#path to nowhere garofano

[shrimshrim4fun]

PTN woman with Christmas: Headcanons

Note: Happy late Christmas! This is gonna be the Christmas special, I hope you enjoy ^^

Featuring: Adela, Shalom, Coquelic, Zoya, Garofano

Adela:

-When she lived alone she didn’t do too much. Maybe a few small decorations lying around her house to bring in the festivity. Definitely buys those little Christmas bird decorations. If you search “Featherly Friends Birds” you’ll know what I’m talking about. She also names them and has one at the door so when she leaves she bids it goodbye.

-After you came into her life, she definitely upped up her game on decorations because now she has someone to celebrate it with. A tree which you two will decorate together, drinking hot cocoa, and baking cookies. She loves watching Christmas movies with you on the couch.

-Did indeed try to get her own tree but your jaw dropped when she pulled out her shears and tried to aim for the throat of a pine tree. But you two did go pick out one together after persuading her. She was more than excited to go pick out the perfect one to place in your shared home.

Shalom:

-She is the master of choosing gifts for others. Her gifts aim right for your heart if you will. Noting details through the year and coming up with the gift for everyone. There’s not one person that was sad or didn’t like the gift she chose for them.

-You two dance a lot with Christmas music on her record player. Usually a classic song as she runs her finger through her collection. Taking your hand in hers she guides you to the living room floor and let you two drift along with the music. “Let us sway along with the beat, as the best way to celebrate the holidays is…with you.”

-She’s not really the type to go play in the snow due to how cold it is and she’s afraid you’ll catch a cold. But did indulge a little after seeing you beg her. Using sticks to draw little drawings in the snow.

Coquelic:

-Does not enjoy the snowy weather because she has to wear thicker clothes. Complains about it as you bundle her up. You had insisted turning the heater up wasn’t enough and that she was shivering a few minutes ago.

-She cannot wrap presents for her life. The edges are poked out and it just doesn’t look…good in one way or another. And always gets frustrated after the second try which usually leads to one of the other Garden members or you to do it before she starts cussing the gift out.

-Does find it amusing when the Garden members start to play in the snow. She does soften a little as she sees how happy they are. Laughing together and safe. And of this softness ends when one of the snowballs hits her.

Zoya:

-Makes you two kiss under the mistletoe, ofc a fake one. During this time of month she carries one around with her so she has an excuse for more affection.

-Big fan of playing in the snow, especially snow ball fights. She’s usually pretty light with her hits not wanting to hurt you but if one of her members throws a snowball at you, shes full force snipping them in the face or the balls

-During this time of month you will hear showered and when I mean showered i mean you will be bombarded by gifts the whole month. From the minutes it turns December 1 she has a present for you already. If you think she doesn’t give you enough presents you will be wrong. All carefully picked by her and has this big grin on her face when you open it

Garofano:

-Oh the mom she is 😞 Very busy during this time of month. She’s making clothing for everyone in the Garden, baking treats, setting up decorations. But she’s very happy doing these things because it’s for her family, the people that rely on her.

-The pro at wrapping presents. I guess it’s just a mom ability that just happened 😭 The edges are neat, no creases, and all of them look so pretty. She brushes it off like it’s nothing but secretly baths in the praise you give her

-When you asked her what she wanted for her present she placed a bow on your head before asking “am I greedy for asking for you?” It indeed made you blush and she chuckled before placing a kiss onto your head

[purpleberiii]

"Calling the sinners by their correct name"

☆Prompt: How would the sinners react to you calling them by their correct name.

☆Warnings: Nothing too intense, a hit of pain towards the cinnamon rolls (Hamel, Anne), mentions of Chelsea having lots of sugar babies (including you)

☆Includes: Hamel, Anne, Bai yi, Shalom, Eirene, Chelsea, Cabernet, Oak Casket, Garofano, Sumire.

HAMEL

Hamel is a pure innocent baby; one whom you adore to death. While she's mostly quiet, she's very chatty with you, not the type of chatty to talk your ears out, but Hamel would express how she feels with you.

When you called Hamel by her right name, she was dumbfounded. You usually called her sweetheart, or dove so hearing you call her Hamel made her immediately think she did something wrong.

"I don't like that. Please don't call me Hamel," she pleaded with you, her eyes teary. Guilt immediately took over your body and you had to comfort her and tell her she did nothing wrong.

ANNE

Anne is just like Hamel but she's much more talkative, even in public. Anne is not afraid to let anyone know that you are hers. Your relationship with Anne was quite the sweet one and you would act like a caring wife towards her even though you both only started dating for months.

When you called Anne by her right name, it took her a few minutes to process what just happened. "Did I do something wrong my dear?" She asked in a small voice. You knew to yourself that she was as innocent as an angel so it hit you in the guts when she used such a small voice. Like Hamel, you had to comfort her, the guilt crushing your soul for hurting such a small adorable baby.

BAI YI

Bai yi knew she was a case to deal with and she took it upon herself to annoy you or tease you everyday. She absolutely loves it when you shower her in cute nicknames and affection.

So when you called her by her right name, Bai yi chuckled before saying, "Oh? What's up with you?" She didn't take it to heart when you called her that but if you kept calling her Bai yi, she might just die.

SHALOM

Shalom is the type of lover to give you all sorts of nicknames and for her, just one nickname would do, 'Darling'.

"Shalom." When she heard her right name come out of your mouth, she'd just stare at you until you finally call her darling.

"I was beginning to think you didn't love me anymore," she sighed dramatically.

EIRENE

Eirene is a busy woman, she hardly had time to spend with you due to her work but nevertheless she loves you to the core.

When you called her by her right name, she didn't bother with it; well on the outside atleast. On the inside, she's panicking, asking herself what she did wrong. She checked back on her previous interactions with you, ensuring that she didn't say anything wrong.

When you told her it was a joke, then she'll be the one to call you by your right name until you beg for her to stop. She enjoys seeing you beg. She's not mean tho :/

CHELSEA

Sugar mommy Chelsea is such a kind and caring person to all her sugar babies but you are her favorite.

When you called her Chelsea instead of Sugar mommy, expect to be bombarded in a ton of questions. "Is the food not to your liking?" "Did I do something to upset you?" "Is anyone being mean to you?"

When you didn't give her an answer that satisfied her, she tried her next strategy, gifts. Lots and lots of gifts that made the other sugar babies jealous of you.

How could her attempts not sway you? You had to tell her it was a joke and you felt had that she bought all of those gifts, but she didn't.

CABERNET

Oh boy don't mess around with those woman. Although she loves you, calling her Cabernet is a crime.

Like all the professionals you'd have to call them sir/miss, you HAVE to call Cabernet sweetheart.

"Cabernet." "That's sweetheart to you, little one," she pointed her staff to you in a threatening manner.

From that day onwards, her real name was never used again (by you atleast).

OAK CASKET

This woman is such a calm and composed woman. She gives off a motherly figure vibe so hearing you call her nicknames like 'darling' or 'love' or 'honeybunch' will absolutely make her fall even deeper in love with you.

When she heard you call her by her right name, she'd simply chuckle and say, "what have I done to upset you my dear?"

Things like that wouldn't bother her because she knows what when she's ready for you, you'd be definitely forgetting her name.

GAROFANO

She's just like Oak Casket but a much less more quiet version. Hearing you call her Garofano wouldn't bother her, until she realises you weren't going to stop calling her that.

She loves the nicknames you give her and it makes her feel much more loved for so with a slightly upset expression, she'd ask, "Why are you calling me that?"

When you realised that she didn't like it, you stopped and immediately apologised. She forgave you of course but warned you to never do it again.

SUMIRE

Pretty girl assassin has alot on her plate but always makes time for you. She loves having you rest upon her lap while she talks and rambles about her missions.

She seemed so engrossed in telling you how her mission went, it took her a few minutes to realise that you called her Sumire and not 'baby'.

"But I am your baby. Not Sumire," she'd stare at you, letting out a small sigh before plunging on top of you and prepping your faces with kisses, apologising for making you mad even though she did nothing. You just wanted to see her reaction to it.

A/n: took a few days to write this but I still don't like it 😭

[bunnivez]

Hello Hello! May I asked a Alpha Garofano with a breeding kink? Garofano is so MILF, so why not let's give her that😏

(BTW can I be ✨ anon)

Comment: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and the moment has come… Honestly I am surprised I haven’t seen people write this yet, or maybe they have and I simply haven’t noticed, who knows. Never thought I’d want to see more of Garofano but here I am.

જ⁀➴ … Event .. This event is omegaverse themed

Sweet, gentle, but goodness was it possessive. A perfect description of how good your Alpha fucks you. Her cock felt so perfect inside you, stretching you so good, each thrust was deep but gentle— making you feel every inch of her.

“Oh my sweet baby…” You heard Garofano groan. Her body was sweaty, she was exhausted; thats true, but there was no way she was stopping. The sight of your sweet, fucked out form underneath her is such a pretty sight. So pretty moaning for her, belly bulging slightly from how much she has filled you with her warm seed; your womb is full but that doesn’t mean she’ll stop.

“G-garofano… S-so full..” You managed to say. It was hard to form any words with your current state, it just made you look cuter in your alpha’s eyes. “Ssssh, sweet thing.. I know you can take it, you can— can’t you? Ngh… Pretty girls take their mommy’s cum, and your my pretty girl right?”

She ripped another moan from you. Goodness you couldn’t even move your legs, or feel them. All you could feel was her inside of you, tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly with every thrust making you whimper.

Suddenly you wrapped your lips around her hard nipple causing her to moan, thrusting into you at a slightly faster pace. “Ah~!”

Your muffled moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room along with Garofano’s moans. Her pace started to get rougher, but she still held onto you caringly as you let go of her nipple with a soft ‘pop’.

Your pussy was creating more slick as your alpha’s scent got stronger, it only made your heat worse, it made you needy for more and Garofano knew that. She couldn’t help but let out another moan when she felt your gummy walls squeeze around her tighter, urging for her release, urging for her seed.

“Oh darling~.. you feel amazing, you’re so beautiful, so precious. Ah~! Oh i’m going to breed this pretty pussy, you’ll give me babies right? Ohhh~ yes you will.” She grunted, her thrusts picking up pace. She was so close to cumming and so were you; you wrapped your legs around her waist to push her deeper inside you as much as possible.

A few more thrusts, that’s all it took for her to finally fill you up again. Your womb felt like it was about to burst— you are surprised with how she managed to fit some inside you in the first place.

You both simply laid there, catching your breath, your lover still balls deep inside you, her breasts pressed against yours. Despite how exhausted you both were, Garofano wasn’t done with you yet; and she won’t be done until her cum leaks from out of your pussy, until there is no more room in your womb, until she is certain you have been well bred and most likely to end up carrying her offspring.

This time however, you were ass up while your face was buried on the sheets. Oh goodness how you could feel her cock inside you better in this position, deeper, it was overwhelming even. Every small thrust ripped out a loud moan from you, your pussy was so sensitive to a point where everything felt too much, even a small touch.

“Oh my sweet girl… ah.. So pretty, so beautiful taking all of me. You will turn me into a mommy right? Yes, yes my pretty baby will.” She breathy moans and your loud ones filled the room, one of her hands was placed on your hip, while the other on your tummy, feeling the bulge move inside you before pressing it lightly which you cried in response.

Garofano grabbed you my the chin to pull you into a sweet passionate kiss to which you returned, your brain all fuzzy and blank.

Oh how she loves you, her sweet baby, mommy’s good girl.

𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐳 — Do not copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work without permission, and most of all— don’t claim my work as yours!

[shalomsexual]

NEIGHBOUR NEXT DOOR

Prompt: In which Reader and her kid just moved into the neighbourhood and is welcomed by the sweet older woman next door. As reader settled in, she began noticing her neighbour's behaviour has changed.

Warnings: Possessive Garofano, G!P Reader, mentions of death, drug abuse...

Game: Path to nowhere

Modern Au!

The chirping of birds awoken you from your deep slumber. A heavy weight pressed down on your chest as you looked at your four year old sleeping peacefully, her tiny arms gripping your shirt. You sat up slightly, gently laying her down on the side of the bed before getting up.

Your wife had passed two years ago, and living in your previous city wasn't working out for you. Everything seemed to remind you of the woman you once loved. Her death didn't come off as unexpected. You knew she was bound to die sooner or later from all the drugs she took. It never registered in your brain as to why she would take so many. You may sound like a monster for thinking that it was better off this way, only because she never paid attention to your daughter; always neglecting her of the parental guidance she needed or the love and care she needed. It was all left on you- not that you minded though. Your kid is the sweetest human on the planet so it wasn't hard to take care of her on your own. But that was all in the past. As you moved to this new neighbourhood, you were determined to start afresh, giving your daughter the life she deserved.

You started off the day with a warm cup of coffee and made breakfast for the little angel for when she'd wake up. The boxes that contained your stuff was left unattended too as you had only arrived yesterday. Looking at it with a sigh, one by one you began unloading the boxes, attempting to make everything neat but unfortunately for you, you had problems organising stuff. Feeling frustrated, you kicked an empty box to the side and your actions were cut short by the ring of your door. Straightening out yourself, you opened, only to be greeted by the sight of an older woman. Her purple hair was tied with a dark green ribbon and her skin was as white as milk. Her purple eyes had a hint of softness and gentleness in them as she gazed at you, holding a box of freshly baked cookies. "Good morning dearest. I assume you're the new neighbour?" She asked, smiling.

