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#kind of scandalous please have mercy
ronnie2point0 · 8 months
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cold sweats and sweet dreams, robert | im sorry im sorry please im sorry been on my smallmarch grind eat up you munches | @we-are-the-backrooms eat up teehee
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pandorxxx · 9 months
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Number 1 rule…
Lo’ak(20) x Omatikayan fem reader (22)
Warnings: cursing, p in v, soft-dom lo’ak, my boy has the ultimate rizz in this one, daddy kink, creampie, choking (both lo’ak and reader)
Synopsis: when lo’ak finally convinced Neteyam to take him to the “sacred place for young men&women”, Neteyam lays down a few ground rules for his younger brother. However, the most important rule went dismissed…
There was a sacred place in the forest for young men and young women. A place where women could be their most sensual selves, while the men bared witness. A place that lo’ak had been dying to go. Just to see what the hype was about. He asked Neteyam about it, but because lo’ak was 20 and not 21, he wasn’t considered a proper adult to attend this very adult party.
But lo’ak had his ways, and he was very convincing. Also, he threatened to tell his father about the little club unless Neteyam promised to take him tonight. So there he was, walking in the middle of the forest at night with his older brother.
“Let’s go over a few ground rules, ok?” Neteyam started. Lo’ak rolled his eyes, really not trying to hear the lecture today.
“I don’t care about none of that. Are we almost there?” Lo’ak spat, glancing at his brother in frustration. “Bro just listen for 5 minutes, damn!” Neteyam strained, as loud as he could get in a still forest.
“Don’t bring too much attention to yourself, please? You’re already not supposed to be there.” Neteyam began. Lo’ak rolled his eyes once more, letting out a loud chuckle.
“Whatever bro.” Lo’ak spoke. “Also, Don’t get too fucking drunk. I don’t feel like carrying your ass back to your hut.” Neteyam demanded.
“Yup.” Lo’ak spoke, not even listening to his brother. The music started to get louder the more steps they took, and lo’aks heart began to beat out of his chest. So excited for what the night brings.
“And most importantly, I cannot stress this enough.” Neteyam started, pulling lo’ak back by his arm. “Don’t. Fuck. Anyone.” Neteyam finished, poking lo’aks chest with every word. A serious look now plastered on neteyam’s face.
“I got it.” Lo’ak snickered, snapping out of neteyams grasp, sizing him up before walking towards the party. Neteyam shook his head, following after his younger brother. And as sure as he was the mighty warrior himself, he knew that one of his rules would go dismissed.
“Woah.” Lo’ak spoke in awe. There were red lights that hug from the trees, illuminating the area. Music booming through the speakers from the lab. The young men conversing with one another, while beautiful ladies walked around, handing out drinks, and making short conversation just to get a lucky warrior alone.
Neteyam came up from behind him, placing his firm hands ontop of lo’aks shoulders. “Have fun, not too much fun. I’ll check in with you later.” Neteyam spoke before walking over to his friends.
For a moment, lo’ak was stuck. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it damn sure wasn’t this. Half of these girls he’d known personally, so maybe he had a chance to get lucky tonight.
“Lo’ak?” A familiar voice called in confusion. He quickly turned around, being met with you. One of the most beautiful girls in this clan. You were dressed more scandalous than usual, he would even say you were practically naked. You two were friends, so it was kind of weird to see you in this light, however he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Couldn’t even think straight.
“Lord have mercy.” He mumbled under his breath, scanning your body generously. “What are you doing here?” You asked, stepping alittle closer. He snapped out of it, shaking his head lightly before meeting your gaze again.
“I-I umm.” He began to point to his brother, trying to remember his fucking name. But In your presence, he couldn’t seem to get it together.
“Neteyam brought you here?” You asked with an all knowing smile, your arms crossed around your breasts. “Yes. Yes, neteyam brought me here. I kinda made him though.” He finally spoke a coherent thought, a nervous grin plastered across his face.
“Well, are you having fun? Meet any girls yet?” You asked, a part of you hoping that he hadn’t, so that you could take him for yourself.
He chuckled, noticing the tinge of jealousy in your voice. “How could I look at any other girl, when you’re standing infront of me? I mean…just look at you.” He reassured, eyeing you up and down. You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to hide your smile as much as possible. Meeting his gaze again, you could see that he wanted you…badly. So you decided to play the game, hopefully you’d get lucky tonight.
“Hmm, Thanks babe. You want a drink?” You asked, walking past him, your tail expertly grazing his stomach as you swayed your hips.
“Yeah.” Was all he could say, following behind you like a lost puppy. Neteyam caught a glimpse of the situation and shook his head.
“What kind of drink, baby boy?” You asked, making your way over to the table, you backed into it, lifting yourself up slowly to take a seat.
“I don’t know, surprise me.” He chuckled, looking at all of the options. You being one of his top picks to taste tonight.
“Well, what do you have the taste for?” You asked sensually, crossing one leg over the other slowly.
“I think you already know.” He grinned, his hand finding refuge on your thigh. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m not on the menu.” You smiled, uncrossing your legs.
“Well you’re on the table like you are. And none of these other options are catching my eye. I want you.” He whispered in your ear, a wave of confidence washing over him. Your body became hot to the touch. Who knew the youngest sully boy had such a slick tongue?
“Mhm, what do you want from me?” You asked, spreading your legs alittle wider, letting him rub the inside of your thigh, just above your core.
“5 minutes of your time, miss. That’s all.” He reassured, kissing down your neck. You bit your lip, throwing your head towards the sky as you let out a low moan. Although this was the place for this kind of activity, you were never one to give a show.
“Ok, daddy. Somewhere private though. Let’s go.” You pushed him back, hopping off of the table and grabbing his hand, pulling him through the crowd of people quickly.
Neteyam did a double take, it hadn’t even been 10 minutes and his baby brother was already breaking the number one rule. “LO’AK!” Neteyam shouted, trying to get his attention. And that he did, but all lo’ak did was throw up his middle finger at his older brother from across the forest. How dare he try to ruin this moment for him.
You two had walked for a few minutes before making it to your hut. Pushing him in and closing the door behind you. Giving him no time to even speak, you jumped into his arms, kissing his lips hungrily.
He walked you over to the table, setting you down gently. His strong hands running up your thighs while yours explored his back. You pulled away for a second, both of you breathing heavily.
“And here I thought we were just friends.” You teased. “We are friends. But for tonight, you’re mine.” He spoke in his low tone, running his hands up to the knot of your loincloth, untying it gently. You shifted your hips up, so that he could pull it down slowly, letting it hit the ground. All while maintaining dangerous eye contact with eachother.
You began to untie his loincloth, letting the fabric hit the ground to be met with a surprise. He was the biggest you’d ever seen. At least 75% of your forearm. His cock jumping with every heartbeat, the veins throbbing in anticipation. Precum leaking to the table beneath you.
“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath, legs opening alittle wider to invite him in, your slick flowing out of you like a river.
“May I?” He asked for permission to move forward with you. Such a gentleman, he was. He was so ready, and so were you. “You can do whatever you want to me, daddy. I’m all yours tonight.” You spoke sensually, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a fiery kiss.
Both of you moaning into the kiss as he began to prob at your entrance. Slowly sliding into you, making sure to be as gentle as possible. You pulled away from the kiss, looking down at the source of pleasure. Watching as his cock disappeared inside of you.
Once he bottomed out with one firm thrust, you let out a loud moan, going completely limp in his arms. He held your back to support you while your head fell back in his embrace.
He used this opportunity to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys and love bites while he fucked you slow and deep. His thick cock hitting all the right spots.
He grabbed your thigh, wrapping it around his waist so that he could get better access, fucking into that sensitive sweetspot of yours. Your moans motivating him further as he sped up slightly.
“Soooo good! Ohh my God, Lo’ak!” You whined, shifting your hands to his back, trying your best to refrain from scratching him up. But, he was making it so hard for you. Rolling his hips into yours, making your eyes roll back. All while he continued his attack on your now bruised neck.
In an instant, he sped up. Rocking your entire world. So much so that you couldn’t even speak, silent screams escaping your agape mouth.
“Gonna cum soon?” He teased, pulling back just to see your fucked out expression, and God was it satisfying. Knowing that he was giving you the best dick of your life boosted his ego in ways you wouldn’t even understand.
“Yess Lo’ak!” You screamed, your legs beginning to shake around his waist. He admired you for a moment, still drilling deep into your tight little cunt. He could feel you clenching around him, and he let out a low groan. His jaw clenching in restraint.
“I’m cumminggg!” You screamed to the top of your lungs, eyes rolling back as you let loose on him. Every stroke revealing his cock coated in all of your juices.
“Shiittt, girl.” He moaned, looking down at the source, watching you flood the table beneath you. Letting you ride out your high, he slowed down, sending you deep strokes.
“S-oooo deep, lo’aaaak.” You moaned, pushing on his stomach. He stopped all movement for you, pecking your lips.
“How do you feel, baby?” He asked, pulling out of you, a water fall following. You were completely fucked out, legs still trembling from your intense orgasm, but you were far from finished with him.
You pulled him close to you by his neck, engaging in yet another passionate kiss. He managed to sit next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Now your neck was in his hand, as he kissed you sloppily.
You pushed him back, placing your hands on his chest while you slid down onto his cock. You both letting out a series of moans as you began to bounce on him.
“Fuuuck, you f-feel soooo damn good baby.” He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you rolled your hips into his. His cock hitting your sweetspot with each bounce.
He went to pull your top off, your gorgeous breasts bursting out of the material in no time.
“Ohh great mother-“ he mumbled watching your breast jump with every bounce of your hips.
He pulled you down to him, just so that he could attack them. Swirling his tongue around your nipple, and sucking on them like a pacifier.
He tried to fuck into you, but the way that his legs dangled off of the table just wouldn’t allow him that satisfaction. So he grabbed your hips, rocking you back and forth on him, and that wasn’t really working for him either.
And you were no help, being a fucked out mess ontop of him. “Fuuuck, I-I can’t-“ he growled, flipping you both over. The aggression boiling in his chest as he spread your legs wide, thrusting into you forcefully.
“Ohhhhh shiiiiiiit!” You screamed, voice rippling with his harsh thrusts. You threw your head back in complete bliss, sweat glistening on your trembling body as he jammed into that sweet spot repeatedly.
His hand trailed up to your neck, bringing you closer to him while he drilled into you. “Tell me how good it is.” He spoke sensually, lips inches away from yours.
It was selfish of him to ask you to speak in this moment, all things considering. “Sooo so good, daddy. So goooood!” You mumbled deliriously, eyes rolling to the back of your head again. Legs shaking around his torso.
“Mmm, best you’ve ever had, right?!” He growled, shaking your neck with every word. “Ohhh yes! YES!” You screamed, your stomach beginning to tighten just like last time.
“I-I’m c-ummingggg again!” You cried, your body shaking violently as you let yourself go, flooding the table beneath you once more. Fluttering around his cock, sending him the utmost amount of pleasure.
“Me too, me too! Fuuuck. This pussy’s so good, soooo fucking good.” He moaned, placing his forehead on yours lazily, a few short whimpers leaving his lips. As much as he tried to hold his sounds in, he couldn’t anymore.
“Ohh baby, i-I’m close!” He cried, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. His sounds were music to your ears. To know that you could make such a strong man whine like a baby, made you even more hot. You could feel another orgasm building up, this one being more intense than the others.
“You’re gonna make me cum again!” You screamed, another orgasm rushing through your veins, muting you entirely. Your mouth fell agape, watching his sensual facial expressions.
“Fuuuck, I’m cumming! Im cumming!” He whined, eyes rolling to the back of his head as ropes of cum spilled out into your womb. The feeling was so euphoric, that your eyes crossed, breath caught in your throat. His grip becoming tighter and tighter on your neck as you both released.
