able to overcome even the most surefire of battles… Listen, do you recall what we decided on beforehand, regarding what types of magic you are each responsible for using?

Classmate A: Yes, we’re both going to use the types of magic we’re personally best at. That’s water for me, and fire for him. I remember at least that much. …But was it really alright for us to pick ours first before you could?

Classmate B: The rules say we have to use three different types of magic during the demonstration, and since we chose two types already, Sebek can’t just go and chose whatever type he’s best at. It’s going to have to be something different from ours.

Sebek: It matters not, for I make sure to practice a wide variety of magic every day. Besides, I’m well aware of how difficult it can be to overcome something you aren’t good at in just one night…. To ensure we pass this assignment, I wanted to leverage the strongpoints that you both already possess.

Classmate A: Huh. I see.

Classmate B: He’s still actin’ all high and mighty, but what he’s saying makes sense.

Sebek: Alright then, LET’S GO!

Classmate A: O water! Envelop that puppet in your grasp and cease its movements!Crud, that thing’s a lot faster than I imagined! I can’t land a hit on it.

Classmate B: Me either. I don’t think any of my attacks have even grazed it so far.

Sebek: That puppet is much nimbler than I’d envisioned. It moves itself as though it were a real person… What an interesting exercise this has turned out to be.

Classmate A / Classmate B: …………….

Sebek: Oi, what are you two standing around for! Try again! And do not cease until you have struck the target!

Classmate B: But our time’s about to run out… I doubt we’ll be able to pass at this rate.

Classmate A: I guess our slapstick team really was hopeless after all…

Sebek: SILENCE! WE HAVEN’T THE TIME FOR YOUR FEEBLE COMPLAINTS!

Classmate B: W-what!?  That scared me…

Classmate A: You’re way too freaking loud!

Sebek: Yes, I saw you had both fallen into a stupor from your trepidation, and I needed to rouse you out of it. No matter how unattainable a goal may appear, you mustn’t give up. You will discover the means to victory if you just keep trying! To think, you lot would falter after only a few failed attempts… It’s pitiful! Don’t tell me that’s as far as your determination will take you! Where is your pride as Night Raven College students! HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO ACHIEVE ANYTHING IF YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE FAITH IN YOURSELVES!!

Classmate A: You know what Sebek? You really aren’t all that ba-

Sebek: For the sake of my beloved young Lord, I absolutely and positively cannot fail this assignment. As your good fortune would have it, you are, in a way, working for our Lord right now. If you want to give up or throw yourselves to the ground in defeat, you are free to do so. But not until after we have secured our victory! For Lord Malleus’s sake!

Classmate A: Why, you little-!!!!

Classmate B: This whole time, you were only thinking about Draconia Senpai and yourself!!

Sebek: Heh, it seems your vigor has returned to you.

Classmate B: Huh? Oh, I guess I do kind of feel more energized after yelling like that.

Classmate A: I’m not going to sit just around and give up now after he’s made a mockery of us like that. Come on, let’s show him what we’ve got! Take this!

Ace: Woah, check it out. Sebek’s team is getting all fired up all of a sudden. Is that their strategy or something?

Deuce: They’re not going to be able to land a hit on the puppet if they just keep blindly firing off their magic left and right like that. I wonder what they’re planning?

Ace: Just brute force it I guess? Honestly, at this rate, no matter what kind of magic Sebek ends up throwing into the mix I doubt it’s gonna get them anywhere.

Sebek: ….Excellent. It looks like I was able to raise their morale. Having a strong esprit de corps is essential in the throes of battle. I mustn’t let this opportunity escape my grasp. The decisive move here shall be... I've got it! You there, human! Strike your fire magic at that puddle of water yonder!

Classmate A: Puddle? Oh, you mean from when my attack missed earlier?

Classmate B: I’m kinda starting to get used to Sebek’s bossy tone… It’s worth a shot!

(Classmate B does as commanded and a bunch of steam fills the air after his fire magic strikes the puddle)

Ace: Woah, that’s a lot of steam! I can hardly see anything…

Sebek: Perfect, now’s my chance! Since this puppet so elaborately mimics the movements of a real person, then robbing it of its sight should have the same effect on it as it would on any one of us. There, now it can hardly move. ‘Twas certainly a most interesting exercise, however, the fact that our target for this assignment ended up being this man-like puppet rather than some simple object was most fortuitous for me. Had this been a test centered solely upon our magical powers, then perchance I might have struggled a bit… However, I have faith in all the preparedness training I’ve done for situations like this! In the name of Lord Malleus, I shall have you perish here! TAKE THIS!

Ace: Woah, Sebek landed a direct hit…. and that puppet is freakin’ toast!! Was he just waiting for his chance this whole time?

Deuce: I think he’s the first person in the whole class that managed to destroy the puppet in one try like that. Guy’s got some skills…

Sebek: Well then, I shall now read aloud the evaluation we’ve received from the professor.

Classmate A / Classmate B: *Gulp*

Sebek (reading aloud): “Although your team exhibited speed and control issues with executing your attacks, you all displayed a remarkable, determined effort to push through your struggles during the latter half of your exhibition. In accordance with the assignment’s requirements, your team successfully employed three different types of magic and destroyed the target. Result: Pass”

Classmate A / Classmate B: We…We did it!!

Sebek: Ah, I see we weren’t able to receive full marks…. All of us, myself included, still have much to improve on.

Classmate A: What are you grumbling for? You should be celebrating with us. You really are useless at reading the atmosphere, huh. But you know, what you said to us back there did help get us fired up… in both a good and bad sense… Thanks, man.

Classmate B: Yeah, you’re right. And I kind of feel like I understand why you always yell so much, Sebek.

Sebek: Is that so…. You both also showed a tremendous effort today. I was able to witness the fruits of your determination, and you really didn’t do all that bad for a couple of humans.