You cleared your throat and smiled. "Y-yes I am. I'm Y/n. I just moved here yesterday."

The said woman chuckled at your flusteredness and couldn't help but muse with a teasing glint. "There's no need to be flustered y/n. I'm Garofano. I brought you some cookies as a welcome gift to the neighbourhood."

You took the cookies with a smile and as you were about to speak, you felt a tug on your pants. Looking down, you saw your daughter rubbing her eyes. "Mommy, you left something on the stove..." she mumbled. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran into the kitchen, completely forgetting to turn it off after cooking.

"Sweetheart! Tell the nice lady to come in!" You shouted from the kitchen.

Your daughter looked at Garofano before smiling. "Hi! I'm (whatever you wanna name her). Mommy says you can come in." She opened the door slightly wider for Garofano to pass. The said woman absolutely adored kids. She would make clothes for the kids in the neighbourhood just out of the goodness of her heart.

As Garofano walked in, she noticed the mess the apartment was in and couldn't help but smile a little. After all, she knew how first times can be for moving in, especially with a child to take care of. "Sorry about the mess. I was trying to pack my stuff up but I have trouble with organising things..." you rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

"Ah. I completely understand. If you like, I can help you." Her offer seemed so good but you couldn't burden a stranger with your troubles.

"Yes please do. Mommy can't do it all alone." Your daughter smiled widely making the older woman's heart swell with joy.

With a brief introduction of your daughter to Garofano, the two of you began packing, with Garofano giving you some tips. The little chore had drawn you closer to the woman, making you get to know her. It seemed like it was in fate's plan to make you two meet as you both suffered the same incident- your spouses dying.

As Garofano listened to you talk, she couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness welling up inside her. It was strange to feel this way about a stranger but to her, you weren't a stranger- not anymore atleast. She just hoped you didn't consider her a stranger too.

You offered to cook lunch for her as a thank you and she happily agreed. Your daughter had wiggled her way into Garofano's heart in a short amount of time. The three of you ate lunch and conversed and it was safe to say, you and the older woman had gotten close since then. Real close. And as time flew by, you got comfortable about her, sharing your personal feelings from time to time and she returned the same. Eventually, she began looking after your daughter, giving her the care and love a mother should- not that you didn't. You were just more into the fatherly role like teaching her how to ride a bike, taking her to school and what's not.

Garofano fell. She fell hard. Never in a million years did she thought she'd fall for someone THIS hard. It was like 4th of July when she's with you. It's like the moon who needs to sun to shine. That's what she felt about you and she was sure to let you know in all ways. But you being your oblivious self, couldn't pick up on the hints. It boht frustrated and aroused Garofano. To have someone so cute and obvious in her grasp was like hitting a jackpot to her. She would sit close to you, always touching you some way or the other. It didn't matter, she needed to be close to you. Your oblivious also had a limit. There were times where you'd notice her behaving strangely, like glaring at any woman talking to you, intentionally brushing against your member. You didn't question it though, only thinking it might be your imagination.

"Garofano, do you like my mommy?" Your little girl asked Garofano who was reading a bed time story. You were downstairs cooking dinner for you two as you had invited her over once more.

"Do you think I like her sweetheart?"

"Well... you always seem to be happy when you're around her. And I think she feels the same way."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Will you be my new mommy?"

Garofano smiled before kissing her head. "We'll see when the time comes." She soon joined you after the child had fallen asleep. The aroma of delicious good filled her nostrils and she couldn't help but sigh in delight. "It seems lovely in here, honey."

"R-really? Thank you. Is she asleep?"

"She's sleeping like a baby."

"Good." You took out the food before serving it to her. Once you both were seated, you continued. "Thank you Garofano. These past few months have been enjoyable for her. She's never really had a motherly figure in her life and you've really filled the part."

"Did I? I'm glad I can be able to help her even though I'm not her real mother. It fills my heart with joy when I'm with that little bundle of joy. She's a sweet child and she'll forever be happy."

Garofano looked at the way your eyes softened ever so slightly. You had always seemed to become a different person when it's anything concerning your daughter. It's one of the things that made her feel deeply attracted to you. "You're also a sweet person. From the first day you came over with the cookies. It showed me how good of a person you are." The countless phrasing praises were thrown back and forth at each other. Once dinner was done, she offered to wash the plates and you cleaned up around the table.

You walked her to her door, though it was only a house away, you felt it was the right thing to do. "Thank you for having me over, darling."

"Anytime. I enjoy your company. Alot." Her eyes shone upon hearing your statement.

"Really? That means alot." Silence fell among you two and slowly, under tension that was there, you leaned in, until your lips met hers. She didn't react much, only pulling you closer by gripping your collar. Your arms wrapped around her waist as you hugged her closer. When breathing became a problem, you pulled away. "Oh my~ you're very bold." She mused, her finger tips touching your lips. You smiled and playfully bit her finger.

"I just love being bold to hot people." That was definitely a lie. You didn't even know where the confidence came from but you were just glad it showed up at the right moment. "Be mine, Garo?"

"Oh dear I was always yours from the start. When I saw you, I didn't want anybody else, except you and now that I have you, I don't plan on letting go."

[vrachis]

chat will you hear me out with dom!camgirl reader with sub!local milf garofano

[ptn-imagines]

Sorry tumblr is being a butt! Anyways, if I may, I'd love to read or hear any headcanons or imagines involving reader/f!Chief with either Countess Chelsea, Hamel, Eleven, Sumire, or Garofano. Whichever one(s) inspiration strikes for you. If I could be a tad bit more specific, maybe the prompt could be something like "the ways you and the specific Sinner(s) are kind and affectionate with one another"? Could be SFW or NSFW. Sorry if this is too much, been feeling kinda down with ennui and current state of the world and all. And please, take care of yourself and write at your own pace :)

I, uh, felt inspired. To say the least. Anyway, this has made me realize that it'd probably be faster to list Sinners I can't see as autistic... Also, in hindsight, I realize you may have meant this romantically. I mean, these can be read romantically, but they can also be read platonically. I hope you enjoy either way!

The ways F!Chief and her Sinners are affectionate and kind with one another

Countess Chelsea

It's a given that she'll shower Chief in dozens of gifts. Literally dozens. Whether Chief wants it or not. You know how she is. It technically counts as an act of kindness?

Also, with all the money and influence she has, she's definitely able to get Chief invited to many exclusive opportunities. The best seats at the theater, private movie premiers, exclusive, high-society galas, you name it; Chelsea can and will get it for Chief.

Honestly, Chief does accept these invitations from time to time, because not only are they a way to get away from the strain of her work, Chelsea is able to provide a nice buffer against her usual Mania magnet tendencies. In that she can help contain any disaster that breaks out, not that she can prevent the Mania from being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Chief is pretty sure there's no Sinner that can do that.

Finally, the most lowkey way Chelsea shows affection is by letting Chief cuddle with Sitri on those days when she's tired. Sitri may be a terrifying big cat made of gemstones, but Chief has long since found that when it comes to cuddling, Sitri is a fairly nice substitute for a fluffy, domestic housecat. She also has the perk of being big enough to be able to curl around Chief, which is comforting. It's just a matter of getting comfortable, since gemstones are not the softest thing to lay against. Luckily, Chelsea is always willing to provide ridiculously ornate (but functional) blankets and pillows.

Honestly, the number one way Chief shows kindness to Chelsea is simply spending time with her. Though it's true she can be overbearing, Chief knows her heart is good, but deeply lonely; it's why she keeps asking Chief to be her sugar baby, after all. She doesn't seem to realize that Chief prefers spending time with her just for the sake of doing so.

Also, whenever Chief does wear a piece of clothing or an accessory Chelsea bought for her, you can count on the Countess being absolutely over the moon about it for the next week. Chief feels like it should be harder to make Chelsea happy, but… it's not, it's just not. The lapidarist is just too kind-hearted, too full of love and too earnest to be difficult to please, if you know her. And Chief knows her quite well.

Finally, when Chief has a spare moment, she helps Chelsea take care of Sitri sometimes. While she doesn't have the same needs as a flesh and blood cat, she still needs a form of grooming and brushing in the form of polishing, and unlike regular cats, that is a task best suited to human hands. Countess Chelsea is always diligent in this task, but nevertheless she has yet to say no when Chief offers to help, enjoying their bonding time.

Garofano

Like Countess Chelsea, Garofano has one really obvious way she shows affection to the Chief, and that is through mending and tailoring clothes. Half of the Chief's non-work clothes were handmade by the assassin.

Garofano is also really experienced with people and the human heart. If you need a shoulder to cry on but not a flat out therapist, Garofano is pretty much the go-to, and for the Chief? She's always willing to lend an ear. One time, an exhausted Chief actually passed out on Garofano during one of these sessions, and the assassin didn't move for hours, simply holding her close.

Finally… The younger Sinners in the Bureau tend to demand Chief's attention, a lot. While there's no doubt Chief would love to spend time with them around the clock, that's not feasible… So Garofano doesn't mind stepping in to corral them. Her warm, motherly vibes draw the kids in with ease, and they love spending time with her too; Chief is eternally grateful for the breaks Garofano has gotten for her.

When it comes to returning the kindness, Garofano isn't as easy to please as Countess Chelsea, but she's also far from difficult. She has a fairly mild temperament (usually), not tending towards either extreme.

Returning favors to Garofano seemed difficult to the Chief at first until she realized that Garofano was often so busy doing acts of service for others that she neglected herself. From then on, Chief did her best to help Garofano out in small ways such as assigning someone to tidy her cell when it got a little too haphazard, or bringing her meals when she got so engrossed in a project she forgets to eat. These little things go a long way with Garofano.

Most of the Garden would like to receive flowers as a gift, and the seamstress is no exception. It can be difficult knowing which flowers which assassin prefers, but Chief's got it down to a science: for Garofano, flowers symbolizing other members of the Garden (such as poppies and cherry blossoms) are best, but purple carnations, symbolizing Garofano herself, should be avoided.

Finally, Garofano's nature is that she very rarely finds herself in a position where she herself needs to vent… But she is still only human, with her own problems and feelings. When they all become too heavy of a burden for her to bear alone, she knows she can always trust Chief to take care of her.

Hamel

Hamel doesn't enjoy being touched – which makes the fact that she allows Chief to do so a gesture of deep trust and affection. Chief is always careful not to push Hamel's boundaries with this, but even on the days where this simply means being able to stand closer to Hamel than normal, Chief is grateful and honored.

Hamel is also a very withdrawn person, but she has a very vibrant and imaginative mind. While happy with her own company, it's human nature to seek companionship, and Hamel will almost always seek it from the Chief; if there's something interesting that has caught her attention, she can actually be quite excitable in conversation.

As long as it's what she truly wants to do and not being forced upon her, Hamel loves to dance on stage for an audience; however, she's a lot more hesitant about letting others see her practice. Yet, she often invites Chief to watch her rehearsals, seeking out her opinions on each movement. Chief, Hamel feels, is not only a safe and trustworthy person, but someone who can feel the emotions of her dance just as well as she herself can.

Compared to Countess Chelsea and Garofano, Hamel is probably the hardest to read and return kindness to. Still, Chief figured it out, and it was absolutely worth it to see Hamel's rare and precious smile.

First of all, Chief makes sure that Hamel can always find a stage – and an audience that'll appreciate her. While she's not against letting Hamel perform in Eastside if she feels up to it, Chief is quick to scare off anyone who might try to exploit Hamel. She respects her dance as an expression of the self, not a cash cow, and though she doesn't always have the words to express it, Hamel couldn't be more grateful.

Secondly, Chief makes a point of checking in on Hamel a lot. The dancer has an unfortunate habit of getting lost in her own mind, forgetting completely about the outside world and sitting still and quiet for hours. It's not exactly healthy for her and often leads to spikes in her M-value, so Chief always keeps an eye out for these moments so she can “wake her up” with the shackles.

Finally… It turns out, Hamel really loves stuffed animals. Chief never imagined she'd form a habit of buying sealife plushies, but here she was; besides, the noticeable brightening of Hamel's mood when receiving a new one was worth the expenditure. Hamel's bed was covered in plushies she'd received from the Chief, though her favorite was the first one she'd been given, a stuffed jellyfish. That one has a place of honor by her pillow, which it only ever leaves to be held by Hamel.

[nomorefstogive]

Our Dearest Sin: Chapter 3: Taking Care of Flowers (Crossposted on Ao3)

@lirational It took me quite a while, but I hope you like this.

The flowers were in bloom, the fragrant aroma of poppies and carnations, lavender and roses, and many others filling the cell, or perhaps chambers is a more apt word, of the woman known as the Mentor of the Garden, her eyes closed in tranquility as gentle fingers carded through her ivory locks, a low humming further aiding in lulling her into a state of tranquility.