“Mmm, just like that! Juuuuust like that.” You moaned, finally catching your breath as his thrusts became sloppy. His head finding refuge on your shoulder in exhaustion. You rubbed his back, telling him how good he did in his ear.
To say he was in love was an understatement. Breaking the number one rule definitely wasn’t the plan, but Eywa was he in a world of trouble now…
Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee @sweethoneycn
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secondhand-snow · 3 months
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a body of impulses
chapter 2: feeling like unraveling
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lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)
★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★
wc: 9.0k+
warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n
summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.
author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!
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You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door. 
It never comes.
He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?
He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.
 That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.
So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.
“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”
 Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”
“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.
“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.
“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”
“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.
“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”
“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off. 
“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.
“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.
“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.
“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”
You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”
Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.
Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy. 
Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.
10 hours without talking to you?
I think you can manage it.
I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.
It’s a risk. 
Will there be a reward?
…I’ll text you when we land.
He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile. 
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It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly. 
You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.
“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.
 “What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”
“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.
“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.
“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”
“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”
“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.
“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said. 
Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”
“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts. 
“Maybe!”
“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input. 
“I am inside, Leave it.” 
You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.
You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.
“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”
“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.
“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.
“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!” 
“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”
“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.
“Oh come on, that was nothing.”
“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”
“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”
“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”
“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.
“You know I do.”
“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”
“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.
“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”
“... Don’t do this to me now.”
“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.
“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”
“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding. 
“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”
He chuckles.“I will.”
When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.
Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.
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Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.
She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage. 
Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.
Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.
 Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect. 
When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment. 
The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking. 
“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”
“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.
“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.
“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. 
“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.
“Yeah...”
“No?”
“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.” 
“Oh, yeah?”
“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”
You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.
“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.
“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”
“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”
“That’s smart.”
“I know, I am smart.”
“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”
“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”
“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.
“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.
“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.
Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”
“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water. 
“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”
“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be. 
“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.
“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat. 
“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?” 
“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks. 
You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.
“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold. 
“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks. 
The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.
It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it. 
He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it. 
“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.
“Very me?”
“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”
“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.
“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”
“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?”  His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.
“It’s better than a camping mat.”
“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”
Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.
“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.
“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”
You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs. 
“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.
You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock. 
“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves. 
“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”
He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.  
It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough. 
“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.
“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”
You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him. 
“Tell me what you want.”
“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.
“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.
“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”
 Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.
He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it. 
“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”
Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing. 
“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”
That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure. 
His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly. 
Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.
He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”
“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.
“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets. 
“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.
“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.
“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”
“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.
“We aren’t together?”
“You haven’t asked me!”
“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you. 
You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”
He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”
You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”
Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.
Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.
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Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.
But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty. 
Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.
You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.
It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting. 
You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers. 
Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.
“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.
“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”
“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”
“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance. 
“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.” 
Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.
They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.
But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.
 When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“...”
“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.
“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.” 
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“I feel like a traitor.”
“Why?”
“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety. 
“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.
“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”
“Well then, why do you agree?”
“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”
“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.
“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”
“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.
“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.” 
“It sounds like you already know what you think.”
“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.
“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.
“That’s not true-”
“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.” 
“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”
There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.
“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”
“Yeah, yeah I am.”
“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.
“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”
“No, you did not.”
“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”
“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you. 
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll talk to you later today.”
“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence. 
“I’ll try.”
It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter. 
Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.
“What’s going on? When did you get here?”
“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”
“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading. 
“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.
“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”
Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.
“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”
A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.
“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.
“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”
“Dad, why?” 
“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.” 
The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family. 
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You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known. 
When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.
 When you touch the Earth, everything sings.
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© secondhand-snow 2024
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moonsaver · 2 months
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hello! i'm here to drop some thoughts that have plagued my mind for quite a while now, idk if you can answer it or not but if you can't then it's fine. however if you can, i would be delighted (your writings are so good, ty for keeping my delulu brain well fed ❤️)
ok, have you considered abt yan!Sunday x yan!reader? bonus point if yan!reader is like some kind of servant or personal assistant etc. think about this, yan!reader, so eager to do anything to please Sunday, they are willing to do anything and *everything*, even ready to shed some blood or partake in some of the...more dirty works, as long as the rewards are praises being cooed out by Sunday or Sunday's hand patting their head. yan!reader, although knowing they are nothing but a mere puppet that Sunday could play with, relinquish themselves as they voluntarily become a nice little plaything, to be completely at Sunday mercy.
on Sunday side, he would definitely enjoy seeing yan!reader being so submissive and obedient, like a trusty and loyal guard dog. he could mold them however he liked and they would be so fast to obey without second thoughts, he could assign them a mission and they would finish it as soon as possible. submissive, compliant, obedient, these traits are what Sunday seeking for an assistant, it gave him a sense of power and dominance.
in public, everybody only sees Mister Sunday and his assistant. in the privacy of Sunday's office, yan!reader kneeled in front of Sunday, their face rubbed in between Sunday's lap as they begged for compliments for yet, another successful mission. Sunday only chuckled as he cooing out praises, his hand stroked their hair as if they are nothing more than a lap dog. that's okay though, judging on how yan!reader was so willing to do anything for their beloved, they would call themselves 'a lap dog', too.
Sunday's part was kind of short since i didn't have a grasp of his personality yet but i hope that this brainrot would plague your mind as much as it was plaguing mine. i'll come back with more brainrot, i assure you! until next time, ta-ta.
Hello anon! Please do drop by any thoughts you have. I like reading these. I like having a little peek into your brains' click clacks
As for Yan!sunday x yan!reader, I've had maybe.. 2 or so requests? It's not the first time I've come across the idea, no worries.
As for the idea itself.. to be honest, it just never stuck with me. In my brutal honesty I can't quite imagine it as anything else but like.. a really unhealthy but devoted relationship. Yanderes are all about the horror of desperation for me, and a lot of other factors. But i think I can see the vision with the desperate yan!reader.
---
Yan!sunday i imagine is actually quite fervently in love. But this spin on his character is well within bounds. Someone who ends up actually using another obsessive character, aka yan!reader as their errand-runner, and have them do all the dirty work he would usually have to get his hands stained for. I imagine at first he's disturbed, but finds some consensus with yan!reader, and "entertains" their whims. He gives them some affection, and has them running out like a headless chicken doing the work assigned.
At some point, both of you are stained endlessly with sins, and blood does not wash from your skin. Both of you are bound to each other by secrets too messy and scandalous to ever burden someone else with. Both of you are akin to a cursed keeper, lips locked with secrets, and somewhere along the lines, Yan!sunday finds himself spouting devoted nonsense into yours. Both of you may as well fall into this neverending spiral of sins, and damn those who dared to stain his Family, and the world he works so hard to protect.
If anything, the loneliness of the sins seeping into his bones is relinquished by you. You and your weak smile and your obsessive eyes, your chapped lips and cracked nails with dry blood in the valley of your nailbed.
In the end, yan!sunday ends up loving you, or at least, obsessing over you, because now you're the only person who understands. Who knows. And you've seen the ugliest crooks of his halo and the dead secrets Penacony hides, and you love him anyway. It's a neverending dance for sinners who may never see the light of redemption soon. The feast is over and the curtain's call comes, and his wings are stained with your blood, and your lips are stained with his sin. Who, in the end, pays the price?
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valiantroeagleangel · 4 months
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Will's alphabet.
Will Ramos x female reader.
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Never saw anyone make an alphabet for Will, which is -once again- SCANDALOUS. So here, have my headcanons. It's what is running in my head so please don't come for me.
Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @malice-ov-mercy @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @witchyweeb34 @lyschko666 @emzandthevoid @cookiesupplier
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The dude is CLINGY. I'm sorry but all I see is clingy Will, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms. You can be both full of sweat, covered in cum, the dude doesn't care, he wants to feel you close. You just want to pee? Why? You don't need to pee. You need to rest in bed with him. Don't care if it's dirty, if you need to clean up or whatever, he is dead and won't sleep if you're not by his side.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Have you seen this dude's V-line and abs? I'm sorry but he gotta be proud of it. And maybe it's just me but I see him more like an ass/ thighs kind of guy. Will definitely slap your ass or grab your thighs. Gladly let you strangle him between them. His head is stuffed in your pussy while he eats the shit out of you, his arms surrounding your thighs as he keeps your legs closed on his head.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Cums in your mouth if you suck him off. That's it.
Will die for you to let him cum between your lips and want you to stick out your tongue to show it to him on your tongue before you swallow. He'll go feral for this.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sniff one of your panties while he masturbates. The dude is so whipped on you that he has to do this, your scent is intoxicating.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
I think he knows what he is doing because he listens. He wants to please you. Again I see him as a very puppy boy, very needy and worshipping. He wants you to feel good, he wants to see you come so I think he definitely finds a way to do it. Whether he is experienced or not. Even virgin Will works to make his lady come.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style because: your ASS. It gives him a good grip and a divine view as you arch yourself, your butt pushed and high for him.
Or like a missionary but kind of wild style. Will thrust into you like a beast, his lips on yours while he groans into the kiss.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
This dude definitely cracks jokes during the deed. He can be very serious and passionate but a funny sound and it's all gone. He'll laugh about it and try to reproduce it with his mouth. Though, he will never make fun of you or say something that could be hurtful just to make a joke.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
I think he is a bit groomed, not that much but he trims it. He loves getting blowjobs so he gotta motivate you, you know. If it's all bushy down there you might not be very eager to go down so he wants to be sure that it's cut short enough.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
I think he is a pretty intimate person. Once again the missionary can be very passionate. He wants to make you feel loved and for you to feel how much he cares about you. I'm not sure he'll set the bed with red petals, flowers and candles but he won't stop kissing you everywhere he can. He will remind you how pretty you are and how lucky he is to have you for him. This kind of stuff.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Already said that but jerk off in your panties. I think he kinda does it a lot. First, because of tour, sexual relations can be hard while he is away but also because he likes his alone time and his mind can run wild as fuck. That doesn't mean you guys don't have sex. But just- he is at home and for god knows what reason he gets all horny but you're at work and he starts missing you, wishing you were here. Then his mind gets so worked up that he ends up masturbating, his mind racing with images of you while you do everything he wants you to do. It's his mind, he can be free and live on his own sexual tendencies. No one is here to care about how unhinged it is.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Secretly wants you to tell him that he is a good boy and that he is doing such a good job for you. Called you "mommy" once as a joke but it actually got him hard.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Your bed, because it allows him to unleash his passionate side but honestly he is ready to ride everywhere. As long as both of you are getting off it's good enough for him.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The mommy kind of thing. If you moan, praise him, tell him how good he is or how good you feel because of him the dude is ready to keep going or go for another round.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I don't see him being heavy on the daddy rough kind of domination you know.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
BLOWJOBS. FACE FUCKING PEOPLE. Obsessed with everything related to your mouth and his dick.
And for the skills, have you heard him? Trust me his tongue is STRONG. He knows how to flick it without getting tired. He'll bring you to the heavens, his fingers knuckled deep inside of you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
I think he can be really rough on the face fucking, he'll hold your face still while he fucks your lips like a fucking animal. But for the sex, I see him more like a sensual kind of fucking, slow and nice, faster when you start to cry his name but will pounder you in rhythm with very calculated moves.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
The pasta is cooking? Too late Will already got you bent over the kitchen table, slapping your ass. He loves his passionate and sensual rounds but I think that, if you're in the kitchen and he just gets horny, he will quickly get you off without you asking anything, just because he thinks you deserve to come for any reason.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I think he won't experiment with too much public sex. He is not afraid to show the world how much he cares about you but he won't fuck you in public places, he doesn't want everybody to know what the two of you are doing, even if one time he fucked you in that fitting room because he couldn't wait.
