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#consider this a thanks for the kind words on gratitude day :)
holocene-sims · 4 months
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a sneak peek for an upcoming (timeline tbd) update 😊
#holocene.txt#hlcn: story extras#consider this a thanks for the kind words on gratitude day :)#i wanna respond to everyone individually when i have time and also wax poetic about how much every comment means to me#it really does mean a lot#it's been a rough year and a very lonely year like i'm genuinely just so :/#i lost both of my grandmothers this year very suddenly and the holidays feel empty now and i'm dealing with scary health issues#i finally had a brain mri after waiting for it to get scheduled since JUNE and now i have to wait on results and undergo some other testing#and i'm losing my mind a little because i planned a nice christmas gift for my mom and it feels ruined because the post office lost it#and my dad ruined the whole surprise of it by calling customer support on speaker phone with her in the room...and she ofc heard everything#i just wanted something nice for my mom :( she deserves it and although i have other gifts for her still it's not all what i planned#i don't mean to rant but i just wanted to add context when i say it means a lot that anyone even remotely likes my pixels#i may not know most of you very well *yet* (trying to fix that!!) but it's nice to feel a little support from somewhere :) beyond nice#and sorry for being absent a lot this year but i swear i have so much appreciation for y'all and i love you and your pixels dearly#i always feel bad like maybe it doesn't seem like i care in return bc i'm offline a lot now but i really do!! i care a lot!! love y'all xox
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i23kazu · 6 months
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GENSHIN MEN & SHOWING YOU THEIR LOVE !
characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe neuvillette wriothesley x reader genre. romantic fluff!! an. i made a part 1 a looong time ago but it's time for another round of how deep is your love how deep is yooour loooove | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
xiao, who shows his love to you by silently leaving items that you mentioned that you like on your bedside stand, so that you have something to be happy about once you wake up. some days it's a bundle of qingxins or silk flowers, and other days, a bag of salty snacks from chef mao's kitchen. thank him by wrapping your arms around him, and whisper in joyful gratitude.
zhongli
zhongli, who shows his love to you by subtly acknowledging your presence in his life whenever he's talking to someone. a quiet nod in your direction whenever someone asks about any of his achievements is a common reoccurence, with a soft smile on his face as well. it's a sweet thing, almost like a shared little secret between the both of you.
diluc
diluc, who shows his love to you by making sure that he's on time when picking you up from work. he always gets there five to ten minutes earlier, so that he can pick up your favourite pastry from the cafe next door. it's a sweet thing, diluc's love – hold it close and treasure it, because he will never give this love that he gives you to anyone else.
kaeya
kaeya, who shows his love to you by continuously texting you throughout the day. the sweet reminder that you're always on his mind makes you smile with each notification lighting up your phone screen. a groan escapes your lips as he sends you a sweet message that reads, "reminded me of you, xoxo! miss you!". sweet, isn't it? attached to it is a picture of his work bathroom.
childe
childe, who shows his love to you by listening to your shared playlist with him throughout the day. laufey, beadadoobee, adam melchor, joji, and more are beats constantly pumping him through the day. he sends you screenshotted and annotated lyrics of your favourite songs, highlighting the word "love" over and over again.
neuvillette
neuvillette, who shows his love to you by remembering the little things that you like. it might be that small bakery in the north of fontaine, or that spot with the bunch of pretty flowers that you took him to once. if you love something, he remembers – it's an unforgettable kind of love, and it's the kind of love that makes you fall in love with neuvillette over and over again.
wriothesley
wriothesley, who shows his love to you by choosing to come home every single day after a long day of work at the fortress. he's weary and he shuffles his feet back to the door of your – but he doesn't care, because he's home. seeing your face light up once you see him reminds him of why he chooses to commute an hour just to get to the fortress and home, instead of staying at the fortress.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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Her Words
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Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction and the backlash from your family |  Mini-Series Masterlist
Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist
A/N: You all asked for a part 2 so ask and you shall receive! Again thank you for the request on this one it was really fun to write :)
Warnings: hitting, some sexual suggestions
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You could feel your handwriting getting progressively worse as the weeks went by.
That was one thing you had not considered as a side-effect from spending so much time with Aemond.
Every hallway, every corner, every walk in the garden. There was always some off-chance that your paths would cross. And every time this coincidence seemed to happen, there was a stupid smile on your face and your hands grip on your notebook seemed less and less. One a few of occasions he had dared to close the space between you, whether it was to brush a hair from your face or to run a warm hand over yours. All of this serving to send warmth to your cheeks that a smile that reached your eyes.
Nobody was more surprised of this behaviour, than Aemond himself. Though he would never admit it to himself.
He had already gifted you one book, written entirely in cursive Valyrian, promising to read you through it, to teach you how to pronounce the words like a native. The book had been kept well and separate from the rest of them in the library. The cover was a wine colour and there was not a rip on it.
And when he extended the book out to you, your hands delicately traced the patterns on the front, inspecting all the details as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Your eyes had found his, wide and bright with gratitude and a slight film of tears coated them, mouth pulling into a line to stop yourself from crying at the kind gesture.
 "Ziry iksos issa jaelagon naejot rȳbagon ao pikībagon bisa, issa riñnykeā"
 When he spoke Valyrian, it almost seemed too perfect. His voice was suited to it, and it was a shame that he could not speak it all the time. The way he formed the words, his intonation, all serving to set off a spark inside you. And at the notion that he spoke only to you. For you.
It is my wish to hear you read this, my lady.
The words were sweet. But you relished in the way he said them more so.
The book nestled in your arms, you looked down, trying to hide the blush that very quickly was heating your face from the Prince before you. Your hand smoothed over your clothed arm, picking at the wrinkles in it with anxiety. Your hand went to your side and the mind raced at the notion that your notebook was not there.
And he was stood before you, regarding you and the way your anxious face formed being separated from your notebook. Of course, it had not been an accident. You had dared for this day to leave it behind, but now the space where it would have been seemed endless. Like those soldiers who return from battle with a limb missing, but still feeling it, still being able to control it.
Your eyes briefly met Aemond's and he could see the panic in your eyes. And you need not be panicked or anxious, you knew he was patient and kind, despite appearances.
"gūrogon aōha jēda…" He said quietly, he had his hands laced behind his back and his good eye looked down on you softly.
Take your time.
He looked so peaceful it bought a pain on your heart. Nobody was as patient as him. Nor had anyone in the past been.
You send him a ghost of a smile in thanks, looking away to pull in a long breath of air, so much so that your lungs ached. You let yourself exhale first before bringing another burst of air in, mouth open to form the words,
"i-iska…no, iksā to-l-lī sȳz…" you manage, the nerves being the cause of it more than anything, "…d-dārilaros Aemond…"
You are too kind, Prince Aemond.
You dared look back up at him once you'd finished the sentence. There was that look again, the darkened look he always gives you whenever you say his name. Your grip on the book tightened once again seeing him take a step towards you and he could hear a breath get caught in your throat. He was so close you could see all the details of his dragon-shaped clasps on his tunic. So close you could smell his scent around you. So close that you thought he might touch you.
"nyke hae ziry skori vestrā ñuha brōzi…"  
I like it when you say my name.
His hand came to a lock of your hair at the side of your face, running the strands through his dextrous fingers. His other fingers ran across your jaw, sending a chill through you, only to come to rest his palm on your cheek. His motions were so slow and calculated that it sent a heat through your body that settled in your stomach. You swallowed back, suddenly nervous in his presence, even more so when you felt his thumb trace the outside of your lip.
Your eye never moved from his.
"ivestragon ziry aril"
Say it again.
To anyone else it would have been a command. But he seemed desperate to hear it again and a shuddered breath came from you again.
And before you could even prepare yourself, do all your breathing and calming, the words seemed to pass your lips as naturally as the sun rises over the horizon.
"Aemond…"
He was so close still, a smirk on his face and a smile on your own. All anxiety seemed pressed down below the surface, replaced with something new. Something you thought you would never experience.
Desire.
A desire for his company. For his understanding and patience. But also a desire for him. For him to be pressed to you as if in need and desperation. You could feel your throat constrict at the mere thought.
"kostan ūndegon skoros iksā otāpagon…" He started.
I can see what you are thinking.
"…ñuha riña"
Against his better judgement, he withdrew his hand from you to place behind his back once more, standing back to revel in the effect he had on you. You knew what he was doing and it was not original in the slightest, but it still made you smile bashfully, fingers desperately gripping the book he had given you.
He cleared his throat as if he himself was also nervous, " kessa nyke ūndegon ao tolī…tolī ñuha gūrēñare?" he asked. Shall I see you later, after my training.
You nodded in earnest and watched as he turned to leave, his gaze on yours the entire time until his back faced you. Marvelling at his form as he walked away, he took one more glance back before rounding the corner and you wondered how someone could be so expressive with only one eye. And yet even the smallest glance could send a spark through you like no other. That, combined with his words, was the greatest pleasure you had known.
Even the way he walked away served to stir you so. The way his long legs carried his strides and the way he commanded his space with his form, such confidence at face value and yet so often, in your shared language, he had said that it was not always this way. He had learned the cold stare of feigned confidence through the many years he spent hiding himself away, learning to use his words as his weapon and training his body to be his deadliest.
Who would think that a man like this could be so gracious in the presence of a woman.
Of you.
Hurriedly, you half-ran back to your chambers, letting out a deep breath at being alone and able to let out your thoughts on the man. The book he had gifted you was placed lovingly on your bed as a maid softly knocked at your door. All you could do was face the mirror and uncontrollably smile as she loosened the ties of your dress, pulling the gown off your shoulders to pool at your feet.
"You seem in good spirits, my lady" she remarked, preparing the other dress to be worn at the feast. You could tell that when she said it, she was smiling, "Would the Prince have anything to do with that?"
In the mirror you met her gaze very briefly and shrugged, her hm in response seemed to satisfy her question. Without pressing any further, she draped the dress at your feet and once stepped inside pulled the heavy garment up your body to fasten at your front. This maid was quick about her work and laced it effortlessly at the front and at the back, using metal ones at the front that were coated with gold to compliment the deep forest colour of the gown.
Once the skirts were smoothed down, you observed your figure in the mirror. It was quite possibly the only thing you wore which truly fit you and it was here you felt you looked truly beautiful, for the first time maybe ever. All the small gold fastening attached at the front reminded you of the endless times you had seen Queen Alicent with her seven-pointed star accessories, and you thought she had looked beautiful then.
One your hair was styled the way you preferred, not overly braided, the maid stepped back to admire her own work.
"Beautiful, my lady"
You nod your head in thanks as she takes her leave.
You yourself look on your silhouette and shake slightly. To be his betrothed is one thing, but to be his wife. To tame the blood of the dragon. You felt underequipped for the task at hand.
But you had already conquered him. You just did not know it yet.
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You had been seated at the table for some time with one of your older brothers before people started to file into the hall. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had been in this room but it had been so altered for the feast that it was unrecognisable. There was a long table in the middle of the room with a red tablecloth and many candles decorating the middle, their flames barely flickering the room was so quiet.
Glancing over to your brother, he had his head in his hand, probably severely hungover. His eyes were closed so tightly that you thought that he might be in pain, and you half thought to ask him if he was alright but decided against it. For he had not spoken a single word to you in the weeks your family had been guests to King Viserys and Lady Alicent.
With a sigh you smooth your hands over your gown and clasp your hands together, sending a glare over to your brother who whispered shut up at your sigh.
You could not even make sound in front of your family. The kindness served to you by Aemond had made you realise how badly they treated you. Especially your father.
The echoes of fast footsteps broke you from your trance and you looked over at the entrance to see you older sister, arms hurriedly beside her in her half-run and a fierce stare tracking the room.
Her daggered eyes landed upon you, finger pointed in your direction.
"You!" the words came from her like a stab.
Her fierce look had you on your feet, a questioning look on your face as your sister made for you across the room, your eldest brother not far behind in his own half-run. The other drunken brother furrowed his brows in curiosity and all time seemed to slow as your sister threw all her weight into her palm to strike you across the face.
You could barely register the pain in your face until you looked back into your sister's hateful eyes which is when the pain started to bloom across your cheek and jaw. More shocked than anything right now, you raised your hand to your now burning face to touch, it was not sore yet but it certainly would be. Your sister looked unnaturally angry, so much so that the lines around her mouth were now visible and she was shaking. Her eyes were scrunched up with her expression, mouth hanging open slightly to say something.
"You fucking whore" she spat at you, her hand came to your bare arm to twist the skin there and you let out a cry at the pain. But she would not let go and seemed to dig her fingernails into you even further, even at the sudden presence of your eldest brother and entrance of your father.
"What is the meaning of this!" your father's voice boomed but your sister never took her eyes off you. Afraid that if she would, you would escape her tight grip.
"How did you do it, hm?" she asked, eye boring into you, "The Prince could not have fallen for an idiot like you…"
Your mouth formed into a flat line in an attempt to deflect her unkind words, pushing the brewing tears back, but an ever-present feeling was there also. Anger.
"Let her go, sister" Your eldest brother was at her side, hand hooked under her arm to pull her away. Not one look from him was given to you.
Your father was not far behind, his booming voice aching for his daughter to release her hold on you, noting the arrival of Queen Alicent into the hall, who looked shocked at the whole situation.
"What did you do then, fuck him?" she snapped and you could feel your anger bubble inside of you. Mouth open ready to say something, the familiar block stopped you, but your sister was so close, so you thought to opt for a whisper if nothing else. You could no just stand idly by while she disrespected you. That is something you had learnt from him. In only the few weeks you had known him, he seemed to have taught you more than your family ever had.
"N-n.." you start, and a moment of surprise passes on your sister's face, but the anger remains, "…not all of us…h-have to…"
She seemed to mull over the words for a long time, fingernails pushing so hard into your skin you were sure there would be bruising and welts. And it was as if it was a language she had not know, you could see her bounce the words in her head. Or perhaps she had never bothered to hear for the sound of her sister's voice before.
It all came down on your sister so quickly and she let a sinister smile pass on her face at the understanding of your words.
"You dare take the Prince from me…" she cursed, her grip tightening like a vice once more around you and you closed your eyes once more to brace yourself for another strike.
"Care to tell me why your hands are on my betrothed?" a voice rang out loud and deep and your eyes popped open again to find Aemond at the doorway, hands ever clasped behind his back, his cold, hard stare at your sister.
Her head spun around with such speed, you thought it might pop off and her confused gaze met the Prince's, but it was not long before a sinister smile returned, her hands still on you.
"I am your betrothed" she returned.
Aemond turned his head so that he could face the sister straight on, nothing needed to be said, saying enough with his gaze entire. The room seemed deathly quiet as he took his few steps towards your sister, his eye never met yours, not even once. There was danger in the room and he felt he had to address it.
"Aemond…" Alicent muttered, trying to distract him. But it was no use. He was trained directly on your sister and you could feel her façade slip away by the second as she shrunk under his look.
"Release her" he ordered. When your sister did not move, he sent a hooded glare down at her, "Now"
It was clear your sister was too out of it to move, so your eldest brother pulled her towards him, with no resistance. Your groaned in pain as your sister's fingernails came from your skin, leaving red half-moon shaped marks on you. Aemond's hand was on your arm instantly, inspecting the damage your sister inflicted on you, his touch soft against the violence that had ensued before. His fingers traced the marks before allowing his eye to meet yours and then your cheek, seeing the way the skin was inflamed, red and no doubt sore.
It was difficult to gauge his emotion at this time. But all you knew it that he was angry.
Turning to your siblings and father, he took your arm softly to push you behind him, whispering to you softly.
"Gaomas ziry ōdrikagon?" Does it hurt? He asked.
You could not dignify him with a lie and simply replied quietly, "M-mirrī…" A little.
Aemond could not tolerate anyone laying a hand on you, and you seemed to understand this as he faced your family.
"What was that?" you father asked, wide-eyed and staring at you. Silence filled the room once more and your father shuffled embarrassed, "Answer me"
"She spoke" your sister said, "So it does speak"
Her laugh filled the room, that cackle that Aemond hated so much. The one that inspired him to cast her aside, now even more annoying.
"You mean to me that you can speak all this time?" your father says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "And then once in the company of the Prince, suddenly your idiocy is gone?"
"She is a whore" your sister seethes, but your father orders her to be quiet.
"I would suggest you use different words " Aemond warned, his voice low and protective in the face of your family.
The otherwise quiet Queen Alicent seemed to step forward, using her body to separate the two parties. For a long time, she had been the dividing force between families and had no issues stepping back into that responsibility now.
"That is enough" she said softly, her eyes forever on your father, "My Lord, no promises have been made regarding joining our houses"
All at once, the reality of the situation seemed to hit your father. His face changed from one scorned, angry and exhausted to something more hopeful.
"He is meant to be my husband!" your sister called out, eldest brother still holding onto her arm. She looked positively furious and with the opportunity would most certainly have broken free to wreak havoc once more.
"Be quiet" your father warned. Looking towards you, he jutted his jaw upwards, feeling as if suddenly he had the upper hand, "This marriage will still benefit us no doubt and you have done this family an unexpected favour, your Grace"
Alicent wasn't enjoying a moment of this and simply looked onwards, almost dissociated. Your father's tone seemed predatory, his gaze creeping back over to you and Aemond. Your fingers rested on his hand, delicately gripping him and thanking him for his support in this awkward situation.
Aemond cocked his head, knowing your father had more to say.
Stepping forward, your father dared to glower at the Prince.
"You have taken this halfwit from me, at last"
It was clear it was aimed to set Aemond off. And it had almost worked as the man before you went to take a step forward, only to be met with your hand on his chest. Confused, he looked down at you but you simply shook your head. His look was difficult to decipher as many had often said before you, but you refused to allow him to act how others perceived him, so with a soft hand on his chest you gently pushed him back to take your place before him. One hand slipped into his, you faced your father, who had a sick, satisfied smile on his face.
You could see his gaze waver slightly when you went to open your mouth.
He was the one you feared the backlash from the most. Mother, at least, had been somewhat patient and accepting until her death. But after that, it only served to turn your father bitter. If he would not be patient for his other children, there was little hope for yourself growing up with any form of endearment. What could be expected of such a man.
You felt the familiar slam of a block in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, squeezing Aemond's hand beside you. Grounding you. With a deep breath, you looked back up to your father. He would not interrupt you this time. He would not best you.
He could not have the last laugh this time.
"You…" the words came out forcefully, almost clumsy. But no block in sight, "…are no father…t-to me"
The room was deathly quiet and more than anything, everyone was just shocked. You watched your father's face carefully and saw the raw shock that was so clearly there and you hadn't realised just how tightly you had been holding onto Aemond's hand until he squeezed back, a very obvious proud look on his features.
You took a glance about the room once the silence had become uncomfortable, your siblings sharing their own form of shock in equal measure. A sudden feeling of self-consciousness overtook you and you looked over at Alicent and finally Aemond.
Alicent looked entirely neutral if not a little amused, but Aemond did not have to hide his amusement, his lips turned up into a very clear smirk as his eye looked down at you. You dared to send him a smile back, secretly proud of what you had done in the spur of the moment.
"I think it is time for you to leave, my Lord" Alicent said, cutting through the stony silence, "The King and I will send the terms for the marriage in the coming days"
The father looked wordlessly over at the Queen, now haggard and expressionless.
"I trust the matter is closed"
"Hm" was your father's only response. He gave you somewhat of a glare before turning his back, his own hand clamping around your sisters to drag her out of the room. Your brother's seemed to give Aemond a look before following also, the eldest dragging the middle by the cuff of his shirt.
You let out a breath and your shoulders dropped, now relieved of the pressure. Aemond squeezed your hand again,
"T-tolī o-o…olvie?" you ask. Too much?
He shakes his head with a chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "Daor, īles vok"
No, it was perfect.
 The weight of the burden your family was apparently very hefty, for as they arranged their hasty departure the next day it did not seem to bother you to see them off.
You would happily spend the afternoon sat beneath the Weirwood Tree, book softly placed in your lap. Aemond leaned against the tree behind you, reading over your shoulder as your eyes darted across the words scribbled on the page, fingers at the corner ready to turn with excitement.
Aemond smirked knowingly as his eye caught your family passing the gardens, the servants carrying their luggage. Your father leered over, a gaze that could kill settling upon the Prince, but the only thing that could occupy the space between you both was the sound of you reciting the book before you. The one he had given you as a present.
