#I look Exactly the same but I don't have hair

[oweninadaydream]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞) || 𝐀.𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary : Can anybody blame a young lady for indulging in her deepest desires despite suspecting that the end is imminent?

song inspo: Fortnight by Taylor Swift (ft. Post Malone)

pairing : Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count : 1564 words

contains : rake!Anthony, unrequited? love, mentions of alcohol and I think that's it!

a/n : I am not the owner of the gif or the dividers ( I don't possess such talents jakjhakjshda). This will have a second part (already working on it). The next chapter of the Feel the rush series will be posted after my exams, sorry :((( Anyway, enjoy !!!

The maid finished working on (Y/N)’s makeup and she turned to look at the final product in the mirror. Her  hair was perfectly held at the back of her neck with a chignon. Her grandmother’s diadem added that sophisticated touch the young woman craved. After taking in the breathtaking shade of her dress in the mirror, she started twirling and giggling around her chamber in a fairy manner. Someone could wonder, what on earth was going on inside the girl’s head? The answer was easy, yet so complicated. Lady (Y/L/N) was simply smitten with someone she knew very well, a lifelong friend that seemed interested in her as well. The problem? That man was no other than Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, the most infamous rake of the Ton. 

“Your carriage is ready, miss (Y/L/N)” the butler informed the young lady.

At almost the same time, another voice echoed around the house.

“(Y/N) dear, we must go now. Lady Danbury will not let me hear the end of it if we show up late yet again. I’d also like to chat a bit with Violet, I haven’t seen her since the Featherington ball.” her mother urged her from the hall.

“I’m ready, mother” she answered loud enough for the woman to hear.

On her way to the barouch that would transport them, she realized that the burgundy dahlias that had been planted at the beginning of the summer were finally blooming with the arrival of autumn, contributing to the embellishment of the front garden. She stared at them for a second; her mind was searching for something in them but she couldn’t explain what exactly. She shook her head and she got inside the carriage.

Pacing around the ethereal gardens of Aubrey Hall, her mind couldn’t help the quick escapades to the first time they kissed. Sitting under the blossoming tree, Anthony and her were watching the sunset taking with itself the traces of winter, welcoming the first of many spring nights. The two of them were abnormally quiet, as if the sight of the moon had bewitched them both. (Y/N)'s spine could still feel violent shivers traveling down her spine when recalling the way the Viscount had lightly brushed his nose against hers before capturing her lips into a slow deep kiss. His chapped and demanding mouth stole a couple more pecks before laughing airly, rising from their hidden spot and offering his hand to help her on her feet. 

That glorious evening marked the beginning of … Well, she couldn’t quite state what it was. The rest of the summer was filled with fleeting glances, embraces away from prying eyes and laughing, lots of laughing. (Y/N) had never been happier; after all, the Viscount was by her side every other night. Still, a series of dark thoughts anxiously floated around her head whenever he walked away to attend the gentlemen’s club, or whenever he tried to avoid her gaze after implying anything that had to do with love or compromise outside his mattress.  Shaking her head and changing the subject usually did the trick, but for the last few days, Anthony had been acting ever so strange. 

(Y/N) was absent in deep thoughts when she felt a familiar touch on her back. 

“Anthony” It was not a  question, but the most confident of statements.

“How did you know it was me so surely?” he said while flashing her with one of his infamous smiles.

She raised her head so her eyes stared at him directly. “I could recognize you by smell, by the prints you leave when you step on the ground on a rainy day or simply by tracing your features with only one finger, eyes completely closed. You are no mystery to me” her answer was sweet and sincere, with a touch of flirting attitude.

He went quiet, very quiet. Every bit of the playful attitude  he had shown earlier had disappeared, now replaced by a hard expression. “You ignore plenty of things about me, so stop acting like my-”

“What has come over you? Your usually particular temperament has worsened these past two weeks. I do not appreciate that you talk to me in such a way” she abruptly interrupted in hopes of obtaining any kind of answer that would help her understand.

“I cannot bear with this any longer. I just feel like we have gone astray from the path we had established for us. I wish for us to be on the same page, and that implies remembering the casual nature of our… deal. Please tell me you understand” his pleading eyes accompanied the request perfectly.

“Forgive me, Anthony but I can’t wrap my head around what you are saying. I thought we were evolving, like our relationship. I know you are not the most kin on marrying or doing this as everyone else does, but after all we’ve been through, don’t you dare tell me that I have been delusionally imagining all these romantic gestures and moments”

“Mademoiselle Parisot is upstairs waiting for me. I would love to continue to discuss this in another time, unless there’s anything that must be told in this exact moment” Was his voice meant to sound confident? (Y/N) could almost feel some sorrow slipping through the cracks of his quick confession. 

The astounded expression on (Y/N)’s face showed that she did in fact not comprehend any of what Anthony was rambling about. A quick sight that denoted shock and upset preceded the lady’s monologue.

“I love you, Anthony, and it’s ruining my life. I can’t keep sighing like a damsel trapped in the highest tower, as I yearn for a future that my eyes will not behold. I can’t keep masquerading my true desires, in hopes that you will choose to stay. I will not continue to morph into whatever kind of woman you fantasize about at the moment, making all those efforts for a man who could never spare a glance at me in such a way, and losing myself in the process. I always thought my worst misery would originate in a forced, loveless marriage with some old earl at best , that would little by little drain every spark of joy within me. But oh, what fool I have been. This senseless affair we have going on has come to distress me more than the worst of husbands ever could. So, go on, run straight into her arms. I do not care, not one bit, my lord. You have shattered my heart a million times throughout the years, I cannot feel it tearing apart anymore.”

His stupidly handsome face showed an evident feeling of distraughtness ; she had never raised her voice like that, nor had she ever used similar words around (or against) him. He quickly shook  his head to wash away the initial shock, substituting it with his typical stoic mask.

“I have never intended to inflict any kind of pain upon yourself, my lady. But, as my dearest friend, you should have known what you were getting yourself into, (y/n).”

His casual condescending  tone made her sick to the stomach and the loudest of silences entered the scene. After a minute or two, a gentle breeze interrupted (y/n)’s pondering. She then raised her head up in a defying manner. After making sure her voice wouldn't give up on her (even though her lower lip was trembling), she decided to voice her thoughts. 

“That's the thing that bothers me so much about infatuation. It makes humans stupid, it makes them believe it can fix anything, even lost causes such as yourself, Viscount Bridgerton. I do not desire to disturb my lord any longer, so excuse me.” And just like that, she was heading back inside the ballroom.

The sound of her heels furiously hitting the floor with every step matched perfectly with the accelerated heartbeat of the man left stranded in the gardens. Without much thought he decided to return to the chambers where his seemingly perfect mistress awaited for him.

Not very far from the action, a slightly inebriated Benedict was laughing obnoxiously loud with Eloise and Colin. The sight of  (Y/N) crossing the doors so rapidly while trying to contain her sobs and tears made the three Bridgerton siblings turn their heads to follow their friend’s trajectory. 

“Should we-” Benedict was eager to console (Y/N) despite his clouded reasoning.

“I would say that she needs a moment to collect herself, Benedict. Our presence could do more harm to her already poor state.” Colin spoke.

“I will try to approach her later. I wonder what has happened… Wasn’t she talking with Anthony?” Eloise recalled perfectly how Anthony had started to converse with Miss (Y/N) earlier that night, right in front of the thriving gardenias. Everything seemed perfectly normal when she was passing by, but it was obvious that something had happened after she had gone back inside.

Eloise moved rapidly to peek around the corner, followed by the two males whose curiosity was unbearable as well. On the other side of the garden, an obviously tense Anthony was making his way to his chamber with a light emanating from the inside of the room.

Without a second thought, Benedict voiced what the three of them were thinking in that moment.

“I think that is exactly the problem, my dear sister…”

#oweninadaydream #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #fem reader

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Hii lovely!! I'm not sure if it's alright but just hear me out. maybe a fic stalker theo completely obsessed w reader, maybe kinda dubcon but if not i totally understand !!

Very convenient timing considering I just read Haunting Adeline this weekend. I kinda used one of the parts in it for the instigation, but I hope this works!

Fuck Off

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: DUB/NONCON PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, stalking.

18+ Minors DNI

You've had a stalker for a few months now. They would leave gifts outside your dorm to begin with. Then they started showing up in your dorm. The gifts were sweet and tailor specifically to your likes and wants, which you couldn't decide if that made it creepier or not.

The gifts weren't the only thing you got from your stalker. They would also send you texts from an unknown number. They weren't threatening or anything that suggested harm to you. Maybe creepy since they'd talk about what you were doing in that moment, even when you were completely alone. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were sexual. And you hated to admit it, but they knew exactly how to talk dirty to you, they could get you worked up so easily. It freaked you out but you weren't in danger. Right?

You were sitting in your bed reading, unwinding from the hectic day you just had when your phone went off for a text notification. It startled you out of your little world and you opened the message.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you're reading?”

Your stalker again.

“A few times.” You replied. At this point, you've given up ignoring them since they'll just keep messaging you until you respond.

“I'll tell you a million more times. You should be reminded every day how beautiful you are.”

“You already do that.”

“Maybe next time I say it, I can say it while my cock's buried deep inside you.”

“Pervert.”

“Only for you. You know you drive me insane. You make me so hard just sitting there. Especially since I know the filth you're reading. You're not so innocent yourself, bella.”

You looked at your phone for a moment before looking around. You did read dirty books, but only in your dorm. Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to it.

“You won't find me, amore mio. You should know this by now.”

“Fuck off.” You replied, angry at him for how he's treating your privacy.

“Careful, principessa. If you say that again, I'm gonna come fuck that little pussy of yours.”

You scoffed, disgusted by his words. Would he really come do it? No. Was part of you also curious if he would and wanted to see who he was? Yeah. That's why you couldn't stop yourself from replying.

“Fuck off.”

“You're in for it now, cara mia.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. Your eyes felt heavy after a while and you put the book aside to fall asleep.

The next day, you got up and headed for the showers, getting ready for the day. You stripped and got under the hot water of the shower, relaxing for a moment before starting your shower routine.

You always got an eerie feeling of someone watching you or being right there when you closed your eyes while rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of your hair. This time, though, when you opened your eyes after rinsing out the conditioner, there was someone right in front of you. You knew him, of course, everyone did. Theodore Nott.

You screamed and backed away from him, hitting the shower wall while you covered your body as best as you could.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled.

“I'm not going anywhere, cara mia.” He smiled. You noticed he was fully clothed as he stepped towards you, drenching his clothes from the shower.

“You? You're the fucking creep that's been stalking me?” You made the connection after hearing him call you the same pet name as your stalker.

“If you recall that little conversation last night, I told you I'd come fuck you if you told me to ‘fuck off’ again, which you did.” He took another step closer, his shoes nearly touching your toes. “And I don't make empty threat, principessa.”

“I could scream right now and someone will come in and stop you.” You threatened, hoping to deter him.

“I'm hurt you think I'm so stupid. I put a silencing charm on the room and looking charm on the door so no one could come in and you can't get out.” He said as he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your face.

You flinched from his touch, closing your eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?” You whisper.

“I'm gonna make you feel so, so good, bella.” He said and moved to kneel in front of you.

As soon as his knees hit the tile, you pushed him out of the way and ran out of the shower, trying not to slip.

“I already told you, you cant get out, cara mia.” He called out to you.

You ignored him and tried the door to the bathroom. Wouldn't even budge. You didn't have your wand on you either since you were showering. Hands wrapped around your waist and you fought against him, kicking back to hit him, which just ended up making you both fall to the ground. He was much quicker than you, propping you on your knees so your face was down and ass up for him while he held your hands behind your back. You couldn't see him from this angle, but felt his tongue flick your clit, making you moan.

“You act like you don't want me, but your soaking, cara mia.” He said before licking and sucking at your clit.

Your words died in your throat, replaced by a moan leaving your mouth instead.

“Your body knows what it wants, amore mio.” He licked up to your entrance, prodding his tongue inside.

“Fuck.” You moaned, eyes rolling back before closing.

He moaned against you and kept his onslaught of pleasure on your pussy until you came.

“That's my good girl. That's what I wanted.” He said as he helped ride out your high.

“To force yourself on me?” You asked as you caught your breath once the orgasm faded.

“To make you feel good, principessa.” He shuffled behind you a bit as he kept a hand holding yours down still. You could hear the sound of his pants being undone.

“I think there could've been another way to fuck me that didn't involve stalking and harassing me.” It probably wasn't a smart move to mouth off to your stalker, but you were so angry. You pulled your hands out of his grip and tried taking off, but he just grabbed your legs, making you fall back on your stomach.

“I think you like this, though. I see how soaked you are from this.” He pulled you back onto your knees and held onto both your wrists with both of his hands. His cock teased your entrance, coating it in your arousal.

“You think I like you forcing yourself on me?” You said, hissing from how sensitive you were when he nudged your clit.

“You haven't told me to stop.” He said before thrusting into you, immediately bottoming out and making you cry out. “You're practically dripping from how wet you are for me, cara mia.”

You couldn't even deny that, maybe you were crazy, but you were embarrassingly wet from all this.

He started thrusting in and out of you, his grip on your wrists tight, bruises will probably form later from all of this.

“Not even trying to fight back anymore. You finally accepting that you're enjoying this?” He asked, letting go of your wrists to grab your hips. “Or maybe I got you too cockdrunk on me. Is that it? Am I making you feel so good you can't talk?” His voice was condesending.

“Fuck off.” You said, clawing at the floor to grip something.

“You love testing me, principessa. I don't mind. I'm happy to put you in your place each time.” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You can stop acting like you hate this. I can feel you clenching my cock like you can't get enough of it.”

“As if.” You said between moans. He was hitting you so deep and fast, it had another orgasm building quickly.

“Keep talking like that and next time I'll have to punish you, amore mio.” He said, moving a hand from your hip to grip your hair. “How about you be a good girl instead and cum on my cock for me, yeah?”

“Fuck, shit!” You cried out, so close to cumming.

“Scream my name when you cum. Wanna hear how it sounds from those pretty lips.” He groaned, he was getting close himself. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, principessa.”

You came around him, trembling as his name fell from your lips over and over.

“That's the most beautiful sound I've ever fucking heard. Shit!” He said before moaning, his hips stilling as he came inside you, filling your pussy with his cum.

He pulled out as you both caught your breaths and stood back up, quickly redoing his pants before pulling out his wand and undoing the spells. He left the bathroom without another word to you as you slowly got up and went back to the shower to scrub the filth of what you'd done off of you.

And hopefully convince yourself that you didn't enjoy that.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore

Let me know if you wanna be added!

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #thedore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hello there!!!👋

May I ask for some angst?

Dottore spending time with his biological child and the more the day progresses he sees his wife (who died a few day after giving birth to their child) in their child (A headcanon and/or small scenario plz)

Thank you!!!

Gonna make me cry anon.. also might have changed it a bit.

Taking care of a kid is a difficult task for Dottore himself. Especially if it was his own. A healthy baby girl, how ironic that she looked exactly the same as you. Neither of you didn't expect such a tragedy to happen, mostly him.

"Sir, she won't be able to make it." Omega stated, watching over your vital signs. Your body was currently too weak to deliver the baby, and being in labor wasn't helping a lot.