Her eyes were closed, and her senses enveloped in the gentle warmth of the lap her head resting on, along with the fingers trailing through her silken locks, as her violet gently caressed her scalp, resting her back against the dark wood headboard of her mentor’s bed as she did so, her own eyes heavy lidded in quiet peace. 

Further enveloping the Poppy was the warm body of her beloved ‘Moonlight Cinderella’(1) who lay resting beside her, gently rubbing her stomach as nonsensically babbled into her ear as they nuzzled against her, their forehead resting just above her ear as they fought the urge to fall into slumber beside their Mentor. 

Her carnation rested at the foot of the bed, gently rubbing her feet, softly caressing her calves and soles as they looked up at her with a heavy lidded gaze of contented peace and a smile of warm adoration, their lilac hair falling loosely around them as they allowed themselves to relax in full with their family.

Of course these were but 3 of the many flowers that were gathered around her, some lounging against her bed and others against other surfaces, some dozing in peace as they held fast to one another while others lay slumbering or dozing in a state of half awake and half asleep tranquility, the smell of flowers and incense joining with the warmth of gathered bodies and the gentle babbling of water from the fountain that rested in the center of the room  further lulling them into a sense of tranquility. 

On this day there were no contracts from the Spider and the Hush, there were no quests for revenge or debts to settle, no threats to the one that had offered them shelter and comfort, amidst the storm of malaise and mania that hung over the city as Paradeisos and the Underground waltzed their dance macabre upon the bones of the unknowing and innocent, that needed pruning. 

No, on this day there was nothing but each other and the comfort of their family being together, of the younger members huddled together as they listened to the dulcet tones of their elders telling them stories or simply conversing with them as they rested their heads on their laps and shoulders as the older members paired off to cuddle with one another, some exchanging gentle kisses and caresses, and others simply basking in one another's company.

Such was the intensity of the tranquil atmosphere, and so all encompassing its embrace, that none did more than turn a raised brow or inquisitive glance when the doors to the room were opened, an ever welcome and familiar figure entering and, after examining the scene before them for but a moment, moving to approach Coquelic. 

Even from her position on her bed, and even with her senses enveloped by her flowers as they were, Coquelic knew who it was that was now winding their way around her room to her, she did not need to see the way Sumire lit up with an all encompassing joy as they approached or how Garofano’s eyes lit up with a possessive love, or how Gekkabajin smirked with a glint of hunger in her eyes, nor did she even need to register the familiar clicking of shoes on stone or the familiar perfume.

Indeed, all she needed was the growing warmth of the Shackles to tell her who it was that had come to stand beside her bed, eyes traveling across the quartet of bodies that lay upon the bed, 3 of them eagerly beckoning for her to join them 

Barely had the Mentor of the Garden had time to open her mouth to invite Persephone to lay beside her when she felt her bed dip down, a smile crossing her face as she felt a pair of arms, that were still far too thin for her or any of her Flowers liking, gently wrap around her as another warm form came to rest with her. 

Idly Coquelic contemplated turning to face Persephone, to lay her lips against hers and pull her to rest atop her as her flowers gathered around them and joined them, the younger ones being shepherded to soundproofed rooms or turned loose upon the bureau as a whole while their elders indulged themselves in the comfort of their bodies, though ultimately she decided such a thing could wait till later.

For now, she was content just to reach out the arm that was not wrapped around one of her flowers and gently slip it under the chief and embrace her to her side, her fingers gently carding through Persephone’s hair as she felt the Chief nuzzle against her neck, her breath ever so gently caressing her skin as she relaxed.

Silently and in tranquility they lazed there for what could have been hours just as easily as it could have been minutes, time having long lost all meaning to those within the room as they silently enjoyed the moment of bliss they were entrapped within, many seeming fit to fall asleep if they had not already done so, that is until Persephone shifted ever so slightly so that she now was supporting herself with one arm as her other gently caressed Coquelic’s side. 

“Oh?” Coquelic raised a brow as she looked at the Chief with a smirk forming on her face, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she felt dexterous fingers caress her ribs for just a moment before they leaned up to lightly brush the side of her breast, moving further up to ghost over her pulse, pausing for but the briefest of moments to feel the beating of her heart before resuming their journey to cup her cheek.  

The Mentor’s eyes slowly opened, her gaze locking with Persephone’s own, silently gazing at her for several moments before she began to lean up, allowing for the chief to slip a hand under her upper body as their lips met, their kiss was slow and tender, Coquelic taking care to gently seize the chief’s bottom lips with her teeth and lightly nip as it before she pulled back, a thin strand of saliva connecting them for but the briefest of moment before it fell away.

Already Coquelic could hear her Flowers begin to shift and stir, moving to herd the young pens away even as they giggled at the scene of their mentor begin to flush as desire began to pulse through her body, the other elders on the bed moving to join in as well as Gekkabijin sighed before she rose from the bed, offering a kiss to her Mentor’s cheeks before she moved to help herd the younger ones before she would return to join in what was to come.

The mood in the room began to shift, the Flowers eyes darkening as they began to move to gather around their Mentor, Sumire already leaning down to place her own lips Persephone’s head, taking a deep breath of her scent as she began to reach out to tilt her head up so she could kiss her as well.

At the same time, Garofano, torn between trailing kisses up her Mentor’s legs until she was near enough to her center to savor her scent and taste, or pulling Persephone down and into her arms once Sumire was finished with her so that Sumrie and her Mentor could have some time together, found her gaze flickering between each of the women above her as a pit of hunger and desire began to grow in her stomach.

Though all such movements paused as Persephone leaned down once more to nip at Coquelic’s ear, her tongue lightly caressing it for several moments as her other hand began moving to go under the Poppy of the Garden, Coquelic raising herself up just enough for the hand to slip under her and cup her rear, the Mentor letting out a sigh of pleasure as Persephone leaned in to her ear once more, before she stage whispered to her-

“Sorry about this.” Persephone breathed out, causing all to pause in their actions and look at her in confusion, Coquelic raising a brow and opening her mouth to query just what it was the chief was sorry for, only to be cut off as she continued.

“But I was told flowers need to be watered, and that you needed some exercise.”

“What are you-” But barely had the words left a confused Coquelic’s lips before-

“And I have heard that swimming is a wonderful exercise!” 

And with her words said, and a twinkle in her eye, Persephone shifted herself just enough to-

A loud splash echoed in the now dead silent room, the young members that had yet to be shepherded out and the elder members all gaping in silent shock as they saw the Chief flee the room with speed that far exceeded what they thought her weary form could muster, the doors flying open with a resounding *Bang* as they collided with the walls for a moment before closing once more.

Once the echoes of the doors banging open had died down, there came forth an oppressive silence that suffocated all those present to such an extent that none dared to even breathe, indeed they dared not to even move as the sound of water splashing broke the silence.

 Coquelic slowly rose from the pool that she had been flung into, her white lingerie soaked through such that all was visible to the naked eye, from the mound of her sex to even the pink of her areola and nipples were visible if one were to focus, her poppy ornament was resting lower on her damp hair than it once was, and said hair hung over her head like a wet curtain of white. 

Slowly, and with a visible tremble to her movement, Coquelic lifted up her hand and brushed her hair to the side, delicately tucking it behind her ears and revealing a scene that had the younger members fleeing with as much speed as they could, even the elder members found themselves torn between fleeing into cover or remaining where they were in hopes of being ignored by the threat before them.

For there, upon the Poppy of the Garden’s face was a smile, a wide and beautiful thing that showed off her white teeth and sharp canines, and yet such menace was there radiating from that expression that none could bring themselves to breathe once they gazed upon it, least of all when they took notice of their Mentor’s eyes being ever so gently closed as her body trembled in incandescent fury. 

“My darling Flowers,” the words were spoken as softly and delicately as a petal blowing in a breeze, so delicate and gentle that if one were not in possession of senses as heightened as those of the Flowers, they would be unable to register but the faintest of exhales.

There was a brief pause, as a stillness before a storm, the faint breath of their beloved Mentor that of the first breeze of what would soon become a hurricane, the gentle caress that carried upon it the aroma of death and destruction soon to be made reality as nature unleashed its wrath. 

And then the stillness vanished as the storm broke. 

Not with a bang, nor with a boom came forth the storm, no, instead its arrival was heralded by red eyes opening as twin scarlet stars as there once more came forth that gentle voice, though now it came not as petals in a breeze, but as the breeze of death itself.

“Get her.”

The doors were once more flung open as the Garden vanished through them in blurs that the naked eye could not track, their Mentor joining them after, in a blur of movement to fast for the eye to track, she grabbed a dry robe of a darker color and threw it over her drenched attire, the process taking her not but a few seconds before she joined her Flowers in the hunt.

Line Break

It said a great deal that this was not the craziest idea that Persephone had ever had.

Indeed, compared to facing down Corpseborn armed with nothing but her Potestats, Shackles, that she was barely skilled with at the time, and two Sinners that had no reason being on the battlefield at all and instead should have been in a classroom or bundled up in their rooms, throwing someone into a pool was actually relatively tame.

That the ‘someone’ in question was the Mentor of the Garden and one of the most lethal S-Rank Sinners in all of Dis, especially given the effectiveness of the most recent treatments in regards to her mania, was where the madness of this idea came from.

In her own defense however, she was not particularly well known for her ideas being what one would refer to as sane on a good day, and when one factored in that she had been too busy to do anything other than binge on caffeine and crash when it ran out for several days as she coped with stress levels that rivaled the mania levels of a Black Ring, it was really no surprise that she would wind up in a situation like this.

Granted, at least a small portion of responsibility had to be laid at the feet of Dr. Iron, as if she had not been griping to Anne about how Coquelic had been neglecting exercising in favor of lounging around in her room, then the idea would not have come to her.

Of course, the fact that she wanted to get some manner of revenge on Conquelic for her having put a collar that read ‘Property of The Garden: Hush Do Not Touch,’ that she had been unable to remove for several days, alongside of the rather sizable amount of marks that had been left on her just before an important meeting, was likewise a factor into her decision.

Granted she was also just feeling like fucking with the Garden a bit before they actually got to fucking.

With a shake of her head, Persephone jolted herself from her thoughts as she quickly dived into a hallway, whirling about on her heel to fling open a door to temporarily bar her pursuers path, an indignant squawk echoing behind her as someone rammed into the door. 

Seeing the hallways splitting in 2 ahead of her, Persephone quickly darted down the right path, the sign reading ‘Common Area’ giving her an idea, one that very soon proved to make many more members of the Garden let out yelps and cries of indignation and pain, some even ceasing the chase for a few moments as they tried to ease the aches that overwhelmed them. 

The cause?

Persephone leading them straight into a field of building blocks, well known for the pain stepping on them caused, that Oliver and Letta were using to build houses for their plush animals, the pair barely having time to blink as the Chief kicked over one of the containers of blocks they had asked KawaKawa to bring them, just as she leaped over another one, whirling about to kick it over as well, before she dashed out the open door, nearly bowling over a returning KawaKawa in the process.

The trio paused for just a second before the door was flung open and the room filled with not only colored blurs and the scent of flowers, but also cries and howls of indignation that were joined with promises of vengeance as the Flowers continued their chase.

Though there were a few Flowers that broke off, pausing the hunt to help clear the way for the rest of their fellows and their Mentor to spare them the pain they went through, said Mentor and their fellows offering them  respectful nods that none but they could see as they tore through the room a split second later. 

Yet those that managed to avoid the hell of the building blocks were not spared the next torment the Chief had in store for them, for they had barely turned the corner in their pursuit when they noticed that the sprinklers were active in the hallway.

High speed movement met with slick floors and walls in a terrific display of chaos as several younger members were sent spiraling across the floor in indignant heaps, picking themselves up with curses grumbled under their breath as they tried to regain their footing and resume the chase, some of their senior fellowship causing to assist them in their efforts. 

Most found themselves hauled to their feet by a blur of white as their Mentor seized their hands and lifted them to their feet faster than they could blink one after the other, never once breaking her own momentum as the chase soon resumed in full. 

The next obstacle in their chase soon revealed itself, for now the hallway led to a storage area for recreational goods for the various Common Room and such that filled the prison, boxes and crates piled high with empty pallets resting against them, the towers casting ominous shadows under the flickering lights.

Under normal circumstances, this would be a playground for assassins.

However, with the Chief dodging and weaving between towers of crates and boxes, all while slamming pallets down behind her and occasionally knocking over the less fragile items, such as a tower of surplus pillows used during movie nights, on her pursuers, it soon became a nightmare.

And then several members had the brilliant idea of leaping atop the boxes and crates, trying to pounce down on their prey like a cat would a mouse, only to encounter another issue, that being that not all of the towers were exactly stable and thus it soon became a game of trying not to cause a domino effect that would take out both sides as they had to pause or stop the towers before they could fall before they rejoined the chase. 

How long they spent dodging pallets and falling towers, or digging their fellows out of piles of stuffed animals and pillows, they had no true way of knowing, only that at some point the speakers had come alive with an announcement that echoed across the Prison.