He sat by, watching every now and then as the line formed between your eyebrows at a particularly difficult word, taking staggered breaths to get the long ones through in a single utterance. And for a moment, watching you reciting the text, Aemond swore he saw the passing of regret pass over your father's features.
Your words seemed to be suited to Valyrian, Aemond so often thought, and even now as he listened to your words from the history book, he took a lock of hair between his fingers to play with the strands. A chill ran up your spine at his hand on your neck, pushing the hair away, the smooth skin hiding beneath now exposed to the cold air.
His hand remained at your nape as you finished the sentence.
"Rȳ z-zȳha…sȳrje…sk-skorkydoso gaomas…b-bisa pikībagon?..." How does this read? you pause to ask, a finger pointed at the page at an unknown symbol. Aemond sat up and leered over your shoulder at the spot,
"Valyria"
"Oh" you answer, now feeling stupid, but chuckling in response. You carried on, Aemond's chin now resting softly atop your shoulder.
"Valyria iksin se….ro-rovaja oktion isse se vys. Iemny ziry..."
"Lemnȳ" Aemond corrected, smiling.
You sigh and push the book closed to place beside you, looking up at Aemond's smug face, he was so close now that you could see the stitching of his eye-patch and a shuddered breath came from you at the hand that was still placed on your skin. His eye was once against hooded to look down at you, perhaps you would never get used to the feeling that gave you.
"Ao pikībagon sȳrī" You read well.
"e-emi mērī..sssepār rhēdan" We have only just started. You shake your head at his words.
"Nyke hae aōha elēni…" I like the sound of your voice, he trailed off and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliments. Truthfully, you loved the sound of his more. Especially when he spoke Valyrian. It being your shared language, there was a certain intimacy to it. And you found yourself wondering if he would speak it during…
Your sinful thoughts were cut off by his hand on your jaw, turning your face towards him. If he was close before, now he was even closer, and you held your breath and searched his eye for his intent. He was smiling down at you, finger softly dragging across your skin and it seemed like there was nothing more romantic than saying nothing at all in this moment. Eyes zoned in on him, you opened your mouth to say something, his name.
"Aem-"
His lips interrupted you and you could feel how his softness pressed against you, body heated instantly just purely with his touch. All that fire that burned in his blood, pumped around his body, to be pressed against you now; it burned so nicely that you smiled in his kiss. Allowing him to slip into your mouth as you smiled, the warmth enveloped the two of you and you hand was softly pressed to his chest, grasping the collar of his coat, perhaps in an effort to pull him closer. Aemond groaned with need, sending a vibration of desire that descended through you.
You had never felt so wanted in your life. And Gods, it felt so nice to be wanted, to be needed.
Time seemed to pass so slowly when he had you like this and the desire deepened more so when his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing further into you. A ghost of a moan left you which only seemed to spur him on more so, running swiftly out of breath.
"Aōha udra…" he broke away to whisper, forehead resting on yours, "…nyke jorrāelagon tolī"
You smiled, eyes closed and enveloped in his scent, his love. It was other-wordly.
Your words. I need more.
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 Taglist:  @candypurplebutterfly @vainillasmil157 @ysa-psa @angelaevangelion @bellaisasleep @random-human02 @guardian-of-the-imagination​
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just-aake · 5 months
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Thankful for You
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: You invite a mysterious red-haired stranger to join you for a Thanksgiving dinner. 
Warnings: light fluff, light angst
Words: 2547
Sitting alone on a bench in some park, Natasha looks up at the sky when the sound of thunder rumbles and echoes through the trees. 
Soon, she feels drops of water drip down her face as rain begins to pour all around her. She must have looked crazy to anybody who saw her, drenched from head to toe, just sitting alone in the park and staring stoically at the sky.
It didn’t matter though. There was no chance of anyone being around at this time anyway, given what day it was.
Thanksgiving Day 
A time when friends and family spend time with their loved ones and express gratitude for the good things in their lives. 
Natasha’s lips twitched slightly with a hint of amused resignation at the thought–the holiday defined everything that she didn’t have.
No friends – the mission in Budapest with Clint helped form a good teammate relationship, but even after other missions together, they have not reached the point where Natasha believes Clint has trusted her enough to be considered friends, and that sentiment is also returned by her.
No family – she was abandoned by her actual mother when she was a child, and as for her other temporary family, she has not tried to find any of them; though, she hoped Yelena was still alive and able to escape after Dreykov was killed.
No good thing in her life – she has been trained to be a killer her entire life, doing terrible things for others just to survive. She has always been a tool to be used. Now after recently joining Shield, she is still not sure if there will be any changes to her life that would ever be good.
There is nothing for her.
Natasha closes her eyes as she lets the rain hit her face, hoping that time will pass by quicker and end this dreadful day so that she can return to work and go on missions again. 
Suddenly, the consistent sound of rainfall is interrupted by a small splash in the distance, which Natasha already deduced as a single person’s footsteps.
With her eyes still closed, Natasha’s brow twitches slightly when she realizes that the steps are coming closer to her position. However, judging based on the unhurried pace and sensing no malicious intent from them, Natasha ultimately decides there is no threat with this newcomer.
They are probably just another individual on their way to some Thanksgiving party or dinner.
Natasha is about to return to her previous mindless thoughts when the footsteps suddenly stop.
In front of her
Natasha frowns when she no longer feels the cold touch of rain falling on her. Opening her eyes in confusion, the first thing she sees is the underside of an umbrella hovering above her head. 
Following the stem of the umbrella down to the hand holding it, her eyes eventually meet yours. 
Standing in front of her, you give her a small smile as you hold the umbrella above the two of you, shielding both of you from the rain.
Natasha glances down at your other hand, which holds a couple of bags of what looks like drinks and snacks.
When she returns her gaze to yours with a questioning look, your smile turns sheepish, unaffected by the intimidating glint Natasha has in her expression.
“This might be weird and a bit forward,” you start before nodding your head in a particular direction, “but would you like to come back to my apartment to dry off and wait out the rain there?” you offer her gently.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
In the hallway of your apartment building, Natasha stands with her arms folded, closely observing you as you fumble to find your keys. 
She is still unsure about why she accepted your offer. 
Maybe it was a curiosity to understand the kind of person you are—whether genuinely generous and kind or perhaps just naive and clueless. 
Or worse, you might just be offering help only to boost your own ego and feel superior; she’s met enough of those kinds of people during her brief time at Shield already.
Seeing you continue to struggle with the bags, umbrella, and keys in your hands, Natasha wordlessly extends her hand toward you in a silent offer. 
You pause at the gesture, your mouth opening slightly in surprise.
“Thanks,” you say softly, accepting her offer of help.
Natasha raises an eyebrow curiously when you only hand her some of the bags, not all, just enough relief for you to find the key and open the door of your apartment.
Walking into the apartment, you leave the door open almost as if it were an invitation to her, with no pressure to accept. 
She could just walk away and leave now, forgetting that she ever met you.
Again, Natasha doesn’t know why she decides to enter. 
However, maybe this time, it is partially due to the fact that she is still holding some of your bags from earlier.
Once she closes the door behind her, your voice calls her from the kitchen, and when she comes closer,  she sees that you are already in the process of sorting your items into their appropriate area. 
Glancing up at her approach, you ask her casually.
“So what’s your name?”
In response, Natasha presses her lips in a thin line, deciding on how much she should share with you, given her new 'clean slate.'
At her hesitance, you give her an amused smile.
“You know, it doesn’t have to be your real name. I just need something to call you instead of saying, ‘Have a seat, stranger’,” you tease lightly.
Understanding your point, Natasha contemplates for a second before settling on a safe option.
“Call me Nat.”
You repeat the name a couple of times softly under your breath before nodding your head satisfied and giving her a welcoming smile. 
“I’m Y/n.”
“Y/n…?” Natasha trails off in question for your last name, her instincts automatically activated to obtain as much information as possible.
You chuckle amusedly at her, going over to her to grab the bags from her hands. Turning around, you make your way back to your kitchen.  
“You never gave me yours,” you point out over your shoulder.
Natasha’s eyes widen slightly, impressed at your deflection. So, you are not completely naive. She decides to initiate another conversation to learn more.
“You know, it’s pretty reckless to invite a stranger into your home,” Natasha points out as she examines your living space. It was a small apartment but comfortable for one person to live in. She can spot your personal touches throughout the area, making it feel cozy and warm.
“It’s pretty reckless to follow a stranger to their home too,” you quip back at her. “What if I was a serial killer?”
Natasha huffs in disbelief, shaking her head and crossing her arms. 
“I don’t think so.”
You shrug casually as you take the remaining items out of the bag. 
“You’re right. I don’t think I even have the strength to take somebody down.” 
Finally finished with putting away your things, you lean back against your kitchen table, crossing your arms in a similar position as her.
“You, however, definitely look like you know how to fight,” you state plainly.
Natasha frowns skeptically at your wording, her defenses raising slightly in preparation.
Seeing her expression change defensively, you relax your posture and gesture to her body in explanation. 
“Your wet clothes are sticking to your skin, and I can see your muscles and abs from here.” 
Examining herself, Natasha can see what you mean. Her light clothes clinging to her skin reveal the contours of her toned body clearly.
Natasha returns her attention to you when you snap your fingers. 
“That reminds me. I need to get you some dry clothes. Wait here,” you tell her.
Before Natasha can respond, you leave through another door that she assumes is your bedroom. 
Natasha remains in her position, staring at where you left in confusion as she tries to figure you out. 
You’re not evil or dangerous–she is certain about that. You’re also not completely clueless and blindly trusting. 
And you are honest but careful. She recognizes the subtle hints of caution with your actions and words, but you don’t overtly show distrust towards her. 
You give off the impression of making an effort to maintain a welcoming atmosphere with her, but Natasha can sense that this isn’t a familiar territory for you.
It feels like a door attempting to close, yet a small invisible force is working to keep it open.
She is brought out of her thoughts when you return to the room and stand in front of her.
“Here you go,” you offer some clothes to her and then point to another door behind her. “Bathroom’s right there, and there should already be some towels that you can use to dry yourself off in there.”
You tilt your head curiously when she doesn’t move. 
“Thanks,” Natasha finally whispers before taking the clothes, her hand touching yours lightly. That brief touch left a lingering warmth in her hand as she headed to the bathroom. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Upon leaving the bathroom, Natasha is greeted by the beeping of the fire alarm and the sight of you standing on a chair, fervently waving a towel at the smoke alarm.
You don’t notice her presence when she quietly joins you in the kitchen, too focused on your task of silencing the annoying beeping sound. 
Standing on your tiptoes to reach the smoke alarm button, the chair beneath you wobbles as you shift your balance. After finally pressing the button, you exclaim softly in victory, but the chair wobbles again, causing you to lose your balance.
Instinctively, your hands reach out for the back of the chair or table to stop your descent, but to your surprise, instead of cold furniture, you feel a warm touch. 
Natasha gently holds your arms in a supportive grip, steadying you back on your feet. 
“Be careful,” she cautions lightly.
When you don’t respond and just stare at her in surprise, she raises a questioning brow at you.
Shaking your head lightly to snap out of your thoughts, you give her a small, appreciative smile.
“Thanks,” you tell her before turning to look at the pot on the stove and then back to her with a sheepish expression.
“I hope you like slightly burnt mac n cheese.”
The two of you sit across each other in silence as you both eat the dinner that you made.
Natasha eats slowly, glancing at you whenever you are not looking in observation. The food tasted normal, nothing special, but for some reason, every bite she took made her feel this warmth inside.
Eventually, you break the silence with a question to her.
“So, Nat, you had any Thanksgiving plans?”
“No.”
You nod your head in understanding. 
“Yeah, me too. I didn’t even plan on making anything tonight, but I thought maybe I could make you a small Thanksgiving meal. Luckily, I found some of these mac n cheese boxes in the cabinet. But if you are still hungry, there are also some chips and cookies that you can snack on.”
Natasha’s lips quirked up slightly, amused at your rambling.
Your eyes widen at the sight before pointing out happily.
“Oh! You smiled. I was hoping to cheer you up, even if just a little.”
Natasha furrows her brows curiously at your words, giving you a questioning look at what you meant.
“Why did you invite me here, Y/n?” Natasha asks.
You sit back against your chair at the question, already expecting it eventually. Playing with the bottle in your hand and spinning it on its edge in a random pattern for a moment, you finally let out a deep breath.
“To be honest, I saw you earlier today when I left. Then again, on my way home. You had the same sad expression during both times,” you admit softly before raising the bottle to your lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, saying, “I guess, something about the way you looked reminded me of myself.”
Natasha watches you take a sip as she tries to understand the meaning of your words.
Seeing her confused expression, your smile turns downward slightly as you explain.
“My parents passed away on Thanksgiving.”
You wave away her concerned gaze reassuringly.
“It happened long ago. There was a car accident on the way to a Thanksgiving gathering. I was upset at something stupid at the time like most teenagers do, so I didn’t go with them.”
You let out a regretful breath at the memory, a brief lingering sadness in your eyes before shaking your head and giving her a rueful smile.
“Typically, when this day comes around, I get too depressed to be around anyone, but when I saw you, I had a sudden thought.”
You lean forward, placing your hands on the table, and raise your eyebrows at her as you explain.
“On the day when people gather together to be happy and thankful, I thought why don’t the two sad souls also try coming together?” 
At Natasha's doubtful expression, you continue your explanation.
“Maybe there’s a chance we can cheer each other up, even temporarily, and if we can’t, then we can always just be sad together.”
Natasha stares at you with wide eyes, astonished at your words. You are even more intriguing than she thought.
You give her a small smile at her reaction, turning one of your hands upward in an open invitation to her.
“What do you think, Nat? Do you feel a little bit better or should I just bring out the entire case of beer for the remainder of tonight?”
Staring at your open palm offered to her, Natasha notices the same lack of pressure to accept as before. 
That’s when Natasha realizes something.
For the first time in a long while, in an unfamiliar apartment, wearing clothes that weren’t her own, and eating a slightly burnt meal prepared for her, Natasha was experiencing an unexpected sense of comfort and warmth, relieving her of the previous emotions that had weighed on her before. 
All thanks to you.
And as she expected, when Natasha places her hand atop yours, she feels your warmth spreading to her through your touch.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
The next morning, as you enter the living room, you are not surprised to find the empty couch, with neatly folded blankets and your clothes on the cushions – no signs of yesterday's guest.
Turning around to prepare for the day, you notice a small note on your kitchen table and, upon reading it, you smile gently.
Sorry, I left without a goodbye. I had to leave early. I wanted to let you know, compared to my original plan for this holiday, I’m glad I spent it with you. Maybe next time we meet, I can make you a meal that isn't as burnt as thanks. From one sad soul to another. – Natasha Romanoff
You say her real name out loud softly with a small smile, grateful that you took the chance to meet the mysterious stranger. Anticipation builds as you look forward to the next opportunity to see her again.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: Thanks for reading! I am still working on Boundless Devotion. I just got a little busy lately. Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!
766 notes · View notes
sunny44 · 9 days
Text
I got you
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x GF!reader
Warnings: autoimmune disease, sadness and maybe more.
Summary: Y/n has an autoimmune disease and struggles to do normal everyday things and gets frustrated at not being able to, but Charles makes a point of reminding her that she is strong and that he will always be there for her.
I want to say right from the start that if anyone has an autoimmune disease or any kind of disease and feels upset or hurt in any way, let me know and I'll delete the story immediately. I wrote it because a few days ago I saw a video of Selena Gomes going through this situation and a guy who was with her said these words to her, I thought it was so beautiful the way he made her feel good and not frustrated about having a disease she didn't choose to have, and so I thought it was a nice idea to do something like this, so that if someone is going through something similar to remember you that you’re strong and brave.
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And again I felt a wave of frustration and embarrassment welling up inside me as I once again failed to open the jar of pickles. It was just a small everyday gesture, but for me, it was yet another painful reminder of my struggle with an autoimmune disease.
“This is so embarrassing,” I murmured, feeling the weight of helplessness.
But before I could sink myself completely into the feeling of failure, Charles intervened, his gentle voice cutting through the tense air around us.
“That’s not embarrassing.” he said, his expression kind as he reached for the jar of pickles. “You got the disease because you can handle it, that’s why they gave it to you.”
I looked at him, surprised by his comforting words. I had never thought of it that way before.
To me, my condition was a source of frustration and sadness, but Charles was offering a new perspective, a view of strength and resilience that I had never considered.
“You’re right.” I murmured, a faint smile forming on my lips as he effortlessly opened the jar.
“You’re strong enough to handle it.” he affirmed, his eyes meeting with mine reassuring intensity.
Charles' words echoed in my mind as I reflected on my journey with the autoimmune disease.
I had faced challenges and obstacles that often seemed insurmountable, but I always found a way to keep moving forward, to fight another day.
I thought about the moments when I felt weak and vulnerable, when the disease left me unable to do the things that I loved. But I also remembered the countless times I found strength, when I refused to let the disease define who I am.
With a sigh, I turned my attention back to Charles, feeling grateful to have him by my side. He was way more than just the love of my life; he was my support, my rock in times of storm.
“Thank you, babe.” I said softly, my voice filled with gratitude.
He smiled at me, his eyes shining with warmth and understanding.
“Whenever you need help, I'll be here for you. You're not alone in this journey, Y/n.”
It was a simple promise, but it meant the world to me. I knew I could count on Charles to be here for me, no matter what.
Together, we continued our afternoon, sharing laughter and deep conversations as we faced the challenges of everyday life. And although my journey with the autoimmune disease was full of ups and downs, I knew that with Charles by my side, I could face anything.
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Bonus scene!
Charlesleclerc instagram stories
“Just a quick reminder that your strong and beautiful, and that I’m here for you always.” Tagged: @yourusername
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236 notes · View notes
thef1diary · 9 months
Text
A Buzzing Date | P. Gasly
Summary: it's Valentine's Day and Pierre takes you out on a date, but he also gives you a little gift to make the night more enjoyable-mainly for him.
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Warnings: 18+, use of a vibrator, kind of public, orgasm denial/delay, Pierre loves to tease, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, slight choking, idiots in love
Pairing: pierre x fem!reader
Word count: 4.1k
It's Valentine's Day and this year, you have a boyfriend to celebrate it with. This is your first Valentine's Day together, considering you met him in March of last year.
You could say that you're a sappy romantic person because of the gift you've given him today. You thought it through, and started preparing for it months ago. A jar was filled with paper hearts, that you created yourself after searching up videos on how to make origami paper hearts. Before you turned the strips of paper into the shape you wanted, you wrote a reason why you loved Pierre on it.
There were a hundred hearts in the jar. It's safe to say that Pierre wanted to open them all at once when you gave it to him, but you convinced him otherwise. But he did open one after negotiations.
You waited for his reaction, and when he laughed after reading it, you were slightly confused because you didn't remember a reason you wrote that was something funny. Well, you would remember it if you weren't drinking wine while writing the reasons. "Is that so? I'm honoured, ma belle" he said and turned the paper around to show you.
The paper read, "you're beyond amazing in bed and I love your dick"
Your cheeks turned red in embarrassment, out of all the hearts he could've chosen, it had to be that one. "Does it make a difference if I say that I was drunk when I wrote that?" You asked as he embraced you, placing his head in the crook of your neck. "Drunk words are sober thoughts. There must be some truth to it?" He mumbled, placing a light kiss on your neck.
"Maybe but I expected this moment to be romantic."
"Oh but it is, romantic in a sexy way. I love this so much, baby, thank you." He lifted his head and claimed your lips with his to expression his gratitude. Before the kiss could turn into something more heated, you parted away from him.
"I have to get dressed because you're taking me out on a date, remember?" You told him, but instead of a frown that you'd normally get, he agreed with you. "Of course. That reminds me, I have a gift for you." He walked away while you stood there in confusion.
He quickly returned with a gift bag in hand, "it's not as romantic as yours, but I hope you like it." You looked inside the bag and taking out the contents.
It was a dress. A beautiful backless wine red coloured long dress with a high slit on one side. You remembered this one very well, it was a dress you looked at when you two were in Milan a month ago, but didn't end up buying. "Pierre" you said as you held up the dress in front of you, then making eye contact with him. "You remembered." You briefly kissed him on the lips.