"Then let the child die. I'd rather lose the kid than lose my wife." Dottore snapped as he quickly went and placed an oxygen mask over you, tucking away the lose strands of your hair away from your face. He was quick to notice your breathing becoming more heavy and labored.

"Both her and the child will die if we continue with that idea!" the Theta segment exclaimed.

The three of them were quick to shut up when they heard your pained groans. Immediately examining and looking you over to at least lessen the pain you were experiencing but still keeping you conscious.

Dottore was already in a state of anger and worry, thinking up of multiple solutions to get the child out of you all the while keeping you alive but that seems to be difficult since you don't even have the strength to push the baby out so maybe a c-section will do but the chance of you dying is big. He was quick to come out of his thoughts when you grabbed his arm, making him focus his attention to you.

"Zandik please.. promise me you won't let our baby die."

He let out a deep sigh before nodding at your request. Even at times like these, he could never say no to you. He called over a few more segments to begin your surgery. A simple c-section, nothing to worry about right? But why was he, he of all people suddenly felt fear as he held the scalpel upon your stomach.

It's not right. He knows this will end up badly if he continued, he already felt it. Snapping out of his thoughts once more when he heard you cry out in pain, he nodded to his segments to sedate you for a bit as he began the operation.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. Every segment waited anxiously as they watched their creator work strenuously. The once silent room was filled with small cries as Dottore held his newborn child, dirty from all the blood and amniotic fluid but alive and well. Iota walked over to take the baby from Dottore to clean her up as the doctor went and stitched you up while the other segments who were present had cheerful grins along their faces.

Their happiness was quickly cut off the moment they heard the sound of your heart monitor dropping. Dottore glanced up and glared at Omega, cursing under his breath as he finished stitching you up to help Omega with keeping you stable.

"You incompetent fool! I gave you one job!"

Panic. That's what they're all feeling the moment when you became cardiac asystole. Dottore and Omega resuscitating you the best they can, even using electro to give your heart a shock to at least show any heart rhythm but none came.

"(Y/N) please wake up! You can't leave me! Come on! Your child- our child is safe and awake now it's your turn to wake up please!"

It's been fifteen minutes max with no signs of you showing any heartbeat, the segments could only look away, not wanting to cry in front of you. The sudden weight being placed upon them at the news of your death was overbearing.

Even Iota couldn't believe it. But even so, he couldn't cause any tantrums, he couldn't yell or even throw anything out of anguish. He was holding your child at the moment. The baby you left to them before you passed. It took him a few minutes to calm the baby down and wrap her up in a blanket.

Meanwhile Dottore was still leaning over your figure, his hand held yours as he leaned his forehead against your knuckles. Both of your wedding rings, glimmering against the light.

Dottore knew something bad was going to happen. He felt it bubbling in his guts yet he let it happen. The moment Iota walked back into the room with his daughter in his hold, Dottore glared at them.

"I don't want to see that thing near me. Dispose of it immediately. Give it to the Knave or send it someplace else."

Iota was quick to snap at the order, sure he's still in despair about losing you like how the others feel but his creator telling him to dispose of your own offspring is not what he expected to hear.

"What are you thinking?! (Y/N) carried your child for months, having to go through all the hardships a pregnant woman would go through and here you are disposing her efforts?!"

"I already knew from the start that saving the child would end up with her death! I would have preferred to save her instead of the child!"

"Would she want you to?! You know her well enough to know that she would rather risk herself in danger to save a life! She already said it herself before the operation! You promised her not to let the child die!"

Dottore was quick to shut up, looking over at the little figure bundled up in the blankets. Thoughts filled with 'what if's' as he looked back at your figure on the examining bed.

What if he chose to save you instead of his child? Would you even be happy towards him if you knew about his plans?

A soft coo was heard as Iota looked down at the baby before carefully handing her over to Dottore. The doctor was hesitant at first but he took the chance to hold his own child in his arms. The baby let out little babbles and gargles as her hands reach out to the doctor and tried to grab at his hair.

Dottore observed her actions, looking over her features and letting out a bitter laugh at how his own daughter had most of your features. It's like the gods are being cruel and making his own heart hurt more than it already is.

"From now on, your name will be ■■■■. (Y/N) thought of that name for you."

"Papa? Wake up!"

Dottore slowly opened his eyes and noticed he had fallen asleep on the grass. Finally remembering that he was joining his daughter in the forests of Sumeru to look for some flowers. He was assigned on a mission to take the dendro, along with the electro gnosis back as soon as possible but his daughter wanted to explore a bit and take a break.

Dottore glanced up and squinted his eyes as he stared up at the figure leaning over him. Eyes widening in surprise as he stared at you, the light shining brightly from behind you made you look so angelic and beautiful. He continued to stare at you, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, your face so full of life and a grin plastered on your face as you looked back at him.

He tried to reach his hand out to you but you quickly vanished the moment he blinked and was now staring at his four year old daughter.

"Are you okay papa? Why are you crying?"

Dottore was quick to wipe the tears away from his eyes as he sat up and looked over his child. Oh how he misses you so. Everytime he looks and talks to his child it felt like it was him talking to you instead. Your looks, the way you talk, even your attitude was passed onto your daughter.

He could only laugh at the idea that if you were still with them, he would be having two of the most sassiest women in Teyvat in his life. He got up on his feet and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Have you gotten what you needed, little one?"

"Mhm! I finally got these flowers! Iota told me all about them and I wanted to take some home myself."

She held up a bouquet of padisarah flowers, the doctor could only stare in surprise at how she even got them, moreso why did Iota even told her about it.

"Iota told me how they were mama's favorite flowers and showed me pictures of her holding them. He told me how you would always gift her a bouquet of these whenever you came back from Sumeru and I wanted to give these to mama too... can I give these to her? Will mama like it?"

"...she would love them a lot, my child. Now come on, once I finished my mission then we can visit your mother and give her these gifts. She would be happy to receive these flowers from you."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader #female reader

[gravehags]

falling so badly (i'm coming apart)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: making out, love confessions, reader is a virgin, idiots in love, masturbation, copia being a possessive little sex freak, gay trauma, vague mention of suicidal ideation, paintless copia, vulnerability, donuts