“To all personnel, this is Adjutant Nightingale, please be advised that the Chief is currently engaged in a pursuit with the members of the Garden. While I have no knowledge of how this chase occurred, it is safe to assume that she has done something to warrant this chase. That said, please do not interfere in the ongoing pursuit and allow for nature to run its course.” 

Persephone’s cry of ‘Traitor’ as she ducked into a slide under a tower before bolting out the door, was soon drowned out by the sound of what seemed to be someone laughing hysterically over the intercoms.

Said laughter soon growing to near hysterical levels as they arrived in the hallways near what the sinners and Staff had come to call the Bazaar, a makeshift marketplace ran by Sinners and staff alike, with lifts allowing for one to traverse to the upper layers and the multicolored tents and stalls, it seemed as though a miniature version of the Drifter’s Camp had been remade within the Prison.

Despite what one would think, Persephone had not been the one to create the sprawling marketplace, made of renovated cells converted to stores and tents, instead it seemed to have simply cropped up overnight at the hands of Sinners and staff alike, and with so many high profile Sinners backing it, along with her own boss, Persephone had allowed it to continue to exist, the place growing into what it was today.

And now the bustling marketplace found a storm sweeping through it.

 Sinners and staff alike paused in what they were doing, both as a result of the message over the intercoms and as they saw the Chief run as though a legion of the Apostles of Ashes were on their heels, dodging and weaving around the various stalls and carts that some Sinners had set up as their own businesses and the Sinners and staff themselves in their flight.

As she deftly spun the dumbfounded form of Oak Casket, who had been talking to Dudu as they enjoyed some kebabs that had been made by one of their fellow Sinners but a moment earlier,  and placing her in the path of the storm as Persephone plucked the kebab from Oak’s hand as she continued her flight. 

The lady of the Romanesque Hall had barely had time to look at Dudu, her mouth opening to ask just what it was that had just occurred, before she found herself watching as blurs passed her by, the smell of flowers enveloping her alongside of the yelps of the stall owner as he found many of his kebabs plucked from him by the group, though a violet colored blur at least left him some Discoins to cover the kebabs.

Slowly blinking, Oak turned to look at Dudu and once more began to open her mouth to speak, only for a blur of white to race past her, seizing a kebab for herself and leaving some Discoins of her own, as the trio of the stall owner, Oak, and Dudu simply silently blinked at the scene for a moment before Oak reached out and plucked the last kebab for herself, the owner simply allowing her to as he tried to process just what had happened.

Soon they were joined in their confusion by Adela, who had been walking to her salon with Crache trailing behind her, or rather Crache was being dragged by Raven who was lecturing her in regards to how her hair was a mess of split ends and tangles due to her avoiding the Salon for so long.

That Crache had yet to slip away via her shadow manipulation was of course in no way related to the promise of a special new doll that the Bird Brained Journalist of Rustfire had made by Garofano especially for her.

Of course not, she simply had nothing else to do at the moment and wanted to get the bird brain off her case, not because she wanted a doll of-

“Sorry!” 

“Wha-”

The trio had barely had time to register the familiar voice of Persephone apologizing for something, Crache having barely opened her mouth to ask what was going on, before she barreled through where they had been standing a moment ago nearly bowling them over had they not leapt out to the sides Crache pulling Raven down and onto the ground with her while Adela remained standing.

Crache found herself turning to look at Raven and Adela, the three sharing an open mouthed look of confusion for a moment before they found themselves swarmed by a blur of colors and scents, one of which passed by Crache close enough for a voice to fleetingly whisper into her ear-

“I hope you like the doll.”

Before they passed them by completely in their pursuit. 

For a moment the three simply looked in the direction that the fleeting blurs and the chief had gone, before Adela managed to regain her composure and help the pair to their feet, softly murmuring under her breath as she faced the direction the storm had gone.

“I believe we now know what the announcement was about…Miss Inspector, what did you do this time?”

The thought of simply stealing the doll and returning to her room was more tempting than ever to Crache at that moment…though the idea of following along and watching the chaos was also tempting.

Of course, the bird had to start dragging her again as she mumbled under her breath about the articles she was going to be penning later on. 

She really should have just stolen the damn doll. 

And why could she hear someone eating popcorn over the intercoms!?

In The Command Center

Of course she had no way of knowing that the command center of the bureau was currently watching the scene of the chief blitzing across the bazaar with the Garden in hot pursuit, several sinners that had been nearby doing various tasks having dropped in to watch the show as well. 

Nightingale had her face in her palms as she peaked through her fingers at the scene of her superior, watching as she ducked over a stand that was selling records and tapes of bands both current and long passed, Joan and Peggy diving to the sides as the Chief nearly bowled into them in her mad dash. 

The pair had barely gotten to their feet before they had to dive back down for cover as the Garden passed over them, Peggy having stood to start yelling at them before a white blur seemed to leap atop her shoulders and then launch off them and over the stall, sending the rapper sprawling back onto the ground in the process. 

Snickers and outright laughter rang through the room at the scene, said laughter only growing as the Chief’s next stunt was to seize Hella, who had been arguing with EMP over something trivial while Ninety-Nine watched on as she munched on a slice of watermelon, and then toss the pipe wielding regenerator in the direction of the Garden.

That she had the audacity to say “Go get the Hella, Ninety-Nine,” as though the now currently screaming Sinner was a stick and the dumbfounded berserker was a dog only furthered the laughter, especially when said berserker indeed charged after her sun, forcing the Garden to part like the Red Sea so as to avoid being trampled by her. 

Hella’s indignant scream was drowned out by the laughter that echoed within the Command Center, granted that was not the only sound that drowned out the screech, as there was also-

*Crunch*

Nightingale let out a low groan as she turned her head to see the form of Shalom calmly sitting in a chair and watching the screen, a small bowl of popcorn resting on her lap that she was snacking on as she watched the screen with rapt attention. 

Where she had obtained it, Nightingale had no idea, though she suspected the form of Rahu, who was standing behind Shalom, was at least partly to blame for it, though it could have likewise been Faye, who was also busy cackling with delight as Persephone pulled off a surprising feat of acrobatics by leaping off one of the platform and landing on the one across from it, tucking into a roll that she soon sprung up from to resume her sprint. 

“You have to admit,” came the amused voice of Langley, who had taken a seat and was watching the show that was playing out on the screen as well, “the rookie has some decent moves.” 

The spider chuckled to herself as she saw said Rookie make another dash for the edge of the platform, this time latching onto a pipe and sliding down it, launching herself off when she reached the base and seizing onto another one that she dropped down from and onto the edge of another platform that she dropped from and onto the one below it, quickly bolting once more. 

“Do we know what she did to get the Garden after her like this?” Cinnabar asked from where she was standing beside Nightingale, seemingly trying to avoid looking directly at the screen for longer than a few moments as she tried to maintain her own professional persona and not give in to the desire to either laugh at her superior’s antics or go and assist her in escaping the Storm pursuing her. 

“Not at the moment, no. But knowing her it had to be something that warrants this.” Nightingale said in answer, sighing at the end as she saw Persephone race through a tent where Serpent had been putting on a performance, emerging from the other end a second later with a rather large snake sticking its head out of the opening as if to curse at her before it turned back around.

That said movement coincided with several of the Garden’s Flowers lunging out of other openings in the tent or making their own as they broke off from the hunt and picked up the pace until they were certain they were away from the main tent before they returned to the chase, was surely neither here nor there. 

“Should I go and help the Chief?” Came the ever so calm voice of Hecate, the young woman having found herself stopped from aiding her Chief previously by Nightingale, the Adjutant claiming that the Chief needed to learn her lesson.

Though she did not understand what the lesson was and why it involved the Chief being chased, she had been told it was for the Chief’s own good and she had been barred from leaving when she tried earlier, and as such resolved herself to simply watching the screen and waiting to see if she would be needed. 

Though perhaps now was her chance to be of use and earn praise from the Chief and perhaps even a head-

“No, she made her bed, let her lie in it.” Langley said from where she was sitting, with Nightingale and Shalom voicing their own agreements soon thereafter, the words making Hecate turn her gaze downwards as she let out a quiet “oh,” before she found herself feeling a hand patting her head.

Blinking in confusion, even as she enjoyed the action though it did not come from her Chief, she looked up to see Zoya smiling down at her, the Wolf Of Syndicate ruffling her hair a bit more before she lifted her hand up and pulled the smaller sinner against her with a one armed embrace, Hecate silently enjoying the contact as Zoya took in the scene on the screen. 

“The twig’s detective,” Shalom did not deign to respond to the nickname with anything but a faux smile, “managed to get in touch with her lover in the Garden,” Zoya continued as she moved into the room, guiding Hecate to sit beside her as she took a seat, resting her boots on the desk in front of her, much to Nightingale’s annoyance.

 “Apparently the Chief decided to have some fun by tossing their boss into a pool and then bolting, the only reason she was able to learn that is because her girl was one of the ones in charge of herding their brats.” Zoya finished, her lips forming into an amused grin as she saw the way everyone in the room went still, several soon giving way to chuckles and outright laughter as others, such as Nightingale, facepalmed even harder. 

The sight of Shalom freezing in place, a piece of popcorn falling from her hand and onto her dress as Rahu turned her head to the side, her shoulders shaking as she fought the urge to laugh, was something Zoya would recall for years to come. 

The dumbfounded look Hecate was giving her would be equally as treasured. 

“Why Persphone…just…why?” Nightingale managed to choke out as Langley succumbed to laughter, throwing her head back and laughing with delight, her hat almost slipping onto the ground had Hecate not caught it for her and placed it back on her head.

Yet Zoya soon found her own laughter interrupted as she heard Shalom, having let out a few delicate chuckles of her own as she sorted her thoughts, speak up towards her, the woman’s eyes as cold an iced razor blade as they met her own.

“And why is it that Christina would be in contact with you?” The joviality in the room, even with the scene of the Chief spilling several buckets of paint that Lisa was using as she made a painting of the bazaar, and her promptly dodging a bucket the painter had thrown at her as McQueen tried to restrain her, failed to stifle the intensity of the sudden query, an intense bubble forming around them as they met each others gazes, the rest, bar a few, still lost in humorous 

That Rahu had ceased her battle with laughter in favor of turning an inquisitive stare towards her as well, her hands clenching ever so slightly as she eyed the wolf, only further heightened the tension in their small bubble. 

Yet instead of displaying any form of unease, Zoya instead smirked at the former Hush and her bodyguard, casually reclining in the chair as she turned her gaze to the screen, her smile widening as she saw the chief call out to Horo and have her toss her back on to one of the upper platforms of the bazaar, the lack of an answer making Shalom and Rahu narrow their eyes at her before she at last replied. 

“Well, your little detective wanted some advice on how to treat her girlfriend, and decided that I was a better source of it than you. After all, I don’t need a special power to get someone in my bed.” Zoya could not stop her smile from growing as she saw Shalom tense and narrow her gaze at her.

For a moment, there was silence as the former Hush of Paradeisos and the Wolf of Syndicate met each others gazes, before at last Shalom offered a faux smile once again, her frigid gaze developing a hint of something that Zoya could not name as she turned back to the screen, speaking so softly Zoya was certain only her and Rahu could hear it, Hecate likely being unable to as she fought to keep Langley from falling from her chair. 

“Oh Chris, you and I are going to need to have a chat aren’t we.” Her words, made Zoya feel slightly worried for the detective, though she soon found her attention shifting back to the screen as she saw the Chief-

Both the Wolf and the Hush joined the Spider and the Adjutant, along with all of the others present within the Command Center, in gaping at the screen, Hecate being stopped but by Nightingale and Langley having firms grips on her shoulders as they all saw the scene of-

The Bazaar.

It is not everyday a chance like this comes, a moment in time where one is permitted to witness one of the most sublime and wondrous scenes that the natural world has to offer, especially within a jungle of concrete and steel.

Already those that had gathered to watch the scene in awe had begun to record and make note of this momentous occasion, for they were among the most privileged and honored few that were permitted to see this magnificent sight before them. 

And such a scene it was!

For there before their eyes was a species of Homo Sapiens that most did not believe to exist, indeed there was before them a breathtaking view of a Wild Woman of Minos, her hair blowing backwards as she swung across a great ravine upon a length of colored cloth, her lips parted as she gave voice to the mating cry of her people.

“Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” 

Ah, such a wondrous sound it was!

Indeed, she continued her mating cries even as she let go of the length of cloth and landed on the platform below her, tucking into a roll and springing up into a sprint as she bolted down a nearby hallway, many cheering her display of acrobatics as her mates echoed her cries and began finding ways down to pursue her.

Though a white blur simply leaped across the divide and mimicked Persephone’s earlier movements of tucking into a roll before springing up and resuming the chase, her fellows already on her heels. 

Ah, the wonders of nature.

At the same moment as the gathered Sinners and staff were ruminating on the wondrous sight they had just been witness to, Persephone had barely rounded one of the corners when she noted the form of Hamel walking towards her.

Seemingly lost in her own world, as was the norm for the first recorded sinner, though her eyes gained a light to them as she beheld the chief racing towards her, though it was soon swallowed by confusion as Persephone passed her by, only managed to give voice to-

“Sorry Hamel, I’ll dance with you later, have to run right now bye!” 