"There's something else in the bag, ma chérie" he told you, and you looked in the bag once again. There was a box of some sort, all wrapped up. You could tell that he put in the effort of wrapping the gift.
Unwrapping it, you couldn't tell what it was until you opened the box. Then, when you saw it, your eyes widened. It was a vibrator.
You looked at Pierre who had a growing smirk on his face, and raised his eyebrows in question to know your opinion. "Very thoughtful, baby. Is this for the nights that I'm alone?" You teased the idea of using this device without Pierre.
"Not really. I get to control it with my phone" he stepped closer towards you, placing his hands on your hips. He brought his mouth closer to your ear and whispered, "wear the dress and put this in you for our date tonight." He instructed, and you almost moaned at the thought of it. The excitement was clear in your eyes, and he smiled at you. "You want to?" He still asked you if you were comfortable with his idea or not and you nodded eagerly.
Then, while you took a shower, Pierre was getting dressed. Then, you asked for some privacy when you were getting ready, not because you were uncomfortable in his presence, it was because you knew if you took out the toy again, both of you would end up in bed instead of the restaurant.
Pierre was on his phone when you were on your way down the stairs, but the sound of your heels made him snap his head up to look at you. He imagined you in that dress before he bought it, but that image was long forgotten as soon as he saw you in that dress. He looked at you, from the top to bottom, taking his time. Then he whistled which made you laugh at his antics.
While he looked at you, you took the time to check him out too. He wore a suit, the white dress shirt contrasting his tanned skin. He left a couple buttons undone, letting you see a hint of his bare chest, and the chain that proudly hung around his neck.
He held his hand out for you bringing you closer and placing his hands on your hips, "words cannot do justice to how beautiful you look." He commented which made you blush profusely. Your own hands travelled up to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. "I'm supposed to be the sappy romantic." You spoke but he could only focus on the way your lips moved, coated with lipstick that was the same shade of your dress.
He pulled you closer, so now your bodies were touching, "is my other gift in use too?" He asked as his hands trailed down your back until it was resting on your ass. You nodded, "yes it is."
You were very aware of the vibrator that was in your pussy and also resting perfectly against your clit. "Good girl" he pecked your lips once before holding your hand and leading you outside.
During the car ride, Pierre tested the new device and based on your reactions to the lowest setting, he knew that tonight would be enjoyable. You were already turned on before you were even at the restaurant so when he turned it off after a moment, you pouted. "Don't pout, that was just the beginning." He kissed your cheek briefly then turned back to focus on driving.
Pierre made reservations beforehand, and he held your hand as you two were led to your table. As you were reading the menu, you almost jolted when you felt the vibrations again. Eyeing Pierre, you saw how his cheeky smirk was back but he didn't look at you, he was just reading his menu.
This time, the vibrations didn't turn off, he kept it on. Even if it was at the lowest setting, you could feel yourself getting hotter because it was pressing against your clit as you were seated. Now, you were squirming in your seat.
A few moments later, a waiter had introduced themself and asked for your order. Pierre was acting casual, as if he wasn't holding the control of your vibrator in his hand. "And what about you, ma chérie?" Pierre asked you after he placed his order, even the waiter was looking at you in expectation.
Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you felt the intensity of the vibrations increase, making you grab on to the edge of the table to compose yourself. You looked at the menu to avoid eye contact with the waiter, and also to buy some time to find the right words. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, finally muttering out your choice of food for tonight.
The waiter didn't notice your squirming or if he did, he didn't say anything. Politely nodding, he walked away. In an instant, you glared at Pierre, "why did I agree to this?" You asked to no one in particular.
"Because you love me. And you are enjoying this as much as I am, don't lie."
"I-" you interrupted yourself with a low moan that escaped your mouth. Pierre's eyes darkened, "quiet. You don't want the others to hear do you?" He asked but all you could do was focus on the pleasure. "Or maybe you do. You want them to know that there's a vibrator in your pussy right now, in the middle of a dinner date." He spoke, and to others it might seem like he was just making normal conversation but only you knew of the filth he was saying. You couldn't help but moan at his words. He knew very well how much his words affected you.
"Pierre" you muttered his name, but didn't know what you wanted to ask, didn't know if you wanted him to turn it off or make you cum in public.
He fiddled with the settings on the app, increasing the intensity again. You cursed, and he smiled in satisfaction. You were almost sweating now, and the grip on the table turned your knuckles white. You happened to catch the attention of the people sitting on the next table, a woman was concerned. "excuse me, are you okay? You seem a little pale."
You looked at her and gave her your best nod, and Pierre filled a glass of water for you, "here, maybe this will help" he said, knowing well that it wouldn't help. She still looked at you in concern and you knew you had to speak to her, "not feeling too great but I'll be okay."
She nodded and returned to her own conversation with the person in front of her, not looking at you again. Pierre took your hands in his, "it's not enough to make you cum is it?" He asked but he already knew the answer. You shook your head, silently pleading to make you cum. "Work for it." He stated.
Soon, the waiter arrived with food, and you hoped that it would distract you from the vibrations on your sensitive clit. It didn't work. Throughout the dinner, he would play with the intensity, notching it up and down constantly, almost making you choke on the food.
"I thought you're supposed to be nice" you told him once he turned the vibrator off right when you were about to cum. "I never said I would be." He replied, and you knew that this was the time to take control, well as best as you can. "But Pierre, my love, I've been so good to you. I can't wait to go home and show you just how much I love your cock." You reiterated the note he opened earlier.
"I'm sure you will, but we have time for that. Unless you want to skip dessert?"
"Please, take me home." You couldn't help but beg. You've understood that he wouldn't let you cum right now, so might as well go home.
He asked for the bill once you were done eating, listening to you and skipping dessert. But, what you didn't expect was the vibrator setting to be turned up to the max, making you tremble in pleasure as the waiter was standing right by your table. Pierre took his sweet time to take his card out of his wallet, and deciding on a tip.
You were waiting for him to stop the buzzing and ruin another orgasm that was building up but that never happened. Before you could prepare yourself, you were sent over the edge. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your mouth, but at least you were glad that the waiter was walking away and didn't witness that.
You took deep breaths to compose yourself but it didn't help that the buzzing remained on, even after you orgasmed. You were sensitive, but you wanted more. Because of the build up all this time, you weren't satisfied with one orgasm. You looked at Pierre who was standing up and holding out a hand for you. In his other hand, he held his phone and lessened the intensity, which annoyed you as much as it helped you compose yourself.
You took his hand, and helped yourself up. You legs shaking immediately making you lean against him. "I hope you're not tired, because that was just the beginning. Plus I do have to reward you for being so good." He kissed your forehead and decided to turn the vibrator off. He wasn't that mean.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes at him, but a smile quickly made its way on your face too, because you enjoyed that as much as he did.
The car ride was brutal. Pierre didn't let up on playing with the controls on his phone, making you squirm around in the seat. You threatened him that next time, as pay back, you will suck him off while he drives. But that didn't really work because he wasn't opposed to it. However, you knew that if you actually did, he would not be as cocky as he is now.
Once you finally reached home, Pierre was quick to walk over to your side and open the door for you. You got out but your legs were shaking, making Pierre chuckle. You glared at him, but it didn't last long because he carried you to the front door.
Once you two were inside, you made your way to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water for your sudden dry throat. Pierre follows you closely, watching as your bare leg peeks out beneath your dress due to the high slit.
He leans against the other side of the counter, watching your throat bob as you gulp down the cold water. You're staring at him with an intense look in your eyes and he questions it. "What's wrong, ma chérie?" He asks as if he isn't the cause of the wetness between your legs.
You turned around to place the empty glass in the sink when you felt his presence right behind you. You felt his hot breath against your neck as he placed his hands on your waist.
Pierre was brushing his fingers up and down your dress as if to feel the soft material. "You like your gift?" He asked, turning you around in his grasp. You nodded, not being able to formulate words that would suffice.
"Why so quiet now? I thought you were going to show me how much you love my cock when we got home." He restated your words from the restaurant.
This caused your cheeks to redden. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his lean body underneath his shirt. "Off." You instructed after finding your words.
He obliged, taking off his shirt and throwing it somewhere across the room. You placed your lips on his, savouring the taste of the wine he enjoyed with dinner.
His hands were searching for the zipper on the side of your dress since it was backless. Once he did, he instantly unzipped it, parting from you to watch how the dress easily slipped off your body.
He groaned at the sight. You decided to wear one of your new lingerie sets, because it matched perfectly with the dress he gifted. The lace barely covered anything, a flimsy thin material. One thing you didn't think about before wearing this set, was how soaked you'd be. The panties were damp, stuck to your skin and your wetness was evident.
You placed your lips on his collarbone, equally sucking and kissing. You made your way down his body, lowering yourself to you knees.
You paused, looking up at him while biting your lip. He was quick to release your lip, pulling it down using his thumb. You were planning on staying true to your words, unbuttoning his pants but he had other ideas. "I changed my mind. Come up here and let me take care of you"
He held your hands and placed them on his shoulder as his hands caressed your soft skin. "You look so pretty. So ready to be fucked, right?" He spoke, causing a moan to escape your mouth.
He placed a brief kiss on your lips before stepping away from you. "Do a twirl, let me see all of you" he instructed, and you stood still for a moment before registering his words. Turning around as he wanted, you showed yourself off to him.
"Oh baby, this set is amazing, can't wait to take it off you." He pulled the waistband of your panties outwards just to release it and snap it back.
You brought your hands up to his hair while his were resting against your ass. "You know something," you began, "I thought of you when I bought them."
"Yeah?" A smirk adorned his face. "You knew I'd love it, you know me so well." He pressed his lips against yours and you deepened it. You were a sucker for his kisses.
Between the kisses, he lifted you up and placed you on the countertop. He wrapped your legs around him while he further deepened the kiss, then pressing his lips across your neck.
Once he was satisfied, he moved away but you held him close by using your legs. He laid you flat on the countertop, pressing small, barely there kisses down your body.
Then, he got to the waistband of your panties and saw the wet patch on the cloth. His eyes instantly darkened when he saw the protruding shape of the vibrator held in place by your panties. "Fuck baby this is so hot. You want me to turn it on again?" He looked at you intensely, and just for a moment you were about to give in.
You shook your head, "I want you, Pierre." You reached out for him but he was just out of your grasp.
He didn't reply, instead he removed your panties which made the cool air hit your pussy, making you gasp. You were now just realizing how wet you were, and Pierre was on a similar train of thought.
He looked at the vibrator sitting right on your clit and inside your hole. Bringing his hand down, he spread your pussy. You brought your line of sight to his face and saw how his tongue was slightly poking out between his lips.
"Pierre" you moaned his name, wanting him to do something. And he did. He took out the vibrator from your pussy, and replaced it with his fingers. Moving at a faster pace. You couldn't help stop the sounds that left your mouth. You would try to be quiet, but you knew that he loved your noises.
Slowing down, he took his fingers back out and you were about to complain before you realized what he was doing. He spread your wetness around further, brought his face closer to your pussy and dropped a string of spit from his mouth right on your clit.
You arched your back, feeling it slide down before his fingers spread it around. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he brought it closer to your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. You complied, doing as you were told.
"We skipped out on dessert, but I think this makes up for it no?" He smirked, asking a rhetorical question.
You released his fingers from your mouth and he lifted your thighs to place on his shoulder. You could feel his hot breath on your pussy and he also blew some air which made you squirm.
He liked the reactions he was getting out of you, knowing that you were a lot more sensitive due to your first orgasm with the vibrator. Pierre presses a few filthy open-mouthed kisses along your folds before licking a bold stripe from your hole to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.
The stark contrast from his hot mouth on your pussy and the cool sensation from the marble made you a moaning mess. You were already close to the edge when he fingered you, and now eating you out like it was his last meal, you didn't know if you handle it any longer.
Your eyes were closed due to the overwhelming pleasure that you didn't realize his fingers were also probing at your opening. Your eyes snap open at the intrusion that you needed. Pierre knew every inch of your body that you didn't have to tell him what you needed.
Pierre moved his fingers at a hard and fast pace, causing you to hear the squelching sounds mixed with your moans sends you over the edge as you begged him for a release. "Pierre, please, right there, oh fuck"
Continuing to drag his fingers inside of you as you ride out your climax, pressing chaste kisses to your clit. Then you felt too empty when he removed his fingers. You watched him as he sucked his fingers clean and smirking at your blissed out state. "Better than any dessert from outside." He commented, making you blush.
His praise also caused the heat to grow between your legs as if you didn't just have your second orgasm for the night. Looking at the noticeable bulge in his pants, you brought the heels of your feet to the edge of the countertop, spreading your legs wider in invitation.
Biting your lip, you locked eyes with him who already began removing his pants. "Merde, you got me so hard" he groaned as he palmed himself over his boxers. You slipped your hand between your legs and circled your clit as you watched Pierre. "Look at you, so desperate. I just made you cum and you still want more."
Your eyes rolled back at his words, loving the filth coming out of his mouth. "Please fuck me Pierre" you begged. "Don't have to ask twice," he comments while his eyes are transfixed on your hand playing with your pussy. His boxer briefs are gone in a second and his hard cock is the only thing you focus on as everything else becomes blurry.
God, you were obsessed with him.
He stepped closer, you could feel his tip resting against the opening of your pussy but he wouldn't move further. Then, he's sliding in, and it knocks the breath out of you. You're at a loss of words when his cock is filling you up perfectly.
While he's thrusting, he brought a hand to wrap around your throat. Pierre groans at the sight of your eyes rolling back again, "I won't last long, you're so perfect. So tight, taking all of me so good" he was muttering under his breath.
"I love your cock, Pierre" you groaned out loud and he chuckled, "I know baby, I know."
He began picking up the speed of his thrusts, going at a brutal pace. You brought yourself up on your elbows so you could kiss him, swallowing each other's moans.
You parted when his tip hits that sweet spot, making your third orgasm of the night rip through you. Your pussy was squeezing him tightly, making him lose control. Your sensitive walls were still being put through in pleasurable torture as he kept thrusting in you to reach his orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum" he stated, "give it to me baby, please, I want it so bad." You cried out in pleasure, tears sliding down your face.
That seemed to do it for him, groaning as he thrusted once more before stilling. He comes with a deep groan and you can feel his cum filling you up.
You are thoroughly exhausted, noticing that Pierre seemed to be tired out too. The only sounds were of both of you breathing deeply. He pulled out of you, making you hiss at the emptiness.
He helped you sit up and wrapped his hands around your waist. Pierre placed a kiss on your forehead then peppered kisses all over your face, making you chuckle.
"We need to use that more often." He said, talking about the vibrator. You pretended to think before saying, "but you're such a tease."
"And you love that." He pecked your lips.
"Yes I do. And I love you"
"More than my cock?" He laughed and you playfully hit his chest.
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sashimiyas · 12 days
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you didn’t mean to buy so many groceries. your favorite snack happened to be on sale. and it’s paycheck day so the novelty notebook you’d been eyeing for the past month finally was worth splurging on.
“let me hold it for ya,” osamu says when you hitch the overflowing paper bag up to press it closer to your chest with both arms.
also in the condiment aisle, right next to the fruit spreads, was actually your neighbor, osamu.
you consider, glancing to his right hand that has a single knob of ginger for some marinade he’s prepared for the night and the quickly think against it.
“i’ve got it.”
catching him at the konbini at the corner of your apartments is no surprise. you’d crossed paths many times. it’s a watering hole, an intermediary through the routines of your days what with the way the clerk greets you both by name.
it’s only this time, when osamu finds out that you’re headed home just like he, does he insist you walk together.
osamu’s no harmful neighbor. in fact, he’s one of your more favorable ones even if he does have a tendency to slam his doors and cabinets a little too loudly. he’s also knocked on your door to check in on you when you accidentally left your key in the lock. and one time, when he heard wind that you were sick, most likely from the same konbini clerk from earlier, he dropped off a flavorless soup “chock full of nutrients” according to him. if you noticed that the cabinets within his home slammed less during the days of your recovery, that could attributed to the brain fog of your sickness feeding any sort of delusions it could find.
your delusions are no picky eater, feeding off of whatever meager crumbs it can. so really, the walk home together is enough.
osamu truly is no harmful neighbor. but, you’re finding out, he is quite insistent.
“gimme that.”
osamu all but plucks the bag from your arms. he lifts it up with one hand and places the contents of his plastic bag right on top. it’s almost comical how he handles it so easily with a single grip when it took all your strength to carry the bag home.
“hey!” you’re already reaching for it back but osamu twists at the waist and uses his free hand to push you away.
“just say thank ya.”
he doesn’t stop in his step, ignoring you and keeping pace back to the apartment complex. it’s clear in his demeanor that he has no plans in giving you back your bag. so you relinquish by running back to his side and falling into step with him.
it feels too much like losing so you just mumble, “thank you.”
the man beside you doesn’t acknowledge your gratitude. he only walks forward and so do you. you’re keen on avoiding his gaze and have no intention of filling the silence, only focused on placing one foot in front of the next.
if you had looked up, you would have noticed osamu’s eyes locked on your hand, the one besides his. you’d probably have recognized that gaze, a quiet and thoughtful kind, the one he has when he watches a new customer try the food he’s made. you’d have prompted him to speak because, despite his uninhibited mouth, he leaves many things unsaid.
you would have noticed the way his hand drifted towards yours, the pinch in his eyebrow as he contemplated his actions and the hesitation in his fingers as he reached out for you, and the solid shake of his head as he threw it all out the window and winded his fingers with yours.
you jump. of course you do. but osamu’s holds you steady in his grip.
and when you look at him, his expression is just as genuine as his words.
“your hand was empty.”
and that’s all it really took.
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sukibenders · 9 months
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comfort and care
FEATURING: percy jackson x reader
summary: for the past few days, you've been noticing a change in percy's demeanor as of late. from the bags gathering under his eyes from lack of sleep to his more irritable nature, everything had screamed "wrong" to you. in your attempts to find some resolve, you set out to find ways to tend to his needs.
contents: sad!percy, poor boy is struggling (specifics aren't mentioned) and needs comfort, fluff, angst, mentions of lack of personal care (such as poor sleep and struggling emotional health), percy not being kind to himself (dismissing his feelings), concerned!reader, cute couple moments, reader takes care of percy, mentions of cooking but can easily be ignored or altered if you can't cook, percy calling you babe, i hope percy doesn't seem ooc in this.
note" thank you so much to everyone who showed support to my first percy x reader, as that really warmed my heart. this one came to mind when i thought about how little x reader imagines there are that involve percy receiving comfort and felt like our boy needed someone to be able to vent to. ergo, this came to be. hope you enjoy!
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You first noticed it during one of your weekly Iris Messaging calls with Percy, a familiar routine the two of you had come up with when you both had to leave camp to return to your respective household during the school season. It had helped ease the long-distance separation, considering demigods weren't allowed electronic devices such as phones with the risk of drawing the attention of monsters, and allowed for you both to speak for hours and hours without worrying about racking up on a phone bill. It was a bonus that it allowed you to see one another, especially now.
While it was evident that Percy was attempting to hide any signs of fatigue, you had known him well enough to see past the feeble attempts and hesitantly brought the issue forward. "You look tired," you had said, eyes scanning over his frame through the hazy messaging system. "When was the last time that you slept?"
At the question, Percy let out a soft laugh, waving his hand in dismissal. "C'mon, babe, let's not weigh down our talk with boring stuff like my sleep schedule. Wouldn't you like to focus on something more interesting?"
To which you retorted. "I would like focus on making sure that my boyfriend is doing okay, taking care of himself. That would interest me just fine."
The inky haired boy let out a small sound that rumbled in the back of his throat, taking in your words and the unwavering concern in your gaze. A part of him practically leaned towards you (or more so you image), wanting to seek you out for as much comfort as he could gain. But another, more darker part of him, had drew him to a halt and left his previous wants to plunder into nothing more than wants rather than needs.
"It's nothing, really." Lie. "I've just been stressed with school is all." Another lie, well, partially. "You know I'm not the sharpest tool in the box." He was attempting to be humorous, in hopes of drawing away your concern on to something else. It didn't work.
Your burrows narrowed in a way he'd only seen when you get protective over things that you care about, and being on the receiving end of that look made him wince. "Don't be so hard on yourself," you said with a stern tone. "Besides, I don't like it when people insult my boyfriend. He's a genius in his own ways."