That aside I think he is kinda willing to try if you want to try, as long as he doesn't have to hurt you severely or as long as it's not all DDLG stuff.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
If it's been some time because he was away for tour or for something else he doesn't last, he tries to hold but it's so fucking wet and hot inside of you and he missed it so much that he just shoots his load without being able to refrain from it. But you're good for another round, maybe two.
Otherwise, in more normal circumstances he can hold it, he wants to see you come, it's all he is pursuing so he is going to last as long as you need (if he doesn't get too excited).
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I already wrote about it so I'll gladly do it again, Will likes toys. He is definitely not against it. He'll buy you a dildo. No problems. He'll watch you use it while he Facetimes you on tour. They are his friends. You want to edge him with a cock ring, I mean who is he to deny you what you want? You'll praise him for holding on and he'll be down on his knees for that.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Such a big tease. Edges you because he knows how hard you come and how you see stars afterwards. And in public, even if he is not heavy on the public sex kind of thing, he'll still draw circles on your thighs while you're hanging out with others, noticing how your skin is getting chilly and how hot it grows when he draws his fingers closer to your inner thigh. Can spend the night by slightly touching you to get you all worked up, just to tease you and get you in the mood so he can fuck you immediately when the two of you go home.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Grunts, groans, make a bunch of animal noises. He doesn't care. He doesn't want to hold how good he is feeling. He wants you to know how divine it is.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He is horny while he is high. He'll smoke to relax but then you're passing in front of him, sitting next to him on the couch and POOF you're good for it.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
THICK. I don't think it's THAT long but it's massive.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He is not a teenager anymore but he still got it in him you know. He can get flustered really easily, especially for you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Will not sleep if you don't cuddle him but when you're by his side, dead ass sloth. Snoring like an old man. I'm sorry.
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 year
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Power Versus Fate
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>Yan! Pantalone x Fem! Reader
Word count: 0.8k words
༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶ * ༶
“Do you have any idea of how much power I’m offering you?”
You sigh for the umpteenth time, dusting off any flour or icing sugar from your apron. “My answer in Inazuma is the same as it was in Snezhnaya.”
“I take it that you do not have an idea?”
“You should take it that I am not interested.”
He clicks his tongue, giving you a disapproving look. This is the fourth time this week that Pantalone has come to your new workplace to ‘persuade’ you. All his presence does is annoy you and bring about a feeling of hopelessness. After all, he is the reason why you fled Snezhnaya in the first place.
The lights in the bakery backroom give his face an eerie glow as he stares at you. His eyes, dark and gloomy, harbour an unidentifiable emotion swirling around like a storm. One minute passes, then two, and his lips part to speak.
“How about I remove your dear fiance from the picture?”
You perk up, eyes widening in horror when you realise the meaning behind his words. “You wouldn’t… no, please not him! He’s innocent.”
Despite him being seated and you standing, it still feels like Pantalone is pushing you to the ground with the pressure.
“My dear, you worked for me due to a contract that spared your little town. Though your homeland Natlan was not kind to you, it does not want you back. Do you perhaps assume that marrying an Inazuman man would allow you to settle here? Or have you forgotten what mercy Snezhnaya had shown you?”
“Sir Regrator, I assure you that I am very well aware of my position as well as of the fact that I am no longer allowed in Natlan. What I do not understand is why you have followed me all the way to Inazuma, even going as far as to harass me while I work just to offer me a higher position after my contract is done and dusted.”
Pantalone slightly tilts his head, mentally commending your audacity. However, he’s quick to stand and trap you between his body and the nearby wall as he watches that spark of malice he so loved shine in your eyes.
One gloved hand grabs your wrist and lifts it up to view the pathetic excuse of a ring on your finger. Before you know it, he’s slid it off and thrown it somewhere across the room to lay forgotten somewhere under the sacks of flour. He now eyes the ringless hand, already figuring out which gemstone would suit it better.
“I will clarify one thing for you, [Name].”
His voice, smooth and deep, echoes in your mind as you glare at him.
“I was never offering anything,” he states. “Although I used that word, I have no intention of following it. Your return to Snezhnaya is final. In case you are thinking of running away, I hope you remember what happened when you refused to go with me the first time I met you.”
The memory of getting handcuffed and pushed inside his office on the boat resurfaces. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“I will have the details of our departure sent to you.” He continues, “Ah, and leave the details about your lovely betrothed to me. You needn’t see him or this humble bakery again.”
Shaking his grip off your hand, you push him away with the most malevolent face you could make. “You may dream as much as you wish. I am staying in Inazuma.”
“Are you sure about that? What power do you have to be able to declare such a thing?”
You remain quiet. You’re well aware there’s nothing at your disposal that could help you in this situation. Not even the authorities have any power to help you.
“Cat got your tongue, dear?”
Helpless, your back slides on the wall behind you as you fall to the ground. It feels so unbearably humiliating and unfair to receive this kind of treatment from him again. Before your contract of two years ended, you had worked as his personal secretary. Receiving all those borderline scandalous and filthy gifts from him on a regular basis and then having to deal with his questions about when you’re going to wear ‘that one piece’, you were fully prepared to leave Snezhnaya and never come back.
But fate has its own way of mocking you doesn’t it?
You’re sure the heavens are laughing when he steps closer to you on your knees. The action doesn’t elicit a response from you, not even when he chuckles in that infuriatingly beautiful voice of his.
“Good. You’ll have to get on your knees for me again some other time. Understood?”
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the-curator1 · 11 months
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Oceans of Time
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Vampire!Cardinal Copia x Female Reader
Author's note: This story was inspired by the amazing fic At The Mercy of Time(And Fragmented Memories of you) by @piaart. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend doing so! Additionally, this is the first fic that I am publishing on my blog, so it may have some flaws. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out to me.
AO3 Link
Summary: Copia and you love each other deeply, unconditionally. But cruel Fate decides to pull you apart from his grasp again and again. The story of two star-crossed lovers always reaching out to each other through the endless ocean of time.  (≈6300 words)
Tags:  Angst, so much angst, I put our poor Cardinal through hell, but I swear there is a happy ending (kind of), catholicism, Copia is originally a Catholic Cardinal, death, grief, loss of faith, implied smut, some depiction of graphic violence, vampirism, blood-drinking, some bits of unhinged and feral Copia, revenge, romance, some fluff, mostly Copia's POV, Shamelessly inspired by 1992 Dracula (the title ofc, a dialogue and a few elements in the story)
Vatican City, Italy, August 1677
“You cannot do such a thing.” 
The Camerlengo looked up at the Cardinal with a stern expression. His bushy eyebrows were so furrowed that they almost hid his dark eyes. The corners of his thin lips were turned up in a sneer of disgust and anger. The man had the appearance of a hawk, with his long, pointed nose and vicious, sharp gaze.
“Well, of course, I can, Cardinal. Not only can I do it, but I must." growled the Camerlengo.
Copia felt a shiver run down his spine and looked down again at his hands clasped in his lap. Shame. Anger. Fear. Worry. All these insidious feelings swirled in his mind as in a demonic waltz. But at that moment, all his thoughts were focused on you...
Oh dolcezza… Forgive me.
“You have broken your vows, Cardinal, " continued the camerlengo in a chilling tone, "Consider yourself lucky that I am not asking His Holiness to dismiss you immediately. Despite your lamentable mistake, you are still a good asset to our Church. Besides, the family of your... lover has urged us not to cause a scandal. Let's hope that this mission will help you think straight again. May God guide you back to the right path.”
Copia shot his head back towards his superior. His throat was knotted, and his heart seemed to hiccup in his chest as if it was shaking with sobs. 
No. No...
They couldn't...
They had no right to keep you apart like that! 
The Cardinal's hands tightened violently on his knees. He wished it was not his kneecaps he was squeezing between his fingers, but the neck of that old disgusting vulture. But he repressed these violent urges as well as he could. Without a word, Copia rose from his chair. Like an automaton, he bowed his head and walked towards the door.
Italy, Rome, August 1677
You looked out of your bedroom window, your hand resting against the cold glass. Mother had carefully locked the door to your balcony... she was probably afraid you would run away or jump to embrace the pavement two floors below.
Rome had never looked so foul and so fair, bathed in the glorious light of the evening. The sun cast its golden rays on the facades of the buildings bearing their bold fronts. Everything here was pompous, grandiose. Everything was too much. There was no questioning the beauty and majesty of the city... but how you hated it at that very moment. In your eyes, it was the monster of stone, marble and cobblestone that held the man you loved in its horrible clawed hands. It symbolized everything that was keeping you apart. You could have run away together… But where to go? Your family would not let you run away… never. 
Oh, if he had not been a Cardinal... 
The foolishness of your inner reflection struck you at once. If he had not been Cardinal... his beautiful green eyes would never have met yours in the first place. Your beautiful, sweet Cardinal Copia. Why did you have to be discovered? Why had Father decided to cancel his meeting and return home so soon? Why did he have to catch you and the man he had hired to be your preceptor in a passionate embrace? 
"It was bound to happen one day, amore..." whispered your Cardinal when he had come to visit you after the incident under cover of darkness. You had been able to escape the confinement of your room with the complicity of one of your maids. 
"And now, Copia? What are we going to do now?" you had asked, your eyes brimming with tears. Your forehead rested gently against that of your lover. His gloved hands rested on your face, his thumbs drawing delicate circles on your skin. 
"I don't know, my love. I don't know. But I want you to know one thing: Nothing can keep me away from you. Not even the Almighty, not even Satan below... I will always come back to you."
You had not been able to find the words... they were stuck in your throat. You had kissed your lover fervently, pouring all the love you felt for him into that kiss. The streets were quiet around you, there was only the distant shouting of drunkards mingled with the ringing of the church bells. But you could almost hear the wild beating of your broken heart.
Always. Always.
Your time had almost run out. You had untied your favourite silk scarf off your neck and slipped it into his hands. You had carefully infused the scarf with your perfume. Copia had studied your gift with his wide bright eyes. There was a consuming devotion in his eyes as if he were holding Christ's shroud in his hands. 
Your Cardinal had kissed your forehead one last time. In the darkness of the street where your secret meeting took place, you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes. He had not said anything after that.  Maybe the words were stuck in his throat too. Maybe he was afraid he could not say goodbye anymore if he had said something more.
Copia had taken a few steps back… and almost as quickly as he had arrived, Copia turned on his heels and let himself be swallowed up by the darkness of the streets. 
When you heard the stairs creak at the end of the corridor, you snapped out of your thoughts... It was them. You saw them arrive in the courtyard of your house in their austere carriage. You were not surprised. You were fully aware that, regardless of being the daughter of a powerful family, there remained only one destination to seek solace following such disgrace.
September 1677, somewhere off the coast of Italy...
Copia watched the coast disappear in the distance. The sea was calm this morning. But the gentle sound of the waves did not soothe him at all. Copia was well aware of what they must have done to you... and if he had not been so devastated he would have laughed at the irony of the situation. You, who had committed a sacrilege with a member of the clergy, were now compelled to join their ranks for the rest of your life.
He hated every moment he spent away from you and your arms. He hated every breath he took without feeling your skin against his. He hated the people who took him away from you.
Oh, how he missed you... 
How he missed your touch, how he missed burying his face into your hair, how he missed the sound of your voice. He felt like a part of him was missing, he felt like they tore a whole limb from him, he felt like they pulled his heart off his chest. 
Copia hated the boat that carried him away from the Italian coast. Away from you. 
Copia hated the red cassock he wore, it looked like it weighed thousands of pounds. The cross he wore around his neck felt like the chains of a slave
Copia hated the Church. 
Copia hated the God that separated him from the love of his life.
But in this whirlwind of hatred and resentment, Copia did not forget the promise he had made. He held the scarf up to his face to breathe in your perfect scent; it was his greatest treasure. Then he held it to his heart...
I'll be back, amore...