Before she resumed her mad sprint. 

The first recorded sinner simply blinking in confusion as she saw the chief continue racing down the hallway, her keen ears registering the sound of Lynn and Deren letting out twin yelps as they were almost bowled over as they left the room they had been taking her pictures in, before the noise was eclipsed as a storm of colors and flowery fragrances enveloped her. 

For a moment she simply stood there and tried to process what she had seen, only to shake her head as she decided to head off to the cafeteria, her curiosity drowned out by the promise of ice cream that Deren had made her. 

Already she could hear the director and the photographer hurrying to catch up with her, the pair's conversation on what was going on was drowned out by her own thoughts on whether she should try a new flavor today or not.

A rather loud crash that echoed from a distant corridor jolted her for but a moment, long enough for her to silently pray that her dance partner would survive whatever it was that they had brought down upon themselves this time before she resumed her trek.

 Said crash having originated from the Chief having toppled over a stack of boxes to try and buy herself some time, quickly darting through a side door and taking off at a sprint down another hallway, though soon she found herself stopping as she almost ran headfirst into a wall. 

Eyes widening, Persephone began to look around for any potential escape routes that she could find, only to be met with nothing but smooth walls, and a growing smell of flowers.

“Well���shit.” Persephone mumbled under her breath, her worries amplified as a reply echoed down the corridor in the form of-

“Indeed, my dear little Chief.” 

Gulping slightly, she turned to see the form of Coquelic standing at the end of the hallway, smiling at her as she began to advance towards her, the lights and her hair casting her face in shadows as she advanced. 

Beyond her, Persephone noticed the Garden having cut off any potential retreat, many looking winded, many more looking irritated at her due to her stunts, and some were looking at her with what could best be described as a mixture of satisfaction at catching her, and pity at what was to come as Coquelic seized her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her to meet her gaze as she leaned in.

“Do you have anything you want to say my dear Flower?” Coquelic purred to her, lips delicately ghosting her ear for but a second before she pulled back to meet her gaze, her hands shifting such that one rested on her cheek and the other on her neck, scarlet eyes boring into hers for several moments as she patiently awaited her reply, nails lightly digging into her skin as the Mentor thrummed her fingers against her neck as she awaited her reply. 

Taking a moment to gather herself and steel her resolve, the Chief of Minos offered Coquelic her best smile as she wrapped her arms around her and gave her a tight hug as she leaned in to place her lips against her ear as she whispered to her.

“Before you punish me, I have one thing to say,” She breathed, sin coating her voice near the end, her smile softening as she felt the way Coquelic relaxed and leaned into her embrace on instinct, the scent of sweat and the floral of a flowers whose name it seemed none knew that oft clung to the Chief gracing the Mentor as she waited for her to continue. 

“You always look so beautiful when you are soaking wet. I wonder, are you still wet for me?” Her words made the Flowers gape at her, with Sumire placing her face in her palms as Garofano began to chuckle, both them and their fellows wearing the beginnings of a blush on their faces as they silently agreed with Persephone’s words. 

For a moment there was silence, and then it died as Coquelic wordlessly tightened her grip on the Chief, leaning in to let her lips ghost against her ear once more as she spoke aloud for all to hear in a faux whisper.

“Oh my dear, I hope your schedule is clear for…hmmm…what do you all say, the next 4 days or so sound good?” Her words made Persephone gulp slightly, as she saw the gleam that came alight in the eyes of each of the Flowers, each of them sharing a silent conversation with each other in glances before Garofano spoke up on their behalf.

“Let’s make it an even week, shall we Mentor? After all, our dear Chief is going to be a very busy bee and is going to need quite the time to recover.” The smile she wore was as sin coated as the words that flowed from her lips, her pupils were blown as idea after idea played through her mind, each one more delicious than the last. 

Persephone felt herself pale slightly when she saw the way Garofano licked her lips as she eyed her, Sumire blushing scarlet next to her as her own thoughts began to run wild as well, with Gekkabijin giving voice to the Flowers thoughts as they began to enclose around her. 

“Don’t worry Chief, we’ll be gentle…for now.” 

The laughter of the Flowers drowned out Persephone’s cries for mercy as she was spirited away to the Garden’s chambers once more, not to emerge for many a long day, though at the very least, she was able to insure that herself and Coquelic got the exercise they needed. 

Something that was readily apparent when she was found tucked into her bed by Nightingale, her freshly sewn clothes resting on top of her dresser with intricate designs of various flowers stitched into them alongside of the repair work needed to make them wearable once more after the Garden had torn them from her form.

Of course, it was not just flowers that were stitched into the clothes, for there, sewn into the collar of her shirt and again into the rear of her pants, was something that made Nightingale sigh upon seeing them as she put the clothes up for Persephone. 

The stitching that elicited the response? 

“Property of The Garden.”

Upon learning of said writing Langley managed to make a not so small amount of discoins, enough to fill her hat near to the brim, as a result of several bets she had made in the Command Center, a more than fitting final blessing to mark the end of the great Garden Chase of the MBCC. 

Line Break

A low sigh left Christina’s lips as she entered her room, one hand beginning to search for her lightswitch as the other began to pull her deerstalker hat from her head and rest it on a-

“Hello Chris.” 

Christina would swear to her final breath that she had not screamed when the voice suddenly cut through the gloom and caressed her ears, she had merely released a sound of surprise at the shock of hearing the oh so familiar voice echo from within her room. 

Gulping as she felt her blood begin to run cold, Christina turned to where the voice had come from, hearing the sudden *Click* of a lamp being turned on, the light illuminated the form of Shalom sitting in a chair beside her desk, the detective's spare coat resting on her lap as Shalom’s own coat was draped over her shoulders. 

Now, while the sight of shalom being in her quarters was already cause for slight concern in the detective, it was the gleam in her eyes that made her truly certain that this was not going to be a pleasant experience for her, something that was further cemented as she felt the towering form of Rahu rest her hand on her shoulder from behind her, somehow having snuck up on her without her knowledge. 

“I believe we need to have a little chat about your choice in sources of advice for dating, now don’t we my dear detective?” 

It was a faux question, the smile that did not quite reach her eyes and the way she was looking at her told her all she needed to know, and yet still the valiant detective was not one to go down without a fight, and so she summoned forth her resolve and courageously spoke aloud-

“Thistle was the one to make the claim about you needing to use your power on people to make them fall in love with you, and she was also the one to recommend we go to someone else like Zoya for advice since neither of us really know anything about this, and she was also the one who suggested we go to those with more experience before we try anything and-”

Her valiant efforts to throw her lover under the bus and spare herself a lecture were rewarded with a low chuckle from Shalom, the former Hush patting her lap as she smiled at Christina, Rahu letting go of her shoulder and allowing for her to move to sit on the ground beside Shalom and rest her head on her lap, silently accepting her fate.

“Oh I know my dear, she and I are going to have a conversation later on regarding the matter, but for now,” Shalom delicately lifted Christina’s head to where their eyes could meet, before she continued, “We are going to have a conversation about courtship and the necessity of obtaining said information from a trusted and reliable source.” 

Christina knew she was doomed, especially when she saw Shalom lift up her tablet and turn it so that they could both face it, the image depicted on it making her squeak and Rahu choke out a yelp of her own. 

“Let’s start with the ins and outs of flirting shall we? We will be using Rahu and myself as the study material so please pay close attention Chris, there will be a test afterwards.” As though her words had not made her pale and Rahu blush enough, the way she looked over her shoulder at her shadow covered bed, smiling as she called out-

“That goes for you as well my dear Thistle, I need to know you can be trusted with My Detective, after all.” 

Her heart now beginning to hammer in her chest and her blood running as frigid as the arctic, Christina turned to look beyond Shalom, and realized that there, bound on her bed like a trussed up turkey, was her girlfriend.

The same girlfriend she had just thrown under a bus to try and evade this lecture. 

‘Well…I’m fucked.’ The detective thought to herself, only for her thoughts to seemingly be read by the woman whose lap her head was resting on as she spoke up with that same gentle and loving voice that Chris had come to cherish over their time together as she carded her fingers through her hair. 

“We will cover proper and safe sexual intercourse and aftercare at a later date my dear,” Rahu let out a yelp of shock at the same time Chris and thistle did the same, well as much of a yelp as one with a gag shaped like an apple could in Thistle’s case. 

That Shalom looked down at her and, with a wondrous smile on her face, proceeded to tell her, “Oh, and I will be there to supervise you two during that practical exam as well Chris, Rahu will be there as well so don’t worry. I have already planned out a demonstration for you, perhaps I will be able to coerce Coquelic into assisting with it as well come that time…hmmm…” Shalom trailed off for a moment, perhaps unaware or uncaring of the sanguine blush adorning the faces of the other women in the room. 

“Now then, let’s start with ‘Establishing a Dialogue for Romance’ shall we?” Shalom smiled again as she resumed stroking Chris’s hair as though she was an extremely terrified kitten, as she pressed the play button on a video of her and Rahu.

Silently, Chris cursed the Wolf of Syndicate, and she knew that Thistle shared her sentiments, perhaps Rahu did as well given the atomic blush she wore and the way she seemed to be doing her damndest to blend in with the shadows and avoid starting at the terminal in Shalom’s hands. 

As the video began to play, Chris knew that she was in for a long and painful ride, but at least she would not be suffering alone. 

Fin

The English name for the Gekkabajin flower that is Gekka’s namesake. 

Well my friends, this makes it 3 acts this play of ours has been going on for, each relatively short by our standards…so how about we spice things up a bit with the next chapter eh?

It will likely take quite a while for us to complete it, and for that we apologize, but we hope to see you all there when it comes time for the curtain to rise on that part of the story.

With all of that said, we would like to give a huge shoutout to JimBoReee on Ao3 for their wonderful opinions and thoughts on this chapter, they are as always a godsend and we encourage you all to go and take a look at their works when you get the chance. 

Till next time, stay safe and take care. 

[lulivalu]

my baby girl (40 year old woman in mourning)

[roysristi]

They are sure having their sweet time in the middle of all the chaos...

[shrimshrim4fun]

This Garofano birthday art is doing something to me and I like it very much 🤤 She’s so pretty. Her waist looks so god damn grabable I can not. I want to hug her from behind and nuzzle into her neck, my hands resting underneath her tits. She looks absolutely stunning and I need her to choke me with that measuring tape of hers or anything

[karnzteinz]

"Just for today, you can be the spoiled one" CocoGaro comic

[bunnivez]

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ´ˎ˗

⟡ ݁₊ . Waking up early in the morning, you notice a nicely wrapped box with a pretty bow, on top of it— laid a nicely folded letter with your name on it. Upon inspecting the mysterious gift; you came to a realization of who the gift is from. Your heart flutters with warmth, it seems your lover didn’t forget.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Dear (Y/n), Merry Christmas to my pretty girl, hopefubly you didn't think I'd forget to get you a present. Honestly I feel kinda corny doing this, i'm not really used to it but 1 figured it would bring a smile to your face. Hopefully you like my gift, I actually made it myself. It took me hours, deadass; but you know i'll do anything for my baby.. Love, Zoya

You giggled softly at your girlfriend’s letter before unwrapping the small pretty box. You were met with a hard cover purple box this time, and inside it contained a beautiful handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors. It was honestly surprising to know Zoya made it, you’d think it would end up messy but it was actually the opposite. Well, you have to give her credit; she is a fast learner.

As you put on the bracelet you notice a small note at the bottom of the box; I’ll be picking you up at 2, make sure to wear something warm and easy to move on.! What does she have planned?

Dear (Y/n), Merry Christmas Princess! I Really hope you like my present, I thought it would look cute on you and it's really helpful, especially in this weather. Apart from that, it will come in handly later for what I have planned. I'll be picking you up around 11; pretty early, I know, but I promise it will be worth it, you'll see.. Love, Cinnabar

Your lips parted slightly as you read the letter; a date??? You set the letter aside and unwrapped the box. Inside contained a lovely fluffy sweater of your favorite color(s). It was very pretty and warm, Cinnabar was right, it looks very helpful with the cold weather. However, what exactly is the occasion?

You took some time thinking until you remembered. She mentioned once about wanting to ride her horse with you on a snowy day, specifically at a park she knew where the view was beautiful. You quickly get ready with a huge smile on your face.

Merry Christmas to my sweet angel <3 I hope you like my gift, I made it just for you, it took me hours but it was all worth it, especially when I know it will bring a smile to that sweet face of yours. I love you so much baby, and I hope my present brings you some comfort for when you need it and i’m not there. Once again, Merry Christma, angel… with lots of love and kisses, Garofano

You smiled as you read the letter, her handwriting was neat and beautiful, you’ll save it like the other letters she has written you. The way that even through letter— she still calls you her angel. Your eyes looked at the pretty, purple with green stripes box with a nice white ribbon on it. As you held the box, you realized it was pretty light, it didn’t make much noise either when you shook it.

Lifting the lid, you quickly gasp and take out the hand made gift Garofano made. It was a plushie of you! It looked so cute and silly; she added a lot of detail to the outfit. You hugged the plushie happily before whipping out your phone and sending a picture of you holding the plushie to Garofano, letting her know just how happy her present made you.