"Even when it's me?"
"Especially when it's you." A part of you warmed slightly when you notice a glint of gratitude sparkle in the inky haired boy's eyes at your defense, even if it was from his own self. But, even with that, it did little to provide any solution to the dilemma at hand as Percy had used quick thinking to find a way of branching to a new subject that, before you knew it, left little room for you to return to your concerns before you both had to call it a night.
That didn't mean that this problem was over, nor would your attempts to fix it be hindered.
It would seem so that you weren't the only one to notice Percy's shift as most of your friends had noticed it too. From Annabeth, who was ready to report any of her findings discovered during the pairs talks with one another to you or other members of the Seven dropping casual hints of concern (Jason had mentioned that he noticed Percy's hands tremble whenever they would drag across his face, Leo had noted that his jokes---which were usually funny---had either fallen flat or gave a vibe of uneasiness, Hazel had commented on the way his smile no longer reached his eyes and so on). You had used your family phone to call Sally who at the time was nowhere near Percy, thankfully, and had nearly broken down to you over the phone about her worries. She had done the best she could, but she was only one person.
It didn't take you long to formulate a plan, all that was needed was a way of travel to the Jackson's residence. It was lucky for you that a certain son of Hades had been open to the idea of helping as he dropped you off via shadow travel in front of the apartment complex. After a thanks of gratitude, the di Angelo boy left with saying "Tell Percy that I hope he gets better" before disappearing into the shadows.
You had already informed Sally and Paul of your plan, and the two had readily abided by it by taking Estelle on a trip around the city, leaving you and Percy to have some alone time. By the time you had gotten to your destination, a sudden bundle of nerves had crept their way inside you as you waited for Percy to open the door. What if he didn't want you here? What if it only made him more upset? What if you being here simply did nothing at all?
All your thoughts were put on hold when the boy himself threw open the door, a look of surprise marking his features as he took you in, as if trying to determine whether you were really there or not.
"Surprise!" You had said with hopefully enthusiasm, a conscious smile painting your face as you waited for a response.
Instead of words, a pair of strong arms circled you and pulled you into a muscular chest, body molding around yours as two became one in a matter of seconds. "You're here." Percy mumbled, though more as a statement than surprise even though your sudden appearance was one for sure.
"Of course I am, babe." You smiled into his chest, rubbing your hands up and down his back in a way that you hoped would bleed all the love and comfort from your heart that you wished give.
It didn't take long for him to pull you in to the shelter of his apartment, and even less before the two of you reached his bedroom. You both had fallen on to his bed, laying side by side facing one another with a little distance to allow you to look into each other's eyes. It was moments like these were almost anything in the world could be happening, right outside the window even, and neither of you would care. All that would matter would be the warmth of your bodies pressed together, fingers interlocking in a complex hold that neither of you wanted to be freed from, and the mingling of your even breaths dancing with one another in the faintly lit room.
"I wished you told me that you were coming. I would've cleaned up a bit." Percy joked, waving a hand in the direction towards his mess of a room before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
You let out snort, raising your hand to card your fingers through his messy locs. A smile pulled on your lips at the soft mewl that emitted from your boyfriend before he ducked his face into your neck. "I don't mind, I think my happiness at seeing you might overpower some of my observation skills."
Percy hummed. "Maybe I'm in luck then." You could tell that he was attempting to divert the conversation again, already knowing the reason for your abrupt visit. And a part of you was almost inclined to do so, wrapped in the comfort of your lover's embrace, physically after weeks of Iris Messages that left you only wanting more. But this social visit wasn't for you. As much as you wanted to lounge around all day, hearing Percy rattle off details of his days away or a spiel of jokes that would be sure to make you laugh.
But now was not the time.
"Percy," You whisper softly after a moment, thumb rubbing against the junction where his neck met his shoulders. He shivered, whether at the movement or your voice as the question he had been awaiting. "I've known you for a long time, like you've known me, and I can tell when something is wrong. Just as you would for me. And you and I both know that something is wrong. You haven't been yourself lately."
Percy didn't speak. His face remained hidden in your neck.
"You don't have to tell me right now as I won't force you. But I just want you to know that I'm here, and so are the others...if you ever want or need..." you pause, your hand stopping in its movements down his spine when you felt his body tremble beside you. "Percy?"
Labored breathing turned into harsh, muffled sobs that shook your heart with each one. Percy's usually tall frame clung to you as he pressed his face further into your neck, if that was even possible, littering the skin with a river of tears. The more he tried to speak, as if believing he had to explain himself, the more his words were choked by the sobs. You simply held him closer, pulling his body further into yours and caressing him from his back to his neck to scalp and back again, whispering comforting phrase from one's of love to one's of reassurance.
"It's all right," you whispered as he shook, running your nose along his temple. "You've been holding this in for a long time and now it's time to let it out. I've got you."
You both stayed like that until Percy's tears had run dry, until his heavy sobs turned into weak hiccups until his body stopped shaking and his breathing evened into one accompanied by an eased sleep. His body fell lacks at your side, his breaths tickling your skin every now and again. The collar of your shirt was dampened from Percy's tears, but you paid it no mind as you carded your fingers through his hair, soothing him even in his sleep because it was what he needed. What he deserved.
A thought had popped into your head when you felt your stomach growl in attention, your hunger taking focus as you realized, after looking at the clock on the bedside, how much time had past since between your arrival and now. Raising to your feet, taking precautions not to wake the sleeping boy, you slipped out of the room and towards the kitchen. Sally had been kind enough to offer to cook something before leaving, but you had simply offered to make something instead and leave one less thing for her to worry about.
You were an hour or so into cooking, the scents floating into the air and clouding throughout the apartment, when you heard hurried footsteps making their way down the hall. Glancing over your shoulder you watched as Percy slid into the room, his appearance ruffled from sleep but his eyes wide and alert as they scanned the room, searching for something. Or someone, more like it, as they stopped when they landed on you.
It seems as if a weight had left his shoulders as they dropped, no longer tense, and he easily made his way towards you. You were in his arms in less than a second, his face pressed into your hair as he breathe in deeply. "I almost thought it was all a dream. You being here."
You hummed, smiling into his arm. "Glad that I'm not?"
"You have no idea." You stood like that for a few moments, occasionally rocking back and forth to keep blood flowing through your legs when Percy spoke again. "Thank you. Thank you for...for..."
But you shushed him, shaking your head as you met his eyes. No words needed to be said, and he understood. His gaze drifted over to the assemble littering the kitchen counter with a raised brow. "Anything that I can help with?"
"Think you can handle it?"
This caused him to snort. "Please, I was raised by the Sally Jackson, learning how to cook was a given." He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders confidently, moving closer the counter. "Now, chef, tell me what we're working with."
"Yes, chef!"
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vanillacreambunny · 2 months
Text
dottore x reader
genre: fluff
words: 604
warnings: none
notes: the cold weather inspired me to write this. Just something short and sweet. As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥
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One would assume you’d grown accustomed to the harsh Snezhnayan winters by now, and yet you find yourself woefully unprepared as you step out into the cold, which seeps beneath your layers and into your bones. Each breath burns your lungs, and by the time you reach your destination your hands and legs are numb, and your nose is running, snow dusting your shoulders and catching in your hair. 
Lord Pantalone, with that sickeningly sweet smile on his face, places a handkerchief in your hands as he passes you, exiting through the door you came through. He disappears before you can utter your gratitude, and the next moment, the Doctor himself is wrenching the handkerchief from your grasp, wiping your nose himself despite your protests, his expression unreadable. 
“I expect better of you,” he drawls, tossing the handkerchief into the fire crackling in the hearth; you watch it succumb to the heat of the flames, wondering how much Mora burns before you.  
The thought is fleeting, however, as you bask in their warmth, snowflakes melting on your wind-chapped cheeks. You slip your gloves off, shoving them into your pockets—not before Dottore gives a disappointed click of his tongue at the sight of the threadbare material, the palms worn, and the seams coming undone, his disapproval palpable. 
He takes your hands in his own, turning them over in silent scrutiny. “Good. You’re still of use to me. No signs of frostbite,” he hums, every brush of his fingers against your skin sending your heart rate higher. “Consider yourself lucky, though remember that your foolishness will catch up to you one day if you are not careful.” 
“Yes, my—” 
His hands close around yours, rubbing warmth into your fingers, and causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Heat rushes through your body from his touch, and all you can do is pray he believes your trembling is a result of the lingering cold—nothing more. You notice how large his hands are in comparison, his fingers rough and calloused after years of working with them, your eyes tracing the pale scars that run like rivers through the valleys of his knuckles. 
Goosebumps run up your arms and down your neck when he purses his lips and blows, so close to kissing the tips of your fingers. Your gaze flickers from his mouth to his masked face, and although you cannot see his eyes, you feel them on you. He smirks, giving you a glimpse of pointed teeth as he chuckles, low and infectious. You can’t help but smile in return, regarding him with a tilt of your head and a kind expression. 
“About time, assistant,” comes a gruff voice, the door slamming open with enough force to rattle the hinges.  
You pull your hand away, taking a step back and bumping into Dottore, or at least one of his many segments, his red eyes narrowed in your direction and hands on his hips. “You know I don’t take kindly to such insolence. Perhaps I should experiment on you today as punishment.” 
“Please,” Dottore scoffs. “You and I both know you wouldn’t dare. Besides, I can vouch for her tardiness, lest you forget your place.” 
The segment frowns, huffing in indignance, and turns around without a second glance. “Come along then. We’ve wasted enough time.”  
You nod, following after your master, but first, you turn to Dottore once more.   
“Thank you,” you whisper—your voice loud in the quiet of his study—before slipping out of his sight, that grin of his etched into your memory and keeping you warm the remainder of the day. 
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anonymouspuzzler · 11 months
Text
Haha Whoops Uh Oh! (UPDATED 6/11/23)
so this isn't the type of post I normally like to make, but! uh! hey! I just got ambushed by a HUGE tuition bill I wasn't expecting, and I'm out of options to pay it - they've already applied my scholarship and loans, I'm already working multiple jobs that are basically just barely paying for rent + groceries, and I only have enough on my credit card to pay for One of the three payments they're requiring, which only gets me through till July (with, again, no options that get me that amount of money by that time).
further full disclosure, this bill came at like, the worst possible time - they've given me four days to make at minimum the first payment (which, again, I can only do by maxing out my credit card), and on top of juggling multiple jobs I'm also in the middle of two classes, including one which involves upcoming travel (that is already paid for, thank god). Hence, me Scrambling a li'l bit!!
as such, I've set a new goal on my ko-fi!! it is, of course, HUGE, but genuinely any small amount people are able to contribute goes a huge way to giving me SOME way to pay it off. note that 3-coffee doodle requests are still A Thing, commissions are still a thing (if you have one active I'll be getting to them this & next week), and I'll be streaming wherever I can to pull together money that way - wherever it comes, any support is HUGE and I mean that.
UPDATE 6/11/23: I am updating the original post to remove the ko-fi link and yet you fine folks know: HOLY HECK, y'all managed to get my tuition dealt with. words truly cannot express my gratitude for that - I'm so, so, SO humbled and thankful for everyone who came out to get me out of a really rough situation.
in the slightest, smallest attempt to pay forward the kindness i've been shown, I'm gonna try and use this moment to direct y'alls attention to some other folks I know who could use some kindness! hardly comprehensive, in no particular order, just top-of-my-mind type type beat. (note that these are all folks' twitter handles - some of 'em are on tumblr too, but I figure best to direct you to where I know they are 100%!)
@/Pochiyaki is a friend & artist who's been trying to get out of a bad money situation a while, and could definitely use some love!
@/rudeboimonster is similarly a dear friend who's been struggling to find long-term work and housing, anything you got would help.
Or, considering supporting the work of a creative you love! A few I've been loving lately that I'd recommend:
@/cosmignon (Runaway Draikana webcoming, and other comics and illustration work)
@/SynthCharmVA (voicework & writing/show development)
@/Tonya_Song (music - including vocals, piano and composition - plus education and activism work)
@/jaypg_art (character design, visdev, and illustration)
@/littlegoodfrog (Matchmaker and other comics)
@/winonaparadise (Girls With Horns and other comics/illustration work)
@/derekmballard (comics, including the upcoming Cartoonshow graphic novel)
@/_PartyCoffin_ (Welcome Home, and just about every art form you can conceive of)
and of course, if you're not following & supporting my amazing partner @/hollowtones, who helped me through this tough situation in every possible way - well you ought to be!! a delight and talent in every imaginable way, and I'm only a little biased on that.
and above all else... THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!!!!
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madsnowstorm · 1 year
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take me home for christmas | j. seresin | part one
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please come home for christmas - charles brown
summary : jake wants to take you home to texas for christmas to meet his family.
warnings — series, 18+, fem!reader, established relationship, some angst, family dynamics (both healthy and not), mentions of therapy, no religious aspect to the holiday, dogs named after famous texans
notes — i've been on a soft boy!jake kick lately and was totally inspired by holiday traditions.
series masterlist
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Jake Seresin did not beg. Most of that was due to him almost always getting his way. Sometimes it was due to his southern charm, other times it was because he did not accept no as an answer. He would fight and argue and flirt his way to his desired outcome…but he did not beg. That is why he caught you off guard around the end of November. You were both cleaning the dishes after hosting Friendsgiving for all your friends that couldn’t make it back home for the holiday. You’d just handed him the last dish to dry when he cleared his throat. You tipped your head in curiosity.
“Would you consider going home with me for Christmas?” You froze. Jake had a huge family made up of his parents, four siblings and their partners, and a whole horde of nieces and nephews. You’d heard plenty of stories about all of their Seresin family traditions for the holidays. Jake would always get a certain nostalgic gleam in his bright green eyes whenever he talked about them. It stood in stark contrast to how you spent holidays growing up. 
You bounced back and forth between your parents and it almost always ended up with them trying to outdo one another. Snide remarks and rude questions about how the other parent was doing were the only holiday traditions you had. Once college came around you were thankful for choosing a school, and subsequently a career, on the other side of the country. It made avoiding holidays easier. In fact, you didn’t really start to enjoy holidays until you began dating Jake. 
The two of you actually met at a New Year’s Eve party and even that night he taught you to appreciate the bubbles of champagne and the sentiment of Auld Lang Syne and the fun surprise of a midnight kiss. On Valentine’s Day you didn’t go an hour without some sort of sickly sweet, yet adorable, token of affection. Your birthday was full of flowers and doting. The Fourth of July informed you about the importance of a perfect char from the grill and the best American beer. Even Friendsgiving, which you took part in for the first time earlier that evening, was full of warmth and spices and gratitude like you’d never experienced. (As well as the National Dog Show which you never watched before, but were thoroughly invested in by the end) But Christmas with family? It created a sense of dread deep in your stomach.
“Darlin’?” That’s when you noticed he was standing there, dishcloth thrown over his shoulder, eyes shadowed with concern. You looked down at your hands which were shoved under the soapy water. You quickly pulled them out of the, making sure to pull the stopper so the suds could drain. Jake handed you the dishcloth from his shoulder. You wiped your hands with the damp towel. “Did you hear me?” His tone was not accusatory, but kind.
“Yes.” You took a breath and then let out a slow exhale. At this point, you could tell he knew something was up, but was patiently letting you work through your thoughts and emotions. “I…Just let me finish cleaning this up.” At this point your need for control was taking over. Even though time and therapy stood between you and the pains and aches of your childhood, sometimes all it took was one word or moment to bring old feelings back. Cleaning was one of things you knew you could easily control. The routine of it helped center your mind. Jake knew this and instead of fighting you to help you finish he just nodded.
“Alright sweetheart. I’m going to take Nelson out for a quick walk and then lock up for the night. I won’t be gone long.” Nelson was his Irish Setter that had been named after Willie Nelson. As you got the cleaning caddy out from its spot underneath the kitchen sink you could hear him talking to Nelson about not barking his head off if he saw the neighbors cat.
You got to work on cleaning the kitchen. The first thing on your mental checklist was to wipe down the kitchen sink, making the stainless steel shine. Once the sink was done you moved onto the countertops. The brightness of the lemon scented multi purpose cleanser almost brought you back to the warm feelings you were having before thinking back on your childhood. After the countertops you made sure the stovetop was spotless. The last things you did were sweeping and running the Swiffer over the floor. You wanted to get the mop and its bucket out, but it was already getting late when you started. The back and forth motions gave you something to match your breathing to, which aided in calming you down as you thought about your boyfriend’s question.
Jake knew how you felt about holidays. Why would he ask you to go home with him? Except, you knew why he asked. He was so good at pushing you out of your comfort zone, while also offering you a safe place to land. It made trying new experiences easier. There were so many things in your life you’d convinced yourself you didn’t enjoy because of your parents. Your therapist brought this to your attention before you met Jake, but having him with you made you brave. Perhaps this time was no different.
You tucked the caddy back where it belonged once you were finished, washed your hands, and then took a moment to survey your work. It was gleaming, almost sparkling, and no one would even know there were twelve people packed in the house earlier that night. You smiled thinking over all of Jake’s Navy buddies and their partners scattered all around the house, turning off the light as memories filled your head. You’d been hesitant about that too, but you’d not had a better Thanksgiving.
“All done, sweetheart?” Jake asked as you walked into the living room. He was sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on his lap, Nelson napping at his feet. You weren’t sure when they’d gotten back from their walk. Time got away from you while in the kitchen. He looked so comfortable and so at ease with the world. You envied that.
“Mhmm.”  You nodded and sat on the other side of the couch. He closed his laptop, placed it on the coffee table, and opened his arms. You crawled into them and Jake pulled you closer, placing you on his lap. The room filled with your giggles and his low chuckles. “I think I’m ready to talk about it.”
“Alright. Let’s talk then.” Jake moved his fingers over your face, pushing your hair back. You didn’t think he was doing it on purpose, but it stoked a fire in you. Your boyfriend, who was so arrogant and brash, could be so sweet with you. “What do you think about coming to Texas with me for Christmas?” You took a moment, eyes roaming over his face, before answering.
“The thought of it makes me nervous.” Instead of interrupting you as you’d expected, he patiently waited for you to continue. “You know about how things were for me growing up.” Jake nodded, running his hands up and down your back. If he kept it up, you would soon be putty in his hands. “The idea of spending a holiday with your family makes those childhood feelings resurface.”
“Babe, I understand what you are saying and why those emotions are coming back to the surface, but I know in the deepest part of my heart that this would be a Christmas different from any you’ve experienced.” The sincerity in his voice wanted to make you melt.
“But what if your family doesn’t like me?” You’d yet to meet the Seresin clan. Plans had been made for Jake’s parents  to come and visit the previous summer, but due to an unexpected detachment for Jake, those plans were put on hold. You knew your question sounded so juvenile, but it was one of your biggest insecurities.
“They already love you.” It took all your will power to not roll your eyes at that.
“They don’t know me!” You didn’t count the occasional awkward conversations on speaker phone in Jake’s kitchen as you worked on dinner as knowing someone.
“I love you therefore they have no choice but to love you too.” His belief about it was sweet, but in your opinion completely unrealistic.
“That’s not how that works, J.” You countered with a laugh. 
“Please, love? I want you to know them and them to know you. I love you and I know they will too. You’ve told me about how things were for you growing up and how toxic the holiday’s could be. Let me, let us, show you that things can be different.”  He kissed your cheek, followed by your nose, and lastly your lips. Jake Seresin never begged, but he was begging now. You knew that meant he thought this trip was important.
“Okay, Jake. Take me home for Christmas.” Jake kissed you again, this kiss lasting longer than the previous. You moved your hands from his shoulders to the nape of his neck. Slowly, your fingers moved up into his hair, scraping your nails lightly against his scalp. He groaned, moving his lips from yours, over your jaw and down your neck. “You know where else you can take me?”
“Where is that, darlin’?” His accent was thicker than it was moments again.
“To bed.” He didn’t waste a moment, picking you up and yelling out to his Google home to turn off the living room light, all in the same breath. You both laughed as he tried to carefully make it to the stairs.
“Don’t let me fall!” You squealed as he started to climb them. 
“I would never.” The playful tone in his voice was gone. Instead he was now serious. The look in his eyes took your breath away. You’d never met a man like this; a man who could cause your heart to both go crazy and to stop without warning. Despite his constant need to be an arrogant asshole most of the time, you knew that mostly an act. The real Jake was the one who was currently holding you. The one who loved you and wanted to take you home to meet the family. The one that made being brave worth it. 
Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad this year.
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circinuus · 1 year
Text
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can you make dazai blush?
0.6k words. gn! reader
❥ inspired by this video, and here's my honest reaction; possibly ooc dazai
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dazai, who is eloquent in his words and smooth in his gestures; a ladies' man with looks that are easy in the eyes and a voice pleasant to the ear.
dazai, who eyes you curiously when you first step into the agency, wet behind the ears, timid at kunikida's instructions and atsushi's reassuring words.
dazai, who finds the way you stumble your words very endearing, who finds the way the apples of your cheeks heat in crimson adorable whenever he reaches for your hand and starts a soliloquy about how you're just like a beautiful flower.
dazai, who pauses before waving a woeful hand when you return his grasp with a more secure and worried squeeze after he gives you an offer on a lover's suicide. your silent worry and reprimand do not cease even with kunikida's and atsushi's notions that such is just how the agency is.
dazai, who started looking forward to going to the agency every morning, wondering what expression you'll make today. will you bashfully scrunch up your nose if he compliments how your eyes sparkle like the evening tsurumi river that failed to drown him? or how your hands are as soft as the petals of a foxglove? will your eyebrows crease in frazzled concern if he eats that poisonous shroom again?
dazai, who frowns and is against the idea of you going for a fieldwork near yokohama port—more than he expected he will be.
dazai, whose face freezes and tongue paralyzed when you stop him after work one evening, in your arms is a bouquet of fresh blue hydrangeas. "thank you for being such a good senior," you said with heartfelt gratitude. dazai thinks of the possibility of you mistaking him for kunikida, or yosano, or atsushi, or other people from the agency. the possibility is unlikely.
dazai, who usually brushes off or basks in compliments that come his way, but is now stuck in perplexed blinks when you told him about how kind he is, the white stray cat still cradled in his arms and occasionally licking his cheek.
dazai, who is a suave man—accepting honmei chocolates here and there with practiced ease—only to pause in a hesitant, surprised, expression when you hand him a store-packaged box of chocolates. a giri chocolate, he realizes, before covering everything with his usual fanfare and tease.
dazai, who couldn't pinpoint his small exhale is out of relief or disappointment.
dazai, who now doesn't know what to do with you because he is scared of catching feelings, and you catching feelings for him.
dazai, whose, for the first time in forever, mind got thrown off balance and blood rushing to his cheeks when you absent-mindedly drop an innocent comment before the day ends, your eyes still solemnly set on the reports you devoutly type out.
"i'm going to give my honmei chocolate and confess my love to you after work."
"eh?"
"are you free after work?"
"mm."
"be prepared then."
"okay."
"why is your face red?"
dazai, who now sits straight trails off a chuckle. his fingers subtly tighten on his complete suicide book as he raises it closer to his face.
"wasn't that basically a confession?"
and you, who are finally freed from the shackle of fatigued absentmindedness and gasp in morbid realization, face bursting to a million shades of rose.
"ah!"
"please forget i said that-"
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this is basically the sunshine x the flirt turned to a mess--because of genuine affection. fic writers, i beg you to consider this concept: a blushing and flustered dazai, a thread 🤡
♡ @ashthemadwriter
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nahoney22 · 9 months
Note
congrats on 3k! you deserve it! could I request the fluff prompt "what if I dreamed about kissing you?" with echo and/or wrecker? whichever you think fits this prompt the best! thank you!
3000 Prompt List Celebration
Echo X GN!Reader
word count: 1.3k
SFW
prompt:
“What if I dreamed about kissing you?”
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warnings: brief mentions of nightmares, mainly fluff. Mutual pining and gender neutral reader. First kiss.
authors note: sorry for the wait. Enjoy.
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As the days turned into weeks, your heart grew heavier as you watched Echo toss and turn in his restless sleep, tormented by yet another dream. Despite being cautioned by others to let him sleep through it, your deep concern for him made it impossible to stand idly by and think of what nightmares were plaguing his mind.
With courage, you approached his bunk and gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a tender, reassuring nudge. "Echo, darling, wake up," you whispered in a soothing tone. His eyes shot open, his breathing heavy and ragged, momentarily disoriented before realising he was safe in your presence.
He gazed up at you, slowly coming to the realisation that the nightmares had not transcended into reality. Instead, he was met with the comforting sight of your eyes, something he always found as a source of solace and understanding. "You okay?"
A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you nodded gently. "I could ask you the same question," you replied, stepping back slightly to allow him space to sit up from his bunk. "You've been having a lot of bad dreams lately."
Echo sighed, the gesture mirroring the weight of his troubles, as he rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. "It's been happening quite often," he admitted, vulnerability evident in his confession.
"Would you like to talk about it?" you offered, letting him know you were there to listen.
He considered your kind offer for a moment, appreciating the genuine concern in your eyes, but ultimately shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. Thanks for waking me, though," he expressed his gratitude, a hint of a smile forming on his lips, a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter.
Your feelings for Echo have evolved over time. What started as a casual friendship had formed into something more to you.
The way he looked at you, the care in his voice, and the unspoken moments of tenderness left you wondering if there might be something more between you. Though you didn’t want to overthink it, you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t look at anyone else the way he did with you.
"Would you like to come on a walk with me? It's quite a nice morning," you suggest, hoping the invitation will provide Echo with some much-needed fresh air and a brief respite from his troubles. Besides, there are no pressing duties for you and the Batch today. After all, you wanted a break from seeing Cid’s face regardless. So, it makes it the perfect opportunity for a leisurely stroll.
A soft smile graces Echo's pale lips as he stands up, grateful for the offer. "I'd like that. Let me freshen up first," he responds sheepishly, wiping away the sweat caused by his recent nightmare.
"No problem, I'll meet you outside."
As you turn to leave, an inexplicable urge prompts you to place your hand gently on his forearm. The air between you becomes still, the silence deepening as you both acknowledge the touch. Your eyes meet, and a moment of unspoken understanding passes between you. Flustered, you clear your throat and release your hold, hurrying away to spare yourself any potential embarrassment.
Once you are outside, the morning breeze envelops you, providing a soothing backdrop for your walk with Echo when he finally joins you. Side by side, you both seem to appreciate the peaceful quietude that surrounds you.
"You're right," Echo says after a few minutes, breaking the tranquility, "it really is nice today."
You steal a glance at him, observing as he closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath of the invigorating air. You can't help but just know that his recent nightmare has something to do from his past, something that still holds power over him.
"Company isn't so bad either," you respond a bit timidly, but the subtle smile that flickers on his lips reassures you.
"You're right about that, too," he remarks, tilting his head down playfully and offering a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. Your knees momentarily tremble under the weight of the innocent gesture, but you manage to maintain an outward appearance of composure, even though your insides were on fire.
As you both continue to walk together, the conversation takes a deeper turn, and Echo gently inquires about your own experiences with bad dreams. You slow down your pace to match his, appreciating his genuine curiosity and concern. “What do you dream of?”
"I suppose just random things," you begin cautiously, trying to find the right words to describe your occasional nightmares. "But when they are bad… I dream about the things that scare me the most. The unknown, losing the ones I care about, and sometimes, I dream of not being good enough."
Echo's expression softens, showing understanding and empathy, making you feel safe and heard.
"What about you?" you ask in turn, adopting the same gentle and compassionate tone.
Echo takes a moment, briefly glancing at the ground before meeting your gaze. "It's mostly memories from the past," he confesses, the weight of his emotions evident in his voice. "Things I wish I could change but can't."
You nod in understanding, recognising the pain he carries from his past. "I'm here for you, Echo," you assure him.
He seems to appreciate your comfort as he listens intently when you share a technique that helps you before going to sleep. "Do you want to know what I find helps before going to sleep?" you suggest, and Echo smiles, encouraging you to continue.
"I think of things I want to happen. Or, I think of things from my past that I love and just want to relive for a few hours," you explain with a fond smile.
He's a little skeptical but intrigued, asking, "Does it actually work?"
You shrug slightly, admitting, "Sometimes. Like last night, for example, I went to sleep thinking of the time you and I were hiding from Cid behind the bar to get out of work. It was only a small memory, but one I enjoyed."
As Echo chuckles, that cherished memory of hiding from Cid remains vivid in his mind. “What else do you dream of or attempt to dream about?”
You chuckle, half-jokingly, half-serious, "Well, cliché stuff like being rich and having a nice ship to fly around." You smile up at him. Then, you playfully prompt him to reveal what he might dream of if he were to use your tactic.
He contemplates for a moment before shrugging, seemingly uncertain. "Ah, I don't know."
"Come on," you urge with a gentle push to his arm, "there's gotta be something."
His next words catch you off guard, taking a moment to register. "What if I dreamed about kissing you?"
Your heart skips a beat as his words sink in. A wild rush of emotions floods through you, and the blush on your cheeks intensifies. How long had he wanted to do this? Was it just him teasing you? But as Echo takes a step closer to you, and you don’t step away at all and think the latter.
"Why just dream it?" you whisper, the words leaving your mouth without thinking. Your voice barely audible but carrying an unmistakable invitation.
Without hesitation, Echo places his warm hand on your cheek, his breath brushing gently against your face as he leans in to gauge your reaction. You don't pull away; instead, you lean into the touch, signaling your consent. His lips meet yours in a soft and tender kiss, leaving you pleasantly surprised by the depth of feeling behind it.
The kiss is short but sweet, lips moving gently in sync, and you can't deny the sparks that ignite within you. Echo proves to be an excellent kisser, just like you had imagined for a long while.
As you eventually pull away, you gaze into each other's eyes and he chuckles softly, smiling. “I think that’ll definitely give me some good dreams from now on.”
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Masterlist
Prompt List Works
Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd d @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @crystal076 @blustalker @by-the-primes s @the-bad-batch-baroness
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kidstemplatte · 5 months
Text
the greatest
summary: cardinal copia becomes a father.
warnings: brief mention of suicide || wc: 8.3k
notes: reader is terzo's wife. i recommend checking out my other works to learn more about the (now expanding) family! message at the end as per usual, enjoy <3
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“You’d be a good Papa.”
His niece’s kind words still echoed in his mind, even after nearly five years.
The Cardinal had wanted to become a father for quite some time now but wasn’t sure if he was fit for the job. He was a bit of a child, which could be considered a pro or a con; the upside being he was fun and pure-hearted, the downside that he could be a tad chaotic. 
When Copia was summoned to Sister Imperator’s office, he assumed it was because he had forgotten to turn off the stove again or left the sink running, habits from his youth he was yet to abandon even as a middle-aged man. Bracing himself for another lecture, the Cardinal took a deep breath in and out before knocking three times on the sturdy oak door.
“Come in.” A hoarse voice rang from within the room.
Copia gently pushed the door open and entered the lavish office. Sister Imperator’s office couldn’t differ anymore from the Cardinal’s, sporting a classy yet minimalistic aesthetic decked in shades of brown and black. Meanwhile, Copia’s office had “Copia” written all over it in big cartoonish block letters, thanks to the dozens of figurines and comic books lining the shelves, as well as other dorky memorabilia. Sister Imperator sat behind her meticulously organized desk, her clasped hands resting on the polished wood.
“Hello, Sister.” Copia greeted the woman formally, bowing his head as he took a seat in the plush chair across from hers.
“Cardinal.” She returned the greeting with a brief nod, before instantly diving into her reason for his summoning. “Do you recall, a few years back, when a Sister of the Austrian chapter took her own life?” she inquired.
Of course he did, how could he not? It was a tragic day, each chapter holding its own memorial ceremony for the young woman.
“Oh. Sì, I do.” Copia answered, saddened at the remembrance of the event. 
“Well, she had a son additionally, who had an absent father.” 
Been there. 
“They have done their best to take care of the boy since he was just a newborn- he’s resided in the church his whole life- but as he’s gotten older, they’ve decided it’s simply not fit for him to grow up without a permanent system of support.” She explained.
Copia suddenly became much more alert, his eyes widening and posture straightening. “You mean… a family?” 
“C, if you’re interested…”
Sister Imperator noticed a longing in her son’s eyes that she had not seen in a long time- not since he was but a child brimming with curiosity, a subtle glow that surfaced only when he wanted something deeply, most of the time, an answer- but this time- it was more than curiosity, it was yearning. “Now would be the time.”
“Yes.” The Cardinal blurted out. “Yes.”
“The adoption process is not easy- let alone raising a child. This is a massive responsibility. Are you sure you can handle this on top of a Cardinal’s duties?” She cautioned him.
“Yes, Mother.” He reiterated.
She froze.
“I want this more than anything.” He pleaded.
“I will notify them of your consideration.” She nodded.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. Grazie. Grazie.” The Cardinal repeated like a mantra, placing his hands together as he bowed his head in gratitude. 
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Gently shutting the door to your son’s room, you walked down the hall and into the living space, pleasantly surprised to see your brother-in-law sitting in a lounge chair across from the couch. “Hi, Copia! What a nice surprise.” You greeted him with a smile. “Sorry, I just put Vinnie to bed. Am I allowed to join, or is this a brother talk?” 
“Please, join us.” Copia gestured. “Is Violetta here?” he asked. 
“Oh, she’s in her room. She’s not feeling very well tonight.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that, let her know I said hello.” Copia responded.
“Will do. So, what is going on?” Terzo asked, reaching to the coffee table in front of him and pouring his brother a glass of wine.
Copia took a deep breath in and began. “Sister Imperator called me into her office today and gave me some news.”
“News that..?”
You elbowed Terzo in response to his impatience. “Let the man speak!”
“Eh, do you remember when a woman of the Austrian chapter, um… She took her own life?”
“Johanna?” You asked.
“You knew her?”
“Not too personally, but yes. I met her years back when I studied briefly in Innsbruck. She was a lovely woman.” You recalled, sadness beginning to tug at your heart. “Sorry, continue.” You dismissed yourself, knowing if you continued, there would surely be a few tears. 
“Oh, no, do not apologize. Please, continue, if you are comfortable.”
“Okay.” you sniffled, laughing nervously. “There’s not much else, it’s just- it was sad. My bad, go on.”
Your husband placed a loving hand over yours, a subtle way he reminded you that you were safe with him.
Copia nodded. “Well, she had a son, who has lived in the church his whole life. But, um, they are considering finding him a more traditional… family.” He explained.
“Here?” Terzo inquired.
“Si, ah… with me.”
“You are adopting him?” 
“If everything goes according to plan, yes.” He replied slightly hesitantly.
“You’re gonna be a dad, Copia!” You nearly cried, your face lighting up with joy.
He laughed, a smile grazing his face at the idea. “Ah, well, we don’t know for sure yet. The process is a bit difficult. I fear it won’t work out.”
“Copia, you can’t mourn the loss of something that’s just beginning!” You encouraged him.
“Do you think Sister Imperator would ever propose such a thing to someone she didn’t trust could do it?” pointed out Terzo.
“That is a good point,” Copia replied. “I just… even if it works out… what if I am not… good?” He rambled anxiously.
“Not good? Our kids can’t get enough of you.” Terzo reassured his brother.
The Cardinal smiled at the thought of his niece and nephew.
“So what do you know about him?” You asked eagerly.
“Well, ah, that’s actually all I know… And that he’s four years old.”
“Oh my gosh! He’s the same age as Vinnie! It was meant to be!” You gushed, excitedly waving your hands. “Copia. I think it’s gonna happen. I really, really do.”
“Thank you, Y/N.” He expressed his gratitude with a heartfelt smile.
“Mommy?” You heard a voice squeak in the distance.
Turning around in your spot on the couch, a small figure stood down the hallway.
“Hi, Vinnie. What’s wrong?” You asked, a gentle tone adorning your voice. “Excuse me, I’ll be back.” You told your brother-in-law and husband as you rose to your son’s aid.
“Copia.” Terzo addressed his brother, his voice suddenly earnest.
“Yes?”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
Pondering the question and recalling no particular incident, he shrugged.
“Exactly. You can do this,” stated Terzo, his words few yet meaningful, clearly touching the heart of his beloved half-brother.
“Thank you, Terzo.”
Terzo smiled, his eyes conveying a depth of sincerity. “I mean it, fratello.”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The Cardinal closed the door to his small abode and let out a hefty sigh. His expression softened a little as he caught sight of the large cage sitting on a table against the wall, inside containing two furry friends. Inside the enclosure stood a gray rat, once brown, perched on his hind feet and clutching onto the metal bars, eagerly waiting for his Papa’s return. 
“Ciao, Bean.” Copia cooed, opening the drawer below his cage and opening their bag of food. “I’m guessing your brother is…” Copia scanned his eyes around the cage, his suspicions confirmed once he noticed Pesto’s nose peeking out from a small wooden hideout. “Ah, did I wake you up, my Bestie Pestie? I apologize. Buon appetito, little ones.” He said, opening their cage and pouring their food as the little rodents scurried to their bowls.
That night, the Cardinal felt inclined to do something he hadn’t done in a long time. 
Overwhelmed with an immense sense of desperation, Copia prayed on his own in the solitude of his room. He knelt beside his bed, knees on the hardwood floor as he placed his hands together and shut his eyes tight, a soft sigh escaping his lips before he began his prayer.
“Tua empietà, so che è passato un po' di tempo. perdonami, ti prego, ma devo chiederti una cosa. per favore, satana, concedimi il dono della paternità, per favore. Farò qualsiasi cosa, viaggerò all'inferno e ritorno, per trasformare questo sogno in realtà. Prego che il ragazzo stia bene e al sicuro e trovi la sua nuova casa tra le mura del clero.”
And just as Copia was lying in bed, about to doze off, he opened his heavy eyes; and through the darkness of the room caught sight of a poster featuring a cat, reading “Hang in there, baby!”, a silly yet needed reminder for Copia to persevere.
He needed this. More than he had ever needed anything in his entire life. 
Little did he know, the boy needed him just as much.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Throughout the next few months, the adoption process was proven to be just as lengthy and overwhelming as it was described as, the heightened levels of anxiety meaning Copia frequently had trouble sleeping, finding himself spending late nights in the Clergy’s grand library. Basking in the comfort of a large plush chair a few feet from the crackling fireplace, Copia was nose-deep in a book entitled “Raising Your Children With Satan.” 
“Can’t sleep?” A voice said just a few feet from where the Cardinal sat in the plush armchair. Looking up, Copia was faced with his eldest brother, Primo.
“Primo! What are you-”
“I had a feeling you might be here.” The man reckoned. “I understand these are stressful times, but you need to get some rest, for Satan’s sake! You look exhausted!”
“Ay, but that’s why I can’t sleep! I just toss and turn in bed for hours and hours until I give up.” He complained, punctuating his sentence with a sigh.
“You know I have all sorts of remedies for that. Why did you not ask me?”
“I… I don’t know. I guess I felt like I was already asking too much of people.” The Cardinal admitted, sighing and setting his book down on the table beside him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’ve asked a single thing of me throughout this whole process.”
Copia opened his mouth to respond, but no retaliations were heard as he realized that Primo was, in fact, correct. As usual. “I suppose… that is true.”
“Indeed it is. But I want to let you know you can always ask anything of me, Copia. I am not a father, but you could say I’ve done my fair share of parenting.” He chuckled. “And beyond that, I’m your brother, I’m here for you no matter what the issue is. Even if I cannot relate fully.” He comforted Copia, reaching across and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you. I’m just… very scared.” The Cardinal admitted.
“Why is that?” questioned Primo.
“I have no idea what I’m doing. Parenting. I just… I have- no idea.”
Parenting?
Just outside the walls of the library, Violetta, unable to fall asleep, stood with her ear pressed against the door, her mouth agape as she began to piece together the fragments of the conversation. Her uncle, Copia, had been notably distant lately, and now, standing on the precipice of this revelation, she couldn't help but wonder if this- parenting- was the reason. Primo's laughter, warm and familiar, seeped through the walls, filling the air with a sense of camaraderie. 
"Nobody does, fratello. Do you know how scared Terzo was? He was at my door practically every other night, rambling to me because he was too concerned he would further stress (Y/N) with all his worries."