Italy, from Genoa to Rome, 16 February 1681 
His heart was pounding in his ribcage. It was beating faster and faster as the city of Genoa loomed on the horizon. All those years away from you had been torture. Those years spent in that alien land had been particularly trying for Copia. He had never been able to get used to India and to his mission there. How could he have preached the word of God when he no longer believed in it?
The Camerlengo had been wrong about everything. This mission had not put him back on the right track. On the contrary, all that time spent away from you had only increased his longing for you, his burning desire to be close to you.
All the thoughts that should have been for the Lord were for you. And, God, some of them were anything but righteous. He had not forgotten you, of course. The Cardinal had thought of you every minute of every day. How could he have forgotten your smile? The softness of your hair? The opal of your eyes? The melody of your voice? 
He had held your precious scarf to his face every night, breathing in your scent. Sometimes, as his mind lingered on you, he had let his hands roam over his own body. And he had felt no shame for it. Eventually, the scent of you on the scarf began to fade. It broke his heart when he noticed it. But the token was still something that had belonged to you. It had been wrapped around your neck. It had touched the skin of this part of your cherished body, a place where he liked to kiss you... and in the Cardinal’s love-struck mind, it was more than enough.
The Cardinal now had only one thing to look forward to: seeing you again, holding you in his arms and never letting go again.
It hadn't been very difficult to find out which convent your dear parents had sent you to. They were zealous and wealthy Catholics who were graciously giving money to the abbeys and convents of Rome. Especially that one.
He hoped that his authority as Cardinal would give him the right to see you, for even five minutes. His heart had not calmed down since he had got off the boat in Genoa. 
Upon returning to Rome, his heart continued to beat furiously in his chest. He did not care to go to Vatican City to announce his return first. The urge to see you was too strong. Standing before the convent gates where you had spent the past four years did little to alleviate his condition. It felt as though his heart longed to escape its confines.
As he had hoped, his red cassock had a great effect on the Mother Superior. She didn't seem suspicious when Copia told her his name. She seemed too focused on this habit to remember that it was the name of the Cardinal at the heart of a scandal within the Church a few years earlier. Even if the scandal did not blow in the eyes of the world, surely she would know about it. There were whispers, even amongst the clergy. But when he mentioned your name and asked to see you, the old woman's eyes darkened
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The Cardinal's eyes were still dry when he placed his gloved hand on the tombstone engraved with your name. But he felt as if his whole being was shaking. He felt as if everything he was had been torn to shreds. 
He had not been there. 
He knelt down on the grass. The cold winter wind was biting at his skin but he did not care. He removed his gloves. His fingers delicately traced the outline of your name in the stone, but they tensed when they reached the dates engraved underneath. Your life was so short... You were too young. Far too young. And good. Far too good. Your family did not even retrieve your body. You were buried in the graveyard of the convent. 
He had not been there. 
Copia felt an awful pain searing behind his eyes as scorching tears attempted to break through his tightly closed eyelids. It seemed like the rapid beating of his heart, once intense on the boat's deck, had ceased entirely the instant the Mother Superior uttered the words.
Illness. Death.
He could not remember exactly what the old woman had said after "She is gone, Cardinal." He just remembered the feeling of a hot knife through his heart, followed by a dreadful sense of hollowness.
He pulled your scarf out of his pocket and brought it to his face. He knew that he never would be able to breathe in your scent anymore… and it killed him inside.
He had not been there. Copia leaned his forehead on the cold stone as he used to do with you. The realization that you were gone was slowly settling in. It was clawing at what remained of his heart, it was tearing his wretched soul apart.
You were gone and he had not been there for you. 
Did you think about him when you realized what was happening to you? 
When you had become too weak to do anything but lay in bed, did you hope for him to come back before it was too late? He promised after all…
Did you call out for him when the cold hands of Death seized you? 
Still leaning on your tombstone, the Cardinal began to weep. The howling of the wind blended with the sound of his sobs. After a while, Copia stopped crying. He felt like he had no tears left to cry. His sadness had faded. Now he felt a burning anger. A hot anger blazing like the fiery pit of hell. It was their fault.
Those who sent him away. Those who sent you in this wretched place. It was His fault! 
The God who had torn you away from his embrace. The God who was doing nothing but taking.
With an almost animalist cry, Copia tore the cross pendant from his neck and threw it away with force. At once, the wind gave a sharp howl, blowing its cold breath in Copia’s face. 
“Damn you” the Cardinal snarled, looking up at the sky. “I will avenge her. And not even you will be able to stop me. You will see. You will see”
With that he turned away, not sparing a glance at your tombstone.
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The night had thrown its dark cloak upon Rome and the convent. Copia had left earlier without a word, storming out of the convent like a gust of wind. But his madness and desperation led him back there. He had removed his cassock to climb the closed gates of the convent but he had carefully put your scarf into the pocket of his trousers. He had almost impaled himself on the pickets of the fence. But that did not stop him.
The Cardinal was now standing in front of the small chapel, his chest was bare, exposed to the vicious assault of the chilling wind that was howling louder than ever. His chestnut hair was dishevelled. He looked like a madman. Maybe he was a madman. He tried to open the door of the chapel but it was locked. With a growl of rage and frustration, Copia slammed his fists against the wooden door.
Damn it.
The garden that surrounded the chapel and the abbay was plunged into darkness. But the full moon was casting a pale glow, it was enough for Copia to see around. He squinted his eyes. In the dim light cast by the moon above, he saw an axe stuck in a log of wood. The winter was cold, the nuns surely needed some wood to light their fireplace. Copia blessed the cold of winter and the nun who carelessly left this axe here. The Cardinal pulled out the axe of the log and then walked back to the chapel. Without a second thought, he lifted the sharp object in the air and struck the old wooden door with force. He struck again. 
Again. 
Again. 
He was breathing heavily. His mind was blank. It was his purpose. It was his design.
He did not care if the sound of the blade hitting the door might awaken the whole convent. Eventually, the door gave in under the Cardinal’s assault. Copia pushed the door roughly and entered the quiet chapel. He walked to the altar, still holding the sharp axe in his hand.
"What are you going to do now?!" Copia shouted in the silence of the chapel. "I told you that I would avenge her! You took her away from me. What do you have to say for yourself?"
His shaky voice echoed in the empty chapel, but there was no answer, no sign. The silence was deafening.
"Well, of course," Copia huffed.
His eyes were wide, his pupils fully blown, as an insane grin curled his lips. Hysterical laughter escaped his mouth.
"You know what, Lord?" he hissed. "I renounce you. You took away my chance to be with her... I know someone who will give me the power to avenge her."
With that, he plunged the axe into the large cross that hovered over the altar. The force of his own strength surprised him as the axe sank into the stone. Suddenly, a crack appeared, and the stone split open. A tiny carmine stream escaped the crack, swiftly rushing down the cross, growing larger and larger by seconds until it transformed into a monstrous red cascade.
The Cardinal instinctively took a step back, yet curiously, he felt no fear. His insane grin spread wider across his face as a strong metallic scent filled his nostrils. Darkness enveloped him like a cloak, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Finally, someone answered his call.
When he opened his eyes again, he witnessed the stream of blood pouring onto the marble floor of the chapel, a sight that ignited an intense sense of thirst as if he had not drunk in ages. He licked his lips. In that instant, the carmine liquid appeared to him like the finest wine. Without hesitation, Copia lunged forward, consumed by greed, and drank voraciously.
Rome, May 1677
You erupted into laughter as your lover pressed himself against you, peppering your neck with a multitude of feather-light kisses. His moustache playfully tickled your skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine. He gently pushed you on the bed.
"Copia!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your laughter, as you wriggled beneath him. "Stop, you are tickling me!"
The Cardinal hummed on your skin, pressing you further on the bed as a low laughter rumbled in his chest. “What if that is my purpose, amore?” he purred in your ear as he planted more kisses on your neck. His teeth were gently nibbling at your delicate skin. His voice was husky and filled with desire.  “I love to make you squirm”
Your laughter dissolved into soft moans as Copia tugged the hum of your low cut to press open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. He was not playing innocently anymore, his playful innocence had subsided with a burning desire for you. His warm lips seemed to leave your skin burning and aching for more. The Cardinal pressed his body up against yours, making you gasp. 
“Oh amore, you smell so good, your skin is so soft… you feel so good” he whispered as he kissed your neck and your collaborate with increasing fervor You blushed profusely, running your hands across his back. If this was so wrong, why did he feel so right? "Copia," you murmured, worry piercing in your voice, "My maid is in the next room... what if she hears us?"
Undeterred by your concerns, the Cardinal continued his delightful ministrations, his touch growing bolder as he gently lifted your dress, causing your blush to deepen.
"She will not hear us, amore... she never hears us," he murmured against your skin, his voice was carrying a playful smile. "She thinks I am a righteous Cardinal who teaches you about Roman theatre. How boring…"
You chuckled softly, throwing your head back into the pillow to let your lover devour your skin. But the worry did not leave your mind 
“But…” Copia's finger gently pressed against your lips, silencing your words
“Hush, Tesoro… I need you now. Let me love you… please” he pleaded, his gorgeous green eyes filled with longing.
As you looked into your lover’s beautiful eyes, you found that you could not resist him and his warm embrace. You wanted this. As much as him. 
But you both knew that the hardest thing to do now was to keep quiet amidst the intensity of your embrace. 
Vatican City, later in the night, 16 February 1681
Copia plunged his hands into the fountain, meticulously cleaning the blood from his face and skin. His hunger was appeased. A chilling calmness was surrounding him. Your father's life had been swiftly taken and Copia could still taste his bitter blood on his tongue. The man had consistently treated you poorly, he would yell at you, he would belittle you, and he did not care about your happiness. He had banished you to that wretched convent without remorse. He was one of the people responsible for your cruel separation and he deserved his fate. Copia was certain of it. The pathetic man had begged for his life, but Copia swiftly reduced him to silence when he snatched his throat with his teeth.
The Cardinal gazed at his own reflection in the tranquil water of the fountain, his eyes fixed on the image staring back at him. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat as he noticed a profound change. His once vibrant green left eye had transformed, now displaying a chilling white hue. Copia stood there in shock for a moment… then a wide smile spread across his face. 
He really did answer my call, he mused, I don’t know what I am anymore… but I know I have the power to avenge my darling. 
He mused that his new gaze would look so much better with some black paint around his eye. Once he was sure that his hands were clean from the dirty blood of your father, he retrieved the silk scarf from his pocket. He held it to his face; savouring the lingering traces of your sweet fragrance. He found that he could smell those last remnants better than before.
“Do not worry, amore,” he whispered, “I will exact vengeance upon them all, and then I shall uncover a way to reunite us once more.”
With that, he put the cherished scarf back in his pocket and headed toward the clergy’s quarters. He had a Camerlengo to rip apart
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Time passed slowly, the seasons changed, and the world kept turning and wavering faster. 
But Copia remained. 
Copia had found all the people responsible for your separation and he destroyed them all. But once he was done, what more could he do? He was now a creature of the night and he could not go back to who he was before. Copia harboured no desire to do so. He embraced his new existence and the power bestowed upon him by the Dark Lord. He stood there, a timeless observer. He would watch the people around him bloom and wither in the blink of his white eye and then fall into the pit of oblivion. 
But Copia remained. 
And he would not let you fall into oblivion. The world may have moved on, and Rome may have forgotten but Copia embarked this endless journey through the vast ocean of time, carrying the flame of his love for you. He would not let a day pass without mourning you. Each night under cover of darkness, he would visit you. He would lay flowers in your tomb. He would kneel beside your resting place, whispering words of love and devotion, hoping you would somehow hear them. 
You were gone.
But Copia remained. 
He remained in his loneliness, in his longing for you. The price to pay for being able to avenge you was high: He had to navigate without you. 
Copia remained.
