#the face of a man who is loving being squeezed by an Italian

[canirove]

Crystal Palace Vs. Arsenal | 21.12.2024

📸 by Stuart MacFarlane/Arsenal FC via Getty Images

[sinofwriting]

Protective - Max Verstappen ( I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 910 Word Prompt: Protective (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place during the Baku 2024 race weekend. Also I hate James Vowles

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Logan is a momma’s boy. It’s something he’s known for as long as he can remember. It’s something that has been thrown in his face, a taunt, a tease, as if he’s supposed to be ashamed that he loves his mom. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his mom and that includes ending what was supposed to be a good month of silence from him other than a short interview he did just after the news broke and the quickly deleted statement he put out.

He’s no longer an F1 driver for the 2024 season, but he still is traveling with the calendar. He hadn’t used the hotel room Williams booked for him since Australia, not when Red Bull always gives Max a suite and there’s always a little envelope with Logan’s name on it that holds a key.

He had stayed completely in the hotel during Monza. He loves the amount of support Charles gets, loves how passionate they are, but it’s a lot to be around, to walk around. He also doesn’t need to hear another drunk Italian man shout about wanting desperately to have Charles’ babies.

He had planned to do the same in Baku just because he didn’t feel like exploring Baku. But then a video gets leaked.

And that’s the end of Logan’s silence.

He shows up on Friday by himself. His parents are already in the Red Bull garage, waiting for him, but they know that he’ll be awhile.

He smiles at fans when they cheer and greet him, taking his time to sign stuff and take pictures, ignoring the hungry photographers and reporters that are watching. He squeezes the hands of fans who despite what happened are wearing his number and telling them how much they love him.

He takes a few more photos before finally pulling away from the fans and beginning to walk. It doesn’t take long before someone finally pounces. A microphone being handed to him, that he easily takes and a camera trained on him and oh great, he wants to roll his eyes a bit, Will Buxton.

“Logan, how are you doing?”

Logan smiles, nodding at some of the people he recognizes from other teams as they pass by. “I’m good. Enjoying the weather.”

Will laughs and it’s so fake it grates on Logan’s ears. “And are you here for duties with Williams?”

His eyes are hungry, his whole expression is. He clearly wants to press and dig deep but is trying to be patient.

He shakes his head, “Here to support my dad. I no longer am associated with Williams.” He knows fans had speculated after seeing his name cleared from their website, but the dissociation had only become official just three hours ago.

“Really? Not even development.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Ties have been cut, man.” He laughs.

“And Logan, the video that has been circulating these past twelve hours, have you seen it? What are your thoughts?”

“I have seen it. And it’s disgusting really. James has never been shy about sharing his feelings about me and that’s fine, I was a driver on his team, I was a driver. But there’s no reason to bring up and say things about someone who isn’t a part of the team or any of the teams, but is just part of the driver’s staff and a parent. I could see why if they were disruptive or causing a mess, making a scene, but that isn’t the case.”

Will nods, “I couldn’t agree more, Logan.”

“I also want to say thank you to all the people who have been talking about this and talking about the words he said about my mom. I haven’t yet seen a statement put out, but I hope that what he said isn’t brushed aside.”

“I hope so as well.”

“I still say I should get to punch him.” Max comments after they finish watching Logan’s interviews and Logan can’t help but hum in agreement.

“Max.” Christian sighs, though he looks more amused than anything.

“If he wants to call someone a whore, he should call himself that. He has a wife and baby at home and yet is talking about meeting with Carlos in hotel rooms. And calling Pan a bitch just because she supported Logan? Fuck him.”

“We know, Max.” GP nearly looks bored, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Logan just knows means trouble for the Williams team principal.

A throat clears and everyone looks at his mom. “I think we all need to calm down. Especially you,” she gently pokes Logan’s forehead, before running her fingers through his hair. “The protective thing is nice, but it’s not the first time I’ve been called those things and it won’t be the last. We need to be adults about it.”