Violetta's heart fluttered with a mix of emotions. Thrilled by the news that her beloved uncle was going to be a father, she couldn't shake the twinge of hurt that accompanied the realization that she hadn't been enlightened of this information. Her young mind grappled with conflicting sentiments—elation for the impending addition to the family, yet a pang of longing for the connection she wished she had shared with Copia. As the weight of the revelation settled, tears began to well up in her eyes, her heart aching while she turned around and silently made her way back to her room.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
6 months had passed since Sister Imperator gave her son the news: There was a little boy in Innsbruck, Austria, who needed a permanent system of support. Or, in normal people terms, a family. And there Copia sat in the very same chair he did on that first day, anxiously leaning forward while Sister Imperator gave him an even better piece of news: he had found one.
“It’s official.” 
It was like time froze; the months of meetings and paperwork, and beyond that, years of longing, had all led up to this pivotal moment.
“I- we- it’s been finalized?” Copia exclaimed. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” 
Sister Imperator suddenly felt a surge in her heart, upon witnessing her son’s ecstatic reaction.
“Congratulations, Copia. You’re a father.”
Thank Satan Copia always kept a handkerchief in his pocket. 
“…C?”
“I know I was not a perfect mother. And, I…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I want to do better this time around as a grandmother. And a mother. You are my family, and I’ve been quiet about that. It is the biggest regret I’ve ever had. But you, Copia, are not a secret. You are my son.” She confessed, reaching across the desk to place her hand over Copia’s. “And I am proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I love you, Copia.”
“I love you too.”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Copia spent the next few weeks frantically preparing for the arrival of the new family member. His Cardinal’s suite he had resided in for years was now empty, as he was moving into a larger suite with an extra bedroom and bathroom. The man was beyond stressed- He didn’t know how to properly decorate a room for a child, let alone assemble the furniture. Copia was quite satisfied with the simple layout of his old room, with strikingly lavish decor consisting of a pull-out bed, lava lamp, and a cat poster that read, “Hang in there, Baby!” Yeah, he was definitely taking that. Unsure at first who to ask for help, the Cardinal realized the person best suited for the job was his dear sister-in-law.
“This is such a nice space!” You gawked, following him into the room that would soon belong to the young boy. “And it has such a nice view!” Walking to the window, you were astonished to see the room was just in view of the Clergy’s beautiful garden and somber forest behind it. “Okay, so I think since it’s a twin bed, it should go against this wall,” you suggested. "There’s gonna still be some space after assembling this stuff,” you gestured to the boxes lying against the wall, “but maybe we should leave some space so he can pick what he wants.”
“Okie dokie. Sounds good. Shall we get to work?” Copia prompted.
Your attempt to build the bed was short-lived, you and your brother-in-law soon cackling loudly at your evident lack of skills.
“Damn you, IKEA,” Copia chuckled, squinting at the fine print on the instruction manual.
“What’s going on in here?” You heard a familiar voice echo through the bare room, your husband walking inside and noticing you two were having some trouble with the task at hand.
“We’re just, ah... struggling a bit with this furniture.” Copia laughed, gesturing to the various pieces in front of him.
“I know just the ghoul who can assist,” Terzo replied.
“Oh, it’s fine, we can figure it out-”
“Nonsense! Omega!” Terzo clapped his hands, to which the ghoul quite literally appeared out of thin air. “Hello, Omega!” chimed Terzo, who loved nothing more than to torment the poor man.
“Hello, Papa. Copia. Y/N.” Omega greeted you.
“Would you be a dear and assemble this furniture for my dear brother?”
“It- it has instruc-“
“Yes, and so do you, silly ghoul!” Terzo said, reaching to pat the tall man on the back and holding his hand out towards the unassembled bedframe.
Omega sighed and chuckled, “Yes, Papa.”
“Thank you, Omega.” 
Suddenly, Terzo crept behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, your eyes widening in fear of his next words, though your face heated up at his contact. Your husband, though you loved him dearly, often had little-to-no filter regarding intimate matters, and his sudden affection warned you he was about to let something slip. “It feels like just yesterday we were making Omega set up the nursery…” He reminisced.
“Terzo, ‘we’ is you. I didn’t make him do anything.” You laughed.
“You know, maybe we’ll do the next one ourselves.” he suggested wickedly, completely ignoring the innocent bystanders in the room.
“The next one? No, sir.” You swatted his wandering hand.
“I’m going to put this drill through my ears.” You heard Omega mumble in the corner.
“So, Copia! Three weeks! That’s so soon!” You exclaimed. "We're gonna tell the kids tomorrow." You announced, grinning at the thought of their reactions.
"Oh boy. I wonder how they will react."
"They will be beyond thrilled." Terzo reassured Copia.
Through the window, the sky was fading into a hazy orange. “Papa, don’t you have a meeting soon?” Omega asked his boss, who was known for being just a tad forgetful.
“I appreciate your help, dear Omega, but the meeting is on Thursday.” He said assuredly, a satisfied smile on his face.
“Today is Thursday.”
“What- it is?” Terzo exclaimed, checking his watch, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he realized he had a mere minute to make it to his office. “Shit!” Terzo began dashing out of the room, then spun around on his heels as he realized he had forgotten something very important. Leaning towards you, your husband gave you your ritual-esque goodbye kiss, pecking you on the cheek before turning around once again and bolting off.
“If he can do it, so can you.” You laughed with your brother-in-law, beginning to assist Omega with his newly-assigned task.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Violetta couldn’t sleep. She figured there might be someone else who couldn’t either, someone she hadn’t spoken to in a while. Carefully tiptoeing through the dark hall and down the stairs, she made her way to the library with deliberate caution. Entering the library, she caught sight of Copia sitting in a cozy armchair, nose deep in a book, completely oblivious of her presence, as he had seemingly been for the past few months. His eyes darted up as he caught sight of his 10-year-old niece in her pajamas, standing by the entrance with her arms crossed. 
“Violetta!” He exclaimed, frantically shutting the book and setting it aside. “What are you doing up so late?” 
“I dunno. Sometimes I walk around at night when I can’t sleep. But, uh, I also thought you might be here.” His niece answered anxiously.
“Eh- Why do you think that?”
She shrugged, an awkward silence plaguing the room before Violetta broke the ice. “Is that a parenting book?” She asked, pointing to the book Copia had tossed aside.
“Uh…”  Clearly, it was a parenting book. It had the word “PARENTING” engraved on the spine in shiny gold lettering- there was no way for him to play it off. “Yes.” 
“Why are you reading a parenting book?” Before her uncle could respond, she immediately regretted asking, feeling uneasy about the question. It wasn't a lie, per se, but it felt dishonest considering she was well aware of the reason. “Actually… I’m sorry. I know why.” She confessed, looking at the ground, a sense of guilt flooding her heart.
Copia was dumbfounded. How did she find out? It’s not that he was upset she knew, he just didn’t understand how that came to be- he was positive Terzo didn’t tell her, nor the other brothers. Had he let something slip?
“How did you find out?” Copia asked.
“I… I heard a conversation you and Primo had in here. I’m sorry I listened. I didn’t tell anyone. I promise.” she confessed, her voice becoming shaky as her eyes remained glued to the ground. 
“Oh, Violetta, it’s okay.”
“…Okay.” She said, still feeling guilty.
“I'm sorry Violetta, you do not have to cry, it’s okay. I promise, it is. I didn’t want to keep anything secret from you, I was just scared that if things did not go as planned, it would disappoint you.” He reassured her, his voice gentle and caring.
“I didn’t disappoint you, right?” Violetta sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked him in the eyes once again.
“No, no, no- I would have done the same thing. In fact, I’m very impressed and honored that you kept it a secret. That is not easy.” He lovingly comforted her.
Violetta smiled. “Thanks.”
“I'm sorry I have not spent much time with you recently... I have been so busy. But he is almost here, after all this time.”
“He?”
“Ay, I really can’t keep my mouth shut, can I?” he laughed. “Well, I might as well tell you more since I’ve already begun…” he figured, patting the arm of the seat next to him.
Violetta smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes as she took a seat beside him. “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, my dear Violetta.” 
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Though Violetta unconventionally discovered her uncle’s secret, her brother’s reaction was a drastically different experience. You and Terzo called your son into the living room, to which he bolted in and looked up at you with his sparkling mismatched eyes. 
“Vinnie, do you want to hear something very exciting?” Terzo cheerfully asked his son, picking him up and placing him into his lap as he bounced his leg up and down, often one of the few ways to keep him from moving around on his own.
“Yes! Please! Please!” Vinnie begged, giggling.
“You have a cousin that’s going to be here very soon!” Terzo informed him.
“What?!” Vinnie gawked.
“Yes! Your Uncle Copi is going to adopt a boy who’s exactly your age!” You exclaimed, sitting beside them on the couch.
“Yay!!! What’s adopt?” Vinnie tilted his head.
“You know Violetta’s good friend Carmen?” You asked him.
“Yeah!” 
“Do you remember her two mommies?” 
“Yeah!”
“They adopted Carmen. She was born somewhere else but then she became their baby!” You continued.
“Oh, okay,” Vinnie responded. 
“And Uncle Copi is adopting a son from Austria!” You explained enthusiastically.
“With the koalas?”
Terzo chuckled. “You’re very close, Vinnie. That’s Australia.” He said, ruffling his son's hair.
“Oh, I get it. He’s in…”
“Austria.” You assisted him.
“He’s in Austria now and he’s gonna be here! And now Uncle Copia is going to be his Papa.” Vinnie processed.
“Sì!”
“Okay. Yay! When do I get to meet my new cousin?” Your son asked eagerly.
“Two weeks.” You replied.
“Two whole weeks?” Vinnie repeated as you had just informed him he would have to wait a millennium. “I thought you said soon!”
“I know, we’re all very excited.” Terzo added, amused by his son’s enthusiasm.
“I’m so excited! Yay, cousin!” The little boy started kicking his feet, a telltale sign that he needed to let some energy out. Vinnie was a little fireball, constantly moving. While Violetta grew up satisfied with playing in the comfort of her room, her brother was like a windup toy, exhibiting bursts of energy before inevitably crashing and needing to rest. “Can I go outside?” He asked, pointing at the door.
You and Terzo were familiar with Vinnie’s harmless need to release his energy and sought to embrace it rather than suppress it. Terzo chuckled, gently placing his son on the ground, walking over to the door and opening it. Vinnie wasted no time, darting through the doorway at lightning speed while you and Terzo laughed.
“He’s so adorable.” You observed your son, zooming around in circles around the grass like a little Tasmanian devil.
“I hope he never grows out of his spark.” Terzo chuckled.
“He won’t. Not as long as you’re his Papa.”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Soon, the long-awaited day arrived. Copia and Sister Imperator stood in anticipation by the doors of the entrance. Though he was incredibly fearful, he had been waiting for this day his entire life, he put on a brave face. He couldn’t let his nerves show. Not now. Who was he to be afraid when the poor boy was certainly terrified and confused beyond measure? It was Copia’s responsibility to ensure the boy felt safe and welcome in the Clergy; he couldn’t do that if he himself was displaying unease. The solemn moment was interrupted by a knock on the door, making Copia jolt in shock. His mother, noticing his panic, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft yet reassuring smile.
“In,” she gently instructed, the two breathing in, a ritual they often did when Copia was younger and feeling anxious, “And out.”
Copia exhaled his worries, letting them disappear into the air, smiling at his mother before opening the door and being faced with a social worker and a little boy. He had blonde hair, dusty freckles, and a pair of glimmering blue eyes, wearing a pair of blue headphones of sorts around his neck. His eyes spastically darted around, to the ground, to the door, to the sky, to the walls of the church, and for a brief moment, Copia. The poor boy was visibly petrified, having been through a lot of travel and confusion that was surely enough to rattle his young mind, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly.
“Hello, Augustus.” Copia greeted the boy. We’re very happy to have you here.”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The walk to the suite was silent, minus the sound of echoing footsteps in the grand hallway. “How are you, Augustus?” He broke the silence. 
The little boy held out a thumbs up. Copia decided to continue speaking, not necessarily looking for a response, but to lighten the air.
“I know you are from Austria. I myself have never been, but I want to go. Maybe one day you can take me. But first you'll have to get your pilot's license. That was a dream I once had: to be a pilot. But, alas, I am afraid of heights. And look! We are here!” he announced, gesturing to the door of their suite.
After a small tour of the new space, Copia finally led Augustus to his bedroom. “I apologize, it’s a little boring right now, but we will fix it up in no time. However you like.” He said, opening the door for Augustus. The room was fairly empty minus the essentials: a bed, dresser, nightstand, rug. Despite the room’s humble appearance, Augustus’s eyes lit up enlivened at the idea of having his own space. “You can either stay here, or we can look around more. Up to you.”
Augustus paused to think for a moment, then pointed to the door.
“Okie dokie, we can explore. Do you want to see the library?” Copia inquired.
His eyes lit up.
“Library?”
Yes! A word! Thank you, Satan! A choir of angels sang in Copia’s head as he celebrated this small yet mighty victory.
“Yes, we have a rather nice library! Would you like to go?” He questioned.
“Yes!” Augustus chirped.
Copia and Augustus exited the bedroom, walking through the living space and to the front door.
“Are you ready to go?” Copia asked.
Augustus seemed conflicted, his gaze drifting off to somewhere else in the room. “Is… is something-“ Copia, lost on what to do, awkwardly looked aside, until a bright blue object caught his eye- something he must have set aside during their tour. “Eh… Oh. You want your headphones?” He asked.
Augustus nodded, a small smile forming on his face. Copia walked to the counter and picked up the headphones, approaching Augustus once again. Crouching down to be at eye level with the little boy, he extended the headphones toward him. “Here you go, good sir!”
Augustus smiled appreciatively and took them into his hands.
“Where we are about to go is very quiet. But, of course, you can still wear them if you’d like.” the Cardinal consoled gently.
“Okay. Just in case.” Augustus replied, placing them around his neck.
“Just in case.” Copia reiterated. “Ready?”
“Okie dokie.” Augustus said, holding out a thumbs up.
Copia and Augustus walked through the halls of the abbey as the boy eyed his surroundings curiously, counting each brick on the wall as they passed through.
"This is our library," Copia declared as they entered the large doors, a sense of pride evident in his voice. Though the library was nearly ancient, he had played a large part in its organization. Augustus’s eyes twinkled with wonder as he stared in awe at the utopia surrounding him, lined wall-to-wall with books of all kinds.
“Very cool, right?”
Augusted smiled wide and nodded, looking up to meet eyes with Copia, which made his heart warm.
“Do you have a favorite book?” Copia asked Augustus.
“The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” he answered, nearly instantly.
Copia’s jaw dropped. One, because clearly this kid was a genius, two, because that was a book he held dear to his heart, and three, because that was the longest phrase he had uttered the whole day.
“Wow, that’s a big kid book. You must be a very smart boy. I happen to love that book, though I certainly wasn’t reading it at your age. Have you read the others?” he asked.
He tilted his head, not fully understanding Copia’s question.
“The story continues in other books.” He explained. 
“Really?” He asked, his eyes widening in excitement.
“Yes, it’s a series. And whaddya know…” Copia trailed his finger across the vast collection of books as he strolled along the shelves, until-
“They’re all right here!” exclaimed Copia, who had led them both to the fiction section of the library. 
Augustus’s head nearly exploded at this newly found information, a large smile spreading across his face.
“And there are movies.” Copia informed him.
The boy’s jaw dropped. “Movies?”
Oh, this was gonna be great.
In the middle of their lighthearted conversation appeared Secondo, in the mood for some refined literature. His facial expression molded into a soft smile as he observed Copia and the young boy discussing the classic novel.
Copia caught sight of his older brother in the corner of his eye. "Oh! Hello there!" He greeted his brother as he made his way towards them. "Augustus, this is your Uncle Secondo."
"Hello to you, Augustus. I'm Secondo. It is very nice to meet you.” Secondo said warmly, reaching out his much larger hand and shaking the boy's. “Nice, strong handshake. Good for you.” Secondo praised the boy with a smile. “And what is that book you are holding?”
Augustus, feeling shy, held up the book and pointed at the title engraved on the spine. 
“Wow, that’s a grown up book! It looks like we have a distinguished gentleman on our hands. Have you met your other zios yet?”
“Not quite yet. But I was planning on taking him to meet his cousins after he sees the garden.” Copia answered for Augustus, still a tad nervous.
“How fun! Well, I won’t bother you two any longer. Very nice to meet you, Augustus. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He said with a warm smile, waving and exiting the room.
“I like him.” Augustus commented.
“Secondo is great. Looks like this was a successful trip!” Copia exclaimed. 
“Are we going to the garden?” Augustus asked, placing the book in his backpack.
“Only if you want to.” Copia replied.
Augustus nodded.
“Okie dokie, off we go!”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Copia and Augustus paced outside in the grass, Augustus’s smile growing wider and wider as the two approached the Clergy's lavish garden.
“Do you like the outdoors?” Copia asked Augustus.
“Yes.” Augustus answered. “This is so cool!” He exclaimed, in awe of the wonderland in front of him, longing to get lost in its winding path. 
Among the vibrant colors of the flowers, an older man quietly tended to the garden, crouching in front of a bed of hydrangeas, an aura of wisdom and insight radiating from him. Hearing footsteps nearing on the gravel, he turned his head towards Copia and Augustus, giving them a soft wave. 
“Why hello, there. Very nice to meet you, you must be Augustus.” He spoke softly but warmly.
The boy nodded sheepishly, staring at the flowers in Primo’s hands.
“Augustus. That’s a good name. Better than good. Do you know what it means?”
Augustus looked up to meet Primo’s gaze, and shook his head.
“Great.” Primo revealed.
“Oh. Really?” Augustus asked.
“Indeed.” He nodded. “Do you have a favorite flower?” Primo stood up, Copia and Augustus beginning to follow him along the edge of the the flowing stream.
Augustus looked around the garden for a moment, contemplating which of the many flowers he preferred. “I like the sunflowers.” answered Augustus, pointing to the yellow flowers just a few feet away.
“So do I. They are a classic choice.” Primo agreed. “Sometimes I find myself in here not just to expand the garden, but to find peace in its stillness. It is very quiet out here, but there are many noises to be noticed. The sounds of the stream, birds chirping, sometimes pesky animals that want a snack.” He conversed.
Augustus gasped, his love of animals evident in his jovial reaction. “What kind of animals?” 
“Squirrels most often, but rabbits as well. You know who also likes animals?” Primo asked.
“Who?”
Primo pointed at Copia, who smiled fondly.
“I do, that is true.”
“Maybe one day you two will have a little pet.” Primo winked as Augustus looked up at Copia, his hands fidgeting with excitement.
The three continued their wholesome exchange as Primo taught Augustus all about the flowers and plants, curiosity brimming in his eyes. Copia observed Augustus’s interactions with his uncle, admiring the boy’s gentle and inquisitive nature that ignited a sense of youthfulness in his heart.
“Lovely to meet you, Augustus. You are what some would call an old soul. Maybe even wiser than me, even at my age.” Primo chuckled.
“Nice to meet you.” Augustus responded, finding comfort in Primo’s serenity and knowledge.
“Ay, the sun is already setting…” Primo remarked, the garden’s vibrant colors beginning to dull down as the sun prepared itself to rest.
“Ready to go inside and, if you’re ready, meet your cousins?” Copia asked Augustus, to which he nodded, holding out a thumbs up.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
As the Cardinal raised his hand to knock at the door of the suite you and Terzo shared, Augustus suddenly felt a surge of uncertainty, and without thinking, grabbed Copia’s hand.
Copia, shocked by the sudden contact, looked down at Augustus with concern in his eyes. 
“You okay?” He checked in on the boy.
Augustus nodded. “Nervous.”
“We don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to.”
“I do.” Augustus decided.
“Okay. We can take a deep breath and go inside. Okie dokie?” He comforted Augustus.
“Okie dokie.” Augustus repeated.
“In,”
The two of them inhaled in unison.
“And out.”
Phew.
“Ready?” Copia asked Augustus.
“Mhm.”
Copia stood up and knocked three times on the door of the large Papal suite, which nearly instantly swung open. In front of them stood a man with jet black hair in a black suit, face covered in white and black paint.  
Augustus tapped Copia on the shoulder, waving his hand for him to lean in. He abided, leaning down to hear whatever it was he had to say. Augustus cupped his hand over his mouth and stage whispered, “Is that Dracula?” 
Copia nearly cackled.