Words: 6,189

Summary: Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

a/n: well this was supposed to be one fic and now it's looking like it's getting split up into multiple because these hoes (me) don't know how to shut the fuck up. takes place immediately after the events of satan baby! made myself sad writing about their respective trauma so y'all better fucking like this lmao and you can expect a couple more installments :) i promise they'll eventually fuck nasty (tender)

~~~

It takes an absurdly long time for the two of you to finally reach your rooms between Copia routinely pausing to push you against the nearest wall with his fingers buried in your hair, lips slotted against yours and you doing the same to him.

His paints are a mess and you know half of them are now on your face but it matters little to either of you. Your right hand carries the bag full of gifts you received that evening while the left is entwined with Copia’s large, leather clad one and the sight makes you grin with pure delight. Finally, you took the step you’ve been dying to for months and your risk has more than paid off. Now here you are, standing outside your door hand in hand with your beloved giving each other a sideways glance. You set down your bag and turn to face him.

“Would you…would you like to come in?”

Your voice is a little shaky and you know exactly why as you watch the Cardinal gnaw on his lower lip and fidget. This has the potential to be a huge night for you, in more ways than one, and the anxiety in your stomach bubbles. He looks as if he is struggling as he lets out a deep sigh and your heart plummets.

“Dolcezza, I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “I would love nothing more. Truly, you have no…no idea how much I desire…” 

When he reopens his eyes his gaze is hungry and you nearly gasp at the way his eyes slowly drag over the shape of you. “How I…cazzo, bellezza you have no idea how mad you make me.”

“The feeling’s mutual, believe me,” you murmur, tilting your head and watching him curiously. You’re not sure if your ears are playing tricks on you but you swear you hear him groan.

“Eh, y-yes. Well. That being said as much as I would love to…to…stay,” he says the word carefully, deliberately, “first I would like to have the chance to eh…to woo you.”

You almost laugh but suppress it when you see how earnestly he looks at you. Your beloved Cardinal. The man who took care of you when you were drunk, the man you called upon to be by your side as you cried. The man who sat in your office multiple days a week, making stupid jokes and flirting with you. Who haunted your dreams. Who listened to you vent and excitedly explain. You would do anything for him. Anything he wanted, and you suspect he would do the same for you. So you smile.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve sufficiently wooed me for the past nine months but I’ll never say no to romance. That’s very thoughtful of you, Copia.”

You watch him blush and you know you have a gooey expression on your face.

“Bene. Bene! I just…want to give you everything you deserve. T-to take you out. Spend time…more time with you.”

Everything you deserve. You don’t know if you deserve it but you know what you want. And while it’s clear he’s not going to indulge that particular desire tonight that doesn’t mean you can’t give him a little tease, right? Slowly you lean forward to wrap your arms around him, breathing in the smoky smell of his cologne on his pellegrina. You can hear him inhale deep as his nose trails along your neck and one of his hands tentatively slides along the small of your back. You just hold him for a moment and allow him to relax into your embrace before putting your lips to his ear and murmuring your killing blow.

“I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can stay a virgin a while longer.”

His breath comes so sharp he nearly hiccups as you place a kiss to the tip of his carefully crafted sideburn and pull away. His pupils are blown, mouth hanging open and practically panting. He looks like he wants to say something but all that comes out is a slight whine. 

“Goodnight, Copia,” you murmur, picking your bag up and opening your door. You step through the threshold and turn back to face him.

“Good–” his voice comes out high and pained, “goodnight, cara mia.”

Your eyes flick over him, echoing the way he looked at you earlier, and there is an ache at the juncture of your thighs when you see the not insignificant bulge tenting his cassock. He starts when he realizes what you’ve seen, hands dropping to mask himself but the damage has been done. You shut the door with a quiet snap and you hear a rough “cazzo” being snarled through the wood. Between his kisses and that…you certainly have enough material to take care of yourself tonight. 

And you do just that.

–

He’s practically running to get to the safety of his quarters, praying to Sathanas that no one stumbles upon him in this state. His mind has to stay blank, to steer clear of the bombshell you just casually dropped on him with a kiss and a smile. If he dwells on it too long he’s going to make a mess in his trousers and he does not want to have to explain that to the abbey launderers. 

Again. 

His prayers are answered as he pants in front of his door, having steered clear of anyone who could be wandering the halls. He fumbles with his keys, hands shaking as he manages to open the door and bolt inside. It’s cold in his rooms but all of a sudden he’s too hot, the wool of his cassock restricting as he shucks off his gloves and fumbles for the buttons. He only gets halfway through with them before losing patience and tearing the garment up and over his head and throwing it to the ground. His suspenders are slid off his shoulders with such force one of them comes detached from its button on his waistband and he viciously untucks his shirt. His cock throbs as he growls and undoes the buttons, toeing off his shoes at the same time. 

“Merda,” he hisses, aware of the mess he’s making for himself but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is unzipping his pants and sliding his underwear down before collapsing to his knees. A virgin. She’s a fucking virgin. He knows he won’t last long but he spits into his palm and takes himself in hand all the same, whimpering when his thumb brushes against the swollen head. Your name spills from his lips as he wetly slides his fist up and down, thinking of the way your tongue felt gliding against his when he had you pushed up against the wall. The soft little whimpers you made into his mouth, the way your fingernails scratched at the base of his scalp. Was he the first to ignite such passions in your heart? He groans at the thought, the sound of skin on skin deafening in the dimly lit room.

“W-what a g-gift you’re giving your C-Cardinal,” he grunts, “bellezza mia–ah–my p-perfect girl. So good for me. I will make you–augh–sing.”

His knees protest the position but his hips flex upwards, rutting into his fist. When he cums it’s with a growl, imagining you blushing beneath him with your pretty mouth hanging open in a moan. Each spurt paints his chest, clinging to the abundance of fine brown hairs and dripping down his stomach. His head falls back as he pants in the dark of his sitting room, still gripping his cock. It’s usually at this point the shame begins to wash over him for imagining you so lewdly but…you were all but his now, were you not? His lips curl into a devious smile and he chuckles thinking about how sweetly you kissed him tonight - and let him kiss you. How you tease him so, the little game the two of you have played over the past months. His dolcezza. And no one else’s. He would make sure of that. When his head falls forward again to look down he sucks in a breath at the sight of his cock swelling in his grip. Hard again, and so soon? The power you hold over him is unthinkable and he aches to tell you so. And speaking of ache…his back and knees both throb but all he can think about is the smell of your perfume and the taste of mulled wine on your mouth. His beloved…oh how he longs to worship you, to spread your legs and nestle himself between them to lap at your cunt. The thought drives his fist to move once more, mouth hanging open. He should haul himself up, drag himself to his bedroom and into the shower but all he can think of is you. You come as easily to him as breathing, you always have. He’s panting as he thinks about all the sweet sounds he will eke out of you, of you giving him the honor of having you. And he would not make you regret it - content to ravish you with fingers and tongue and cock until you beg him to stop. As he continues to furiously stroke himself his mind wanders to your first confession when you had told him about your lustful actions. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me. A whine is wrenched from his throat and his vision starts to go blurry with the knowledge that you were talking about him. That his sick little fantasies and indulgences were all correct. And as he cums for a second time that night, his seed dripping over his fingers and onto the unforgiving hardwood floor, he’s filled with the most satisfying sense of victory.

—

When you wake up the next morning and stretch in bed until your joints pop, it takes a moment to remember the events of the previous night. You think of your lovely time spent with the Papas, the beautiful gifts you received and…oh. A shit-eating grin stretches your mouth and you bury your face into your pillow to let out a scream. Merry fucking Christmas to you. You finally, finally made the step and told Copia how you feel and it’s like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders. And not only did you tell him, he reciprocated the feelings. He likes you. With a sigh you stare up at the dark wooden beams and rub your eyes til you see spots.

And then you remember.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you half-shout into your bedroom, hand flying to your mouth in horror. He told you he wanted to woo you, to be sweet and treat you like you deserve and you…you idiot. Why did you feel the need to divulge one of your deepest secrets to a man you literally just told you cared for? God, that mulled wine did a number on you. What he must think of you…you look to your left and unplug your phone from the charger with every intent of texting him and apologizing for your behavior but before you can your screen lights back up with a notification.

Buongiorno, amore! I hope you slept well! Last night feels like a dream…one I wish to never awaken from.

Your phone vibrates again.

That is, I would like to awaken so that I might see you again.

And again.

It does not make last night any less dreamy, though.

You snort as your gaze goes to the ceiling. Idiot. Your idiot. Clearly you hadn’t been too off-putting, then. Sitting up you scoot backwards and type.

Morning, Copia. Thanks again for being so lovely last night <3

You type out your next thought, then hesitate.

I slept with your necklace on last night to keep you close to me. Is that weird?

Ehh…now that is off-putting. You move your thumb to delete the text and end up hitting the send button instead.

“Shitting fuck!” You fling yourself back down onto the mattress and groan with your eyes scrunched shut. Great. Now not only are you a virgin, you’re a cringe little simp too. Your phone vibrates but it takes another couple of minutes before you get the courage to look at what you’ve wrought. Finally you crack one eye open and glance at your screen.

Dolcezza. My dolcezza…you are too kind to this old man, I don’t deserve you but I adore you.

The candidness of his words makes you melt, curling into the covers to hunch over your phone. I don’t deserve you, what bullshit.

Copia, I am the very least you deserve. And I adore you back. Are you busy today?

The thought of seeing him always brought butterflies to your stomach but now they feel a little more exciting.

Nope! Yesterday was the start of the holiday, remember?

Shit, that’s right. You have the next two weeks off (with pay, Sister Imperator graciously informed you, much to your shock) and this was after you already had some time off to celebrate the holidays with your family. Truly you couldn’t imagine a better gig.

Duh, sorry! If you have a chance today, I’d love to see you. No pressure though!

Were you being too needy? You did just confess your feelings for one another last night. The quickness with which your phone vibrates again makes you jolt.

Amore mio, I am already on my way to your quarters xxx

The goofy, dreamy smile that blooms on your face disappears with alarming speed. Shit! He’s on his way!

You practically fall out of bed after flinging the covers back and immediately shuddering at how fucking cold your room is. Quickly, you strip and fumble through your drawers for some fresh clothes. Something casual but not too casual…wait. Hold the fucking bus. You look down at your phone again to check the time.

8:54 AM

Growling, you slam your dresser drawer. If you were meeting Copia at this time pre-events of last night you’d throw on a pair of leggings and a big cropped shirt and call it good. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do right now. He didn’t fall for you perfectly coiffed and styled, he fell for you being a hot mess. You never had to wear a mask in front of him before and you’re not about to start. Not after some of the shit he’s heard come out of your mouth up to and including last night. 

Anyway.

The shirt you pick is soft and well-loved, the gold grucifix he gifted you last night catching the light on your clavicle. Before leaving your room you give yourself a couple of spritzes of perfume and grab your phone. You barely have a minute to yawn in your living room when there’s a soft knock at your door. You count for five giddy seconds before walking over and opening it and you give the man before you a sleepy smile. He’s wearing what you have come to know as his “leisure clothes”, still sporting his paints despite the fact that it’s early and he’s off duty. 

“Buongiorno,” he says softly, hands fidgeting.

“Hey,” you murmur, your smile widening. The two of you stand on the threshold in silence for almost a minute when he lunges at you. The action makes you gasp but any sound from your mouth is muffled when he slots his own over it. You’re content to let him lick into your mouth for a moment, his gloved hands gripping at your waist when you come to a realization and shove him off you.

“Oh gross,” you back away and he looks horrified as if he’s done something terribly wrong, “It’s not you! I forgot to brush my teeth, shit. Sorry, sorry - give me a minute!”

He says something but you don’t hear it as you dash back into your room and take care of business, snorting at the way you’re once again smeared with his lip paint as you scrub. After you finish you take a moment to clean the black marks off your lips before returning to your living room. He still dutifully stands there, hands behind his back.

“Eh–mmph!”

You don’t give him the opportunity to say whatever he wants to say because in two strides you’ve launched yourself into his arms and latched your lips onto his. Gripping the sides of his red velour jacket you pull him towards your couch until his legs bump up against it and with an inelegant shove you push him down onto the cushions. The way he looks up at you, hair tousled and mismatched eyes filled with adoration, makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his freckled cheekbones.

“Copia…Copia I think I lo–”

A sharp - infuriatingly sharp - knock rings out in the room. You growl, your hands dropping from Copia’s face and your heart sinks at the way his shoulders sag. Another knock rings out and you exhale through your nose.

“Sorry,” you murmur to Copia before making your way to the door and opening it. It’s all you can do to not spit out a terse “what?” at the person standing there. The word is halfway out your mouth when Terzo gives you a goofy grin.

“Buongiorno, bella! You slipped away from us last night and oh, how we missed you. I…”

Terzo trails off and you realize that in that short amount of time Copia has sidled up next to you, a frosty expression on his face as he wraps an arm around your waist. You give him a curious look before looking back to Terzo, whose idiotic grin has somehow gotten even wider.

“Well, well, well now this is a surprise, eh? Congratulazioni to you both…”

Copia’s arm tenses around you as Terzo’s attention returns to you.

“So…how can I help you, Terzo?”

“Ah…right. The book you told me about last night…?”

You remember recommending something to him and hum aloud before breaking free of Copia’s grip and walking over to your bookcase. The tension between the Papa and his Cardinal is palpable and you grab the title and hustle back over to the door.

“Here you go. Uh…thanks for welcoming me to your celebration last night. It was lovely.”

He makes an amused noise.

“And productive too, I see. Well we’ll speak again soon, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Be safe and ah, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Ciao bella. Ciao Cardinal.”

You give him a tight smile before shutting the door and turning to your companion.

“Bit possessive for less than twenty-four hours in, no?” you say with a sly smile. Copia turns an impressive shade of red and takes a step back from you.

“I-I…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

You had only meant to tease him but it’s clear you’ve struck a nerve.

“Don’t be,” you say gently, moving towards him to place your hands on his chest, “You know how I like to fuck with you. And honestly…it was hot.”

The journey his face goes on makes you laugh out loud before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That being said, what was that about?”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a sigh.

“Eh…it’s a long story.”

“Hmm, well last I checked we’ve got the next two weeks off so by all means,” you gesture to the couch, “enlighten me.”

The two of you nestle into the plump cushions, Copia looking apprehensive. You scoot closer to him and sling your leg into his lap, grabbing his hands and holding them in yours. He looks down at your entwined fingers and he smiles softly before letting out a sigh.

“Terzo and I have always had a…well, I don’t think it’s necessarily accurate to call it a rivalry. He’s always found charming people easy whereas I…have always struggled. It started when I was in my late teens at the abbey in Roma - Terzo was a little older and had already taken his vows. There was this boy. Paolo. He was new at the abbey and I was smitten as soon as I saw him. Blonde hair in ringlets that would catch the light…ah dolcezza. And what a voice he had, always standing out in the choir. I was desperate to spend time around him, would accept any scrap of attention he gave me. This went on for months and months, me trailing behind him like a puppy. One day I worked up the courage to make a move and told myself I would approach him at a party that evening. I put on my nicest outfit, oh you should have seen me, cara. My mustache barely there. I thought I looked so dapper. I walked into the party and spotted his blonde curls over by the couch as he was draped on someone else. My heart…stopped. And when I saw who it was he was kissing…well. I’m sure you can guess, eh?”

“Jesus, Copia,” you breathe, squeezing his hand. “That is…incredibly fucked up.”

He nods. “But the worst part was Terzo knew how I felt about him. He knew and he still did it anyway. I cried myself to sleep every night for a week after that. Terzo had the nerve to approach me and tell me that I was ‘too good for him anyway’. Figlio di puttana…I swung on him. Right there in the cloister for everyone to see. The little bastard rat hitting an Emeritus brother. Secondo eventually pulled me off him but I did my damage. In more ways than one - Paolo had seen the whole thing. Wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore and eventually asked for a transfer to Puglia. I never saw him again.”

He gives you a sad smile.

“Needless to say it wasn’t the first time that would happen. And Terzo would always say ‘you were too good for them, topolino, they don’t deserve you’. Well it would have been fucking nice to learn for myself, huh? When I left the Roma abbey at twenty-one and was sent abroad I was finally able to come into my own. So eh. Now you understand why I acted…the way I acted. Mi dispiace.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say softly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I…I get it. We all have our trauma about relationships. I’ll tell you about mine in a minute but I do have to tell you this now…Terzo knew how I felt about you. Saw it almost immediately. Always encouraged me to approach you or spend time with you even when I felt self conscious about it. I can’t speak to his motivations when you were younger but I think he wanted us to get here. I mean, is it selfish and fucked up of me to want to thank him for getting you here?”

Copia nuzzles into your palm before turning his head and placing a kiss there.

“No, tesoro. I don’t think so. And…” he pauses, thoughtful, “perhaps Terzo knew none of those people were meant for me. Ah, that’s silly.” He shakes off the thought and leans over to kiss you on the forehead before looking at you with a cocked head.

“I..I suppose you want to hear my tale then?”

Your hand falls from his face and he nods.