Classmate A: Heh, it’s kind of weird hearing you talk all calmly like that.

Sebek: However, had I been permitted to complete this assignment on my own, I could have done so in half the time that you lot required.

Classmate B: The hell?!? Weren’t we just talking about how we were able to pass the assignment ‘cause of our teamwork??

Sebek: What? I recall no such discussion. Your efforts and my strength are completely unrelated. I was simply adhering to the rules of this assignment! I doubtless could have secured an easy victory on my own without relying on your help!

Classmate A: I kind of regret thanking him now…

Classmate B: And I regret thinking he wasn't all that bad! Sebek, dude, you seriously gotta do something about that attitude!

(Later that day, after school)

Sebek: My lord, I shall be the only one accompanying you as your guard today. I shall strive to do my best!

Malleus: Very well. …By the way, I heard about your success in your joint magical defense class earlier today.

Sebek: Huh!? W-Whence did you hear that, My Lord?

Malleus: I met with Lilia and Silver before coming here, and they told me all about it. I can see you’ve made great progress, Sebek.

Sebek: L-Lord Malleus…! …Really, t’was nothing but a trivial matter. For you, My Lord, I shall certainly strive to continue being diligent in my studies, for so long as I shall live!

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 41 | part 42

“Oh, hi, Carmelo.” Jesse greeted him at the door. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Yes, well, I—” Carmelo froze. “Is that a love-bite on your neck?”

Jesse blushed as he quickly covered the hickey. “No. I just…I got bitten—I MEAN, it’s a mosquito bite. It’s that time of year again.” He laughed awkwardly.

Carmelo narrowed his eyes. “Watch yourself, boy.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” Jesse averted eye contact. “Uh…why don’t you come in? And maybe sit on the left side of the couch.”

“That would probably be best.” Carmelo shot him a look.

Carmelo took a seat on the couch and Jesse stared at him. The room was uncomfortably silent.

“Oh, uh, Selina’s not here right now. She went out shopping for baby clothes with some of her dance friends.” Jesse finally said. “And Marcel’s taking a nap if you wanted to—”

“I came here to talk to you, Jesse.” Carmelo stopped him. “There’s something important we need to discuss.”

“Oh.” Jesse stared at him. “Oh no. Why do I get the feeling I won’t like this?”

Carmelo chuckled. “Calm down, son. It’s the good kind of important.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little velvet box. “There’s something I wanted to pass down to you. Come sit down so we can talk.”

Jesse awkwardly sat on the couch as far away from Carmelo as he could without being rude. “So…what’s in the box?”

“It’s something very special to my family. Priceless even. I want you to have it.” Carmelo opened the box and showed Jesse the diamond ring inside.

“O-Oh my god.” Jesse’s eyes widened. “That’s a ring. Like a real ring.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Carmelo smiled, oblivious to Jesse’s discomfort. “It was my mother’s ring. My father made it just for her.” He sighed. “She gave this to me when I wanted to propose to Amaia, but I already had my own ring. I still wonder if things would’ve been different if I’d just used this ring instead. My parents were married for nearly seventy years.” He handed the box to Jesse. “I hope this ring is as lucky to you and Selina as it was to my parents.”

“Wow, Carmelo. I don’t know what to say.” Jesse stared at the ring. He thought back to his conversation with Selina. “I really don’t know what to say…”

“Say you’ll accept.” Carmelo nodded. “I know I can be hard on you sometimes, but I’m truly very grateful for how happy you’ve made my daughter. And I do love my little grandchildren a great deal.” He put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “I would be honored to have you as part of this family.”

Jesse bit his lip as he visibly tried to work out equations in his head.

“Are you listening to me, boy?” Carmelo narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I’m definitely listening.” Jesse snapped out of it. “I just—cuz Selina and I talked about it the other night and we—”

“Oh you mean the same night you got that “mosquito” bite?” Carmelo raised an eyebrow.

“Yea—NO.” Jesse caught himself. “Totally different night. Actually I don’t even know when I got this. Mosquitoes are kind of wild—NOT WILD, that’s not what I meant. Just…tiny flying assassins.”

Carmelo stared at him in disbelief. “What exactly did you two talk about that’s making you hesitate?”

“Oh, I’m not hesitating.” Jesse assured him. “I really appreciate you bringing this to me, I mean it. And I have every intention of marrying your daughter.”

“Good.” Carmelo nodded. “Cuz if you let my baby raise those two babies on her own, it would be because you’re six feet under.” He glared, making Jesse gulp in fear. “So what did you two talk about the other night? Finally decided on when to get married?”

“Uh…yeah…” Jesse said slowly. “We have an idea.”

“Hopefully it’s within the next year.” Carmelo nudged him. “I’ve been wondering when you’d ask for my permission for some time now. I was hoping you two would be married by now.”

“Yeah well, we probably would’ve been married already if things were a little different with the label.” Jesse sighed and stared at the ring for a moment. “I already know how I wanna do it. I’ve known for the last six years. I mean, I had to revise a little cuz I didn’t think we’d already have kids, but…I know.”

“I knew you were a good one.” Carmelo smiled at him. “I knew from the moment Selina told me she wanted me to meet you that you’d be the one.”

“Really?” Jesse tried and failed to suppress a satisfied smile. “You liked me all along?”

“Well, yeah. Until I discovered just how libidinous you really are.” Carmelo narrowed his eyes.

Jesse blushed and laughed awkwardly. “You know what? I think I hear the baby calling me.” He got up and headed towards the room. “Just gimme one second.” He shut the door behind him and banged his head on the wall as quietly as he could. “Oh my god, I cannot wait until this visit is over.”

———

Amaia is Carmelo’s ex-wife, Selina’s estranged mother