Меrry Christmas baby! Im your dear sweet santa clause this Christmas ho ho ho :p. You know, photos are very impertant. They capture and freeze moments and carry many memories. I sound really poetic now, but in sure you can already guess what I got you. Hopefully with this we can capture happy moments of our own… Love, Deren

You giggled and neatly folded the letter. Your girlfriend had a way of bringing humor even in letters and it always made you crack a smile. You opened the box, first undoing the pink ribbon. Inside the box laid two items, a Polaroid camera which you first notice, and a hard cover book. You smiled in excitement and grab the book first, opening it to see the first page covered in pictures of you and Deren— taken by herself.

As you turned the other pages, the rest were left blank. You glanced at the polaroid camera, Deren left the rest for you to fill on your own. Capture the happy moments in life and glue it all in the book to look back to. Oh once she comes back theres no way you will let her go.

────୨ৎ────

©bunnivez — do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my works without my permission.

[bearakero]

heart's lament

[ptn-imagines]

Can I request hcs for Garofano with a F!Chief who has very soft spot for her? Normally Chief is pretty strict and don't really bend the rules but she developed deep feelings for her and it shows as she sometimes pretends not to see her breaking the rules. Thank you!!!

Ah, Garofano. Like all the adult members of the Garden, I'm besotted with her -- and I also happen to think she looks really good with her hair down and covered in blood. Needless to say, I liked her interrogation. Enjoy your headcanons!

Strict F!Chief who has a soft spot for Garofano

While Chief is still known for her kindness, she is also known for her strictness. She’s far from cruel, but she doesn’t really tolerate breaches of the rules or pointless messing about.

It doesn’t matter who you are – B-Ranks and S-Ranks are treated the same. There is no difference between a Sinner who has been at the Bureau for years versus one who was detained yesterday, save for some official lifting of sanctions the former might have acquired through being on their best behavior.

Even someone like Hella has to be very careful with what boundaries she pushes. Chief isn’t afraid to discipline her Sinners, though not in an unkind or disproportionate way. She’s just… stern. Some of the Sinners find it endearing.

Of course, this strictness just makes it more obvious when the Chief allows one particular Sinner to bend the rules – Garofano.

Though her interactions with the assassin seem quite ordinary, closer scrutiny will reveal that it’s not what she does, but what she doesn’t do. Garofano seems to be able to break the rules with impunity (as long as it concerns Chief; Nightingale still has no problems with disciplining her).

The tailor isn’t a particularly disorderly sort, which probably helps the Chief with overlooking her transgressions. For Garofano, “rule-breaking” mostly consists of being in out-of-bounds areas, or lingering out past curfew on a dispatch mission.

Not so long ago, a simple dispatch mission that Garofano, Coquelic and Sumire had been sent on due to their relevant skills had lasted until well after midnight. Such an incident should’ve warranted thorough questioning about their whereabouts if not stricter punishment, and indeed, when she looked at Sumire and Coquelic, the Chief was frowning. Then, her eyes fell upon Garofano, and her stern expression melted. She didn’t question them at all, simply muttering that it was late and they should get to bed right away with no detours if they weren’t hurt.

Garofano herself doesn’t have much of a proclivity for mischief, but she’s able to bargain for some protection for the more troublemaking members of her family – mostly Coquelic and Gekkabijin. It’s common custom for a Garden member to recruit Garofano into their hijinks if they’re planning on getting into trouble, since even if all she does is smile and sweet talk the Chief a little, it can protect them from all but the most serious of transgressions.

A lot of Sinners are envious of Garofano, and a lot of staff are exasperated by how soft the Chief is on her. However, pretty much everyone who isn’t aggressively territorial over the Chief agrees that they hope something comes of the likely-mutual feelings between Garofano and the Chief. The latter is always so tense all the time; surely having a girlfriend would be good for her to relax. And as far as Sinners go, Garofano was one of the less out-there choices, as long as you were willing to overlook her profession… and Chief clearly was.

[crguang]

beneath it all, you

“Since I’ve met you, I've felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all I ever dream of, the only thing.” in which garofano finds her equal <3

established relationship, fem!reader (r is explicitly referred to as “girl” a few times), smut, oral sex (garo receiving), fingering (r receiving), some praise because i’m me, uhh age gap, r has very sharp teeth and is normal about cannibalism as a metaphor for undying devotion, 7.7k words

A/N: this is not kafka but i swear she’s coming next… this was for me and like 2 mutuals but i figured why not post it here for the ptn community on tumblr. who doesn’t love a milf am i right??? go play this game if you’re not already

Your pulse is steady under the cutting edge of her sewing needle as it glides down the sensuous curve of your neck in a deliberate pattern, along one of the warm veins she knows lies right beneath this layer of perfumed skin. It thumps softly though not without a care; Garofano counts 52 beats per minute, each of them for her. In turn, hers races with no clear destination. Your head slowly tilts to the side, opening yourself to her burning gaze like a naive, doe-eyed fool, but the look in your lidded eyes only speaks of certainty. Three simple words are written for her in their colored depths: all of me. She welcomes those words like a confession. If you were to use your voice, you would say it isn’t one. Your truth is evident and unashamed. All of you, hers. All of you, laid before her in a perfect picture of vulnerability. Submission. Her pillows support your head, her sheets tenderly caress your bare arms and back with even the faintest movement the same way her weapon of choice traces the hollow of your throat, and her knitted shawl, made with her expert hands, still rests around your shoulders from the moment you absentmindedly mentioned feeling chilly earlier. Now, it embraces you so well she might feel a spark of envy in her gut if her insides weren’t overflowing with something else— desire. Desire to possess more than she already does. It’s never enough as if there constantly exists a crumb of you she has yet to taste, and just when she believes she’s had the whole of you, you meet her eyes with a smile that shows the barest hint of the canines past your lips and she’s certain that there is more to be had. 

Garofano can’t resist applying a small amount of pressure between your collarbones, pricking the skin until a drop of crimson bubbles up to the surface. She watches you and you smile at her little test like you did the very first time. She reflects your amusement with a low chuckle. The needle, dipped in blood, continues its journey down the middle of your chest. If it was a scalpel, she could have opened a cavity and fondly brushed the pad of her index over the length of your breastbone, but she would have gotten greedy and slipped her fingers between your ribs for a graze of your heart. Instead, she trails the pointed end across the expanse of your thorax. She both witnesses and feels the fluctuation of your next breath, a touch faster than the last, and she feels a tingling sensation in her limbs at the sight. Your upper body is completely bare to her leisure touch. She drinks in the rising goosebumps her needle leaves behind. Her gaze follows the glint of metal wherever it glides on your beautiful skin and her mind is unable to conjure up a compliment she hasn’t already uttered on your previous nights together. What new words can she possibly use that will encapsulate all of your beauty? She always has the same ones sitting on her lips: art, sacred, inestimable. Perhaps there is more value in repeating them over and over until her tongue grows numb rather than digging around for novelty. She has spoken every thought, has recited every stanza of poetry she’s found with your name spelled between the lines. Her love for you is anything but new after all. It’s familiar, like walking the same road home at the end of the day so often you could take the path with your eyes shut. Yes, she will repeat herself as long as she can use her vocal chords to form words. If not, she will write. Because love means nothing if she can’t express it for you to know. 

Garofano traces the gentle swell of your breast for a suspended moment. Your eyes are tame as you observe her every move before the sewing tool smoothly draws a curvy line back towards your heart. She keeps it there, watching your chest rise and fall under it. Her bedroom smells faintly of gardenia and stands still against the flow of time beyond its intimate space. You like the sweetness she carries with her, you often tell her. She’s not sure if you mean her fragrance or her. Looking at you now, with your heavy eyelids and an abundance of fondness for her on your face, she thinks you must be in love. The thought lights the embers in her belly, and its warmth spreads to the tip of her ears. 

“You know,” she starts quietly, “right now, your life is in my hands.”

She underlines her point by pressing the needle firmly against your skin without drawing blood. She knows exactly where to pierce for a fatal strike to the heart to take you out before you realize she’s done it, and she doesn’t even have to know your body like the back of her hand for it. Her needles are many things; tools she uses to create personally designed dresses, subtle weapons in snuffing the life out of the Garden’s enemies’ eyes and tonight, an intimate means of exploration. She glides the cool tip along the lines of your body, meticulous and attentive, like she wishes to lose herself in them. Her control and precision are unmatched, she doesn’t harm, only caresses. Though at times, she thinks you wish she would do the former, as if it was the strongest way to demonstrate what she feels for you. She prefers soothing strokes and tender embraces, sincere words and fond looks. It's unfamiliar to you, but she will hold your hand through your learning process regardless of how long it takes. 

Your eyes gleam at her words, prompting a knowing smile from her. You wrap both hands around her wrist and press the needle closer to your chest.

“Yes,” you agree easily, almost breathlessly, “right now and always.”

“Always? That’s a very long time.”

“Not long enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with her growing smile. You release her wrist and allow her to draw patterns on your skin again, half circles and made up letters on your breast, sometimes dangerously close to the stiff peak of your nipple. Her free hand brushes up your abdomen. Her palm is warm, it often is, as she maps out the curves and dips of your stomach with a seasoned touch. Garofano knows just how to steal the breath from your lungs and render you a gasping mess for her. She’s so very skilled with her hands; anywhere they pass, a shudder follows closely. Your flesh is malleable between her fingers and she handles you like one of the expensive and delicate fabrics she works on whenever she has a moment’s rest— she’s careful, patient as a saint, and with a single curl of her slick fingers, a prayer of her name tumbles out of your mouth in half broken moans.

She cups your right breast and your lips part further. 

“You would stay with me forever then?” She asks, her voice a sultry caress. She already knows your answer and she never tires of hearing it.

“Mhmm,” you nod with a cheeky smile because you know what it does to her to see you so eager and devoted. “Forever yours.”

Her eyes burn into yours, you hold her lustful stare with as much heat reflected in your irises. Her thumb fleetingly passes over your hard nipple and the sensation is enough for your hunger to grow. Her hand leaves your breast to trail upward, over your collarbone, and she wraps her slender fingers around the base of your throat. She feels your next swallow under her palm. Garofano leans closer, her thighs now straddling your waist, and lifts the needle to your cheek. It unhurriedly draws a slim heart on your skin, but your gaze stays locked on hers and you tilt your chin, subconsciously gravitating towards her. Her guts clench at your expression, naked desire etched on the lines of your face. She lowers her eyes to the curve of your upper lip, so full and begging to be kissed, with the tip of your white canines visible just past it. She looks back at you.

“You look like you want to eat me,” she says teasingly, but there’s a truth to her words. 

“I do.” Your breath is slightly shorter and you swallow again, pupils blown. You inch closer to her, and your longing for her could not be clearer. “I want to tear into you. I want to sink my teeth into your skin and bite off a piece of you so that your taste never fades from my mouth.”

Her heart thunders in her chest like it’s trying to close the distance between it and your own. The needle pauses its languid movements. Your body is soft and pliant under her and the tips of your fingers loosely clutch the fabric of her shirt, holding onto her even as she’s pressed against you. Your eyelids droop further, your rising chest flushed to hers. You look intoxicated with her presence alone and Garofano feels her commendable patience fraying at the edges. You bring a hand to cover hers holding the needle again and stroke her knuckles. The warmth of your skin seeps into her, expanding to the rest of her body.

“Carve your name into my skin so there’s no doubt as to who I belong to.”

The pad of her thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling it down to see more of your teeth. She thinks your jaw must ache, hungry as you are. 

“And scar this perfect skin?” She smiles, eyes dark.

“Yeah. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Mmm…” 

Her thumb slips past your lips and slowly slides over the upper row of teeth there, back and forth in a soothing pattern. Your mouth stays parted for her and your eyes soften at the gesture. She absentmindedly seeks to soothe the dull ache of your teeth with her touch but all she succeeds to do is fan the fire within you. Your fangs graze her skin yet she doesn’t flinch, used to their cutting shape, or perhaps because she knows you won’t bite despite every instinct screaming at you to do so. Her trust is not unfounded. You kiss her thumb before it leaves your mouth. 

Garofano softly shakes her head and cups your jaw. “No, I think I’ll claim you in another much more enjoyable way.”

She emphasizes her murmured promise with a kiss. Her lips lock with yours like two puzzle pieces made for each other. She’s languid and firm, a hand under your jaw, and she kisses you until the quickened rhythm of your breaths synchronizes. She relishes the sound your mouths make with every brief separation and the feeling of your lips sliding against hers, always greedy for more. One of your hands sneaks under the hem of her shirt to trail up the curve of her spine. A small shiver follows your touch. You chase her when she pulls away, and a short chuckle escapes her before she presses loving kisses across your jaw. Your fingers sink in her voluminous hair in a gentle grip. You squirm beneath her, your skin is already heating up under her soft ministrations because of a few kisses and unlike her, you’re not known for your patience. Garofano quells your growing impatience with a warning graze of her teeth against the edge of your jaw. 