“Only if you wish to share it.”

A deep gut-wreching sigh comes out of you and your hands fall to your lap.

“So, um. Middle school right? I was twelve. Odd…odd kid. Didn’t really have any friends, just a lot of people I hung around. Anyway, this new girl starts at my school in my grade. Hayley. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen - long blonde hair, tall, big blue eyes. And here’s the thing - she was nice to me. Liked me even! I couldn’t believe my luck and I was infatuated. I didn’t even know I liked girls until that point but she was special. So we became friends - best friends, even - and would constantly spend time at each other’s houses. Her parents had a pool so the summer before 8th grade I was always over at her place. One day we’re alone in the water and…Christ, I don’t know what I was thinking…I lean in and peck her on the lips. She freaks out. Starts calling me the nastiest names. Some words I didn’t even know until I heard them coming from her. We get out of the pool and she tells me I have to go home but wouldn’t let me use their phone to call my mom to come pick me up. So I walked home. In my sopping wet bathing suit and flip flops and no towel I walked almost two miles to my house. Jesus, I could’ve been…ugh. Anyway I finally get home to my parents who were flipping out thinking something had happened to me and I just collapsed in the driveway, crying. Sat there on the hot pavement and sobbed and sobbed and told them everything. So you know how it goes, my mom is fucking furious and calls her mom to scream at her for what she did to me, Hayley’s mom screams back calling me some choice fucking slurs. Distinctly remember hearing ‘fat little dyke’ shouted from the receiver. Meanwhile I’m just in my room petrified because I know she’s going to tell everyone when school starts again. Devastated because my only friend whom I adored now was disgusted with me and wanted nothing to do with me. It’s…” for the first time, your voice breaks, “it’s not fucking right for a little girl to go through that, you know? My parents saw the writing on the wall and immediately sent me to therapy but nothing could have prepared me for the first day of school. Kids ignoring me I could handle but their cruelty? Their mockery? I hid in the bathroom every day just fucking suffering. Whenever I saw Hayley it was like a knife in my gut. Finally it…got to a bad point. Like, a really bad point. I almost…anyway. I finally told my parents what was going on and they transferred me to a new school. But, you know, the damage was done.”

You reach up to wipe your tears with a derisive little laugh. Copia makes soft fretting noises at you and raises your hand to his lips to pepper it with kisses.

“Amore…I have no words. No words to describe how…crudele. Children can be so vicious. And for her parents to say such awful things about anyone let alone a child…” he lets out a low growl, “I am so sorry. My bellissima dolcezza…”

“Wow this is not how I pictured this morning going,” you say with a harsh bark of laughter, sniffling, “thought we’d have a little makeout session on the couch then go get some breakfast but you know, here we are. Trauma time.”

He chuckles and the sound warms your heart.

“Thank you for listening,” you whisper before leaning forward to nestle yourself in his lap. “Thank you for always listening, my love.”

Your ear is pressed to his chest and you hear the rumble of one of his little noises.

“And you, amore. We make quite a pair, no?”

You snort inelegantly.

“What, two traumatized, autistic, bisexual bitches?”

Copia lets out a strangled noise and his chest shakes as he dissolves into laughter with his eyes closed. You lean up and peck a kiss onto his jaw.

“So…breakfast?”

“Excellent idea,” Copia says, groaning as you shift off of him and into a standing position. You take his hands and haul him off the couch, still holding on even after he’s up.

“Promise me you’ll tell me about these someday?” you say, gesturing to his gloves. He shifts to his other foot and gnaws on his lower lip.

“Eh…yes. Another long story for another time.”

You sense his discomfort and you have no desire to press the issue. Instead you press your hand to the small of his back and steer him towards the door.

“Trying to get rid of me, tesoro?”

“Hardly,” you say, opening the door and urging him out, “I wanna get down to the dining hall while there’s still donuts.”

—

The rest of the morning is deliciously lazy, with the two of you lingering over your meal long past anyone else. You’ve gotten more than one curious look from a passing sibling, whose eyes flick from your clasped hands to the way you gaze at him, resting your face on your propped up hand. You continue to pick at your scrambled eggs long after they’ve gone cold, content to listen to him ramble (the current topic is medieval Satanic mystics.) He’s filled with such a wealth of knowledge it honestly leaves you in awe, as well as makes you a little giddy to know you have access to him and his beautiful, silly brain whenever you like. Yours. He’s yours. Your eyes trace the hollows of his eyes, masked by black paint, down the length of his long nose, across the spattering of freckles on his cheeks and down to his lips. His plump, soft lips and the way they felt molded to yours. The way he had you pressed against the stone wall of that empty corridor, groaning into your mouth and fisting your hair, his thigh slotted between your legs to press right up against your–

“Cara? Did you hear what I said?”

“Mmm…h-huh what? Sorry?”

The last word comes out of your mouth a little loud and very panicked and Copia cocks his head at you, looking alarmed. You clear your throat and smile sheepishly at him, hoping to God and Satan he didn’t notice you looking at him like that.

“I asked what you would like to do for the rest of the day?”

“I–oh! Uh…what time is it?”

He looks down at his watch.

“Almost 11.”

You rub your eyes. While you might have slept well last night, all of a sudden you’re bone tired. Rehashing horrible life events will do that, you suppose.

“How do you feel about going back to bed?”

Now it’s Copia’s turn to look panicked.

“What bed? Your bed?”

“Yeah, we can nap for a few hours then…I don’t know. Watch TV. Take a walk. Whatever.”

“A nap, right,” he laughs, eyes darting, “ah…I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dolcezza.”

A sinister little grin unfurls on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me? Think I’m going to take advantage of you?”

His face flushes so fast you’re honestly impressed.

“N-not quite eh…cazzo. Diavoletta mia, you are making this very difficult.”

“Oh that’s a new one,” you murmur, running a fingernail over his knuckles. “Diavoletta mia, I like that.”

He gives you a pained look, one that tells you how desperately he’s holding back right now and it makes you ache. All he needs to do is say the word and you’d let him have you. He’s held your mind and soul in the palm of his hand for months now, to give him your body would be your honor. And pleasure. But instead you smile gently at him, knowing how badly he wants to treat you right. You love him for it but goddamn your vibrator is going to be exhausted in the meantime.

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right?” You wince at your choice of word and judging from the way his eye twitches, so does he so you redirect. “C’mon, let’s grab a couple more donuts for later then go get some rest, huh?”

The trip back to your quarters is uneventful, both hands occupied with clutching your prized donuts wrapped in napkins, which you deposit on the counter of your kitchenette. Copia hasn’t said a peep since you left the dining hall and it’s got you anxious, worried that your suggestive behavior earlier was off-putting. 

“Hey,” you murmur, raising your hand to lightly grasp at his bicep and run your thumb over the muscle lovingly, “what’s on your mind?”

“Eh, n-nothing, nothing. I’m fine, dolcezza.”

He’s not, and you know he’s not, but you don’t interrogate him further. Instead you take him by the hand and drag him to the doorway of your bedroom.

“I think some well-deserved rest will do us both good, my love.” His mustache twitches in a smile at the endearment which makes you feel relieved.

“Do you want to…um…” you gesture at his eye paint and he looks like a startled deer once again.

“I–yes. Yes, of course. My paints.”

Disengaging from him you walk to your linen closet and procure a washcloth which he takes and shuffles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sigh and rub your eyes before throwing your mussed covers back and climbing into bed. Your phone gets plugged in before you settle on your side with your back facing the bathroom. Minutes go by - you’re not sure how many - and you open your mouth to holler your concern at him but ultimately stop yourself. The door opens quietly almost a minute later but you don’t turn to look at him, instead waiting for him to round the other side of the bed. When he does, you muffle a gasp at his wonderfully bare face. He nudges his shoes off and removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in a short-sleeved black t-shirt and his gloves. You’re overwhelmed - he might as well be stark naked before you for all the pale, freckled flesh you see - holding your breath as he silently peels the covers back and climbs into bed next to you. He settles on his back, staring at the beams on the ceiling and clenching his jaw. You scoot your body nearer to him, and place your fingers on his chin to tilt his face in your direction. He obligingly shifts onto his side, eyes darting everywhere but your gaze.

“Copia,” you whisper, taking in his deep-set eyes, the dark circles normally masked by black paint, and the long brown eyelashes, “you’re beautiful.”

He sucks in a breath and blinks at you, lips parted and pink from where he scrubbed the lipstick off.

“Amore…you…” he sighs heavily, “why do you care for this old man?”

You want to make a joke about hierophilia but can tell from his face this is not the time. So you settle for raw honesty.

“Copia…how could I not? After all the ways you’ve shown you care for me, how could I feel any other way about you? I—“

You can feel a lump forming in your throat so you distract yourself by raising your hand and tracing his crows feet and lines in his forehead.

“Copia, I don’t know of a better way to say this because I’ve never said it before but…I love you. I love everything about you - your mind, your wrinkles, your mustache. The grey in your hair and the way your ass looks in your cassocks,” he chokes out a laugh and leans into your touch, “Your kindness. Your infinite patience with me. The way you’re looking at me right now. I know we just…I don’t know became an item last night but…Copia you have to know I’ve loved you all along.”

Your tears are flowing freely at this point, sliding down your cheeks to soak your pillow and he brings a hand to the back of your head to draw you further towards him. Gently he kisses the salty trails on your cheeks, lips reverently brushing over your features. He addresses you by your name - not an endearment - and presses his forehead to yours.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo,” he murmurs hoarsely, “you are my everything. Tu sei la mia anima. My world. Thank you.”

You’re not sure how long he cradles your face - long after your tears have dried - and when he finally pulls away you feel both incredibly full and incredibly empty. He rolls onto his back and gently pulls you against him, your chin tucked into his shoulder and hand on his chest.

“Today was a lot,” you murmur, tracing designs into his pectoral.

“Bellezza mia,” he says and you can hear his smile, “the day is not over yet. It’s not even noon.”

You groan and smack him playfully, feeling him shake with laughter beneath you.

“Stop laughing at me and go to sleep, Cardinal Copia.”

He sighs, leather-clad fingers running through your hair.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, amore. Your company is far too enjoyable to be unconscious in it.”

It takes all of five more minutes before he starts snoring and you grin, your face pressed against him.

Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #curator reader series #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[railingsofsorrow]

you're worth fighting for

summary: sequel to old habits or... in which there's an angry love confession between exes

pairings: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader

warnings/content: heated arguments; language; discussion about a breakup; weapons; mentions of an altercation with an unsub that involves a gun; Angst!; suggestive content (no smut); grammar errors? I proofread this at 2am

a/n: the part 2 some of you asked for. this WILL have a part 3 so don't kill me. be patient.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[part 1] [part 3]

━━━━━━━━━

“why would you do that?” you bursted inside her office. everyone had left already, it was late, the jet ride itself was tiring because you had to stare at emily in front of you since it was the only seat left. you just wanted to lay down in your bed and rot honestly. but you couldn't do that without letting your anger out first.

emily had pushed you out of the way as the unsub aimed at you. he fired at her. it hit her arm, grazed it, actually, but still. she took a bullet for you and you were about to fucking steal that gun from him and shot him in the head for that. you were so mad, but your rage was directed at the wrong person and you would think about that tonight as you laid in bed, not now. because now, she needed to hear it.

“why would you get in front of me—”

emily barely looked up from the pile of files in her desk. “because there was a gun being pointed at you?”

“yeah, well, I had it handled!” you jabbed through gritted teeth.

she nodded, turning around to put something inside her bag. she had the audacity of getting her stuff ready to go home while you were furiously trying to talk to her. “sure. yeah. your idea was to take off your bulletproof vest like a damn martyr and go for a conversation? that guy was reckless and unpredictable, do you think that would've worked?”

you rubbed a hand against your face. “oh, I'm sorry I didn't listen to an order of my unit chief and now your ego is bruised, emily.”

that seemed to have an affected on her because it was the first time she reacted other than being completely blank since you walked inside her office.

her dark brown eyes narrowed at you, “my ego— that's not about me. you could've seriously gotten hurt. you could have gotten shot!” she scolded you as you raised a brow in response.

“well, I didn't because you pushed me out of the way with your fucking hero complex, so thank you.”

emily sighed in the way you knew she was tired of that conversation and she would do anything to appease you to get out of the situation. “what's gotten into you?”

you bit your inner cheek so hard that the metallic taste of blood reached your tongue. “nothing, emily.” you said with a resigned tone. already tired of being in the same room as her. “have a good night.”

the sound of her heels echoed through the room as you were about to leave.

“that wasn't about my ego.” you halted, hand wavering at the doorknob. “it had nothing to do with me, but if you had gotten hurt under my watch I would've never—”

“so it is about you in a way.”

emily brushed her hair back with both hands as she did when she was frustrated. “what do you want me to do? not care about you?”

you swallowed the urge to scream in her face, instead, you leveled your voice into a calm tone.

“i wish you cared before. I wish you cared when I was at your door begging you for a reasonable explanation for being dumped. that's what I fucking wanted, emily. I wanted you to choose me. but you picked paris and you picked london and you picked fucking interpol—”

and none of that was fair. she didn't choose paris. she didn't choose to be pulled into doyle's maddening scheme. but you weren't being exactly reasonable right now. you weren't mad at her but at the things that contributed to take her away from you. the things that took away the woman you loved.

her eyes widened slightly, lips parting in astonishment. she probably wasn't expecting to be cornered like that.

“god i just wished that for once you'd choose me.”

“i do.” she said, voice faltering. “I did.”

you shook your head “no, you didn't. you left every time. that's choosing me?”

“i thought I was protecting you.” she said, taking a step further into your space. you watched warily as she did it. a month ago she wouldn't as much as look you in the eye, but something changed these last few weeks.

something in her snapped. after the short conversation both of you had in that cold night, she couldn't get what you said out of her mind. emily made a lot of mistakes in her life, she would revisit them constantly as some form of punishment and the worst of those was letting you go. that was the worst thing she could have done, because it took a part of her away. she didn't felt whole anymore. it completely shattered her. but that was her choice, she had to deal with it. she had to work with you and watch as you laughed with your coworkers but only spared her a close lipped smile now.

it was easier this way, wasn't it?

no. it fucking wasn't. and emily was so tired of being selfless. she was done trying to play the hero, she just wanted to get the girl, was that too hard to ask?

“i made the terrible mistake of pushing you away and I regret that every single day since then.” she paused as you studied her closely, trying to decide whether or not she was being truthful. “i'd take a thousand bullets for you and there are no versions of any universe in which I'd let you get hurt because I can't bear the thought of losing you. so this?” she mentioned at her bandaged upper arm. “this is nothing.”

this was the moment where you'd rather emily just nod her head and let you walk out. she was good at doing that, she wasn't good at fighting, she was the type of person to avoid arguments.

you weren't ready for her to fight back.

“if you want to blame me for saving you, fine. do that. but I won't stop because I love you and I won't stand to see you in danger and do nothing about it.”

“you what?” you blinked up at her, feeling your heart beat hard against your ribcage.

emily itched to touch you, but she contained herself. “i love you.” she said instead, gaze falling to your lips and then moving up to lock her eyes into yours again.

now was the time she was supposed to profile your micro expressions and conclude your emotions. that didn't happen. emily couldn't focus on anything besides your closed distance and your perfume and you.

you exhaled slowly, taking a step back but was promptly cornered by the door. “you can't say that.”

“why not?”

“you're not supposed to say that.” emily frowned as you stepped aside and started pacing around the room.

“and why not?”

“because, emily!” you hollered with a certain desperation in your tone and she couldn't be more confused on what you were talking about. “you—you're not supposed to admit that out loud. you can't—” your eyes ran around her office in search for something that you seemed to find in her desk. “you can't have a picture of us in your desk. or call me sweetheart when you think I'm hurt in the field and you certainly can't say you love me six months after breaking up with me!”

“but I do!” emily exclaimed to match your raised tone of voice. “i never stopped. and I'm done trying to hide it.”

“why are you doing this now?” you questioned with batted breath.

“it's not too late for us,” emily raised her hand to gently touch yours. her touch burned you and you wanted to just bury yourself in her arms for good. that was how you felt safe. “i want to fix what I messed up, please tell me it's not too late for that.”

you stared into her eyes, drowning in the brown that took you to burned leaves in autumn season. eye contact. that was a form for you two to communicate through roundtable meetings, in the field and literally any outings between the team. it was affectionate. loving. intimate.

you were never a fan of eye contact before emily. it felt uncomfortable with other people, almost violating. but with emily it was... comforting. her way of telling you she was there and that she understood you.

she truly did. she still does. and that's scary because that meant you wouldn't be able to move on or if you even wanted to.

you had convinced yourself that emily was the love of your life and that she was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. she was it to you. but she crashed that reality by giving you a poor excuse before leaving for london and slammed the door in your face as you went back demanding a truthful explanation.

you don't know if you wanted to go back there and have your heart crushed by her again.

“i have a date tomorrow.”

maybe it was better to play it safe this time.

“what?” her face fell. “with who?”

“it doesn't matter.” you squeezed her hand and let it fall to her side as you withdrew yours, taking a deep breath. “i'm going home. you should too. get some rest.” your eyes lingered on her arm. “and take care of that arm.”

“is this you telling me we don't have a chance?” emily tilted her head, her chest clenching with the painful reality. missing the warmth of your hand on hers.

you held onto the doorknob until your knuckles turned white.