Despair would gnaw at Copia's soul as he grappled with the cruel realization that the memory of your voice was slipping away from him.
Copia remained. 
But he did not forget his promise. He knew you were there. Somewhere.
He would sail until he finds you. 
Rome, a Garden in the Sun, April 1677
“Amore, you do really have a gift, you know that?” You smiled, feeling your lover's arms envelop you as he rested his chin on your shoulder. The soft fabric of your silk scarf gently caressed his skin. Your hand moved with precision, delicately tracing lines on the paper.
“Hush” you urged, your voice barely above a whisper “You will scare it away…” You gestured toward the small sparrow perched on a nearby branch, its cheerful chirping filling the air. Copia kissed the top of your head. The garden of your parent’s house embraced you both with its serene beauty. You were well hidden behind a massive oak. The gentle ray of sunshine caressed his skin. The scent of the blooming flowers filled his nostrils. The air was filled with the sound of chirping birds and the soft rustling sound of leaves in the breeze
He was supposed to teach you latin right now… but the weather was so beautiful and you wanted to draw. You had pleaded him to let you go outside. How could he say no to you? 
“My little artist, so perfect” he hummed contently as he held you in his arms. 
In an instant, the sparrow spread his wings and flew away, startled by the snap of a branch. Disappointment washed over you, and you let out a sigh as you set your pencil down on the sketchbook.
“Oh cara…” Copia leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. At that moment, he made a silent promise to himself. One day, you would both fly away like the little sparrow. He would whisk you away to a breathtaking place, a sanctuary filled with thousands and thousands of beautiful birds, where you could freely admire their splendour to your heart's content.
London, England, October 1808
Copia's existence was lonely, an enduring consequence of his immortality. He had to live alone. He did not want anyone besides, anyone but you. Copia had left Rome for a while now, reluctantly leaving your tomb behind him. He would go from city to city, from country to country, hoping that he would find a sign of you. 
But he had been searching for so long now and the former Cardinal started to feel hope falter within his heart. Could he ever find you again? Were you really out there? Maybe his twisted mind had been deluded. You were dead and gone. How could he ever be able to find you again? He held his hand to the pocket of his black cloak, the place where he kept your silk scarf close to his heart… time had damaged it and your scent had surely faded away now but he kept it nonetheless. 
Copia wandered in Spitalfields. It was late at night. The moon was throwing its pale light on the grey cobblestone of the street. The sound of silence filled the air only disturbed by the echoes of his heels on the pavements. The market which was usually overcrowded looked eerie at night. But none of those things aroused fear in Copia’s heart. Copia was hungry. 
Was there anyone foolish enough to go out at night in such a wretched place? Copia hoped so. But as he looked around, he saw nothing but cats and some rats. The immortal being wrinkled his nose… he had eaten rats a few times before to alleviate his unbearable hunger. But tonight, he did not want to feed on some rodents. He wanted fresh blood. He wanted to feel the thrill of sinking his teeth in someone’s neck. He had become this kind of monster after all... And he had done that many times before. Suddenly, Copia stopped. 
There she was. His prey. 
The woman was sitting on the edge of a small wall before an old statue, her hair was hiding her face. She was focused on something, blissfully unaware of the threat that was hanging over her. What was she doing out in this place at night anyway? This girl was undoubtedly looking to get herself killed! Copia licked his lips, his hunger growing. He could already taste her sweet blood on his tongue. He would...
Suddenly, the woman turned her head toward him. She gasped upon seeing him, her sketchbook dropping to the floor. In that instant, Copia's cold heart skipped a beat.
It could not be...
This woman wore your face!
Her eyes, her hair, the outline of her lips, the colour of her skin... She was your spitting image. His eyes snapped to the sketchbook on the ground. When it fell, it had opened on the page of a drawing… a sparrow. Copia felt his heart sink into his chest. His eyes widened, and his face turned paler than ever. He took a step back as the woman jumped off the wall 
"I have a knife!" the woman shouted. "I won't hesitate to cut you open if you try something!"
Copia's heart sank even further and his hunger disappeared all at once. The woman had your voice, he was certain of it. Even if he could not remember the melody of yours a moment before, he felt it was unmistakable; she was you. He had finally found you.
“I will not hurt you, bella,” Copia said eventually.
He took a step further, knowing that the darkness still concealed him from you. You pulled out a knife from your cleavage and pointed it towards him. A low chuckle escaped Copia’s lips, to his dismay, it sounded sinister. He found that he had forgotten how to laugh gleefully. But he did not let this dreadful realization hit him too hard. He had found you again. 
“Oh cara… You don’t know how long I have searched for you” In the dim moonlight, he saw you frown. A hint of confusion and terror flashed in your bright eyes.
“What…?”
Copia stood just a couple of meters away from you. Now, you could see his face.
Please remember me.
The vampire closed the distance between the two of you. You were obviously scared, trapped by the wall behind you. Frozen like a deer in headlights, you couldn't move. He knew he probably looked scary with his dissimilar eyes and the black paint around them. But slowly, and with careful movements, Copia raised his hands to your beautiful face. He was shaking with emotion, his mismatched eyes filled with love and devotion. Please remember me. 
"Please do not be scared, amore," he whispered, his voice soft like the murmur of a summer breeze.
You were still holding the knife toward him, but you never struck him. He could see that fear was gripping you, yet did not do anything to stop him from touching you. Eventually, his hands grazed your face as he cupped your cheeks tenderly. It felt like an electric shock, surpassing anything he had ever dreamed of; it was pure bliss. You were here, and he was touching you. The knife slipped from your trembling hand.
Please remember me.
He could see that you were closing your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for the worst, but instead of something harmful, you only felt his gentle touch.
Please remember me. 
“I have crossed oceans of time to find you” he murmured, drawing soft circles on your skin Time seemed to stop as you opened your beautiful eyes to look at him. But when he eagerly plunged his gaze into yours, the sharp knife of sorrow pierced through Copia’s heart. You did not remember.
Your eyes were filled with confusion and intense fear. Suddenly, you shoved him away and ran. Almost sounding like a wounded animal, he called your name desperately—or the name that was your many years ago. But you did not stop. You did not turn around. You ran. And let yourself be swallowed up by the darkness of the streets.
Copia stood there for a long, stunned. He felt like his cold heart was bleeding out in his chest. With a shaky breath, he leaned to retrieve the sketchbook and the knife you had left behind in his shaking hands. They would join your silk scarf on his aching heart.
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The next time Copia saw you, you were living another life, another life that he could have shared with you. Once again, he tried to reach you, only to be met with confusion and fear. His heart broke each time he tried until eventually the pieces of his heart could not be split any further.
It happened again many times after. He met you again. And again. It seemed as though the universe was trying to make up for all the years you had spent away from his eyes. However, it remained consistent in its cruelty. He would encounter you in all your lifetimes..
After a while, he decided to stop trying to get to you, to explain to you that you were his soulmate. Once he discovered you, he would simply watch you from afar most of the time. Every time you drew your last breath, he would embark on another search for you. He would watch you navigate through your lives, sometimes with a darling by your side.
How he wished he could be them...
The jealousy was hard to endure. Sometimes, he would even think of ripping these people apart out of bitter envy. But how could he blame them? You were so wonderful. And, in the end, Copia wanted you to be happy.
But as time flowed, and as he met and fell in love with you repeatedly, a cruel pattern emerged. Each time he discovered you more swiftly than before, fate seemed determined to tear you away from him just as quickly.
In this lifetime, you were a valiant nurse leaving to care for soldiers during the war. He saw you for a short moment on the platform of a train station before you climbed onto the train that would lead you to your ruin. In another, you were an ill girl of the night whom he managed to hold in his arms for one blissful night.
Every time, you were snatched away by Death with increasing haste. And always, you were robbed of your youth. The universe seemed eager to pluck you at the height of your bloom, as if unwilling to witness the slow decay of the magnificent flower you were.
But that meant you never knew a peaceful death.
That one time he attempted to spare himself the agony of finding you only to lose you again, you crossed his path unexpectedly.
The oceans of time were moody and tumultuous. You could never travel on the same boat. Each time he reached out for you, to grab you in his arms and never let go, the storm would snatch you away from him. Whatever he was trying to do, his heart ached. But he found that the pain was more intense when he could not see you...
So he would keep looking for you. Again. And again.
He would find you.
He would lose you. Again. And again.
Italy, Rome, March 1676
"Father, is this necessary?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty.
Your father glared at you from across the room, his disapproving gaze piercing through your soul.
"Yes, it is," he hissed, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "You need a prestigious education. You are my daughter. I won't allow you to be a disgrace or a disappointment. Is that understood?"
You remained silent, you knew he did not really expect an answer. You were well aware of your father's harsh and bitter nature. He had always resented you, perhaps because you were a girl instead of the precious son he had desired. But you were his daughter nonetheless, he had to keep up appearances. You knew he would not tolerate anything that could bring shame upon the family.
Turning away, you looked out the window of the opulent living room, yearning to be in the garden, drawing and savouring the melodies of the birds as they welcomed the arrival of spring.
A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.
You didn't turn around. You heard your father stride towards the door and open it.
"Ah, Your Eminence... it is such a pleasure to meet you," your father greeted with feigned politeness.
"Well, the pleasure is all mine, Signore," responded an unfamiliar voice, smooth and melodious.
A shiver ran down your spine upon hearing it. The voice was as sweet as honey, soothing and enchanting. You dared not turn around. Your father called your name, his tone a bit harsh. Slowly, you pivoted to face the man who had just entered the room. Your eyes met his captivating green gaze, and for a moment, it felt as if time had frozen around you. This man was undeniably handsome. When your father mentioned a Cardinal, you had envisioned an elderly and wrinkled figure. However, this Cardinal appeared quite young and attractive.
Donned in a red cassock, a wooden cross hanging from his neck, he possessed sharp features, with a slightly pointed nose. A small mustache graced his upper lip, while sideburns descended along his cheeks. His chestnut hair peeked from beneath the crimson biretta atop his head.
"H-Hello, Signorina," the Cardinal stammered after what felt like an eternity of gazing into each other's eyes. "It's... truly a pleasure to meet you."
A smile formed on your lips. In the end, you were grateful for your father's insistence on teaching you Latin.
Los Angeles, United States, after years of wandering in the dark… 
Copia had finally started another life. Some people had reached out to him, knowing what he was, and they did not mind at all. On the contrary, he became a symbol of their faith. Their Dark Lord had heard his prayers and blessed him with the power of darkness. His immortality and power symbolized the almightiness of Satan. He no longer had to hunt for blood; they provided it for him. Copia had regained the title of Cardinal, offering a slight distraction from his pain.
Years had passed since he last encountered you in one of your many lifetimes. It seemed like the universe had finally ceased its torture, and now Copia sailed on calmer waters. But he had to endure the pain of your absence again. Yet, Copia could not help but wonder why he suddenly stopped meeting you. Was the universe preparing something? What other vicious tricks did it have in store for him?
He tried to dismiss these thoughts and focus on the tasks ahead. But for now, he wanted to make the most of his peaceful afternoon stroll in the garden. Its serene beauty and the sweet smell of the flowers gently enveloped him. The gentle ray of sunshine caressed his skin, and the birds were chirping...
"Um, hello? Cardinal?"
The voice behind him startled him for two reasons—the suddenness of the person's appearance and the oh-so-familiar melody of the voice.
Cara mia...
Copia slowly turned around.
There you stood before him, radiating beauty and sweetness. Your face, your hair, your eyes, the colour of your skin and the beautiful outline of your lips. You smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat. His eyes wandered to the silk scarf you wore around your delicate neck. It looked like the one he had no stop wearing against his heart all these years. 
Of all the encounters he had with you, it was the first time you approached him on your own accord, the first time you reached out to him. A glimmer of hope shone bright in his mind. Warmth settled in his heart as he smiled back at you.