You’d almost forgotten the sewing needle held confidently between her thumb and forefinger. Garofano withdraws from you and immediately earns a petulant sound out of your mouth. Amusement shines in her eyes at the slight pout of your lips as she straightens up above you, sitting on your pelvis, but her fingertips ache to give you everything you want. She will, in due time. First, she wants to savour the feel of your body under her hands and bring you over the edge using only the fingers you love so much. She places the needle on the hollow of your throat and makes her way downward a second time, though this time she ignores the erect buds on your chest and draws a straight line down your abdomen. The pleasant sting of her weapon makes you shiver even as the room’s temperature steadily rises. You regard her with heavy eyes and she follows the movement of her hand down your body while the other feels the curves of your waist, possessively squeezing the flesh now and then. The zone around your navel is sensitive, she leisurely circles it with her needle and her pleased smile widens an inch at your response— the sharp hitch of a breath. 

“Truly a work of art,” Garofano utters appreciatively, more to herself than to you. 

Her nails softly rake your skin, a satisfying contrast to the sting of her needle. It glides over your stomach with no specific destination, etching shapes and broken patterns onto your body. You shift under her. Your hands come to rest on her thighs, fingertips digging lightly into the supple flesh, and Garofano can tell you’re getting a little needy. 

“Mmh? Is there something you need, my darling?”

“You,” your answer is instant and laced with desire, her gaze flickers to your face at your tone. “Always you.”

Your eyes are aflame with lust, and she thinks it’s a wonder you haven’t tried to take things into your own hands yet. Your need to be touched by her, to feel the love confessions she writes on your body with her nimble fingers, constitutes most of your inhibitions right now. Your restraint is endearing, as is the way your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet your drying lips. 

“It’s taking everything in me not to pounce on you,” you continue honestly.

Garofano’s mouth quirks up into the beginnings of a smirk. “Is that so…?” 

She brings a hand to her collar and deftly undos the first few buttons of her shirt, drinking in the darkened color of your eyes on her. She exposes the slope of her neck to your hungry gaze and goes as far as popping open the fourth button so that you get a teasing glimpse of the smooth expanse of her chest. She feels your grip tightening on her thighs, but you still make no move to pounce on her like you said.

“Nothing?” She taunts you one more time, dipping a finger between the opening of her shirt and pulling the fabric down only an inch. 

You look at her with pursed lips. She laughs quietly and leans forward to plant a lingering kiss on your mouth that you quickly reciprocate, your eyes fluttering shut. Her breath fans your lips when she pulls away.

“You’re being such a sweet girl for me tonight,” she mutters against your mouth, “allowing me to indulge in you like this even though you’re itching to touch me. I can almost hear your thoughts, what you’ll do to me later.”

“I’ll put my mouth on you,” you say like a promise, “my tongue, my teeth. They long for you, you know— my teeth. They ache at the mere sight of you.”

“I know, darling girl…” Her nose brushes your cheek with the next kiss she presses on the corner of your lips. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“No. I can never be close enough, immersed enough, it’s driving me crazy.” Your hands move from her thighs to the curve of her ass, and a small gasp escapes her at your firm grip. “You’ll be covered in the shape of my mouth once I’m through with you.”

Your words make her pussy clench. The mental image of your marks on her, bruising her skin until it turns a beautiful shade of purple and leaving behind a dull ache she’ll still feel the next day, swirls around in her head. You’ve previously shared your displeasure at her choice of clothing, how she prefers long sleeves and high collars, and complained about your handiwork going unnoticed because of it. You’ve taken to leaving lipstick marks on the underside of her jaw instead, and she finds your wish to claim her for all to see maddening. You share her passion, her visceral desire to possess and never let go. You cling to her with scorched fingertips and sweet vows on the tip of your tongue, your yearning for closeness mirrors hers in all the ways that matter most. It takes her breath away each time to bear witness to the profound way you love, and she has to admit that she hasn't yet gotten used to standing in the heart of it. 

Garofano guides your lips to hers for another insistent kiss. She readily swallows the quiet sounds out of your mouth and keeps her body flushed against you for a moment longer. Her tongue runs across the seam of your lips, and you part them wider to welcome it. Your shared saliva meld together with no clear idea where yours begins and hers ends, until there is only the feel of you, impossibly close, taking over senses. You often kiss her like you’re running out of air and she’s the one breathing it back into your lungs, as if she held the essence of your being on her lips. She attempts to withdraw from your mouth enough to catch her breath and your fingers flex on her ass as you lean forward to capture her lips again. A pleased hum sounds from her throat at your eager kiss but she still punishes your gluttony with a controlled press of the needle at your stomach. The sudden sting makes you gasp in silent surprise, and Garofano takes the opportunity to straighten up above you once more. 

“Patience,” she reminds you, “you’ll get what you want soon enough. But for now, let me enjoy you.”

You don’t respond, your legs shut in an effort at restraining the heat between them. Her gaze tracks the needle in her hand as it moves across your skin and she revels in the slight tremble of your limbs wherever it passes. The tip is a teasing sensation on your body and she feels a deep satisfaction at the shivers it earns from you, your hands obediently back on her thighs like the good girl you can be. She can hear some of the breaths you exhale every now and then. Your chest thumps with need, your fingertips clutch at her skirt and your dark eyes are fixed on her form sitting above you, but you reign in your urges like she so gently demanded. Luckily for you, feeling you quiver underneath her, exposed and open, has Garofano’s hunger flare up in her guts. 

She moves backwards to settle between your legs and your thighs part almost instinctively to accommodate her. Your thin underwear clings to your skin, already damp from her earlier attention. Garofano shoots you an amused smile.

“I’ve barely touched you.”

“Garo, have you seen yourself? I get wet watching you sew.”

She laughs and you mirror her expression with a small one of your own. “So that’s why you insist on hanging around when I work…”

“Busted,” your smile widens when she playfully pinches your inner thigh. “Can you blame me? You’re the sexiest person in this garden. Don’t tell Mentor. Though she’d probably agree.”

“You’re impossible.”

The air is thick with anticipation and Garofano’s eyes are full of adoration. She runs her splayed fingers flat down your torso from your breast to your pelvic bone, stopping just above the waistband of your panties. Your hips shift under her touch but she pulls her hand back to take hold of your left thigh instead and you bite back an indignant protest. She teases you with the needle in her other hand, trailing the tip up your right inner thigh firm enough to sting pleasantly without causing harm. The subtle weapon draws closer to the edge of your underwear, and the muscles of your thigh flex with the restraint it takes you not to squirm restlessly. You’re aching for her to touch you properly, she can see it in the way your breathing picks up a beat when she kneads your flesh, her nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. Still, you don’t pressure her to quicken her pace. Garofano rewards your good behavior with a kiss to the heated spot in the crook of your thigh. She can smell your arousal, intoxicatingly obvious. You’re ready for her and she’s barely done anything. She almost groans. 

Garofano effortlessly discards the needle with a flick of her wrist. She wants to touch you properly, feel your quivering muscles and raised hairs under her palms as she pleasures you. Two fingers toy with the band of your underwear and slowly reveal the curls underneath. She can hear each of your heavy exhales as she bares the rest of your body to her gaze. Your last article of clothing is discarded next and Garofano sucks in an inaudible breath at the sight of the telltale glisten of your lips exposing your arousal. She runs a single digit over your pussy, from your short, slick hairs down to your slippery slit and through your warm folds. Her finger shines in the low light of the bedroom. it ignores your aching clit and explores your cunt like it has a hundred times before. Your hips chase her touch, silently asking for more, but for some time it’s all she gives you. She spreads your lips to admire the pretty colors of your cunt and spreads your wetness all over your sex until it steadily drips down the crack of your ass cheeks. You sigh softly, a touch irritated despite the pleasure that courses through you at her reverent ministrations, looking down at her expectantly.

Garofano smiles; your lips part wider to speak— to whine for more, no doubt— and she applies pressure on your clit before you can utter a word. Your breathing stutters, she hears it more than anything, and your body desperately jerks further into her. Whatever sentence you were going to say is replaced by a quiet moan that makes her stomach clench in pleasure. Your pretty little sounds, so unashamed, always get the same reaction from her. She rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud and kneads the flesh of your thigh with her other hand, relishing the feel of it between her fingers. You get wetter by the second and she hasn’t even pushed a finger inside of you yet. 

“Hah, Garo…” you breathe out her name; it sounds softer in your mouth. 

She teasingly flicks your clit with a fingertip and tears another lovely noise from you. “Yes? What are you aching for, my darling? Tell me.”

“More… Your fingers.”

“What about my fingers?”

Her smile widens at the short whine you respond with. You can get so needy when she touches you like this, you forget yourself and easily lose your mind to the stimulation she provides you. It’s such a contrast to when you have your fingers around her throat and are stealing the air from her lungs with incessant kisses. She enjoys both versions of you, especially since you look this gorgeous, pleading and at her mercy. 

“Inside me,” you gasp brokenly, “God, just fuck me like you mean it— Mnh!”

“Bossy.”

You’re interrupted by two of her fingers slipping inside your cunt with no resistance on your part. Her digits are immediately enveloped by your dripping heat and curl inward to brush your inner walls, earning a proper moan from you this time. One of your hands gropes your own chest, thumb swiping over your nipple and adding to the assault of sensations your body is under.

Garofano’s thrusts don’t reflect her gentle personality, she adds a third finger that has your back aching off the bed and your eyes fluttering shut. Her hand leaves your thigh to toy with your momentarily neglected clit and you shudder with the first touch of her index on your pulsing nub. She can feel you clenching deliciously around her fingers. The wet sounds of them thrusting in and out of your needy pussy and your soft cries of pleasure fill the room in an erotic harmony. It’s music to her ears, she can’t tear her eyes from the arousing picture you make as you get closer to your peak; your hips eagerly meet each hard thrust, your brows twist in ecstasy and your lips are forever parted to let out those maddening moans you can’t contain. Her stimulation is unrelenting, she watches the way the pad of her finger rapidly teases your clit then further smears your arousal over your sex. Your glistening curls are temptatious, she thinks of all the ways she’ll taste you in the upcoming hour and the sinful thoughts only serve to fuel her desire to make you cream around her digits. She buries them inside you to the knuckle, savouring the warm and velvety feel of your cunt on her skin. 

She neglects her own arousal to focus on yours and your throbbing clit under her thumb, her need growing between her thighs. You pinch your nipple with two fingers and she briefly abandons the bud to bring a wet thumb to your other breast. She leans forward, never slowing her pace inside you, and lifts the plush mound to her mouth. Your eyes rapidly blink open, head tilting to gaze down at her, and Garofano’s pleased smile reflects in the crinkles around her eyes as she meets yours. Your free hand tangles into her long locks. Your grip is tight and desperate, a way to hold on to her closely. Your desire is written on your sweaty skin, it’s in your heated stare and in the flash of your tongue peeking just past your open mouth, and it’s all for her. All of you. Her tongue swirls around your hard nipple and suckles in time with the thrusts inside your cunt. You won’t last long like this, she knows your body’s tells better than you do and the way you clamp around her hand is the most obvious one of them all. 

Your breast slips out of her mouth with a slick sound. You respond with a small noise of protest.

“Don’t stop,” you almost whine, pushing her closer to your chest with the hand in her hair, “don’t stop, baby…”

“So greedy,” Garofano places sweet kisses on your breast, but it isn’t enough. Your fingers tighten in her hair and she curls her fingers in retaliation, knuckles brushing your sensitive walls. Your sharp intake of breath is as intoxicating as your taste. “You were such a good girl, don’t forget your manners now. It’d be a shame to stop right before you come for me.”

She slows her pace to a tantalizing rub to illustrate her point and draws another indignant mewl from you. She chuckles in amusement. 

“Garo, don’t tease…”

“But you make such pretty sounds for me.”

“Mmnh, I sound better when I come.”

“Oh, I know.” Her reply is low and honeyed, dripping with want.

It’s true, you do sound the most beautiful when you’re coming undone around her fingers or on her tongue. Your breath hitches, your eyes lift to the ceiling, and high moans meant only for her tumble from your pretty lips. With the image in mind, Garofano thrusts her fingers as deep as they can go, hard and fast, relishing the widening of your eyes at the sudden shift. Your soaping wet cunt clamps around her digits, sucking her in and refusing to let her go. The upper row of her teeth graze the heated skin of your breast and just barely touches the stiff peak, but it still earns her a breathless reaction from you. Your skin is burning with the desire coiling tight in the depths of your stomach. Garofano’s tongue darts out to swipe over your nipple just as the coil bursts and your orgasm crashes over you in electrifying waves of pleasure. You gush around her fingers and she merely rubs your inner walls to help you drag out your orgasm. Her name is a sinful drawl out of your mouth, her ears tingle with the rousing sound. Your desperate grip on her hair is almost painful, and she hums low in her throat at the pleasant sensation.