“i don't know, emily.”

“then don't go.” emily croaked out, pleading. “give me a chance. give us a chance. I promise you I will try to fix everything and I won't let you down again.”

your lips tugged downwards. “i don't want you to fix everything, emily. I want you to start communicating and trusting me.” you paused, sadness and longing pulling at your heartstrings. “look, we can start being friends again. that's all I can offer you right now.”

she nodded, the spark in her eyes hiding behind the hurt. but there was determination in her gaze, you didn't know the reason behind it.

“that's—that's great. okay. I-hm, I hope you have fun tomorrow?” you raised a brow at her, doubtful, and she huffed out a chuckle. “this is me trying.”

you smiled, opening the door and shaking your head. “okay, prentiss.” you turned to her before leaving, a teasing glint as some sort of peace offering. “in that case, I'm sorry I snapped earlier. I was out of line. I... I'm thankful for what you did.” for saving me.

emily brushed you off and went back to fixing her desk. organising files, placing pens and pencils vertically. she was nervous.

“you would've done the same.”

“yes, I would.” you answered without a second thought. you would take a bullet for her and she would be mad about it but she would forgive you eventually, because though both of you might be hardheaded and argue like two dragons fuming when things don't go your way, you're not strong enough to be mad at each other for a long period of time.

“the craziest thing about me?” emily repeated your question during your game of twenty questions. it started as simple questions like her favourite season and your favourite color but then it came the wine and a few shots of a good whisky she had kept in her apartment and all innocent inquiries became drunk stupid questions. like the one you just asked her.

“yes, em.” you winced at the strong taste of whisky down your throat as you took another shot. maybe that should be the last one... “the craziest thing 'bout you. what am I gettin' myself into. what should I be prepared for, ya know... these kind of stuff.” you clarified as if you didn't know her for a long time already. you knew her as friends, coworkers. but now she was your girlfriend.

“you,” she pointed at you with a lazy smile and you felt like kissing her whole flushed face from how adorable she was being. “you should definitely be” hiccup. “prepared for the emotional baggage I carry and... and the— oh!” her eyes lit up as she recalled something. you fondly stared as she crawled towards you and placed her hands in your naked thighs, a giddy smile stretching over her lips.

you couldn't help it, you kissed her this time.

“craziest thing about me is that—” she hummed in satisfaction as you kissed down her neck. “i, mhm... I don't give up easily. yeah, I'm... oh, you're gonna be the death of me.”

you chuckled into her neck, rubbing her cheek lovingly. “okay, finish your sentence. you're...”

“i'm very,” her eyes met yours and she smiled biting her lip. “very hardheaded. so if, one day, you get tired of me—”

you snorted, “never happening.”

“... you should probably know that, if we have the slightest chance, I'll fight for you.” your eyes softened at that. she was definitely drunk and you wondered if she would even remember that in the morning. she cupped your face, gaze lingering at your mouth as if she was trying to figure something out and your lips had all the answers. when she looked up, there was a spark of determination and a bit of joy too. “you're worth fighting for.”

you giggled like a schoolgirl, feeling dizzy due to the amount of alcohol you've had the whole night. yeah, you should definitely stop. or the next words will be you admitting you're falling in love for her.

“okay, em.” you drawled out as she lifted your chin, tugging your lip between her teeth softly. your eyes dropping shut. “then do it. fight for me.”

see, the thing about emily prentiss was that she was stubborn. when she got something in her head, she would work for it until she got it. if she saw that she had even a small chance in her favour, she would pursue it.

and if something was worth fighting for, or in that case, someone, there was really no other option. she would move heaven and earth to get you back. because you were worth it.

━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @ravensbug ; @lez-talk1 ; @chiefemilyprentiss ; @snoopyaah

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss one shot #lesbian emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x female reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[teddybeartoji]

lays down and kicks my feet, tell me some thoughts you have about satoru, draws circles on your blog with my finger

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII JAZZ HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII:3333333333 IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU HEREE HEHEHEHHEEE i have a bunch of smaller headcanons for him i hope that's what you were looking for!!!!!!!!

HE DROOLS WHEN HE SLEEPS!!!!!!!! like actually drools. he also snores but the snoring is so fucking cute??????????? i hate him why is everything he does always so perfect?????????? bro can't even fucking drool and snore in a bad way smhhhhhhhhh

HE LOVES WATCHING YOU DO "HARD WORK"!!!!!!!!! and by "hard work" i mean shit like carrying around heavy things and idk putting together furniture or smth lmao. it most definitely turns him on too.......... there's just smth abt your dirty clothes and your sweat and your concentrated face and he loooooves when you tell him that you don't want his help!!! he always offers bc he's a Gentleman like that even though he knows you don't necessarily need it. but the way you just go "no-no, i got it." gets him going!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he wants youu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's bringing you drinks like he's a proper malewife and then proceeds to just admire you while you work lmao.

HE LOVES CALLING YOU!!!!!!!!! calls you over the smallest things. he just wants to talk to you and he wants to hear your voice!!!!!! some of the calls are literally just minute long (and that's only bc he spends 30seconds on saying that he loves you), while some calls are hours long. oh and he absolutely adores if you do the same. he wants you to call and send voice messages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOSES HIS SOCKS ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he steals yours btw. he's constantly going "baaaaaaaabee! have you seen my sock?!" while the said sock is literally sitting on the chair right next to him SMHHH ok but when you show it to him he just turns to you with a dopey smile and gives you a sloppy, haste little kiss, mumbling how he doesn't know what he'd do without you............... i wanna marry him jazz i wanna marry him

LOVES KISSING YOUR TUMMYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's always smiling while doing it too. you could just be lazing on the couch, scrolling on the phone and he's crawling on top of you. he pushes up your shirt just so he can see and feel your skin before pressing light, gentle kisses on you. if you peek at him from under your phone, you'd just find him staring back at you with sparkling eyes.

HE DOESN'T LIKE TEA???????? idk this just feels right okay... don't judge me i am an avid tea drinker so i am upset abt this too. no matter how much honey or sugar you put on it, he's always scrunching his nose at the taste. he is willing to try different ones just for you but i really feel like he's not a fan of any of the flavours. (FLAVOUR???? TEA FLAVOUR???? idk english is weird ok)

(he knows exactly how you like yours though. suguru has taught him how to make good tea, so satoru relishes in making you smile whenever he surprises you with a cup!!!! he knows when you want it too; he's a bit of a mind reader honestly. you sit down on the couch and he's already marching into the kitchen with a mission. it's his love language<33)

SHOWERS EVERY MORNING!!!!!!!!!! i think he loves showering. just overall. it gives him so much energy and it makes him feel so good, so fresh - it's the best way to start his day!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also sings in the shower. or more like yells in the shower. a lot. he's dumb and i love him. and then he always steps out of the bathroom with wet hair and just like a pair of pyjama pants on and he smells so fucking good aaaand it makes you wanna get him all dirty again!!!!! i said what i said.

(he sometimes just leans on the doorframe as he's brushing his teeth and just grins at you knowing full well that you wanna EAT HIMMM)

OKE I THINK I'M GONNA STOP HERE BEFORE I FULLY LOSE IT!!!!!!! BUT WAHHH I LOVE TALKING ABT HIM SOOO SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR DROPPING BY AND THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME JAZZ<333333333333333 I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING AN AMAZING DAY MY LOVEE MWAH MWAH MWAHMWAH!!!!!

#MY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #HE'S SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOYFRIEND #SOOOOSO BOYFRIEND #IT'S CRAZY #HE'S LITERALLY A LOVERBOY #LIKE HE'S JUST MEANT TO BE A LOVERBOY #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #my sweet angel #angel boy #jazz <3 #friends!! #mickey is daydreaming #gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo fluff #gojo satoru

[unseededtoast]

Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part Four

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

"They don't believe me." Your words shatter his heart completely.

"Don't worry about them. You're all that matters right now."

For hours, you've sat in the same spot at the dining room table, watching Spencer work with a tenacity you have never seen before. His eyebrows are drawn tightly together, his tongue darts out between his lips as he concentrates. Every so often he runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

You feel like you should be helping him, but you find yourself all too distracted by the simple fact that your stalker knows where you live. Who knows how long he's known, and what else he's done that you're not even aware of. The thought of a stranger walking around in your apartment makes you sick to your stomach.

But what really sends you over the edge is the fact that your stalker took an item of your clothing and then returned that same night to deliver the folder. He was right outside of your door while you sat petrified in your bedroom and he now possesses a part of you, no matter how small that part is.

The thought of what he's using your sweater for sends a chill down your spine and you shudder. Your sudden movement must have snapped Spencer out of his trance and he sets down the picture he was analyzing. You see the sleep-deprived bags under his eyes and know you likely don't look any better. His eyes soften as he looks you over.

"You should get some rest, you've been at this for hours." Your voice is scratchy from not speaking. Spencer is quick to shake his head.

"I'm fine, you should go lay down though, I know you didn't sleep all night." Though his guess is accurate, you won't admit it.

Before you answer, you take a second to let your eyes focus on his hand resting on the table. Under different circumstances you may even say the veins in his hand were oddly attractive, but you refuse to let that thought run wild and instead focus back on the matter at hand.

"No, really I'm fine." You fight the urge to yawn and you know you don't have him fooled in the slightest.

He stands straighter and crosses his arms across his chest. Like you're a child being reprimanded, he gives you a stern look, one that lets you know exactly what he's thinking. A silent exchange occurs only through the look in each other's eyes. His are golden-brown, like fresh honey, and they transport you to a time when things were simpler.

For a moment you're taken back to your first day at the BAU. You were fresh out of the academy, recommended to the team by your trainer. The nerves had your stomach twisted and upset, and you vividly recall walking through those glass doors for the first time; your heartbeat pounded in your ears with each step. Everyone had been welcoming, warm, and kind. And you very distinctly remember seeing the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. His hair was long, maybe just a touch messy, but it was the kind and reassuring smile he offered that let you know you had made the right decision to join.

And now, sitting only a few feet away from him, you can't help but to feel reminiscent. Your relationship with Spencer had grown far deeper than with anyone else on the team. You had been there when he was wrongfully imprisoned and now he's here when you're being stalked. The two of you celebrated the arrest of each unsub together and worked wonderfully as a team, playing to each other's strengths.

A feeling within your chest flutters, one that you've been trying long and hard to suppress. And it had worked for a long time, that is until very recently.

"I know you're not fine. Please, just come on." His voice is soft and he offers his hand out to you. Not thinking twice, you take his hand in yours and let him lead you to the sofa.

Without you even having to ask, he makes sure that the curtains are closed and you watch as he scans the street for anyone who looks out of place before he sits next to you. He's warm and inviting, and if given the opportunity you know you could fall asleep in his arms.

You lean your head on his shoulder instead, and he wraps his arm around you, hugging you closer to his side. His hand rubs up and down your arm, comforting you as you allow your eyes to flutter shut.

Not another word is shared as you feel yourself being lulled to sleep by Spencer's presence. Just having him near is enough to make you feel safe and secure. You vaguely feel him lay you down on the couch, and you feel a pressure to the top of your head. And you're not sure if you're hallucinating or half-dreaming, but you swear you could hear him whisper to you,

"I promise that I will find who is doing this to you."

-----

Hotch arrives at the office early in the morning before anyone else. His signature scowl is plastered on his face and he's deep in thought about what Derek presented to him yesterday. While the system clearly shows that you were the one who made all of the alterations to the case reports, something deep within Hotch tells him that you're innocent.

There's just no way you would go to these great lengths for simple recognition. But it seems the others on the team are convinced you're behind all of this. Their insistence is the only thing giving him pause. He makes a mental note to follow up with them again sometime today, perhaps there's more that wasn't initially disclosed. There's just no way they've all been swayed by simple electronic records, ones they know are hackable.

Hotch sits at his desk and looks over the reports again and again, hoping that the answer jumps out at him. And it's on the fifth re-read that he notices something. It's a very small detail, but he thinks it could be an important one. He grabs a highlighter and begins marking up the reports.

After a few hours, Hotch walks down to Penelope's office. When she opens the door she's surprised to see Hotch on the other side, but she knows that whatever he's here for is something serious; Hotch doesn't make these visits often.

"Can you show me the video footage on the night that the document changes were made?" He asks, nodding to Penelope's plethora of monitors.

"Certainly sir." She says and sits down, pulling up the footage. She's watched it a hundred times, she knows this video like the back of her hand.

Hotch sits next to her and she plays the video. Just as she watched with you, and the others, the video has been tampered with. The shadows on the ground make that obvious.

"So someone got into the computer system and altered the footage." Hotch states the obvious.

"It appears so, yes." Penelope says, nervous about where this conversation is headed.

In the past day Penelope has had the same conversation with just about every other member of the BAU. Each of them didn't want to believe you had orchestrated this elaborate scheme, but they couldn't ignore the evidence.

Everyone was reluctant to admit that they believed you were responsible; Spencer was the only one to flat out deny your involvement. He was adamant about it, and his passion caused Penelope to second guess the others.

Of course she would never say that out loud, but it caused her to do some digging. She remembered how upset you were about the flowers, and she wasn't sold on the narrative that you had planned this for recognition and praise.

"Is it possible for you to-"

"Already ahead of you sir. I got into the system and looked for interferences. And it shows that she was the one who got into the camera systems as well, only a few minutes after the documents had all been changed. And it was her badge that scanned into the office." Penelope cuts Hotch off, eager to share what she learned from her sleuthing.

Hotch nods his head shortly and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. There are only a few people in this building with the kind of expertise to be able to pull something like this off. But he is apprehensive to accuse anyone of anything without further, concrete proof.

"Can you send this to me, along with the edit history?" Hotch stands from the seat and goes to leave Penelope's office, who sends him the video right away.

Being no stranger to situations like these, Hotch knows he has to keep this investigation under wraps. Especially if the team has seemingly turned their back on you. The BAU has had their fair share of rough moments, and during those moments the team always stuck together. But for some reason, this caused everyone to doubt you. It just isn't adding up to Hotch.

He returns to his office and looks out into the bullpen. Everyone is working diligently and he plans on how to handle this. While he forms a plan, he picks up his phone and makes an important call.

-----

"What do you mean I can't go in?" You ask Spencer, who just got off the phone with Hotch. Spencer sighs and sets his phone down on the coffee table. Running a hand through his hair he answers,

"Hotch said it's best if you stay out of the office while he figures out what's going on. He didn't say much about specifics, just that it would be best if you didn't come in." The words feel like a hot knife being pushed through your heart. Does this mean you're under investigation? Will you be suspended from the bureau?

You sit down on the couch, shocked about what's happening. As if being stalked wasn't bad enough, it might actually cost you your job? Not only your job, but some of the closest friends you've ever had?

Rubbing your eyes, you try to make sense of it all, but you just can't. There has to be something you're missing. There's a missing piece of the puzzle, that one piece would complete the picture. But now, it's just fragmented and incoherent.

"What am I missing? There were the flowers, the document changes, the re-tagged evidence, the tampered video, and now the folder." You speak, mostly to yourself but you know Spencer is listening as well.

You rub your temples as you try to connect the dots. Obviously it tells you that there's a stalker, and the evidence points in the direction of that stalker working for the bureau but you cannot figure out why the stalker would take those specific actions.

"Whatever it is, we will find it and we will find who is doing this." Spencer's voice is low and even, the determination is obvious. He moves to sit next to you, his leg only a few inches from yours.

You turn your head and look at him. His hair is disheveled from the amount of times he's run a hand through it in frustration, but it's charming.

"And what if we don't? Spencer you know how these things end." You simply state. As you say the words you realize you're not speaking as a profiler, but rather like a victim. And you're not sure how that makes you feel.

Spencer places his hand on top of your thigh and gives a reassuring squeeze; your heart races with the contact and you try to hide the feeling so that he can't perceive it on your face. The way his eyes dart down to your cheeks and lips make you think you didn't do a great job of hiding it. His tongue wets his lips and he goes to move a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"I don't care how many times I have to repeat myself. But I promise you that I will not rest until we find who is doing this to you. I will hunt down the man who is making your life miserable, and I will make him pay for what he's done." His words are laced with malice and venom. You nod your head and swallow, unable to think of anything coherent to say.

After a few moments, Spencer squeezes your thigh again before he gets back up to analyze the folder for the thousandth time. As he walks away, your heart swells with gratitude, and your skin buzzes where his hand was.

-----

Spencer walks into work with a feeling he can't quite place residing in his chest. It's something raw, and intense. His focus feels like it's been dialed to 100.

While he felt bad for leaving you at home alone, he knew that he would be able to do his best work here, without distractions. He had dedicated every piece of evidence to memory and was sure he would see the full picture soon.