“No, that’s your Uncle Terzo.” The Cardinal chuckled.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Dracula?!” Terzo exclaimed. “You flatter me! I’m Terzo, it’s very nice to meet you.” Terzo greeted, holding out his gloved hand for the boy to shake.
“Hi. I’m Augustus.” the boy said, taking his hand and shaking it.
“Augustus! So nice to have you in our family. There are a few other people here who are excited to meet you.”
“Feeling up to it?” Copia asked. 
Augustus nodded. 
“Okie dokie. Your Aunt (Y/N) and cousin Vinnie are here as well. Your cousin Violetta will be back from school soon.” Copia told Augustus.
Just around the corner, you were eagerly listening; after hearing of Augustus’s agreement, you walked down the hall to your son’s room, where you found him pacing in circles.
“Is he here yet?” He asked before you even got the chance to inform him he had arrived.
“He’s here! Come say hi! But remember, he’s nervous, so be very sweet.” You reminded him.
“Okay!” Vinnie agreed as you took his hand and walked him to the living room. As you entered the room and caught sight of your nephew the for the first time, your heart nearly melted. He was utterly adorable, golden hair, rosy cheeks, and freckles dappling his face; he looked like a little cherub. You turned to look down at your son and were elated to see his face lit up.
You gently crouched to the ground to meet your nephew at eye-level, noticing his eyes darting away from your gaze.
“Hi, Augustus. I’m (Y/N). It’s so nice to meet you!” You said, softening your voice. “This is Vinnie, your cousin, who is so excited to meet you.” 
“If you couldn’t tell.” Terzo joked, gesturing to his son, filled to the brim with energy.
“Hi! I’m Vinnie!” The boy excitedly introduced himself.
“Alright, Augustus. I’ll be back very soon.” Copia said to Augustus. “Have fun, and if you need anything, just let your Uncle Terzo or Aunt (Y/N) know. And if you need me, you can also let them know, okie dokie?”
Augustus nodded. “Okie dokie.”
“Do you want to play?” Vinnie asked, to which Augustus nodded once again.
“Okay, let’s go!” Vinnie announced, leaving no room for a verbal response as he grabbed Augustus’s hand, fingers intertwining, and eagerly took off to his room.
Though Copia kept a smile on his face, it was evident he was overwhelmed, understandably.
“You’re doing great.” You consoled Copia, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, (Y/N). I greatly appreciate your help.” He expressed his gratitude.
“Of course, you don’t have to thank me.”
“He likes you, Copia,” Terzo observed.
“I hope so.”
“No, seriously, he likes you. It’s his first day here and he’s already holding your hand and clinging to your side. It’s precious.” You added in agreement.
“Sì, Copia, you have nothing to worry about,” Terzo reassured him.
“Thank you. And, uh, Terzo, can I borrow one of your ghouls? I have a little last-minute project for his room I’d love to get done.”
Meanwhile, just down the hall, Vinnie had dragged Augustus to his bedroom, animatedly explaining its contents, from his favorite toys scattered across the floor to the pictures on the wall.
“This is my room.” He announced. “And this is my bed and this is my rug. And this is my bookshelf and these are my books that my Mama and Papa read to me. Sometimes my sister. And these are my toys.”
Augustus listened patiently as Vinnie kept talking, admiring the contents of his room.
“Do you like it?” Vinnie asked once he was finished with his grand tour.
“I love it.”
“Yay, thanks! I like your headphones.” Vinnie complimented him. “Sometimes my Papa wears them when he listens to death music. Once he let me hear. Don’t tell my mom. Cause there’s bad words.”
Augustus giggled. “Can I draw?” he asked, unzipping his backpack.
“Sure,” Vinnie said as Augustus pulled out a box of crayons and a stack of paper, laying them on the ground for them to share. 
“Do you like to draw?” Augustus inquired, pulling a beige crayon out of the box
“I’m no good,” Vinnie answered.
“That’s okay.” Augustus pushed the crayons towards his cousin.
Hesitating at first, Vinnie reached into the box and pulled out a green crayon, beginning to scribble on a blank sheet of paper. The boys sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company until Vinnie caught sight of Augustus’s paper and noticed his artistry.
“That’s really good!” Vinnie complimented him.
“Thank you.” Augustus looked up, making eye contact with the raven-haired boy.
“I don’t even know what I have.” Vinnie laughed, looking at the chaos on his paper.
“Grass,” Augustus said, pointing at the drawing, covered in green scribbles. “You can make a house or animals or flowers or trees on top.”
“Oh. Good idea. House.”
"And then you can add people and make it a home," Augustus suggested.
The two went back to drawing in silence until a knock was heard, a girl standing in the doorway.
“Hi, Augustus!” she said. “I’m Violetta. How are you?”
Augustus held out a thumbs up, still concentrating on his paper.
“That’s good. Are you drawing? That’s cool.”
“Duh. He’s really good.” Vinnie told his sister, pointing at his cousin’s paper.
Violetta took a seat beside Augustus on the carpet, peering over at his drawing.
“Wow, that looks really good!” Violetta remarked, impressed by Augustus’ skills; on his paper was a drawing that appeared to be a self-portrait. “There’s a lot of space left. Any other ideas on what to add next?”
Augustus nodded.
“Well, I can’t wait to see!” Violetta said enthusiastically.
The boy smiled and looked up at Violetta, appreciative of her welcoming nature. As his eyes met her gaze, he noticed her black hair similar to her brother’s, as well as a dark red marking adorning the left side of her face. Anxious regarding Augustus’s staring, Violetta suddenly became self-conscious, looking away from the boy and fidgeting with her hands. She mentally prepared herself for a blunt comment, as she had faced many times before, especially from young children.
“I like it,” Augustus said sweetly, pointing to her face.
“Oh.” Violetta said, lost as to how she should respond, not expecting such a kind comment. “Thank you. I like your freckles.”
“Thank you,” Augustus replied with a smile, then went back to perfecting his masterpiece.
Violetta’s heart felt full. The kindness Augustus displayed towards her was unexpected, and caught her off-guard.
“I have homework to do, but it was nice meeting you, Augustus. I’m so excited that you’re my cousin.” She said farewell to Augustus, waving and exiting the room.
“Bye-bye, Violetta.” He said, waving his hand at the girl.
“My sister is cool,” Vinnie said. “She can also draw good.”
“Really?” Augustus said.
“Yeah. She’s awesome. Let’s play spies!” Vinnie declared, a sudden shift in topic, one that didn’t bother Augustus. “But we need something first.”
“What?” Augustus tilted his head.
“We need IDs,” Vinnie stated.
“You’re right! Spy IDs.” Augustus agreed.
“Can you draw them, though?” Vinnie asked, unsure of his abilities.
“Yeah!” 
“Alright, let’s do it!”
Augustus’s time spent with his cousin had clearly lightened his mood. By the time Copia had come to pick up Augustus, he was non-stop giggling with Vinnie, his expression soon resting in an adorable smile, dimples on display.
“Hi, Augustus. It looks like you had fun.” The Cardinal smiled, walking into Vinnie’s room.
“Yeah, I did.” Augustus cheerfully responded, looking Copia in the eyes.
“Ready to head back home and have something to eat?” 
“Yeah!”
After a fulfilling meal of spaghetti and meatballs- which Copia would have to make more often, the plate was empty in what seemed like a millisecond- Augustus was exhausted, but still enthusiastic upon discovering the surprise waiting for him.
“Wow!” Augustus said, standing in his room in front of the newly added bookshelf. “How did that happen so fast?”
“Magic,” Copia responded.
“Woah.” He said in awe, mouth agape as his ocean eyes glimmered.
“And now you can put your first book on it!”
“Oh!” Augustus exclaimed, taking off his backpack, unzipping it, and taking out the book. He walked over to the bookshelf, standing on his tallest tippy-toes and placing it on the shelf.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
“Goodnight, Augustus. If you need anything, I am just down the hallway, okie dokie?” He said, holding out a thumbs up.
Augustus, tucked snugly under the covers, held out a thumbs up in return. “Okie dokie.”
Copia, leaving the door just slightly ajar, made his way back to his room. Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he sighed deeply, picking apart the man staring back at him with tears in his eyes, who still didn’t seem much like a father. The day went well, he thought, but there was no doubt it was all incredibly overwhelming. Did he overwhelm Augustus? What could he do to help him come out of his shell? 
“Day one of fatherhood and I’m already a wreck,”Copia mentally belittled himself. In the middle of his spiral, he heard a quiet knock on the door. 
Like magic, Copia nearly teleported to the door and sucked back his tears; a superpower that supposedly came with becoming a parent. There Augustus stood in the doorway, tears running down his rosy cheeks.
“Augustus! What’s wrong?” He fretted, crouching in front of him, concern etched on his face.
“I can’t-” Augustus sniffled, Copia’s heart instantly shattering. “I can’t sleep.” the boy softly cried.
“Oh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Copia consoled him. “Can I give you a hug?”
Augusted answered by holding out his arms, to which Copia immediately wrapped his arms around him.
“It’s very hard. I know. I know.” Copia comforted him, though he wanted to cry just as much. Through the sniffles and hiccups, Copia soon heard a giggle escape Augustus’s mouth. Copia gently pulled away from the hug, as Augustus smiled and pointed to the wall behind Copia. Turning around, he noticed his iconic poster hanging proudly - ��Hang in there baby!’
“Oh, the poster? It is funny, isn’t it?”
Augustus nodded. “I like the cat.”
“So do I. Do you want it?”
“Really?” He asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
“Sì. We can put it up in your room.”
“Sì is yes?”
“Oh! Sì- Yes. Sì means ‘yes’ in Italian.”
“Okay. Yay!”
“I always seem to catch sight of that silly cat when I need it most…” He remarked. “Speaking of a cat… I know a very good story involving a lion, a witch, and a specific piece of furniture if you’d like to read it together.”
Augustus grinned wide, his joy completely replacing the tears he had shed just moments ago.
Copia followed Augustus into his room, carrying the framed poster, and setting it beside a stack of paper on top of the dresser.
“He will sleep here tonight, but we will put him on the wall tomorrow.” Copia said as Augustus crawled into bed and under the covers. “All snug?”
Augustus nodded.
“Okie dokie. Here we go. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” He began. “Once there were…” Copia began, and soon noticed Augustus holding up four fingers.
“Ah, you are correct! Four children. And their names were…”
“Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy,” he repeated.
“And you remember them in the right order, too! Wow. Very good memory you have!”
“Thank you,” Augustus replied, smiling.
“This story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the war because of the air raids. They were sent to the house of an old Professor who lived in the heart of the country, ten miles from the nearest railway station and two miles from the nearest post office…”
Copia continued reading the story as Augustus found his eyes growing heavy under the soothing cadence of Copia’s voice. 
“This is the land of Narnia, said the Faun, where we are now; all that lies between the lamp post and the-”
Copia peered above the book and caught sight of Augustus, eyes shut and mouth agape, his breathing establishing a steady rhythm . Augustus had made it to sleep before they even made it to Narnia. Copia smiled, closing the book softly, careful not to disturb the now-sleeping Augustus. The Cardinal remained seated on the side of the bed for a moment, basking in heights of graciousness he didn't even know were humanly possible; he felt blessed that this precious little boy, whos life clearly had not been easy, was safe with the Clergy, was safe with him.
Placing the book on top of the nightstand and turning off the lamp, Copia carefully stood up and began to tiptoe out of the room, stopping when he noticed a sheet of paper sitting atop the dresser. He knew drawings were an important and often personal form of self expression, especially for children, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what Augustus had come up with; he seemed like a creative spirit. Through the darkness of the room, squinting at the paper, Copia was able to make out two figures with writing on top.
Yeah, he was gonna be be a good Papa. Better than good, great. Some may even say the greatest.
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OMG YALL😭😭😭😭
first things first,
i can’t apologize enough for my absence!!! this story became way longer than i thought it would but i hope it was worth it!!! now that this is done i have other WIP stories i can finally continue working on that include augustus!!!
i love dad copia so much y’all omg i can't even, vinnie and augustus are twin flames omg im so excited to show yall more <3
thank you SO MUCH for reading i can’t thank you enough, i love y’all so much!!!! thank you for your love and patience!!! more stuff coming up SOON <3
<3, alice
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super-princessbimbo · 1 month
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Dear Friends, Family, and Community,
I hope this message finds you well. I'm reaching out to you today with a heavy heart and a sense of desperation. My bestfriend and I are facing the imminent threat of homelessness due to an eviction notice we received. We have no family to lean on.
Despite our best efforts to stay afloat, circumstances beyond our control have left us in this dire situation. We are losing the roof over our heads, and the thought of being on the streets is terrifying. We have days left. We are on many wait lists for our area, everything is full with at least 60+ person waitlist. With what little money we already have we are trying to find a place. We have already contacted many homeless shelters and they are full here in our town and the next.
This means our only options for us and my ESA's is a hotel and thats if we can find one we can afford and alloweds cats. My roomie was fired over a issue at work after making a conplant about the manager. Im between jobs from not being able to afford my antidepression meds. i have two jobs lined up but no word back on any start dates. We dont have service and are using public free wifi to check emails. 
I'm turning to you, the community, for support in any way possible. If you can spare even a small amount, it would mean the world to us. Whether it's a dollar, five dollars, or any amount you can manage, every contribution counts and will go directly towards helping us secure stable housing.
If you're able to donate, you can send funds to my Cash App at https://cash.app/$LexieBean00 . Your generosity will not be forgotten, and we will be forever grateful for your kindness during this challenging time.
Even if you're unable to contribute financially, your moral support and words of encouragement mean a great deal to us. Sharing our story with others who may be able to help is also incredibly valuable. Please at least reblog, boost anything.
(Im willing to sell pictures of myself if thats what keeps us off the street so anyone please)
Thank you for taking the time to read this message and for considering how you can assist us.
With heartfelt gratitude. Thank you
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ro-is-struggling · 1 year
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New Love || Bucky Barnes x Reader
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, past Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: after a long day at work all you want to do is curl up on the couch with Bucky and forget about the existence of the outside world. But things get complicated when the past catches up with you, knocking on your door and asking for your help. 
Warnings: mentions of the reader being a nurse, jealousy, talks of insecurities, mentions of blood, reader being afraid to love again, angst with a happy ending
English is not my first language
Word count: 6600
Notes: this is a continuation of You Ruined Me and Lose Myself but I think you can read it as a stand alone, you just have to know that reader and Matt used to date but broke up because he was still I'm love with Elektra and that now she's dating Bucky
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You should have known that today was not your day. You had one of the longest and most stressful shifts at the hospital. Two of your coworkers had called in sick and another had started maternity leave which meant you had to cover the work of three nurses plus your usual work. You had to stay and work overtime which ruined your dinner plans with Bucky. Your relationship was still relatively new and you were excited for every date as if it was your first. You loved spending time with him at your apartment or his, but you loved it even more when you went on dates because you got to see a different side of Bucky. He would turn into a complete romantic, giving you flowers and chocolates, opening doors for you and pulling up your chair and taking you to nice places. It was a little old-fashioned, but in a lovely, charming way. 
When you called him to cancel your plans, Bucky insisted on seeing you anyway. You made it clear to him that you would be home late, but he said it would be no problem. He assured you that he would be waiting for you with dinner ready and a movie to watch while you snuggled up on the couch so you could relax and forget the stress of the day. You let out a chuckle and thanked him, unable to believe you had found such a wonderful man after all. Bucky seemed to be someone ripped straight out of your dreams, your very own romance novel protagonist written by a woman, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world when you were together. 
When you got home Bucky was waiting for you just as he had promised. He used the extra key you had given him in case of emergencies to get in while you were gone and took the liberty of preparing dinner so that you didn't have to do anything but sit and relax when you arrived. You were so tired that you almost cried when you saw the table ready, the delicious smell of freshly cooked food inviting you to sit down. You ran into Bucky's arms, mumbling words of gratitude as you hid in the warmth of his body.
You ate while you told him about some of the things that had happened to you during the day, venting the frustration you felt building up in your shoulders with every word that came out of your mouth. Once you finished, Bucky took charge of clearing the table, refusing to accept your help. He sent you to sit on the couch in the living room and asked you to get everything ready to watch the movie —which was the next one on the list you had made together of all the movies and TV shows you considered an insult that he didn't know about. He joined you a few minutes later, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you close to him as you pressed play. You nestled your head on his chest, the musky scent of his perfume hitting your nostrils and washing away the remaining stress in your system. You felt as if a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders, light and relaxed as you lost yourself in Bucky's body heat. 
But you should have known that the horrible day you'd had could never end on such a positive note. You should have known that things would only get worse. 
You were barely thirty minutes into the movie when you began to hear strange sounds. Fearing it was some kind of weird bug that had somehow found its way into your apartment, you paused the movie to listen more carefully. It was silent for a moment. And then a knock on the glass made you turn your head toward the balcony door. Your eyes widened in surprise upon discovering the figure of a badly wounded man leaning against the glass door.
"Matt?"
It was the first time you had seen him since that rainy night when he had once again broken your heart without even realizing it. However, you were unable to feel anything but concern when you saw the state he was in. His beaten and bloodied body had collapsed on the balcony floor. You ran to him, kneeling beside him so that you could examine his wounds closely. He had cuts and bruises on every visible part of his body. When you touched his abdomen looking for serious wounds he let out a grunt of pain. Your fingers made contact with a thick, sticky liquid and it was then that you noticed the pool of blood that had formed on the floor. 
"This is Matt?" the voice of Bucky echoed behind you. The comment rolled off his lips with a harsher tone than he expected, but luckily you didn't mention anything about it. He remained in the doorframe, watching you attend to Matt with a mixture of surprise and confusion at the circumstances in which he finally met the man he had heard so much about.
"Help me get him inside" you said without even looking up to meet his eyes. 
As Bucky settled Matt on the couch you ran off in search of your first aid kit and a couple of clean cloths to use to stop the bleeding. Kneeling by Matt's side once again, you used a pair of scissors to cut off the shirt he was wearing so you could tend to his wounds more easily. Small cuts and bruises adorned his torso, but the worst injury was the stab wound on the right side of his abdomen. Luckily it didn't seem to be deep enough to have damaged any vital organs, but it was bleeding pretty badly and from Matt's pale and weak appearance you guessed that you didn't have much time to waste. 
Struggling to remain calm, you asked Bucky to put pressure on the wound while you checked Matt's vital signs. His breathing was labored and his heartbeat was weak. He had definitely lost a lot of blood, but you were confident that everything would be okay if you could stop the bleeding soon. So you got to work without wasting another second. While Bucky put pressure on the wound, you concentrated on the minor cuts, cleaning and bandaging each one to make sure they didn't get infected. And as you worked, your mind kept imagining the situation that led Matt to such a state, trying to guess what it was that he was working on now. He had many enemies, some too powerful for it to be a fair fight. You just hoped that none of them were the ones who caused his injuries.
When the bleeding finally stopped you relieved Bucky of his duties so you could start cleaning and closing the wound. Matt had fallen unconscious within a second of being placed on the couch, his body succumbing to the blood loss. But at least that made your job easier, you could disinfect and stitch his cuts without having to deal with his body twitching in pain. 
At no time did you stop to consider how weird the situation you were in was. You were too worried about Matt's health to realize that you were kneeling next to your ex-boyfriend, treating his wounds with extreme care under the watchful eye of your current boyfriend. Your hands were working on Matt's body with great experience not only from your profession but also from the many times you had tended to his wounds in the past. It was amazing to think how despite all that had happened between you, all the pain he had caused you, you still felt the same fear and concern you felt in those days when you were still together. 
"C'mon, Matt. Stay with me, please" you murmured without realizing it, your hand gently caressing his face as you felt a familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach.
Bucky watched the scene from the door frame not knowing what to do. He understood that Matt was in a delicate condition and that it was perfectly normal for you to be worried about him. You were the kindest and most caring person he had ever met and you two had a pretty intense history so Bucky expected you to react that way, especially considering Matt's condition. But at the same time it was that same history that you shared that worried him so much. Bucky knew how much you had loved Matt and how much it had taken you to get over him so naturally he felt upset to see you so close to your ex-boyfriend. 
Maybe it was his insecurities talking, but there was something about the way you looked at Matt that gave him a bad feeling. Your eyes were full of concern as your hands caressed his face with such care, such affection, that it made Bucky wonder if you were really over him. He was now stable, all his wounds had been disinfected and bandaged, yet you were still sitting beside him holding his hand as you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. 