Her fingers effortlessly slide out of you once you’ve come down from your high and she lifts them to her line of sight so you can see the telltale glisten of your cum on her skin. Your lashes flutter open as you catch your breath and Garofano plants a parting kiss on your chest before sitting back on her knees. She meets your eyes with a satisfied glint in hers and brings her hand to her mouth, slowly sucking one cum-covered finger at a time. The digit disappears past her lips then slips out with a wet pop! that has your irises cower from the darkness of your pupils. Garofano makes a show of licking her fingers clean while you watch with parted lips, your pussy still pulsing with unabashed need. You lift yourself on your elbows. Your gaze is smoldering, full of promise, and she merely has the time to smile before you lounge yourself at her, wrapping her in your arms and bringing her back onto the bed with you. A surprised laugh escapes her as she willingly steps into your embrace. Her back softly collides with the firm mattress. Your lips are already on her jaw scattering kisses here and there, and the sudden movement has swept some purple locks into her face, tickling her cheek. She’s forced to shut her eyes when your mouth reaches the slope of her nose, her smile stretching wider. Her hands sneak around your bare torso and travel along the path of your spine in loving motions, as if writing those words that make stars burst in your eyes directly onto your skin. You hum contentedly near her brow in response. 

“My turn, now,” you mutter into her temple, a finger already tracing the hollow of her throat. 

You feel her next swallow under the pad of your fingertip. You pull away from her face to gaze down at her, and her eyes open to hold your stare, warm anticipation sending shivers through her limbs. Your fingertip is replaced by your palm, your fingers wrap around her throat and lightly squeeze the sides of it once. Garofano’s breath hitches, not due to the hand around her neck but rather to the heady veil over your half-lidded eyes as the tip of your tongue trails over your upper teeth. She recognizes that hunger, and her pussy throbs at the sight. 

“The world may not see my marks on you with all of these shirts you like to wear…” your free hand runs a straight line from her collar down to her abdomen, forcibly popping buttons on the way and effectively ruining the garment until more of her skin is revealed for your viewing pleasure. Your lips part wider, molars aching at the expanse of creamy skin before you. “But you’ll definitely feel them.” You lift your gaze to hers. “You’ll ache, like I do for you.”

“Is that a promise?” She asks cheekily.

You smile sharply. “Just a heads up.”

You lower yourself over her to capture her lips in a wet kiss. Your thigh slots between hers, bending in a way that applies delicious pressure to her covered cunt. You swallow the throaty moan that spills from her mouth and caress her tongue with your own. Garofano easily meets your intensity halfway. Your connected mouths move in a sensual dance that steals the air right from her lungs. Her hips shift under you, shamelessly seeking the dizzying friction of your thigh against her cunt. For one moment, you lose your mind to the intoxicating feeling of her kiss and melt into her body a little more. She tastes like sweet tea and the cum she sucked off her fingers just now, a strange yet addictive mix to taste off her lips. You normally could waste hours kissing her like this with no complaint, but your current impatience has other plans. Your hand trails up to her chest and sneaks under the pad of her bra, cupping a handful of her breast. It squeezes and kneads and caresses, manipulating the smooth flesh like clay.  Through your locked lips, Garofano’s sharp exhales become yours along with each quiet noise you pull out of her. Your thumb circles her stiff nipple and you feel the familiar shape of her nails on the skin of your back, digging ever so slightly. 

You can’t resist a minute longer, Garofano can practically see your restraint snap in two and she tilts her head to the side preemptively once you withdraw from her mouth. Your teeth on her skin always bring forth the same buzzing sensation in her lower abdomen; you litter marks along her neck, biting and licking everywhere your mouth reaches. The light sting paired with the wet warmth of your tongue as you suck the skin, painting splotches of purple on her body that rival her hair color, arouses her more than anything. The ache between her thighs is almost unbearable. Her clothes make it impossible to get the friction she needs to relieve herself, her hips uselessly grind into your thigh and she lets out a bothered sigh.

“Darling, ah,” she calls out breathlessly; your teeth sink into her collarbone before your tongue wets the spot there, covering her in your saliva, “a little help?”

Her hands leave your back to rake up the fabric of her long skirt up to her hips but are blocked by your thigh between hers. 

“M’not done,” you mumble, kissing the newly made bite marks across her collarbones. 

You absentmindedly pinch her nipple and tweak the erect nub between two fingers. Garofano swallows thickly. Despite her urgent need, she can’t find it in herself to reprimand your one-track mind. It’s cute how focused you are on your task while playing with her breast, relieving the ache of your jaw by nibbling on her like a chew toy. Your lips travel down to her chest and you take a few seconds to take off her ruined shirt and expose the dark bra underneath. The straps are sliding down her shoulders the next instant and the clasp is undone by an expert hand. Once she lies bare beneath you, you resume your ministrations on her chest. The flesh of her breast is soft and pliable, you spend the longest time stimulating her chest with lovebites and quick suckles, your eyes falling shut. Your tongue swirls around her nipple and your hand kneads her neglected breast. Garofano gazes down at your blissful expression as you suck her glistening nipple into your mouth once more, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy. She lifts a hand to the back of your head, a low moan reverberating through her chest. Her skin shines everywhere your tongue has touched and covers her in a soft glow under the bedroom lights. It’s littered with reddish indentations and purple bruises, courtesy of your desire to consume her, but you never go far enough for them to feel unpleasant. You kiss where you want to chew, lick where your molars throb with the instinct to tear and mutter reverent words when you best express yourself through the bite marks your teeth leave behind. Your restraint is commendable, but more than that, it is proof of a long-lasting devotion with her at the very center. 

Your mouth finally abandons her chest and travels to the soft curves of her stomach. With the movement, your thigh no longer stands in the way of Garofano bundling her skirt at the waist. She holds the fabric in place with one hand and spreads her legs enticingly, revelling in your immediate reaction to the sight of her drenched panties. Your fingers dig into her inner thigh, pushing it further apart, and you feel her stretch marks with a caressing hand. 

You tug the waistband of her underwear and glance at the wetness that connects the flimsy material to the slick hairs of her pussy, then lift your eyes to hers. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“I am. Why don’t you do something about it?”

“Mmm…” 

You leisurely drag your index up and down her covered slit, enjoying the sight of her lips emphasized by the pretty fabric. You hear a trembling breath and tilt your head to the right, pondering. 

“What are you waiting for?” Garofano shifts on the bed, brushing some locks out of her face and smiling down at you fondly. “Need some encouragement?”

“I’m just wondering how I want to fuck you. But… a bit of encouragement never hurts.”

“In that case… Be good and make me feel nice, won’t you, my darling?”

You bite your bottom lip in a futile effort to contain your growing smile. A swift movement has her underwear sliding down to her ankles and another  has a thigh resting over your shoulder. You turn your head to mark the warm skin at your disposal, taking your time to pepper bruises all over her inner thighs so that she won’t be able to close her legs without thinking of you. The colors are gorgeous on her, her body is a canvas you paint with your teeth and tongue, adding a few additional shades to the pink flush of her skin. She’s ready for you— has been ready a while ago— but you decide to tease her some more for what she pulled earlier, taunting you like that. Your lips follow a predetermined path towards her slick, aching cunt. Garofano tuts impatiently when you take too long, a quiet sound that amuses you.

“Patience,” you repeat her words from before and lick up a thin string of arousal smeared on her thigh, “I’m enjoying you.”

Her hand on your cheek brings your gaze back to hers and, despite yourself, you lean into the touch. Garofano strokes your face in a way that always has you melting, her thumb gently swiping over your cheek in a soothing pattern. It moves to your mouth and pulls your bottom lip downward. Almost instinctively, you suck the digit into your mouth. The low hum of satisfaction that you earn is enough to make you forget about your previous intentions to edge her. For a suspended moment, you simply look at her.

“You won’t keep me waiting, right?” The sultry and expectant tone of her voice coupled with the evident heat in her eyes make your insides clench. “I need you…” 

Her free hand lowers to her pussy, and she spreads her lips with two manicured fingers, giving you an unobstructed view of her dripping folds. Her thumb slips out of your mouth and wets your lips.

“I need your mouth, my darling,” she continues, a breathiness in her words, “that talented tongue on me. Will you be a good girl for me?”

You nod wordlessly, mind hazy. The lines of her face are more pronounced when she smiles, and you barely tear your eyes away from them as you taste her, tongue slithering up her slit to collect her arousal. You watch her with heavy eyelids while you lap at her like a thirsty kitten. You flick her erect clit with the tip of your tongue a couple of times, and Garofano moans in pleasure, still keeping her pussy lips open for your hungry mouth. The back of her head hits the pillows, her hips chase the sensations you bring her, and her chest falls heavily along every breathy sound that flies out of her mouth. She’s stunning, a sculpture that’s been given the breath of life. Her long locks of hair are like tendrils framing her face, her brows twitch with each pass of your tongue over her cunt, and lower, her nipples sit on her rising chest like precious gemstones. Your mouth waters. You long to suckle on them a bit longer, but that’ll be for later. You wrap your lips around her clit instead and suck, hard and fast. Face pressed to her drenched cunt, your chin and nose are rapidly coated in her essence. She fills your senses; her taste on your tongue, her scent in your nose, the flesh of her thigh beneath your fingers, those raspy, honeyed moans in your ears… She’s everywhere at once. Your world is reduced to her immense presence all around you. She’s not looking at you, her eyes are shut in pleasure. Her hand has turned into a claw on your cheek, her nails carving crescent moons into your skin, and her heel is pressed to your back to keep you against her. She clings to you as she grinds her pussy on your tongue, and you can’t help pushing a finger past her pulsing entrance. It slides in easily, she’s more than wet enough for it. 

“Hah, mmmn,” Garofano’s beautiful sounds above you encourage you to thrust into her at a steady pace. “Yes, just like that…”

You briefly withdraw from her cunt to marvel at how effortlessly your finger disappears inside her wet heat. The squelching noise it makes with each thrust is sinful yet it melds perfectly with her deep lustful moans. Praises fall from her lips like she’s uttered them a thousand times, and perhaps she has, your head spins with need and you forget to count. You slip a second finger into her and don’t let up on her engorged clit, suckling the nub until it twitches on your tongue. Garofano keeps her thighs spread prettily for you, though the muscles flex and relax in succession, a sign of her impending orgasm. Your tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring her over the edge, unrelenting and determined. You recall just how attractive she is when she comes, how her back makes this perfect arc over the bed and her pussy clamps around you, and you curl your fingers inside her cunt to hit the spongy spot that has her eyes rolling back in their socket. She’s so aroused, so wet, it doesn’t take much longer for her to get close to her peak. The pleasure steadily mounts within her, snaking around her guts and squeezing, and she lets you know through drawled out words of encouragement.

“You’re doing so good, darling— I’m so close, don’t stop.”

The assault of sensations is sending shudders through her body. She wantonly bucks into your mouth, chasing her high with no care in the world. You enjoy her the most like this, when she simply takes what she wants without question. She is greedy and you give freely with the burning desire to satiate her. Your fingers pump inside her dripping cunt, your muffled sounds of pleasure vibrate against her folds, and it’s not long before Garofano comes down your throat. Your soaked digits slip out of her and you latch onto her gushing entrance to swallow every drop of cum that that leaks out of her pussy with her powerful orgasm. Her strong thighs press against your ears and you let them, too focused on her tangy taste to do anything more than drink what she gives you. You lap at her a moment longer as she regains her bearings. Her hand lifts to the back of your head and strokes your hair while you clean her up. You look up to see Garofano already gazing at you, warmth etched in her eyes. She catches her breath and returns the easy smile you send her way with a soft chuckle. 

“Come here, sweet girl,” she beckons you closer and you obey instantly, pressing one last kiss over her dark, slick curls before climbing on top of her to reach her face. 

Garofano tenderly cups your cheek. The tip of her nose brushes along the side of yours, then she kisses your cum covered lips and sighs contentedly into your mouth. Her skin is as warm as the embers simmering in your belly. She kisses you sweetly, slowly so as to relish the feel of you against her, and you want more. You want so much more of her— you hunger for more of her taste on your tongue, of her curves under your fingertips, of her mouth on your body. She is there, lying beneath you, open and giving, and it still isn’t enough. Your weight on her is a welcomed one, she sneaks an arm around your waist to trap you on top of her body while she gets her fill of your kiss swollen lips. 

“Mmh, Garo,” you reluctantly pull away to speak, but she chases your mouth and presses some more kisses on it as you talk,” hope you’re not… tired…”

“Oh?” She tilts your chin upwards with two fingers and gives you a dark look. “And why’s that?”

“I’m in a playful mood.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm. I wanna play. And I have just the toy for it.”

Garofano laughs quietly at your raised eyebrows. Her forefinger absentmindedly rubs the cartilage of your earlobe. 

“Well, now I’m curious.”

Your excitement is adorable. A glint appears in your eyes at the thought you planted in her head, and your canines peek just so through your wide smile. Garofano simply observes your features in the low lighting as you ramble about your newest discovery.

“Okay, so, since I can’t actually get you pregnant, I got the next best thing…”

She’ll definitely entertain that thought later. For now, she only holds you close and traces the shape of your ear to commit the feature to muscle memory. In the sanctity of her bedroom and past these colored walls, you belong to each other. She smiles to herself. So precious, so beautiful, and you’re hers. Perhaps some hardships are worth suffering through if they lead to you.

[lulivalu]

coquefano