But until then, he's got a job to do. And that job is to track down whoever is making your life a living nightmare. Spencer is unable to find the words to describe how upset he is every time he sees you looking over your shoulder in fear, or fending off sleep because of anxiety.

He hadn't felt a rage like this in a long time.

Spencer drops his bag on his desk and walks to Hotch's office. During the call Hotch made to tell you to stay home, he had also told Spencer that they needed to talk as soon as he got in. He isn't sure whether or not it's in your defense, but he knows it has to deal with your situation.

Hotch's back is turned when Spencer enters and as he turns around Spencer sees the file in hand and the scowl on Hotch's face.

"Please, sit." Hotch takes a seat and motions for Spencer to take the one across from the desk. Spencer tries to get a glimpse of the file Hotch has, but he's unsuccessful.

"We have some things to discuss." Hotch speaks again with a sigh. Spencer nods, agreeing. He only hopes Hotch believes you're innocent as well, or else he fears this discussion might become heated.

"You've probably already seen the electronic records with her credentials and the tampered video, I assume?" Hotch questions.

"Yes, I've seen them." Spencer doesn't give more information than necessary, not until he knows which side Hotch is on.

"Give me your unbiased professional opinion." Hotch leans forward on his desk, fingers interlaced and elbows resting on the wood. Spencer blinks a few times, trying to formulate an opinion void of personal feelings.

What he realizes is that he's been handling this entire case almost entirely with his personal feelings. But he recovers quickly and soon finds the words he's looking for.

"I think that she is being stalked by someone who works here. But not a regular agent, I believe it's someone pretty high up." Spencer says. Hotch nods, stoic expression not revealing anything.

"And why do you believe that?" He tilts his head just slightly to the right, something that tells Spencer that Hotch is genuinely interested in what he has to say. It's one of his small giveaways.

"Well, there are only a few people here that would have the expertise and ability to access and change credential logs like that, and to be able to get into the system and change the video. It would also take someone within the bureau to know where she's located at within the building, to send the flowers to. And whoever it is would have enough working knowledge to know how to retag evidence properly." Spencer rattles off, becoming more and more confident with his theory as he speaks. It's like saying this all out loud is helping him connect the dots.

Hotch takes a moment and nods while he studies Spencer's face and body language. It's usual profiler behavior and Spencer has seen him do this hundreds of times before with other people.

"But what else?" Hotch eventually asks. Spencer's shoulders tense up and his eyebrows scrunch together.

"What do you mean?" Spencer questions, recounting the evidence and what he explained. What more could there possibly be to say?

"You raised you hand like you had something else to add onto your explanation, but then you said nothing. What else were you going to say?" Spencer curses Hotch for being so observant just this once. With a sigh, Spencer decides it's easier to just lay everything out as plainly as possible.

"I know she didn't do it because I was with her the nights before everything happened, for the most part." Spencer doesn't elaborate any further, wanting to keep your relationship with him as much to himself as possible. Hotch's eyebrows raise in surprise, but he recovers quickly.

"I see. You'll be glad to hear I don't think she did any of this either. But what we think and what we can prove are two different things here." Spencer is all too familiar with this premise.

In fact, the similarities between this and his wrongful imprisonment are beginning to share too many things in common. You're being framed just as he was, evidence was planted and tampered with, and you're scared out of your mind because you don't know how this is going to end.

But not only that, he remembers in vivid detail how you helped him find sobriety after Tobias Hankel, how you stayed by his side through the entire journey when he was terrified. And he remembers how supportive you were when Maeve died right in front of him. You had shown him love and compassion when he thought neither of those things existed. It was you who stuck beside him through it all.

Spencer remembers the fear of being framed and the anxieties that accompanies the unknown. He hates that you're experiencing this, and he so badly wants to take it all away. And he knows the only way he can do that is to catch whoever is doing this. Now it's his turn to return the favor, to stick with you until the end. With strong resolve, he leans forward in his seat.

"So what's our next move?" Spencer asks Hotch, ready to put in as much work is needed.

Hotch nods his head and explains to Spencer his plan. It's simple, but should be effective.

-----

Hours later, Spencer sits at his desk, trying to look like he's busy. All he can think about is how you're doing back home, he worries that you're scared and wants nothing more than to run back to you; to keep you safe and away from the man wreaking havoc.

His daydreams are cut short as the agent from the IT department walks through the doors. The agent walks into Hotch's office where Hotch asks him to see if he can find any evidence of credential fraud.

The agent sits down at your desk and Spencer can't help but notice how nervous he looks. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are darting every which way as he acquaints himself with your space. Spencer's eyes narrow in suspicion and decides to keep a close eye on the man.

Spencer finds an old report and acts busy, when in reality he's watching the man's every move with careful and clinical eyes. He notices how the agent's eyes linger on the flowers sitting on your desk, and how he keeps momentarily looking at your photos.

Alarm bells are sounding off in Spencer's mind and he has to remind himself to keep calm. He reminds himself of what's at stake and forces a nonchalant demeanor. His knuckles turn white with how tightly he's gripping the paper in his hands and he's thankful the agent isn't a profiler, otherwise it would be a dead giveaway about just how angry Spencer is.

The agent works diligently, and then Spencer sees it. The man's shoulders go rigid, he holds a breath, and his eyes grow ever so slightly larger. He swallows and looks around the office before returning his focus on the screen in front of him. Spencer pretends not to notice.

While the agent is obviously dealing with some sort of turmoil, Spencer is envisioning lunging across the table at him and demanding answers. When he realizes his train of thought, Spencer knows he hasn't had these kinds of violent thoughts since he spent time in prison.

And somehow, he's okay with it. He knows that if it led to finding answers that he would be okay doing whatever it takes. He's also quick to understand the lengths he's willing to go for you and the risks he's fully prepared to take.

Abruptly and without a word, the agent returns to Hotch's office, just out of earshot from Spencer. And within minutes the agent is hightailing it out of the office, not even sparing a passing glance.

Curiosity gets the better of him and Spencer goes to speak with Hotch almost immediately. Sitting behind his desk with a troubled look on his face, Hotch's eyes flick to Spencer as he enters the room.

"Please, close the door and have a seat. We have some things to discuss. There's been a slight change in plans." Spencer closes the door quickly before taking a seat in front of Hotch's desk.

Spencer's heart beats heavily in his chest and it's like he can feel the blood pumping through his veins. Before Hotch says a word, Spencer knows that whatever he is about to say is nothing good.

"What happened?" Spencer barely recognizes the serious tone of his voice. Hotch sighs,

"The agent told me he found evidence of AES 128 bit encryption." Hotch says and Spencer's heart sinks.

"Rijndael Algorithm. It's never been cracked before." Spencer says, his heart rate increasing as his mind processes what this means for the case.

"I'm going to put Garcia up to the challenge. But I believe you're right, whoever is doing this is very intelligent and has a lot of access to our systems. With that said, I'm going to have her placed under twenty-four hour surveillance." Hotch says matter of factly. Spencer shakes his head,

"I'll be there at night, she wouldn't want to be constantly watched like that." He tries to advocate for the least invasive surveillance possible. Deep down he knows that the twenty-four hour monitoring is safest, he also knows you're likely to protest about it.

"I believe in your abilities to keep her safe. I'll put in for twelve hour surveillance, with additional overtime as needed." Hotch nods his head and Spencer thanks him.

The only thing on his mind now is getting back to you as quickly as he possibly can.

-----

You jump as loud knocks on the front door echo through your apartment. Normally you would go and answer it without a second thought, but you catch yourself worrying about who is on the other side.

Three more knocks sound off and you approach the door cautiously.

"Hey it's just me." Spencer's voice can be heard through the door and you release the breath you had been holding.

You answer the door for him and he wastes no time coming in. He turns and locks the door as soon as he's inside and he doesn't bother taking his shoes off before he's buzzing around. He's closing the curtains and pulling the couch away from the window like a mad man with thirty seconds to complete the mission.

"Spencer what's going on?" You feel a new wave of anxiety bubble up within you. You've never seen him act like this before.

Spencer stops moving around and you see him take a deep breath. He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand, and your eyes grow wide. You've seen that mannerism before, but you haven't seen it in so long. Something bad happened while he was at work today. Something very bad.

When he opens his eyes he walks up to you, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. He places his hands on your shoulders and looks into your eyes.

You see a tenderness in them, but you also notice almost a crazed intensity, like his mind is working a hundred miles a second and he's having trouble keeping up with himself.

"I will explain everything shortly. But please let me do this first." You nod wordlessly and watch as he walks back into the living space. He tosses blankets over the curtain rods to make sure nobody can see through the windows.

He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and moves the couch even farther away from the window. And just for a split second your fear is forgotten as you admire the way his biceps flex under the material of his shirt.

There's something about his behavior that seems different, and you can't help but be attracted to it. Like a moth to a flame or a bee to clovers, your eye is drawn to every move, every flex of a muscle.

After he's satisfied with the changes, he walks over to the dining table and opens the folder. You had put away all of the photographs earlier, you couldn't stand the feeling of having them out in the open, it was like they were taunting you.

Spencer spreads the materials back out across the table and leans forward. You see his eyes dart over all of the pictures and the notes before he stands back to his full height and tugs at his tie, loosening it from his neck.

Your eyes stay glued to him as you step forward. His eyes glance from the photos to you and you can see how his face instantly softens.

"Will you tell me what happened now?" You ask and he nods, gesturing for you to join him on the couch.

You listen intently as he explains that Hotch believes you're innocent and that he had called in one of the IT workers. And a fresh wave of nausea came over you as he explained the encryption that was found. This most definitely is not just some guy, no, this is the work of someone sophisticated and organized.

"But, listen to me, I will not rest until we find him. Believe me, there is no obstacle too challenging. I promise you that I will not stop until you're safe again." Spencer says following a few moments of tense silence.

You've done so well to hold your emotions together, well, the best you could anyways. Up until this point it was only fear that you felt, but that fear has morphed into several other things much more terrifying than simple fear. You bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling and blink rapidly to keep from crying.

Your breaths are shaky and you look down at your lap. This is no longer just affecting you, but the whole team as well. Spencer and Hotch are willing to go out on a limb to prove your innocence while the others are convinced of your guilt. You feel guilty about the anger you harbor for your teammates who don't believe you. And truthfully, you don't know how you will be able to move forward after this.

This stalker has already taken from you something near and dear to your heart; they've taken your team.

It's then, when you accept the reality of what is, that you let the first tear fall. It's full of anger and sadness and remorse, and just a little bit of love.

Spencer envelopes you in his arms and the dam breaks. He holds you close to his chest, your tears staining his shirt. But he doesn't seem to mind. No, instead he hugs you tightly and presses the most delicate of kisses to the top of your head. You grab onto the front of his shirt and let the emotions finally break free.

-----

Spencer cradles you in his arms and as you cry it breaks his heart just a little more with each sob. He hates seeing you in such distress. Once you finally calm down a little, you sniffle and look up at him with wide, watery eyes.

"They don't believe me." Your words shatter his heart completely.

"Don't worry about them. You're all that matters right now." He says, running a hand up and down your back to try and soothe you. 

But your words remind him that he needs to speak with the team about this situation. Even he can't believe they've apparently turned against you so easily. It makes his blood boil; the team is supposed to stick with each other, not work against one another. He does his best to suppress his own anger towards them, knowing that if he expresses his distress that it will likely only make you more upset.

Instead, he focuses on nothing except you in his arms, and his anger dissipates almost immediately. He doesn't think he'll ever admit it out loud, but he secretly loves the way you cling to him. He loves how you trust him, how you confide in him, how you've taken care of him and stuck beside him through thick and thin. He loves the way your smile brightens his day, and how even the smallest glance sends butterflies soaring through him.

He presses another kiss to the top of your head as he realizes and admits to himself for the first time that he's in love with you.

He is absolutely and undeniably in love with you. And God help whoever threatens his love.

---------------------------------------------

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

congrats on the 1k follower count Hype!! Here’s my ficlet request: M (“this can’t be happening… it’s just a dream..”) + 🕯️ + hurt/comfort + taking placing in the (You got me) in the palm of your hand-verse!

Thank you so much! ❤️ This was a fun, fluffy write, I hope you enjoy it. 🔮✨️

Fate don't know you (like I do)

Words: 988

Rated: T

Tags: Established relationship; No UD AU; anniversary; idiots in love; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as (You got me) in the palm of your hand

Steve is just lighting the last candle when he hears the key in the apartment door. He quickly shakes out the match, then settles crossed-legged on the living room floor. 

He can hear Eddie bustling around in the hallway - his keys dropping into the bowl, the thud of his work boots coming off. It leaves him with just enough time to smooth out his costume and arrange his hair. Just enough time to look at his work and wonder if maybe he overdid it a notch. But then the doorknob turns and it’s too late for doubts.

Eddie shuffles into the room without switching on the light. His overalls are half-unzipped already, revealing a long, pale triangle of his throat and chest, the black ink of his tattoos. His hands are trying to free his dark curls from the clutches of his hair tie. He’s muttering under his breath, something about stupid, fucking alternators and stupid, fucking customers. 

He’s halfway across the room before he realizes the sofa isn’t in its usual spot. 

He pauses, one hand still in his hair, incredulous surprise creeping into his features as he takes in the room. The tablecloths and bed sheets draped over the walls. The way the furniture has been shoved into the corners to make space on the floor. The pillows scattered across the ground, and the sofa table at the center of the room, hidden under another tablecloth. The empty glass jars that have been placed on every available surface, meticulously covered in colorful parchment paper, candles glowing softly from within. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his eyes land on Steve. 

“What the fuck?” he murmurs, eyes raking over his billowey shirt and the velvet curtain-turned-cape, the fucking leggings and the cardboard crown with the fake gems. Steve smiles and rubs at his prickling neck. 

“Um, surprise?” he says. “Happy anniversary.” 

Eddie takes a step towards him, then pauses again. His throat bops as he swallows, but his face still shows nothing but confusion. 

“What is all this?” he asks. His voice cracks around the last syllable. Steve suppresses a grin and leans back on his hands. 

“Well, I wanted to do something special, so I thought I’d recreate the scene of our first meeting.”

“We met in highschool, you dork,” Eddie snarks, but he does sink down on one of the pillows opposite Steve. His eyes continue to roam over their surroundings, large and brown and full of wonder. “Where’d you even get all this stuff?” 

“Where we fell in love, then,” Steve says impatiently. “It turned out great, didn’t it? I borrowed the sheets and the pillows and stuff from Claudia. Remember that super important family matter in Hawkins two weeks back?” 

“The one where you told me not to come.” 

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Exactly. I would have loved to have actual lanterns, too, but getting that many would’ve been way too expensive, so I had to improvise. I think they turned out okay, considering what I was working with, but if you tell me to eat another fucking PB and J sandwich for the next year or so I’ll- … hey, whoa, what’s the matter?” 

Because Eddie has finally turned and is looking at him, and his entire face is twitching with raw emotion. His hands are trembling in his lap. His eyes are still bright - too bright in the low candlelight, way too bright, and shit, shit, shit, what's going on? 

Steve is up on his knees and slipping into Eddie’s space just in time to brush the first tears away.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. He swats Steve's hands away to rub his arm over his own face, but doesn’t pull out of his embrace. “Fuck, I'm sorry.” 

“No,” Steve stammers. “No, Eddie, I am sorry. I mean, I dunno what for, exactly, but I must've done something wrong for you to-” 

“I thought you were leaving me, you stupid dickhead,” Eddie blurts. 

Steve's words wheeze to a stop. 

“What?” he says when his brain finally manages to reboot itself. “I mean how- … Why would you even think that?” 

Eddie rolls his pretty eyes at him, but there's a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Oh, gee, Stevie, why would I think that? You've been acting all secretive, going back to Hawkins and refusing to tell me what you're doing there, locking yourself in the bedroom for hours, hiding bags full of bed linen in your car-” 

“Aw, what, you saw those?” 

“You're not as subtle as you think, big boy.” 

Eddie winks at him and leans in for a peck on the lips, but when he pulls away, his face is serious again. 

“And also because …” he mutters, pulling a strand of hair from his ponytail to twist it between his fingers. “I dunno. Sometimes, I still look at you and I think … this isn't happening. It's all in my head. It's just a dream. Because there’s now way, is there? No way I’ve scored the prettiest, sweetest, most romantic doofus in that shitty little hellhole for a boyfriend. No way that you’re here with me, that you’d ever want me like this.”

“What?” Steve hums, splaying a firm hand over the base of Eddie’s neck to draw him closer. “You mean like this?” 

He only allows them to break the kiss when they’re both flushed and gasping for air. Eddie’s eyes are still bright when he looks at him, but this time, it’s the good kind of bright. 

“Can’t believe you thought that,” Steve murmurs, pulling the zipper of Eddie’s overalls further down with one deft hand. “You honestly didn’t see this coming?” 

Eddie huffs a laugh against his lips. “For the millionth time, honey: Not actually psychic.” 