Bucky's blood boiled with jealousy. A lump formed in his throat that tightened with every word he heard leave your lips. Cursing to his enhanced hearing, he disappeared into the kitchen before he ended up doing something he would regret when he came back to his senses. He thought about going home, but if there was one thing he hated more than staying there to witness the scene, it was the thought of leaving you alone with Matt. So he concentrated on washing the dinner dishes, struggling to think about anything other than the way his girlfriend —the most wonderful woman he'd ever met— seemed to still have feelings for her ex-boyfriend.
It wasn't fair. Things were going great between the two of you. Sure, your relationship was fairly new and you were still figuring things out, but you had a great time together and there wasn't a moment of the day when you weren't communicating, talking in person, calling or texting. He had even learned to make video calls to see you for even five minutes on days when your schedules didn't match. That was how much you needed each other, how much you enjoyed each other's company. 
Bucky had begun to feel more confident recently. The voice of insecurity in his mind had been silenced by the affection you showed him and how well your relationship was working. Matt had no right to suddenly show up and tear down all his confidence in a heartbeat. Bucky knew full well that he was extremely lucky to have you by his side. He knew he probably didn't deserve you, but for a moment he had come to believe that you had a future together. And now all of his dreams and fantasies were threatened by the presence of Matt, a man he had once heard you describe as the love of your life. And even though things between you were going well, he wasn't sure he could compete with that. 
Bucky was so deep in thought that he didn't hear you coming into the kitchen. So when he felt the weight of a hand resting on his arm he startled, spattering drops of water in all directions. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in" he apologized for splashing you. 
"It's fine" you replied in a soft tone, reaching out to turn off the faucet, indicating to Bucky that you wanted his attention. He got the message immediately and quickly wiped his hands on the rag resting next to the dishes before turning around so he could look you in the eyes. 
"How's Matt?" he asked to fill the silence that had formed between you.
"He's stable, for now at least. I think he has a few broken ribs but there's nothing I can do to help him with that now."
"Shouldn't we take him to a hospital?"
"Matt doesn't like hospitals. It's best not to argue with him about it, trust me."
An awkward silence formed between you that took you by surprise. You didn't fall into awkward silences. Well, maybe at the beginning of your friendship when Bucky had not yet broken out of his shell, but it had been a long time since you found yourselves in this kind of awkward situation. You were always comfortable and relaxed around each other. Silences happened, but not like this, not with that strange tension in the air. 
You suddenly felt the need to excuse Matt's presence, to make it clear to Bucky that the fact that you had helped him meant nothing. It was ridiculous, Matt had surprised you with his presence and you were pretty sure Bucky understood that your concern was due to the critical state he was in. You trusted him to know that you had eyes for no one else and that Matt was nothing more than a sad memory of something that could not be. Although the tension in the air made you doubt.
"Listen, I wanted to thank you for helping me with Matt," you said with some hesitation, clearing your throat to make sure the words left your lips. "And I wanted to apologize for ruining the night. You were so sweet and caring with everything you did tonight and we couldn't even finish the movie."
"Don't worry about it, doll" Bucky brushed it off. The use of the affectionate nickname made you smile. You loved it when he called you that, it made you feel special. "Matt needed your help. We can finish the movie another day, this was more important."
"You're important too" you were quick to say, a subtle way of reminding him that he was much more important to you than Matt in case he thought otherwise. "I love spending time with you and what you did tonight was really sweet. Our dates are the most important part of my days. And the most fun" you added, reaching out to caress his cheek. Bucky leaned into your touch, letting the warmth of your skin and the love in your words ease the pain in his heart.
"They're the most important part of my days too" he said, and he wasn't lying. The happiest moments of his days were the ones he shared with you. And when you were apart, he looked forward to your reunion. Your company was what kept him grounded, your laughter, a sweet melody that brightened his days every time he heard it. It had been a long time since he had felt a love as intense, as pure, as the one he felt for you. And honestly that scared him a little. You held an immense amount of power over him by holding his heart in your hands and it scared him to think what would become of him if you decided to hurt him. 
Taking Bucky's face in your hands, you leaned in to bring your lips together in a quick but gentle kiss that you hoped would convey what you felt. When you parted, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours, your noses brushing as you gazed into each other's eyes. He admired you in silence, trying to convince himself that everything was fine and that he had nothing to worry about. He saw nothing but love staring back at him, your eyes shining with that special sparkle he loved so much. But still the voice of insecurity inside him made him doubt. 
Bucky wanted to tell you how he felt. He wanted to tell you that he loved you like he had never loved anyone in his life. He wanted to tell you that he was jealous of Matt and that he was afraid of losing you. He was afraid that one day you would realize the big mistake you had made by agreeing to go out with him. He was afraid to hear you say that you were still in love with Matt. He was afraid you would become a memory, a stranger whose laughter he would recognize in a crowd of people. Bucky loved you too much and couldn't bear the thought of losing you. 
He opened his mouth to speak but the words got caught in his throat. And just like that the moment was broken, interrupted by Matt's grunts of pain that warned them that he had regained consciousness. You gave Bucky an apologetic smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips before rushing into the living room to examine Matt. You didn't want to leave him, but you couldn't leave Matt alone either. You just hoped Bucky would understand, that somehow he knew he was the only true owner of your heart.
"For fucks sake, Matt! Lay down, you need to rest" you scolded him as soon as you saw him trying to get up from the couch. He tried to resist you when you tried to force him to lie down, but he was so weak that he wasn't able to put up a fight. "How did you end up like this? I thought you had a suit that protected you."
"I do have one, it's just getting fixed" Matt said with a wince as you checked his wounds to make sure he hadn't opened any stitches.
"You mean you've been running around Hell's Kitchen without any protection all this time?" You spoke with horror in your voice, imagining the kinds of dangers he had been facing without a suit to keep him safe. If even with one he sometimes came home beaten and bleeding you didn't even want to think about how much worse the situation had gotten now that he didn't have one. "Jesus Christ, Matt! Why didn't you come here before?"
"After everything that happened between us I wasn't sure if you would open the door for me."
When you heard Matt's words, you put aside everything you were doing to look at him with a serious expression in your eyes. Sure, you hadn't ended things in the best way. He had made you suffer and yes, for a while you had held a grudge. But that didn't mean you wanted him dead or that you enjoyed his pain. Not even on your worst days would you have thought to slam the door in his face if he came to you for help. You just weren't that kind of person.
"Listen, Matt, I know our relationship didn't end well but I would never refuse to help you with something like this" you said and he was able to hear the honesty in your voice. "I'd rather deal with the tension in the air than have you running around the city wounded and bleeding. You could have died!"
A silence formed as Matt processed your words. You were too good and he definitely didn't deserve you. After everything he had done to you and all the pain he had caused you, you still wanted to help him. Matt felt like an idiot, like the biggest son of a bitch on the planet as your delicate fingers took care of fixing one of the bandages on his chest that had come undone. You were worried about him, inspecting his wounds carefully as you had done so many times in the past. You cared about him despite everything he had done to you.
"I'm sorry" Matt murmured in a calm, sincere voice, resting his hand over yours on his chest. "I'm sorry for everything... for hurting you, for the way I handled our relationship and for the way it ended. You didn't deserve any of that... not a single day goes by without me wishing our story had ended differently.”
You fell silent, taken aback by Matt's words. You had spent many nights imagining this very situation. It was your comfort in your worst moments, fantasizing that he would show up to apologize for how he had treated you. You relieved your frustrations by imagining slamming the door in his face or describing in detail how broken you felt inside so that he would understand the pain he had caused you. But now that it was finally happening you didn't know how to respond. The speeches you had recited over and over in your fantasies no longer matched how you felt. 
And that's how you realized that the wounds in your heart had healed, maybe not completely but enough so that you no longer held a grudge against Matt.
"I'm sorry too" you answered at last and you were being completely honest. You were terribly sorry for the way your relationship had ended, but that was all. You no longer felt hatred or crushing anguish, just mild sorrow about how bad your last moments together as a couple were. It saddened you because you knew that things between you could have been very different, but that was all. 
The sound of Bucky clearing his throat brought you out of your thoughts. As you looked up you met his figure standing tall in the door frame. His eyes were glued to your hands resting on Matt's chest, trapped under his own hands.
"I'm going home" Bucky declared before disappearing down the hallway to the front door, not giving you time to reply before he vanished from your sight.
"Bucky, wait!" you called after him, chasing him to prevent him from leaving without talking to you first. You wanted to make sure he knew nothing was going on between you and Matt, to tell him that your heart belonged to him and no one else. But you didn't know how to express yourself without sounding too intense, so when you caught up with him–-with one foot already out of your apartment—all you could say was, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, doll, I'm fine" he assured you, but you didn't believe him. He looked tense, his demeanor completely different than it had been a couple of hours earlier as you ate dinner and chatted about your day.
"Are you sure?" you insisted, looking at him with your big eyes full of doubt.
"Yes, I'm sure." Bucky sighed. "I'm just tired, doll, and you're very busy with Matt here so I'm just gonna go home and get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You knew that wasn't true, he was clearly upset by Matt's presence there, but you decided not to press him about it. You figured you'd have plenty of time to talk once you were alone, so you nodded your head in agreement. 
You gave him a quick kiss and wished him goodnight before letting him go, closing the door to your apartment as you cursed in your mind. It was all too good to be true. Your relationship with Bucky was going too well so of course something had to happen and mess it up. That was just your luck.
"I'm sorry if I caused any problems with your boyfriend. I didn't know where else to go" Matt spoke from the couch, sensing better than anyone the tension his presence had created between the couple. "He doesn't seem to like me that much so I assume you told him about me."
"It's fine, we just started dating. I'm sure he'll understand. And if he doesn't... Well, he's not the only guy out there. I'll be fine" you said, plopping down on the arm of the couch at Matt's feet. It was a complete lie. You were convinced that Bucky was the last decent man left in the city and losing him would devastate you, but you hoped Matt was too injured to detect your heartbeat. 
"Oh c'mon, Y/N! We both know that's a lie. You really like this guy. I recognize the symptoms, you know.... Your body temperature rises when he's close to you, your heart beats faster when he calls your name... Just like it used to happen when we were dating."
The melancholic tone in Matt's voice and his sad words made you think of the happy days you had shared with him. You remembered the tingle that used to awaken inside you at the mere touch of your skin against his or the way your heart would melt at the sight of his smile. You thought of the way his kisses used to make your knees weak and the sense of calm and security that waking up next to him gave you. Those were all things that until recently you thought you would never experience again. You used to think that after Matt you would never be able to fall in love with someone else, either because of the fear of being hurt again or because you thought you would never be able to get over him. But now hearing him say those things about the way your body reacted to Bucky made you realize that wasn't true. You already knew that you liked Bucky, but you had never taken the time to consider how deep your feelings for him were until this moment.
"I really thought you were the only man for me" you broke the silence, speaking as you stared off into the distance while remembering those dark moments in your past. "When we broke up I thought I'd never be able to fall in love again. This thing I have with Bucky feels... weird, like it's something that shouldn't have happened. It's like I've found a way to trick the universe into giving me a second chance. The problem is, I'm not sure I'm ready to start over. I don't know if I can give myself completely to someone again." You confessed letting out a frustrated sigh, not even considering how strange and probably inappropriate it was that you were opening up like that to your ex-boyfriend.
You loved Bucky and trusted him, but still a small part of you was afraid. You'd had a hard time getting back on your feet after Matt and you weren't sure you were strong enough to do it again if things with Bucky ended badly. 
"I was never the only man for you, Y/N. I'm not even sure I was one of the valid candidates" Matt muttered, letting out a sour laugh. "I was the one who fooled the universe the moment you agreed to go out with me. You were always too good for me. What we had was an illusion, a product of my selfishness."
"No, Matt-"
"It was," he interrupted you before you could convince him otherwise. "It was. I thought I could get on your level, make things work between us, but I was only lying to myself and I ended up hurting you. So please don't close yourself off from love and happiness because of me. Our relationship was never supposed to happen so don't use it as an example for anything."
You didn't know what to answer so you remained silent, reflecting on Matt's words. You didn't agree with him when he referred to himself as unworthy of your love, and even less so when he claimed that your relationship had been a mistake. The love you had felt for him was one of the most intense emotions you had ever experienced in your life up to that point. And even though your breakup had hurt you just as intensely, you didn't regret it at all. Your story was a sad one because you were two compatible people who had been unlucky enough to meet at the wrong time. In the end when it all fell apart it was because Matt was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, not because he was unworthy of your love or anything like that. That was once again a product of Matt's insecurities, which more often than not took over his mind and acted on his behalf. That was something he and Bucky had in common. 
Matt's words kept running through your head even after you retired to your room to let him rest. You laid awake for a while, tossing and turning in bed as you analyzed your situation. You had feelings for Bucky, feelings that only grew with each passing day, and that was something that wasn't going to change. You were already head over heels in love with him. Your fearful mind refused to accept it, but there was no denying the way your heart raced when he was near you. So what was it that made you so scared? Why did you stop yourself every time you were about to confess just how deep your love for him was? You were already screwed so it really didn't make sense to suppress your feelings. Your heart already belonged to Bucky so if things didn't work out between the two of you, you would end up devastated anyway whether you accepted your feelings or not. So the real question you should be asking yourself was, what were you waiting for to do something about it? You were already lost and if you were going to fall you should at least do it right and enjoy the ride down as much as possible.
A wave of confidence suddenly came over you, giving you the courage to get out of bed and leave your apartment in search of Bucky. It didn't matter that it was almost two in the morning or the fact that you were wearing unflattering printed pajamas. All you cared about was communicating your epiphany to Bucky, finally saying out loud what you had been feeling for a long time but had been too afraid to admit.
When you arrived at his door you knocked gently on the wood. You knew he would hear the noise anyway because the super soldier serum coursing through his veins had sharpened his senses. The knocking echoed down the hallway, cutting through the deep silence that filled the stillness of the night. For a moment you thought Bucky was already asleep and wouldn't get up to greet you, but then you heard movement behind the door—a couple of footsteps, creaking wood, a muffled murmur. And then the door opened and the tall, imposing figure of Bucky rose in front of you.
"What are you doing here, doll? Is everything alright?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He looked tired, his hair was messy as if he had just woken up but he didn't have the characteristic expression of having just woken up. He looked at you with relief in his eyes as if all this time he had been waiting for you to show up at his door. You wondered then if maybe he too had spent the night tossing and turning in bed while thinking about your future together.
"I love you" you blurted out without any warning or explanation. You knew that if you struggled to eloquently express your feelings and the thinking path that had led you to that moment you would end up distracting yourself or confusing things. And at this moment you needed to be as clear and direct as possible, so you skipped the unnecessary introductions.
"What?" muttered Bucky with a mix of surprise and confusion in his voice. It wasn't that he hadn't heard you, he had, but he wanted to make sure he had heard you correctly and that it wasn't all the product of some delusion in his brain.
"I love you" you repeated. "I have for a while now, but I was afraid of saying it out loud because, well, I guess it's because that makes it real and you know my history.... Not that I think that you're gonna hurt me like Matt or something, I know you are two different guys with different personalities and all" you rambled. You were nervous and when you got like that you started rambling. It was as if your mouth worked faster than your brain, uttering word after word without having a chance to think about what you were saying until it was too late. 
Luckily for you, Bucky already knew you. He had heard your nervous ramblings on several occasions and honestly he found them adorable. So while you talked without stopping to breathe he just smiled. He smiled because you were the most adorable woman on the planet. He smiled because despite what his insecurities told him, you loved him and didn't seem to want to go anywhere. He smiled because he loved you too and had spent the last few weeks biting his tongue to avoid blurting it out at the most inconvenient times, afraid that it would scare you away from him. 
"Doll," Bucky interrupted you, placing one of his hands on your cheek to force you to look at him. You immediately fell silent as you felt his touch on your skin, losing yourself in the deep ocean of his eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks as you finally realized you were wandering, though the smile on Bucky's face helped ease your embarrassment. "I love you too."
And with those simple four words he was able to melt away all the fear that was spinning in your head, replacing it with a warm and fuzzy feeling that you could only describe as pure happiness coursing through your veins. 
Without another word Bucky stepped forward and closed the distance that separated you, joining your lips in a kiss. Fireworks exploded inside you, multicolored sparkles flashing behind your eyes as Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body against his bare chest. He was kissing you with the same fervor as always, his lips moving expertly in perfect sync with yours, but somehow it felt different. And it was because it was the first kiss you shared without pressure or doubt, fear or insecurity. There were no questions about what the other felt going around in your heads or doubts about the future of your relationship. You both knew now what the other was feeling. You both knew that you were just as madly in love and that you were willing to do whatever it took to make your relationship work. It was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, freeing you from the chains of fear and insecurity and giving you a sense of confidence and security that was reflected in the way your lips moved.
Soon the kiss that began soft and tender turned passionate and desperate. Your hands explored Bucky's bare chest as you clung to his lips. He used his super soldier strength to lift you up, taking you in his arms unexpectedly and forcing you to entwine your legs around his waist. You didn't break the kiss at any point, your lips caressing each other desperately as Bucky walked blindly into his apartment, kicking the door shut. You clung to his broad shoulders for support as he walked to the living room, dropping onto the couch with you on his lap. You let out a squeak of surprise at the impact followed by a laugh that vibrated against his lips.
Bucky smiled against the kiss, but even that wasn't enough to separate you. On the contrary, you took advantage of the new position to deepen the kiss, letting your curious hands explore every inch of exposed skin you came across. It was as if you were physically incapable of pulling away from each other. You had been in that position several times since you had started dating—your movie nights didn't always end when the credits rolled—, but never before had you felt that way. You were desperate to physically prove that your words were real, to express with your bodies how deep your love truly was.
You used your advantageous position on Bucky's lap to dominate the situation. You buried your fingers in his long chestnut hair, intertwining your fingers in the strands as you caught his lower lip between your teeth and nibbled the sensitive skin gently. He let out a deep moan that awakened a tingle inside you. Tightening your grip on his hair, you tilted his head back to expose his neck. He didn't protest, moving his head to the side to give you better access to his soft spots. You smiled at his predisposition and moved your wet kisses down his jaw to his neck. You already knew his sensitive spots very well so you wasted no time and attacked the soft skin under his ear with your lips. Bucky's hands tightened their grip on your waist, trying to control his urges as you nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin of his neck. 
You continued your torturous path of wet kisses down his neck to his collarbone, gently biting the skin before caressing it with your tongue and sucking to relieve the burning. Without realizing it you moved your kisses to his left shoulder, delicately caressing with your lips the scars that adorned the skin that merged with the metal. You didn't think much of it, you were just showing your love in a physical way to your boyfriend. But Bucky tensed under your touch and carefully pulled you off his body, placing his hand under your chin so you could look into his eyes.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked with caution. Feeling your lips on his scars had reminded him how fucked up he was and how bad it was to drag you down with him. "I'm a mess, doll. I'm broken in ways you can't even imagine and I don't know if I can be fixed." His voice cut off a little as he spoke, his eyes glistening with the tears he was trying so hard to hold back. Your heart broke into pieces as you saw the pain reflected in the blue of his eyes and you swore at that moment that you would do everything in your power to erase it from his gaze forever.
You placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin of his face as a small smile formed on your lips. Bucky leaned over your hand, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. You were looking at him with pure adoration in your eyes, something that made his heart race and at the same time made him want to close his eyes. You had never looked at him that way before so he was not used to the attention. He felt self-conscious under the intensity of your gaze and wanted to escape from it, yet at the same time it made his heart pound with joy as a warm feeling filled him completely.
"Who isn't a little broken inside these days?" you replied to his doubts before leaning in and bringing your lips together again in a kiss.
There was a lot of truth behind your words. Humanity was full of people broken inside. Some were in worse condition than others. Some had more tragic stories than others. But they all had some kind of damage. That didn't mean they were any less deserving of love. On the contrary, they deserved as much as everyone else to find someone to trust, someone to lean on. They deserved to have someone by their side willing to listen to their pain and help them through it. And you were willing to be that someone for Bucky, just as he was willing to be that someone for you.
"I'm just saying" Bucky spoke as you parted, a bright smile plastered on his face. "Because I don't think I can ever let you go."
"I'm counting on it."
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