Maybe it was finally time. Maybe his journey through the oceans of time had finally come to an end. Perhaps he could finally set foot ashore.
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lunastrophe · 1 day
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Hello, can you make a post about drow's importance of fashion and moreover their braids and overrall hairstyle? What kind of styling they did, products they used... I would love that. You're truly a source of inspiration. Keep it going please! Thank you ❤️ Merci beaucoup.
Hello! Drow fashion is a delightful topic - I think I am going to create a few more detailed posts about drow clothes and beauty care in general. Thank you so much for inspiration! ❤️
For now, here are some basic information:
🕷️ Drow Clothing - in drow society, clothes reflect the drow's station and rank, especially among nobles. The best fabrics, like gossamer-like spider silks, are the most expensive, as well as intricate fabrics that resemble spider webs in their structure. Such web-like fabrics in clothing are often adorned with jewellery.
Leather is an easily available material in the Underdark, and it is often used by drow to produce various items of clothing. Top quality black leather is especially popular among nobles.
Some more common fabrics in the Underdark are made of mushroom fibers. Fabrics made of plant fibers or wool are naturally less common and more expensive, since they need to be obtained from the surface - as merchants' goods or as spoils from raids.
🕷️ Dress To Impress - surfacers often consider drow sense of fashion scandalous, but among drow, it is more about showing off their physical perfection and manifesting their self-confidence.
Drow generally take great care to conceal their physical flaws. In consequence, revealing clothing can be read as a message "I have no flaws to conceal" - or "I have flaws, so what? I am powerful enough not to care!", depending on one's attitude, station and power.
Piwafwi (drow cloaks) of nobles are often marked with specific colours and patterns, to indicate the owner's station and house.
🕷️ Hairstyles - drow usually wear their hair long, but many warriors crop their hair or even shave their heads (shorter hair = less chance for the enemy to grab it). Uthegentel of House Barrison Del'Armgo was wearing his hair short and spiked, most likely styled with some Underdark equivalent of hair gel.
For long hair, some drow use hairpins. It is quite popular among drow to make hairpins that are sharp enough to be used as weapons, or even hairpins that can store spells, like small wands.
Drow also braid their long hair. Triel Baenre, for example, was wearing her hair braided into a tight braid that was wrapped around her head like a crown - simple and practical.
One of young noble females from House Fey-Branche, adept in Arach-Tinilith, was described with her hair braided into three long braids.
Some drow like to braid their hair into many thin braids. Such braids could be used to create elaborate, durable hairstyles, often with help of a skilled servant. Liriel's party hairstyle was of this kind.
In Menzoberranzan, single-braided hair was a mark of a commoner (at least for a young drow male - as far as I remember, it was mentioned in description of only one character in Starlight and Shadows, so I am not really sure if it applies also to females or to older drow).
I also very vaguely remember that at least among Menzoberranyr drow, some hairstyles were reserved only for nobles from specific houses or of specific ranks - but I do not remember details, I would need to look it up.
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gabessquishytum · 5 months
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You ever have a cat that was utterly offended that you came home clearly smelling like another cat? 😁
Hob was visiting a friend’s house who just recently got a rather friendly catboy for themselves, and the catboy was perfectly pleased to play with Hob for most of the visit (whether that was playing or playing is up to you 😉).
He gets back home and is greeted by Dream and Cori, who suddenly smell this other catboy on their Hob and are Shocked!! Horrified!!! Scandalized!! Betrayed!!!!
Clearly he must be Shunned until he has properly groveled in apology for this transgression!!
Right after they thoroughly reclaim him to re-establish their “ownership” of him of course 😋
-🪽anon
I'm cackling. I just love the whole idea of this au. Hob should've known better than to play with another kitty!!! 😂
He barely gets through the door before he's bodyslammed by Cori and pinned to the floor in the hallway. Sharp claws dig through his clothes and Cori sits himself onto of Hob’s chest so he can't move at all! Meanwhile Dream growls and hisses and starts rubbing himself angrily all over Hob. He also makes sure that the clothes are properly shredded - Hob won't be wearing those again.
Hob gets a proper interrogation about where exactly he was touched, what kind of "games" he played with this interloper. His kitties pry the information out of him piece by piece while pinching Hob’s sensitive flesh with their sharp scratchy claws. They can't believe how unfaithful and slutty their human has been! Is it not enough that he's got both Dream and Cori?! Clearly they need to be paying more attention to him is he's feeling the need to go out and play with other people's pets.
Hob endures all the scratching and biting and eventually his kitties allow him up and as far as the bedroom. Once there he's incapacitated once again - he's given up begging for mercy by this point. His boys bend him over the bed and before he knows it, Hob is being filled with two little barbed cocks at once with minimal preparation. He whines and squirms but there's no let-up as his possessive little pets take their fill of him.
Once they've both cum inside him, and have finished smearing their fluids and scent all over Hob’s body, they seem willing to forgive him. In fact they both curl around him and purr like a pair of sweet innocent angels. And Hob knows that they'll be getting extra treats from him later.
He just can't help spoiling his favourite boys! And when he wakes up sore later, he'll have one or both of them to soothe him with a soft pink tongue. As long as they don't find out that he's been playing with that new dogboy down the street... 😉
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malum-af-cth · 9 months
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favorites of all time!
way way way back when i set up a spam account so i could send myself things i wanted to read later. essentially turning that chat into my TBR. i have sorted through them & i think the first thing to do with this rebrand is to give you a list of my favorite fics of all time. below you will find a list of my favorite reads with their writers & a smol why for it making the list. these are in no particular order. please enjoy!
*this list is 18+. Minors do not interact!*
list below the cut.
*most of these fics either are smut or contain some through slow burn structure. Please read each author's warnings for them before you engage. *
from the last 7 years, i have chosen 20 fics that i LOVE. here we go.
from @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog we have a story i remember getting me excited about what kind of writing could be on tblr. "the arrangement" a lost love fic. 9 parts of love & angst.
2. @sis-tafics out here with a sweet sweet physical innocence trope with the hottie dean winchester. "our little secret"
3. @hrina wrote such a beautiful H. Styles fic about his character in dunkirk. "Il Ritorno" is the first part of 3 fics. i love the little coming home to a new place & new people plot.
4. @supernatural-jackles is the author of one of the only fics to make me cry. "hey handsome" i remember reading this sobbing because i felt the emotions written into this SO deeply. I reached out to them & let them know how much i loved it. & i still love it so to this day.
5. @winchest09 is adding our first dark fic to this list. the slow burn on this one is so so so so good. i found this one a long long time ago & i would say it is one of the first fics that got me to explore the mafia verse "life for rent"
6. @negans-lucille-tblr is giving us another spoicy series up in here & it even has a sequal!!!!! (look down one) the ultimate D/s winchester series. it's oh so good! "you've got me beggin"
7. & for the sequel "Mercy" this series is so good i have re-read both 2-3 times. it felt like crack the first read on both of these lol.
8. oh oh oh okay! this next. one from @pink1031 is probably one of my absolute favorite stucky series. "our best girl" was the fic that sent me down a rabbit hole of stucky fics. i was addicted after this one.
9. @pink1031 is back at it again with the ONE fic on this list i know i have read a minimum of 6 times. it is THAT good. "dirty little secret" was so scandalous and sexy. a J2 fic that had me coming back for more all the time. my escapism really shined with this one.
10. i remember finding "lemon drop" by @impala-dreamer i love the dynamic written here between Sam Winchester x the reader. the intimacy in this one-shot is beautiful. this is something i wish i could have at the end of my days or when i feel like the world is too heavy. i felt seen through this fic.
11. @tuiccim 's style of writing is something i adore & admire. I fell in love through "almost had me believing it" it is truly a work of art. I was immersed into this undercover mission with my man BUCKY BARNES.
12. oh & another from @tuiccim with "Terrigenisis" this is such a good poly-stucky fic. the way it was written felt like it could have been canon.
13. WOAH now! this next one written by @world-of-aus is ICONIC. the universe that is "starkhub" is just so delectable. i remember when it was being published in the beginning i was like a dog with a bone. i will never get enough. I can't wait to see where else it gets taken.
14. this next one is quite possibly one of my favorite mob fics. I have linked the first installment of these lovely smutty stucky fics. "tell me what you want" is the first step into such a delicious universe. thank you @angrythingstarlight for all you write.
15. an absolute banger from @sagechanoafterdark with "codename: Lazarus". i can't exclaim loud enough how good this one is. it had me on the edge of my seat. so dynamic. the order in which you read the parts for this one changes the perspective. don't worry they have put an excellent order at the bottom of the masterlist. :)
16. @avintagekiss24 i wanna start out by saying that I love the space you have created with your blog. when i found "lay me down in the tall-green grass" i thought i found fanfic heaven. i will cherish it always. i kept coming back to this one-shot to relive it as much as possible.
17. i've been thinking about "stained like georgia clay" by @georgiapeach30513 a lot lately. i remember binge-reading it & soaking up every droplet of goodness i could. ;) & that thunderstorm scene 🥵. i'll leave you with that...
18. here lies the "howling comandos tattoo au" that altered my brain chemistry just a little. @navybrat817 stole my heart long before this one dropped. however, this au had me sitting patiently waiting with my hands folded.... um no i was mentally ON MY KNEES.
19. i can confidently say that @georgiapeach30513 's "you were the one" is my favorite Lloyd hansen series ever. i crave a fics that are this good. it all started from a one-shot & then i found out a prequel was being written to it & i screamed in excitement.
20. A quality fic that i have had actual dreams about in the past. comes from @themhoodgirlz . for my 5sos girlies out there "close" tingles my brain in the right ways. i reminisce about the dynamic these two have. years ago when i was a BIG 5sos stan i lowkey hoped & dreamed for that to be me lol.
alright, alright, alright. that concludes my first rec list. I want to thank all of these amazing, amazing authors who have shared their skills & talents with the world. your works have given me sweet escapes, brightened my days, & expanded my love for all of the characters & ppl you write for. <3 all my love,
prynne
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peoneys · 1 year
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Just as he was thinking about him, he fell face to face with the object of this fiercest headaches.
The man was lazily sprawled unto his divan, surrounded by diverse cushions and fabrics thrown astray, one of his feet resting upon his shin as the other rested upon a cushioned stool.
He already could feel the start of a blossoming pain between his temples and just as he took in the state of dress -or rather undress- of the man in front of him, he could tell this one would be one his worst yet.
It was known far and wide that Dorne housed vastly different ethics than its northern neighbors. But being witness to it was far more shocking than just hearing about it in court talks. 
By the Seven. 
If his mother was ever to witness such a behavior -and she probably would by the end of their stay in the palace- she would surely grow gray hair in her brown curls. 
She had always favored high-collars dresses who hid perfectly any inch of skin on her chest and shoulders. And if by any chance eyes were to drift lower on her frame, they would be greeted by the cold gold of her seven pointed star necklace she adored so much.
Many omega gladly followed his mother’s fashion, and since the day she had been crowned queen, the followers of the court would be dressed in similar ways. 
And yet, now, even his older sister’s plunging necklines could not compare to the levels of scandalous shamelessness he was presently witnessing.
“Must you stand there and gape like a dumb stricken fool ?”
Ah. There it was. The headache.
“And must you always be of such disagreeable company.” it was a question he already had the answer to, unfortunately.
His remark had earned him a small round of low chuckles. The movement of it making every piece of jewelry the prince was wearing emit a light tinkling. 
Bare chested, with a long piece of cotton barely hiding his lower half in the proper ways, this was far from the memory of the simply clad boy he had kept with him for the thirteen years they had been apart.
“I only aim to please,” he said, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. “You should get used to it. Your family is here to stay for yet more insufferable moons.”
He scrunched up his face at the evident venom in the prince’s tone.