“Well, good,” Steve smiles, slipping the overall off Eddie’s shoulders and pushing him down onto the cushioned floor. “That means you also don’t know what else I have planned for tonight.”

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

[cherry-holmes]

REGRET

(Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Credits of the gif on the image.

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Finding out you’re pregnant create a split between you and Javier. He soon will discover that one can regret they own words.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: Writer prefer to not give details to prevent spoilers. Read under your own responsibility.

A/N: Hello👋🏻 This is a little something that came to my mind when a saw this gifs last week🧍🏻‍♀️ Let me know in comments if you like it👀

------------------------------------------------------------

Javier and you have been dating for a year and a half now. It started as something casual. You were just neighbors, then you used to talk about the weather when you crossed paths in the building. Then, he invited you for a drink, and you ended up in his bed.

He told you he was a DEA agent, and you talked about your community service as an English teacher in Bogotá.

Javier was funny and charming. He always treated you like a princess and fucked you like a slut. He was attentive, but he worked a lot. You never seriously talked about what exactly you were, but you spent much more time at his place than yours. He hadn't given you a key, precisely, but he told you he had a copy on top of his door so you could enter when you arrive and he was still at work. He picked you up from the school, and you cut his hair when needed.

Life had been busy, and you never really stopped to ask him if your relationship had a label. The truth is, neither of you had actually stopped and asked each other what would come next when he caught Escobar and/or you finished your community service.

You never thought about it, until that damn morning.

"Fuck."

It can't be happening. Two lines on a pregnancy test were the last thing you needed. You looked at it for a long, long time, trying to process what was going on. You wanted a blood test to confirm, but there's a reason why you already took a pee test. Morning sickness and a delay in your period activated the alarms. You hadn't told Javier anything yet, but it was only a matter of time now.

That afternoon you went to the laboratory, and by noon you received a phone call confirming the results. You were, indeed, very pregnant. After you hung up the phone, you cried a lot. How were you going to tell Javi? What would you do with your job? What were you going to tell your parents? Did you really want to have it... him/her?

You felt the urgency to make a decision in that very moment. Javier was going to ask you when you told him, and you knew he hated the "I don't know."

It took you one, two, three hours, and you had an answer. You knew it was the right one because you thought it would take you a lot longer to decide. But when your heart landed in the same place over and over so quickly, you simply knew it.

Javier came home late at night, but earlier than usual. He looked tired and pissed, and he let his weight fall on the kitchen chair to devour what you had made for dinner. You looked at him the entire time, and the nervousness in your chest made it impossible to eat anything. You wanted to tell him. You couldn't contain the news any longer.

"Javi," you began. He didn't look at you for more than a second before his sleepy eyes fell on his plate again. "I have something to tell you. It's very important."

"What is it, babe?" he asked, his voice slurred.

"I..." You fought the lump in your throat, encouraging yourself to tell him. "I'm pregnant."

Until that moment, you didn't know what you expected. You didn't imagine him crying with emotion and jumping around the apartment, screaming to the four winds that he was going to be a dad. But you didn't imagine what his real reaction would be, either.

Javier didn't even look at you. He dropped his fork, leaned back in his chair, and passed his hands over his face. It wasn't a surprised, emotional reaction. He was pissed. He was cursing the situation.

You didn't say anything as you felt your heart and soul sink into your stomach. Disappointment washed over you as you saw his reaction. You tried to think of something else to say, but you went blank.

"We can't," he finally said, really looking at you for the first time that night.

"What do you mean we can't?" your voice was only a whisper.

He looked at you like you were crazy. "You're not seriously thinking about having it."

Your mouth went dry, but tears welled up in your eyes. "Well... I do."

Javier's face hardened. "It's not safe, not with what I do, not with Escobar still out there."

"We can figure this out together," you said, your voice quivering. "I-I know this country is dangerous and this is probably not the right time, but is already happening and I..."

"Are you sure you're...?" he began. It hurt you the fact that he couldn't even say it.

You stood up and reached for your purse. He saw you as you placed both the pee and the blood test in front of him.

"Puta madre." Javier stood up, pacing the kitchen. "Did you take the pills?" he demanded.

You nodded. "I do. But they're not a hundred percent effective."

He ran his fingers through his hair in an almost desperate gesture. "I can't do this. Parenting is not on my plans, and you know it."

"I didn't want this to happen either, Javier, and I'm sorry," you said, trying not to cry. "But you need to people to make a baby. So, we have to figure this out together."

"Don't complicate things more," he added. He made his way to the living room, pacing like a caged animal. "Think about the consequences. I can't risk my focus on this job for this."

Tears streamed down your face. "So, what? You want me to get rid of it?"

"I think it's the best option for both of us."

After a long, cold moment of silence, you shook your head, stepping back. "I can't believe you."

He sighed heavily, looking away. "You don't understand... it's too dangerous."

"I don't care," you cried. "I'm gonna have this baby. With or without you."

He sighed. He saw the determination on you. Now he needed to make a decision, since you're not going to change yours.

"Ok," he said finally. "It will happen, but you need to go back to the States."

"No," you sentenced. Javier couldn't believe your stubbornness. "I'm not going to leave, either. I can't leave the school. Those kids need my help."

He was doing his best to not completely lost his patience and say something (more) that he could – and will – regret.

"I can't concentrate on my job and take care of a pregnant woman," he sentenced, adding your name at the end in a way you had never heard before.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Well, then don't worry about me. I can handle this on my own."

Javier stared at you, his eyes dark with frustration. He thought of his parents. They didn't raise a man who shirks responsibility, one who doesn't own the consequences of his actions.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. Finally, Javier sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No," he said. "If that's what you want, fine. You'll have my financial support, but that's all. As soon as you finish your community service, you'll go back home. I'll send you money, that's it."

"I don't want anything from you, Javier. Not if you're not going to do it with real love," you whispered, heartbroken.

Javier's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He turned away, staring at the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I never saw myself as a dad. I don't think I ever will," he admitted. "That's all I can offer. I'm sorry it's not what you expected. I'm sorry I can't be the man you need."

------------------------------------------------------------

Days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Javier seemed to be stuck in a constant struggle of awkward interactions and avoiding each other. He started working even later, and sometimes he didn't even spend the night at the apartment. He came back the next morning smelling like whiskey and cigarettes. When he did sleep at home, he took the couch while you slept on his bed. When you woke up in the morning, he wasn't there.

Both of you finally reached an agreement. You recognized that you needed his help, and he was aware that he had to be responsible for the situation. You moved in with Javier so you wouldn't have to waste money paying rent. Moreover, you would return to the US when you were seven months pregnant. He would conclude his duty in Colombia however long it took. Neither of you wanted to talk about what would happen then.

Your belly was now thirteen weeks along. Soon, Javier found his place filled with baby stuff. Every day he discovered something new you had bought: tiny clothes, maternity clothing, maternity books. His bathroom smelled like the body cream you used to apply on your belly, and there was a list of pregnancy-friendly foods hung on the refrigerator. He could tell you were putting your heart into preparing for the baby, and at times he felt guilty for not being able to find his own paternal instinct.

On the contrary, you were caught in a fragile rhythm. He continued his dangerous work, and you dedicated yourself to your work at school.

Nights were still lonely, but at least you had your baby. You talked and sang to them. You applied anti-stretch mark creams to your belly, and read everything about babies and labor. You were excited to meet your baby boy or girl, but sadly, at the same time, you felt heartbroken because you loved Javier, and you wished he was more present during the process. However, you had to accept that it wasn't mutual. He didn't love you; he never truly did and probably never would. He just liked to fuck. You should have known it before. Maybe you did, but you were so in love with him that you thought you could change him. Either way, it was too late now.

Javier gave you more money than you needed to cover everything you needed. He never said no when you told him you needed medicine, to pay for a doctor's appointment, or special food that didn't provoke nausea.

But he never went to those appointments with you. He never asked how they went, either. He never showed any interest in the progress of your pregnancy. It was as if he had completely detached himself from the situation, leaving you to navigate the journey alone.

Or at least, that was how you saw it. The truth was, Javier was having a difficult time processing the fact that he would be a father. He had never seen himself getting married, let alone having children.

Furthermore, there was something terrifying about having a baby in Colombia during the war he was fighting. He had witnessed men fall, leaving widows and orphans behind.

He realized that he was more scared of leaving you and his child alone in this chaotic and unfair world if something happened to him. Or worse, he feared that you have to pay for his sins and mistakes. He couldn't bear the thought of that, and he often had nightmares about losing you both.

He didn't know how to express his feelings for you. He couldn't let himself relax and just settle into the nest with you.

One of those nights, when he decided to come home earlier after work, he found you sleeping in bed. You had an open book beside you on a page about what to expect during the second trimester. You had fallen asleep in an awkward position, so he had to gently wake you up to help you move into a more comfortable one. You mumbled in your sleep, calling his name softly and sweetly. Javier felt warmth in his chest, a need to cuddle with you, touch your belly for the first time, and hold you and the baby close.

But he just couldn't do it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. He limited himself to tucking you in with a warm blanket and opening the window for fresh air, as you liked it. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and put it on your nightstand because he knew you got thirsty in the middle of the night.

Javier observed you for a moment, peacefully sleeping, carrying his baby. He missed your soft lips and your fingers in his hair. He missed making you laugh and talking to you about each other's days. And now, he longed to make things right and try to win your heart back.

Tomorrow, he said. Turning down the lights, he went to his place on the couch.

But tomorrow was too late.

------------------------------------------------------------

He left early in the morning to attend an emergency meeting at the Embassy. Steve spend all morning complaining about Messina and the tie-and-suit motherfuckers, but Javier's thoughts were on you.

He was lost on his own thoughts, trying to find the right words to tell you. He was still scared, but he was determined to try. To make it work.

He was on his desk, a report on his hands but he wasn't reading it, when his landline rang.

"Peña," he picked up.

"Is this Javier?" a woman's voice asked urgently.

"Who's this?"

"This is María from the school," she said. He immediately knew something was wrong. He barely remembered María, you had presented each other last year on your birthday.

"There's been an emergency," she continued explaining, anguish filling her voice. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Javier's heart dropped. "Is she okay?"

"She collapsed in class. They think it might be related to her pregnancy. You need to get to the hospital as soon as you can."

Javier didn't waste a second. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the Embassy, ignoring Steve's confused shouts. The drive to the hospital was a blur, his mind racing with fear.

What happened? You were fine last night... Didn't you? He felt a pang of guilt. What if you didn't felt well but you didn't say anything because you thought he would be mad? Fuck... He should be more available for you. You should trust him.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, he rushed to the reception desk, asking for your name. The nurse nodded and directed him to the emergency room. His heart pounded as he approached the doors, dread settling in his stomach.

He found you lying on a hospital bed, pale and hooked up to monitors. The doctor was speaking to a nurse nearby. Javier's throat tightened as he stepped closer.

The doctor noticed him and approached. "Are you related?"

"Yes, how is she?" Javier asked, his voice shaky.

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry to inform you, but she lost the baby. There was nothing we could do. It was a miscarriage."

Javier felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. He looked at your unconscious form, tears welling up in his eyes. "Can I see her?"

"Of course, but she's sleeping right now," the doctor said gently. "She's stable now, but you had to sedate her. This has been very traumatic for her."

Javier nodded and moved to your bedside. He took your hand in his, feeling the weight of his own failures crashing down on him. He had failed to protect you, to be there when you needed him the most.

Hours passed as he sat by your side, holding your hand and watching you sleep. When you finally stirred and opened your eyes, he was there. His eyes were teary, reddened from his contained emotions.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm here," he said, squeezing your hand. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have done more."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I lost my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, little sobs escaping your lips. You were still in a haze of sedatives and mourning.

Javier nodded, his heart breaking at the pain in your voice. "I know. I'm so, so sorry."

"No, you don't," you said, hurt and anger painting your weak voice. "You didn't want my baby."

"I was scared," he confessed, his voice cracking. "I didn't know how to handle any of this. But I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to lose our baby."

You shook your head, tears streaming like rivers down your cheeks. The gaze you gave him was filled with anger and resentment, piercing through his chest.

"Fuck you," you cried.

Javier flinched as if you had struck him. He looked away, unable to bear the intensity of your anger and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible.

"You never be there for us, so don't come and say you're sorry," your words melted into an unstoppable crying. You felt like if your heart would literally broke into a million pieces. Grief and exhaustion weighing heavily on you, you felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

"I know I can't make this right. I know I failed you. But please, let me be here for you now," he pleaded, but there was nothing he could say to soothe your unbearable pain.

"You're a piece of shit, Javier," you spat, your voice trembling with anger and grief. "I don't want to see you ever again."

You turned away from him, your tears flowing freely.

He lingered for a moment, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, but when none came, he slowly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, feeling the crushing weight of his failures. He had lost not only his child but also the trust and love of the woman who meant more to him than he had ever admitted.

#javier peña fic #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal #fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #imagina javier peña #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javierpeña #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader

[abouttofillhisshoes]

ok so now that I’ve traumatised everyone I’m requesting 22 for mpind matty!!

I’m going to sleep let’s hope I don’t dream of ginger roots shaped like butt plugs because!! that would be horrible!! anyways mwah <3

-legend anon🩵

this is sooo old i hope u still wanna see it!! don't remind me of the figging thing im positively gagging and not in a good way. Anyways onto the actually blurb length blurb

22. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

wc: like 1k?? not much, that's for sure

content warnings: not really smut but also kinda, use of the word juxtaposition (soz guys), marking, exhibitionism, sub!Matty, teasing, jealous girlie, typical MPIND Matty cockiness

You're overreacting, you know you are. It's not that serious.

But it is.

Matty stands there, surrounded by people, all of them listening to him telling a story, hands moving erratically to emphasize his words, pausing to let people laugh at his crude humour every few seconds, most of them too drunk to even realise what he was talking about.

That wouldn't be an issue, not normally. The girl next to him is the source of your feeling of unease, hanging onto his every word and getting a bit closer with every giggle, touching his arm while batting her eyelashes, looking up at him sweetly. Something inside of you stirs at the scene, and your legs carry you across the room in direction of Matty, not stopping to think for just a second.

Pushing your way through the circle of people surrounding him, muttering quiet excuses as you walk up to the center where he stood, wrapping an arm around his waist. Matty looks at you, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, right in front of everyone. The girl that was coming onto him visibly rolls her eyes, taking a small step back and turning her attention to her drink, downing it.

A smug smile spreads onto your face as he finishes up his story rather quickly, leaving out key details as you impatiently tug on his shirt, urging him to come with you. Excusing himself, he follows you keenly, knowing exactly what got you like this.

The sound of his back hitting the closed bathroom door is loud, the sounds of his slightly tipsy giggles only making you more aggressive, feeling him up as his hands settle on your waist.

"What do you think you're doing, letting her touch you like that?" you voice is harsh as your nails ghost over his neck, tracing down the hollow of his throat.

"Jealous, are we? Didnt take you for the possessive type." Matty's grin is teasing, and he purposely throws his head back, exposing more skin to you.

"Don't act coy, its pissing me off."

"I only have eyes for you, you know that." he puntucates his sentence with a hand on your chest, softly touching your tits over your top. His movements are measured, fluid, and driving you insane.

"She doesn't know that." you hiss, mouthing at the skin of his neck, nipping and biting it. Matty lets out a satisfied sigh, leaning into the familiar sensation. Your hands find his hair, tugging it back in that way you know he loves, a soft moan spilling from his lips.

"Show her who I belong to then, mark me yours." the way he speaks is low, challenging, almost mocking you for your reaction. You shoot him an annoyed look, his smirk only spurring you on. Your teeth graze over his throat, leaving deep purple hickeys all over his neck, no area remaining untouched.

His strained sounds as you get more and more aggressive make you smile, barely giving him time to breathe between hot kisses full of teeth and tongue, directly followed by those same lips back on his skin sucking dark marks into the skin.

The bright light of the bathroom perfectly illuminates your work, the contrast of the hickeys against his pale skin make your breathing get a bit more shallow than usual, a change that doesn't go unnoticed by Matty.

"Enjoying the view?" he sniggers, cocking his head at you. The expression on your face is one he knows and loves all too well. One of lust. Passion. Adoration.

"Cocky." you mumble, trailing your fingers over his collarbones, pressing down lightly, making him hiss in pain, a filthy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Wanna show me off then, have them all see what you did to me?"

"Don't act like that's only what I want," you pull at his almost fully unbuttoned shirt, toying with the loose buttons. "We both know how much you love belonging to me." Matty goes quiet, his rapid blinking telling you everything you need to know.

"Hm. I need you to answer me, love." you can practically see him light up at the use of the pet name you use sparsely, his eyes soft as he stares into yours, lips parted slightly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" You taunt, letting your hands cup his face in a sweet manner, a delicious juxtaposition to the condescending way you're speaks to him. Matty takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It's rare that Matty gets even the smallest bit shy, but fuck, do you relish in it when it happens.

"I want people to see me, see how you own me." he smiles down at you, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist, pressing your body flush against his. The soft rumble of his voice goes straight to your core, and you clear your throat, much to Matty's amusement.

"I'm yours." he adds, a delicate finger running over your bottom lip, smudging your stick lipgloss. His nails are chipped with purple nail polish, matching his belt perfectly. His fashion sense is one of the things you love about him, not matter how 'odd' or 'girly' other people find it.

"You're mine." you speak softly, the kiss following mirrors the tenderness between the two of you, your lips moving against each other with devotion, hungrily drinking in each others reactions as they came, echoing off the tacky blue tiles of the bathroom wall.

Matty is proud, grinning wildly as you exit the bathroom, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his jeans so low waisted in was bordering on obscene. The looks the two of you got were mixed.

Some people raked their eyes up and down his body, gaze flicking between you and him before it finally clicked, their head quickly turning away from your direction.

George sees you as well, groaning as he spots the obviously fresh hickeys from across the kitchen counter, clutching the liquor bottle in his left hand. Handing you a mystery drink, he says a few words into your ear.

"Do you have to do that here? I dont want to think about you and him getting it on." George visibly shudders at the thought, shaking is head as if to get the mental image out of it.

"Soz mate, but this is payback for having to listen to your relentless shagging on Halloween." A party Matty had thrown months back for Halloween had led to George hooking up with a girl from your form, the walls proven paper thin as everyone had heard everything. You cringe at the memory, the sight of a few hickeys paling in comparison the the torture you had to endure that night.

George rolls his eyes just in time for Matty to pull you away, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist, playing with the mesh of your his top.

"Alright?" he asks, pressing an endearing kiss to the corner of your mouth, the smell of wine filling your senses. You nod, intertwining your fingers as the two of you wade through the crowd, and you spot the girl from earlier.

Your body moves faster than your head, and you grab Matty's lower back, turning him to face you. You can feel the girl's eyes on you as you kissing him messily, taking his lower lip between your teeth as he gasps into your mouth.

Her footsteps are aggressive as she walks away, muttering under her breath. You smile against Matty's lips, content with yourself. Finally, you let go of him, your hands lingering on his chest as you trace what you left behind, a hazy feeling clouding your mind.

"Got what you wanted?" his tone is provoking as brown eyes find yours, face flushing a gentle shade of pink. The music is muted as everything blurs around you, the only thing worthy of your attention being the person standing right in front of you.

"You know 'm not done yet." you lean in to him, bringing your lips up to his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"Far from it, actually. I'm going to show you just how much you need me, no matter how convincing your little display of confidence might me, hm?" his breath hitches at your words, his eyes darting around the room at the dozens of people surrounding you, blissfully unaware of the filthy things you're painting his fantasies with, scenes playing out behind his eyes like a film.

"Meet me outside in five minutes. Say goodbye to your little friend for me, yeah?" with that, you leave him standing there, breathing unsteady and knees weak, threatening to buckle under him.

It doesn't take long before you have him shoved up against the hood of some random car, the darkness of the moonless night concealing you. Matty's moans are like music to your ears, your lips against his getting harsher as seconds pass, feeling for like hours.

"Please, take me home. I need you so badly, please darling, i'll be so, so good for you-" you cut him off his a finger pressed to his pretty pink lips. He wants you, he yearns for you. The way his back arches forward at even the slightest tells you everything you need to know.

Who are you to deny him?

#hey yall #guess who's back #no one cheered #its a bit rushed #i just wanted to get something out #hope yall like it!! #not proofed at all soz xx #the 1975 #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #mpind matty #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #truman black

[anonymouscheeses]

Vaggie and Valentino are connected and no one has been talking about it (I think 😭)

Brutha. I've always known this but like these two are surface level similar yet so SO SO SOOOO different its terrifying.

Question might be, why tf am I comparing the r*pist and the beautiful, gorgeous, fantastic, inspiring, humble, generous, smeggsy, former angel?

Simply because they are both moth demon's that speak Spanish. It's a bit too specific. And rlly that's kind of all I have right now. Sure, you could say "erm actually, Vaggie isn't a moth demon 🤓" and ur probably right. But if she's not, why is it that in her redesign for the show they lean into the moth hair? It's look much MUCH more moth than in the pilot. So if Viv wanted to stray away from the moth theme, why make it look more like that? She may not he exactly a moth demon but she does have intentional moth features. Perhaps Vaggie just disguised herself like that, either way, still a connection..

I would get it if one of them were in helluva boss jst as a way to recycle and make room or whatever. But no, they are in the same show, same world, same ring of hell, same city(I think). It's a weird connection and I kind of don't want it to exist. Like at all. Because if they are connected I can't think of any other way they are except that Val could be a fallen angel. Which I CANT imagine. Unless Vaggie is like, a winner that became an exterminator, but genuinely that would be a bit complex. But what isn't in this show. Then again, Adam said he created her, or that could be a metaphor for that Vaggie was never noticed as a human and just brushed off to the side so therefore Adam "created" her (created a name and image/status of her). But that's unlikely, I don't they would be that smart lmao.

Personality wise, they both have anger issues. Pilot Vaggie and show Valentino are more alike but show Vaggie is still somewhat spicy. They also both have hot voices, sorry not sorry, like fuck Val (not literally) but his voice is BAZINGA 😍 and I'm a simp for Stephanie Beatriz. I'm a simple gal.

Design wise they have rare commonalities. They are both heavily red but thats everyone in the show it make my eyes bleed. But. A weird thing someone pointed out in a slideshow on tiktok is that show Valentino has white stripes on his hips. Me personally I'm not sure what to think about it really. Like I mean it IS a new detail that spawned AFTER the pilot and it is like... on the EXACT place. But like, it's such a weird thing to include when it's such a common pose yknow?

Also the X's on the boobs are so sensual I cannot be the only one. And ykno Val is the king of sensual (🤮)

Maybe you could be asking, "if Val and Vaggie r connected jst because they are moth demons then that jst means that anyone that are the same species are somehow tied to eachother huh? 🤓" like Angel Dust and Zestial. But what I think differs from that is the fact these two have actual big similarities apart from jst the fact they are moths. Like what I just explained, personality, design, both speak Spanish. While Angel Dust and Zestial are only just both spiders. Angel's reason for being a spider is due to the ykno, "web of crime" thing. And Zesty man? Idk he probably got bit and fucking died by a poisonous spider. I mean, health shit wasn't exactly great back in his ye olde time.

For Val and Vaggie we have NO idea why they are moths

But I did find this! From google AI.....? (I didn't even know that was a thing..) but, I think it's true. It explains the dynamic with Angel alot and I think that's an interesting detail.

Which could also apply to Vaggie because of her hyper-dependency on Charlie.

Plus this fits Vaggie so. SO much. If my theory that Vaggie just disguised herself as a moth to blend in then that would be a good connection to the entire moth motif. Love, I don't even need to explain.

It can fit Val too if you think abt the disguise part a bit. Like he disguises himself as this charming and calming figure to avoid suspicion and lure victims... fucking creepy 🤮

Also in Vaggie's past designs she was more moth.

Here is like. ONE image I could find that wasn't too blurry. Like I wouldn't say it's heavy moth but I think if you asked me what insect she was based off I would guess moth in like a few minutes. The colors being dark, the fluffy legwarmers. Yum, that's a mothy. (THIS DESIGN YHO KINDA PISSES ME OFF. WHY IS THERE THE FEMALE SIGN OK HER SHIRY I THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT IN THIS VER??? also str8 vaggie scares me don't ever bring up that thing around me. They are NOT the same. #notmyvagina)

From what I know there aren't any previous old beta designs of Valentino, so he was likely made for the show specifically.

Overall, they are both sexy Spanish speakers who are moth demons, in the same show, oddly specific connected design choices, and have some anger issues.

Oh also they both hate Angel Dust 💜

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin vaggie #vaggatha #vaggie #hazbin hotel vagatha #hazbin vagatha #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel the vees #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin thoughts #hazbin theory #hazbin the vees #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel the radio demon #i kind of dont like this theory but UGH its such a weird thing?? like its such specific details that connect them i hate it. #and ive always been side eyeing them like. wtf r u two?? why r u a bit too similar. i hate that. stop. #but like yea thats it. i want it to not be true. cz what of Val is actually Vaggie's dad. another one added to the daddy issues club uggh 😒 #chaggie #rainbowmoth #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #varlie

[simpshiggyy]

School Girl Crush

-pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader

-summary: this guy has the locker above mine and I love the way he looks down at me to talk. it makes me wanna suck his soul right there that instant.

-warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, emo boy! choso, public sex, oral (m! receiving), pet names (pretty girl and good girl), mdni

-wc: 1.3k

Not spell checked so there may be some misspelled words!

The final bell ring echoes throughout the facility telling everyone that it's time to leave for the day. You collect your things and place them into your bag so that you can head towards your locker. You're bag isn't quite big enough so you have to hold two of your bigger books on their own. Heading to your locker is definitely a trip on it's own considering it's at the back corner of the building. You don't mind it though. Nobody wants to make that trip when they can have their locker closer to their classes. Maybe four people actually use these back lockers and one of them have always caught your eye. You crouch down onto your knees since your locker is on the floor. Placing each book neatly into the small space. That is until you fell a presence behind you.

"Excuse me" the deep, husky voice says. Chills run up your spine knowing exactly who it is.

You look up and your eyes meet with his. It's Choso Kamo. You like to describe him as the hot emo boy while your friends say he looks tall, dark, and spooky. Just how you like them. He's not the most social or outgoing so your friends don't really understand your appeal towards him. He's just so fucking hot.

A wave of heat hits your face. "So sorry I can move out of the way" you start to say as you begin to slide out of the way.

"Don't worry. I can reach over you to get to my locker" he replies. You continue to look at him as he looms over you. He reaches to place his books into his locker before looking back down at you. "Do you have any plans this weekend?"

"Just playing some video games with a couple of friends. How about you?" you reply. There was something about the way he looked down at you while you two were at your lockers. His dark hair is kept in a spikey up-do while his bangs rest gently on his forehead. 

"I was thinking about doing the same thing. How about we play games together some time?" 

The next few minutes of talking with your little crush definitely took a turn for the best. He's got you shoved against the lockers kissing on your neck, strong veiny hands gripping the plush of your hips. You can't help but run your fingers through his hair with slight tugs when he starts to suck on the sensitive skin. 

Choso shifts to lock lips with you. Quiet moans from the both of you as you move a free hand down his toned abs covered by a thin fabric to finally reach the bulge in his pants. You palm him while kissing him oh so deeply. You always thought about doing this but never saw it as becoming reality. Who knew that talking to Choso about playing some silly little game would result in you being in this situation. 

He pulls away from the heated kiss much to your disappointment. That is until he speaks. "How about you get down on your knees and be a good girl for me huh?"

Your cheeks flush red from the sudden pet name. You nod and start to lower yourself until he moves a hand up to grip your throat. "You're capable of using words right? I know that you've been eyeing me for months now. You aren't very subtle about it. Tell me that you'll be a good girl for me and suck me off."

The sudden change in his tone made your legs quiver. The way he was so assertive with you in the moment was making you go crazy. "I-I'll be a good girl for you Cho."

A smirks appears from him. "Good."

He releases his grip from your throat encouraging you to lower onto your knees. Looking up at him you start to undo his black jeans. Seeing the bulge through his boxers was intimidating. You pull his boxers down causing his cock to spring out hitting his covered stomach. 

Fuck. It's bigger than you thought it could possibly be. 

Wrapping a hand around the girth and giving his tip a delicate kiss. You can hear a small moan escape his lips. You want to tease him but anticipation of this moment takes over. You wrap your lips around him moving your tongue around his length. Adjusting to him was hard and he was getting even harder at the sight.

"Ugh you're so pretty with your lips wrapped around me." Choso says as he runs his fingers though your hair with one hand. The other hand grabbing his shirt and lifting it up to get a better view. 

While trying to adjust to his size it feels as if you're going painfully slow for his liking. Your head bobs on his cock. Slurping up any saliva that tries to escape your lips. Choso grabs a fist full of your hair causing you to moan. Vibrations from the back of your throat going against his throbbing tip. 

Choso grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. "Stick your tongue out for me baby.... just like that" he says in a sultry voice. He glides his thumb over your tongue and slaps his dick tip onto your tongue a couple of times before face fucking you. He ruts into you causing you to become a moaning, gagging mess. Drool pools out onto his dick and onto the floor. 

Vibrations from your moans onto his dick is making him go crazy. The sight of you looking up at him through your lashes with tears in your eyes just does something to him. He could cum right then and there if he really wanted to. 

"You're so nasty for me right now. I should've done this forever ago." Hips bucking at you eagerly. Your hands on his thighs, nails digging into the fabric of his jeans. The feeling of you clawing at his legs just about sends him over the edge. 

He loosens his grip on your hair when he feels one of yours hands reach up to feel his tense abs and the other wraps around his girth. You start stroking his cock and wrapping your lips completely around him. Slurping and moaning against him at almost the same speed he was thrusting into your mouth. 

He drags out a long moan when you bottom out on him. The feeling was just too much for him. "F-fuckkkk." You can feel him twitch at the feeling. "I think i'm gonna cum pretty girl."

As soon as he says this you suction around his length, dragging back on it resulting in a wet 'POP'. Another moans drags out of his lips. Looking up at him stroking his cock with both of your hands now. "Do you want me to help you cum Cho?"

He looks down at you flushed. "Make me cum pretty girl. You deserve it." With that being said you spit on his tip earning another moan from him. You stroke the saliva all over his throbbing cock and you can feel him twitch against you. "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck" he says. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out invitingly. He grabs another fistful of your hair and angles his tip at your tongue. Cum shoots out onto your tongue, dripping down with how much there was. Stroking him and milking every last bit of cum from his pretty cock. Swallowing what you can and then swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip to get every last drop. 

"So, you still thinking about playing some games with me tonight?" You say in a teasingly way.

"I think we can head back to my place and do a lot more than play games pretty girl. How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfect."

#choso #choso kamo #choso smut #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader

[chicago-geniza]

Friends: What do you mean transition has not really affected your physical appearance

Me: [Fig. 1, age 14; Fig. 2, age 29, almost 3 years on T, post-top surgery, post-hysto]

#I look Exactly the same but I don't have hair #Literally indistinguishable just Jewish NOS #Aging has also not really affected my appearance. I am frozen in time like a bug in amber

[zxal]

3 extra people in your head = 4x the hairstyle opportunities

#yugioh arc v #ygo arc v #arc v #zuzu boyle #yuzu hiiragi #celina #serena #rin #lulu obsidian #ruri kurosaki #arc v art #my art #drawing this made me realize how much more similar zuzu + co. look to each other compared to yuya + co #zuzu and celina in particular have pretty much exactly the same hair just in different colors + worn differently #rin + lulu are the outliers with shorter + longer hair respectively but even they still have the two strands framing their face #i kinda struggled with rin tbh i feel like i don't have a good grasp on her personality and it comes across when i draw her #but i ended up feeling like high pigtails / low pigtails / high ponytail / low ponytail was a good contrast between everyone #(and rin with her hair down just looked like lulu) #their colors don't clash nearly as bad as yuya + co.'s do either so there's a bit more cohesion among them - #- which is ironic considering the boys are the ones with identity issues and the girls are the ones with greater independence comparatively #but i've said too much already...(tugs my hat down and walks away pensively)

[aaami]

just playing around with some tools to figure out what Azem might've looked like in my canon :^)

#kuu (they/them) #i like to think that kuu and azem don't look exactly alike #but both are nonbinary and have same hair and eye colors #but their personalities are very similar #i think their name should be luneth #luneth was a name i considered for kuu #it means the same tho; moon

[nick-eyre]

I'm an Ianthe puke yellow truther

#honestly now that im looking at it she could be yellower #this is just a colour test I started on my lunch bc we have three characters with long blond hair now and jeepers they gotta look different #I keep seeing Ianthe and Alecto with the same skin and hair colour and guys respectfully no #Ianthe is gross don't forget #also I have such a hard time with Coronabeth like ik she looks exactly like Ianthe but not so gross but she feels so different #like idk #sketch