Where had the soft spoken and tender boy he had grown up with disappeared, he wondered. He had barely been four years of age when it was decided the eldest prince of Sunspear was to be fostered at the Red Keep, for the time the tensions with the Rhoynish peninsula would ease and cease.
The prince, of ten then, had appeared a small thing of agreeable temper. Silent unless spoken to. He could remember a time when no jewels would ever adorn his frame. Always dressed in the most simple of ways even during grand events where frivolity was expected of someone of his status.
Even his hair had been worn the shortest, shorn close to his scalp for the near decade he had spent at King’s Landing. The court at the Red Keep would often mistake him for an attending boy then. 
And yet, the same could not be said now.
Before him unmistakably sat none other than a prince, dressed in fine linens the colors of his house, bejeweled from head to toe. You could hear him minutes before appearing just by the chiming sound of his accessories.
“Do not forget, it is my family’s kindness that allowed you to be treated accordingly to your rank during your stay at the Keep. When others would have considered you no more than a war prisoner.” 
It was the wrong thing to say and he immediately noticed it. He was met with a glare full of disdain.
“Ah, yes, the famously known royal family’s merciful tendencies,” he said, with a slight dismissive wave of one of his ringed hands.
His eyes immediately traveled to the numerous scars the prince adorned on the back of both his hands, just to be raised again, this time on the dainty silver choker he knew rested upon the long line of the scar he wore at the side of his neck. The scar he had earned the same night he had lost his eye himself.
Wasn’t life funny.
“I’ll do you a kindness, your Grace, and remind you. As kind as your family was during my boyhood,” he huffed with a sharp smile, a storm gathering in his eyes. “You. Are currently staying in mine own ancestral home, to discuss peace treaties. And your peace is but hanging by the threads of my moods.” 
As to display the finality of his words, the dornish prince took hold of the long braid which held his hair together, flashing the sun shaped pins at the end. And, as the ringing of the trinkets echoed in the room when he threw his braid over his shoulder, the words of house Martell resonated in his head like a warning.
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fangirlsblogtolife · 2 years
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My Top 10 favorite WEBTOONS:
1. Return of the Blossoming Blade
It’s an absolute must read. It’s incredibly funny and suspenseful. This Webtoon will keep you on the edge of your seat every episode.
2. Lore Olympus
This is one is a must read. If you haven’t read it, please do. It’s currently the number 1 Romance Webtoon right now.
3. Rewriting the Villianess
Another one that is funny. It gives a freaky Friday feel between author and main heroine.
4. Midnight Poppy Land
Main male lead is a gangster with a soft heart for an innocent girl. Did I also mention he’s drop dead gorgeous and is covered in tattoos?
5. Brass & Sass
High School Romance that is nostalgic and fun to read. It will definitely pull on your heart strings.
6. The Remarried Empress
This one takes you back in time during Imperial Rulers with a magical twist and lots of drama filled scandals.
7. Men of the Harem
Another story talking place back during Kings and Queens, but its funny, magical, and endearing. Main female lead is incredibly sharp.
8. Purple Hyacinth
Who doesn’t love a dark yet funny story about an assassin and a police officer whose a vigilante at night? Do they make a great team or is there something bigger than the both of them about to unfold? The truth of it all? Read it to find out.
9. Like Wind on a Dry Branch
Magic, kingdoms, a very handsome King, and his very beautiful mage whose past remains a slight mystery.
10. Let’s Play
A young woman trying to figure out her love life while attempting to set boundaries with her overbearing father. Who will she end up with? Her cute gamer streaming neighbor or her boss at work with a complicated past?
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stranger-masters · 1 year
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Stop It! (S.H; E.M)
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OC Name: Jordan Harrington.  Brother: Steve Harrington.  Best Friend: Eddie Munson.  Summary: Jordan's having a bad day. Steve and Eddie know she's ticklish, so they wanna cheer her up. It goes as well as expected.
Tags: Fluff. Just pure brother-sister-brother fluff. 
Post S4. 
"Stop, leave me alone!" Jordan snapped as Steve grabbed her book. "Jesus, sorry." He dropped it on her lap. Glaring one last time, she went back to it, and Steve frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked, and she stiffened. Though she was his sister, she reminded him of Max. Stubborn, not wanting to open up, and moody. "Jordan. What's wrong?" Steve asked again.  "Honey, I'm home!" Eddie Munson called (screamed, really), and Steve called, "Why are you so loud all the damn time?" Eddie smirked as he came in the living room. "Have you met me?" Steve snorted. "Unfortunately." Jordan snapped, "Can you guys flirt somewhere else, please."  They stared at her, and Eddie asked, "Everything okay, Jordan?" "No, buzz off." She growled, trying to focus-
Her book was ripped from her hands sharply. "Hey!" "Don't be rude to him," Steve frowned, holding the book above her reach.  "Give it back!" Jordan shouted, straining.  "Apologize to Eddie!" Steve said. She sighed. "Sorry." She hesitated. "Can I have it back now?" "What's wrong?" Steve asked instead, and she relented, dropping exhaustedly against the couch. "Someone...said something today. About Eddie. And...I'm kind of...suspended?" "For what?!" Steve squawked, and Eddie asked, "What did they say?" She pointed to Eddie. "There was this senior that said that you were probably using me, you know...as a virgin sacrifice...?" She grimaced.  Eddie stared at her, and Steve swore, kicking the chair closest to him. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and Jordan rushed on, "And I got mad, told him to apologize, so he called me a bitch." "He WHAT?!" Eddie shouted, and Jordan shouted back, "And I got even more mad and punched him in the face, and then I couldn't really stop, and Mr. Hayek had to pull me off?" They stared at her. Mr. Hayek was the P.E. teacher, the strongest one there (don't ask how they tested this) and if it took a grown, strong-as-fuck, 54-year-old man to pull a 15-year-old-girl off of a senior, she'd been pissed.  "Um...remind me not to piss you off." Eddie mumbled, and Jordan shook her head. "Nah, I...don't really know how it happened. I just...blacked out, and when I came to, able to recognize things and people and where I was, he was on the ground. I broke his nose and gave him a black eye. Two of them, actually." "Jesus fuck," Steve said, eyes wide.  "Sorry, but you don't insult my family and get away with it." She shrugged, not missing the way Eddie's eyes grew wet. "Thanks, hon." He smiled, sitting by her, and she curled into his side, her feet finding Steve's lap when he sat, too. "But people will always say something about me, and you can't fight everyone." "Why the hell not?" "Language," Steve said, smacking her ankle, and she grinned. "Sorry. Why the fu--" "I think not!" Steve shouted like a scandalized mother, poking near her ribs, and she shrieked, "Stop, no!" "Ohhh." Eddie grinned, and she hated it. "Don't you fucking dare." She hissed dangerously, but Steve grabbed her arms, holding her down, and Eddie mercilessly attacked her sides, making her shriek and thrash. "NO, NO, STO-HO-HO-HO-HO-P!" She screamed, laughing the whole time. "STE-HE-HE-HE-HEVE!" She screamed, trying to kick him and failing. "E-HE-HE-HE-HEDDIE, MERCY!" She was starting to cry from laughing so hard, and finally, the boys relented, leaving her panting like she'd run four miles in four minutes. "Hey." Eddie nudged her, and she squeaked, shielding her sides. Eddie chuckled, "Thank you for, well...fighting someone in my honor, but please don't do it again. People will always say something, like I said, and I'm used to it." "But you shouldn't be." She said, and it made Eddie want to cry. "I know." He rested his chin on her forehead, and her eyes slid closed. "Love you, Eddie. Please don't leave us." He blinked back tears, seeing Steve smile. "I won't. I'm here to stay." He whispered, and just like that, they fell asleep through the night. 
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loruleanheart · 1 year
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✨ and 🥳 for the ask game ?
✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?
Ooo, this is so hard to choose... Here's a few....
>>“Could we PLEASE move those bananas off the altar! They’re an eyesore! What a baleful affront to Lord Ganon.”
This made me laugh so hard! I could hear Astor's voice so clearly!
I like how you write the villainous trio! They're so well done. Astor, ambitious and sort of grumpy, really thinking the Yiga are beneath him. Kohga is perfectly irreverent. Sooga is quietly scandalized by how rash Astor seems to him.
I'm enjoying this so far. Special mention to the cinematic mirroring of Zelda and Astor's actions.
(Also I liked the grandness of the prologue ♡) - Sturms_Sun_Shattered, Chapter 2 of Desired Fate.
Everything match to make a believable history and legend for Lorule, down to tiniest details. Despite of the similarities with Hyrule, it's amazing to see how different the triforce bearers of Lorule and their dinamics are. It kind of...fit that Hope would trust Beauty and ignore Reason, then only dim when listening to Reason when Beauty proves deceptive. Their fated cycle of reincarnation seems a much sadder one than that of Hyrule. The trifoces of Lorule seem more beautiful, and those of Hyrule more austerious... Yet, there is hope in Hyrule for all bright hearts after their duty is fillufiled, and they can know true peace however brief. While Lorule is likely fated to slowly descend into despair once danger is dealt with, and the remaining bearers, to live in gloom until a new bearer for Beauty is born for the dance of distrust and betrayal to begin over again. No wonder they would want to destroy their heavy bearing Trifoce. I'm impressed. You seem to be a brillant person.
On another hand, I wonder how you plan to explain that the bearer of Beauty has a huge crooked nose and can't seem to know good taste in clothing himself. Jokes are good, but really, how? - Chrysale (Silvara) on Chapter 18 of The Legend of Hilda.
Alright, I jumped the gun on that one, I thought chapter 24 was the end and I was clearly mistaken. I'm glad I was, though, because I love chapters like this, showing the aftermath of the big finale and how life slowly goes back to normal. Let me tell you, you really have a talent for making these unlikely pairings work, I never thought I'd be rooting for Yuga and Hilda, but you got me there. Astor and Zelda, though, that's even more of a challenge, Astor was such a dimensionless, one-note antagonist and the both of them really had no relationship whatsoever in the game, but you brought to life a colorful and compelling relationship between them that we actually get to see being built. The end result in this chapter, the two being happy and celebrating their soon to be family was so heartwarming and satisfying. I just have to say, that physician, daaamm, the man's lucky he still has a head, Zelda has patience and mercy like no one else, I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Anyway, another scene that impacted me was Zelda and Astor going to the tech lab to pick up the guardian only for their trauma to make taking it to their home and having it near their family unthinkable, ptsd is real. This was a fantastic chapter and an amazing ending! Well done! - Prometheus17 on epilogue of Desired Fate (fanfiction.net)
🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?
No one else was writing the sort of thing I wanted to read... Or they did, but then abandoned the fic. T_T
Thanks @lize-the-prophetprophet for the ask!
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valiantroeagleangel · 6 months
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On replay.
Will Ramos x female reader
Not that much of a plot, toy, masturbation.
Tag list: @circle-with-me @witchyweeb3 @malice-ov-mercy @darkhallcorner @sthnog @loeytuan98
Yes, I have a tag list now 🥹 (*proud mama intensifies*) Still possible to add people if you tell me what you're interested in, love you ♡
Wrote this last week because why is no one writing about Will? I haven't found one fanfiction on him and that is SCANDALOUS (please send me some, this is a desperate lady talking). Anyway, my man is so hot he deserves some recognition. Even if this is more a drabble than a real smut, we're going straight to the point here.
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Will was leaving tomorrow and you hated that. He was going on tour, once again. The last time he left was kind of hard for both of you, you were used to it now but it still hurt. You didn’t want him to leave you, even if it was something regularly happening.
Sitting on the edge of the bed you were rummaging through the drawer of the nightstand looking for an old necklace you left there while Will was finishing his luggage next to you, always doing it last minute.
You heard him groan in the closet, looking for some t-shirt that apparently "mysteriously disappeared in the night because I swear I saw it there yesterday", which made you chuckle.
-I'm being serious! Don't laugh! I saw it, I had it in my hands and then I went to the nightstand and- He was reproducing the things he did last night to remember where he put it.
When he turned himself toward the nightstand, you decided to open the little door under the drawer, revealing his shirt. Happy he smiled, stepping to you to take his clothing as he left a sweet kiss on your forehead to thank you.
But when you started to close the door you found a box that was concealed under his shirt, hidden with a discreet wrapping paper. Bending yourself a little you took it in hand with no idea of what it was.
Will had already disappeared again in the closet when you called him, curious. Deafened by all the noises he was making, he didn't understand what you said until he pulled himself out.
-What did you say, love? He asked, his head turning too far towards you.
-What's in this box? You lifted your hand, showing him the present you held.
His eyes widened, not expecting you to find it already but obviously, he lost his shirt when he hid that here so finding his shirt also meant finding the box.
He bit his lower lip, letting all the clothes he had in his arms on his suitcase. Slowly, he came to sit next to you on the bed, his fingers tangling with themselves.
-It's um- it's for you. I thought about giving it to you later but I guess you can open it now. He was a bit awkward and you arched a brow at him, not sure where he was going.
Silently, you tore the paper off revealing a black box, very minimalist which was definitely not helping you to know what it was. Curious again, you questioned him silently as he leaned on the bed, trying to relax.
-Come on, open it now, you're stressing me.
He laughed softly at you while you resumed your unboxing. Opening it you discovered a purple toy, that was quite long, making your eyes widen.
You looked back at Will trying to guess what was going on inside his head but he only looked back at you, a small grin on his lips.
-It's for you to not feel that lonely. I chose it myself, it does that little thing you like when I touch you. He mimicked it with his fingers, making you blush urgently.
He quickly noticed your discomfort, his smile leaving him as he straightened himself.
-I mean it's okay if you don't want it. I just thought that maybe, I don't know, that way you would think about me? Maybe it would make you feel less lonely, it's like I would be there? Well not really but I thought about that so... God, I don't know. It's fine if you don't like it, really.
He was panicking and you felt your cheeks flushed at his words. It's not like you never talked about it, you just never took the plunge and suddenly it made you feel a bit hot.
Will passed a hand through his hair, waiting for you to say something but you muttered yourself in silence, butterflies installing themselves in your stomach as you thought about masturbating with it, Will settling in your fantasies.
Imagining how you would just lay on the bed, missing him, imagining him touching you while you fucked yourself with the toy. Moaning his name like he was the one with you.
Shit, you were certainly blushing hard now as you tried to shake all your phantasms away. He called your name, trying to get your attention back to him but you only kept to mindlessly stare at him.
Will sighed, a bit disappointed by his gift, he thought it was a good idea in the beginning. Now he overthought it and felt like it was a really shitty idea. Of course it would make you uncomfortable, you were not as comfortable about all of this as he was and he knew that.
He felt bad to have made you uneasy like that.
-Excuse me, love. I should have known it was going to bother you.
He leaned on to kiss your temple making you close your eyes at the feeling while he took the box from your hands.
-It's okay Will. You breathed out, finally focusing on him, your thighs discreetly clenching together.
-I'm sorry. He looked at you with puppy eyes only to find you breathing a bit more heavily next to him.
-Don't be. You exchanged another look as you boldly spat out your words. You can use it on me. Please, use it on me.
For once he was the one stupidly staring at you with a surprised look on his face. He didn't answer you, his mind racing to proceed if you really just said that or not.
-Use it on me before you leave. You shifted closer to him. Use it on me so that I will think of you every time I'll fuck myself with it.
Alright, it didn't take him much more time to realize what you just said now. He was not going to let that chance go away. Without thinking he threw the box to the side, jumping on you in the second.
You both giggle at his reaction, letting him crawl to you as you lay down on the bed. His lips quickly came for yours, pecking your mouth while you gently cupped his face. Ghosting his lips against yours, he eventually pulled back with a smirk, making you chase him.
-So, you're keeping it?
-Hm hm, maybe. You draw him back to your lips, forcing him to kiss you again.
Of course, you were keeping it, that was one of the hottest things he did for you. You may almost want him to leave earlier so that you can use it by yourself already.
His lips still on yours you felt his hands ramble immediately to your pants, putting them down. His hot fingers started to brush your hips and thighs gently, his gaze still on your face.
-You're sure it's alright, love?
-Yes. You nodded, whining a bit as you squirmed under him. Please;
He smiled at you, lowering his head to your thighs, gently kissing the interior. His hot breath against your skin, your hands quickly found the back of his head, pushing on it.
Looking down you felt your insides tighten as you met his gaze. He was staring at your face, analyzing every one of your expressions. His mouth left your thighs to rise to your underwear, kissing your core through it until he lifted his kisses again, pushing your shirt up to leave wet kisses on your stomach.
You gasped and shifted under him, feeling one of his hands joining your core where his mouth left you alone. His fingers gently brushing onto you, they tried to be as gentle as they could to not attack you directly.
Your gaze wandering you saw the toy on the side of the mattress, not far away from you and it made you clench at the sight. Urging Will, you reached out to the nightstand, pulling out a tube of lube.
You felt him smirk against your stomach, his lips not leaving you as he intensified his caresses on your wet underwear, making a soft moan escape you.
-Will, hurry. Please.
You tried to rock your hips against his hand, looking for more friction. 
Gladly he obeyed you, his fingers dipping in the clothing as they immediately found their way to your core. Pleasure got to you, your cheeks and feet heating as his fingers slowly started to thrust into you and, fuck, it felt good already. 
Extending your arm you reached out for the box, grabbing it and silently giving it to Will.
His head stood up, leaving your belly to look at you, then at the box as he opened it with one hand. He put the toy out and showed it to you making you realize the size of it. You clenched on his fingers, your eyes widening while you looked back at him a bit panicked.
-There is no fucking way that this is going to fit.
He curled his fingers inside of you, reaching that sweet spot, just like you liked it as a loud moan escaped you.
-Yes it will. He came to kiss your cheek. Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you.
Reluctantly you spread your legs, watching him fall back to sit on his knees between your thighs. Taking the lube that you got out a little before his fingers left you, making you feel the emptiness of their demise. You sighed at the feeling, letting Will grab the toy and put some lube on it.
-We don't want your new friend to hurt you, hm? Be patient.
You tried to be but the view of your boyfriend, cautiously wetting the object, made you want more even if its size scared you a bit.
His hand resting back on your inner thigh he kept your legs open for him, teasing you with the tip of the dildo. The coldness of the thing made you squirm under him, your legs automatically trying to clench together.
Still, he slowly pushed it in you, watching you stiffen every time he went a bit deeper. Your face contorted as you felt the silicone completely fill you. Once the toy fully in you, you tried to reach for Will, your arms extending as you straightened yourself a little bit.
He gladly came to you, his head finding its way to your neck as he nibbled on your skin. After some time you felt your hips starting to move on their own, eager for more when you were ready to fuck yourself on your own on that thing if he wasn't willing to move it.
You only heard him chuckle as his hand quickly pressed something at the bottom of the toy, turning it on when you expected the least.
The feeling got you jolting under him, your arms immediately coming to surround his neck making you cling to him. 
He let you do so, turning the switch once again as the vibrations intensified. Only a desperate cry got out of you. You didn't know how to react to the sensation, it just felt really good and really quick. The sensation of Will leaving kisses on your neck and jaw at the same time got you overwhelmed. You just needed more of that, you could crash him on your chest to feel more of that heat.
Will's lips came to yours, kissing passionately as his hand inclined the toy to a different angle inside of you.
-Do that again- God, just like that, right there. You tensed up at the feeling, letting him hit that spot again.
Separating himself from you he straightened a bit, one of his hands still playing with you while the thumb from his free hand came to your clit, circling on it.
His finger in synchronization with the toy got you reaching your high much faster than you both expected. You begged him to come back to you, needing to feel his body tower you when your orgasm washed over you. Leaving your clit he leaned on again, his lips on yours he kissed you as his other hand kept fucking you through your orgasm.
Once you stopped trembling under him he turned it off leaving it in your core nonetheless.
-Already came, ugh?
You looked at him totally enhanced as you nodded, tears in your eyes.
-Fuck, I love that thing. He smiled, proud of himself and his buy. I'm going to make you come over and over.
His body left you to regain its place between your thighs, he kissed them one more time before turning it on again.
By instinct you grabbed his curled hair firmly, surprised by his actions.
-Why are you turning this on again? You moaned, still way too sensitive from your first orgasm.
He bit your inner thigh.
-Oh we're going to do that all night, until the only thing you'll be able to remember when you touch yourself is how much I made you come with that thing.
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childofchrist1983 · 2 years
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The city of Corinth had been an evil place, full of idol worship. After Paul came into the city and preached to them, and they had been converted, they had a difficult time shaking off the old ways. There was still a lot of immorality in the city, perversion, and evil behavior. Paul teaches them in this Holy Scripture that love does not delight in evil, but that it rejoices in the truth.
It's very common for people to enjoy watching other people mess up. We see television evangelists, for example, who fall into sin publicly and people seem to take some kind of pleasure in that. We see celebrities who seem to have it all and get involved in some scandalous lawsuit and we take delight in their mistakes. That's not love. We shouldn't love seeing people make mistakes, and we certainly shouldn't love the fact that any other person is trapped in an immoral life. Love seeks the truth; love rejoices in the truth.
When we love somebody, when we truly show the love of Jesus Christ, we look for good things, we look for positive things. We should love seeing somebody get clean from drug addiction or alcohol addiction. We love seeing people change their lives for the better. When someone has lived an immoral life and behavior and he begins to live a clean life, we should rejoice in that. We should be encouraging. We shouldn't be waiting for that person to fall. That's not our job as Christians. Like our Father in Heaven, we are to love that person, and if we love that person, we want to see him or her be successful. We do not rejoice in the evil thing they've done but we should rejoice in the truth and the good things that they have chosen to do in their lives.
May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!
Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!
Father God Almighty, Lord Jesus, I thank you for giving me a choice. I ask You always to help me choose the truth and not evil ways.
Please don't let me take pleasure in another person's pain. Remind me that my job is not to delight in their suffering or in their evil practices but to rejoice in the good decisions that they've made and the truthful decisions that they've made. Help me to be a part of the solution and not a part of the problem. Help me to love good and defend myself and others against evil, as You did for all of us. Help us live soberly and seek to be holy in our whole persons and lives. May our lives show the world Your light and Truth and that You are a loving God and Heavenly Father who delights in showing love and mercy. May we all be humbly and faithfully honored and excited to worship, glorify and serve You daily and to do Your will. You have been so good to us, far more than we as wretched sinners deserve. You are so good! So wonderful! Forever and always!
Thank you, O Lord, for all Your creation and Your miraculous ways. Thank You for being our stronghold and my refuge. Thank you for seeing us as worth the sacrifice. Thank you for sustaining us, loving us and defining us according to Your will and love for us. Thank you for making sure we are taken care of. Thank you for being the best friend we could ever have! Thank you for Your endless mercy and love that has saved us. Thank you for always protecting us and providing for us and for Your Spirit to help us when we are in need. Thank you for giving us a chance to be saved from our sin and spend eternity with You. Thank you for adopting us as part of Your family in Heaven and making us one of Your own. Thank you for being our present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46:1). Thank you for always being near and for loving us. Thank you for giving us a reason to love others and so many more reasons to love, praise, serve and follow You. Thank you for Your selfless and sinless sacrifice. Thank you for Your guidance and protection. Thank you for Your Truth and light. Thank you for Your wisdom and strength and grace. Thank you for giving life to the world and to us. You give and take away – And we thank you for it. Thank you for everything! Your will be done! Blessed be Your mighty name! To You and Your Kingdom be the glory forevermore! In Your name I humbly pray, Amen and amen
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