Logan frowns at her words. “You’ve been called a whore before?”

Max is frowning as well and something churns in Logan’s gut.

“Yes.” She says simply.

“Momma.”

She shakes her head, “No more interviews, Logan. Not about this at least. You didn’t say anything wrong, but I don’t want people thinking that it’s okay for them to just ask and talk about.”

She then turns to Max and Logan watches as she stares at him. “Do I even bother asking you to not say anything?”

Max shrugs. “You could.”

She sighs. “Just don’t threaten him. The FIA is already looking closely at you.”

“No threats.” He agrees.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

YOU SAID SOFT!JASON AND I CAME RUNNING

soft!jason who just needs a fucking hug but its a stubborn bitch about it until reader basically forces him to hug her (its koala szn ok i dont make the rules) and his resolve is just GONE and he melts into her touch bc he really needed it

I follow the book of SZA for this season.

Personally ima imagine Gotham Knights Jason cause he gives off ugly bulldog vibes and I love that, but all Jason lives matter here 😊❤️

—

It’s been a while since you’ve witnessed a squash get butchered into many interesting pieces.

The tackling of the oddly tough spaghetti squash was always handled by your boyfriend, who made cutting it into its prepared state look incredibly easy. Cut it into multiple rings, season them, roast them, then fork out the perfectly cooked, sizable noodles with said utensil.

He was lost in thought, he had to have been, as said rock hard vegetable had been resorted to crooked, uneven cubes. His bowed head and dark expression after you quickly noticed, only signified the assumption to be true.

“Jason.” You tried his name again for a second time, concerned enough to settle a hand along his forearm. It was a miracle he hadn’t lost a finger yet, but knocking on wood in your mind would’ve been powerful enough to make it happen.

“Jason.”

The knife pauses, the man blinking once as if someone snapped in front of his face. He lifts his head a bit, coming back to his senses only to realize the state of what mess he’d created on the cutting board.

“Shit,” Jason mutters once, glancing over to see if the other half of the spaghetti squash was still intact.

“Shit.” The curse was further dragged out a little louder. Too lost in his dark cloud of remembrance to realize he butchered it all. Great. Just great.

“Hey,” you speak up, watching him catch your gaze for a split second before avoiding it, quickly setting the knife down.

“Hey.” He clears his throat, his hands piling together the fragments of their now ruined meal. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You try to insist, watching him scoop up the pieces in his hands. “We can still roast it, make it into something still eatable.”

Jason didn’t respond.

This makes your worry meter spike just a little bit more.

“What’s with that frown handsome? You love Italian night.” You question, keeping your hand settled along his forearm.

There was nothing Italian about this dinner, except the homemade sauce and crumbled choice of sausage from an authentic butcher.

He groans but not out of irritance for your words. His hand shifts, making your hand etch back as he leans against the counter, his head bowing once more.

“Nothing.”

What’s going on in that kind mind of his? Was he involuntarily reminiscing of topics and experiences you don’t dare to mention? Was he beating himself up inside for his slip up, ruining a crucial part of your guys’ dinner?

“Come here,” you step closer, slightly extending your arm out a bit as an offering.

Jason nearly etched his head off to the side, nearly mumbling an ‘No. M’fine babe,’ but you weren’t having it.

“Come heeere,” you tried again, reaching your arm up along his opposite bicep, attempting to capture his broad build into your limited embrace.

You make the effort to squeeze in between the tall man of muscle and the kitchen counter, managing to fit both hands over hud shoulders, securing them being his neck.

“We can fix it.” You tell him before he can say otherwise, his brow either furrowing or raising in mixed surprise, and or denial, “We can ask Alfred for one of his secret recipes. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. We’ll make nutella sandwiches or something.”

His brow sharply quirks.

You return the expression with a smile.

You’re a bad influence on him. He adores that about you.

He huffs, an edge of his tone resembling a weak, throaty chuckle. A corner of his lip raised into a limp smile, which was all you needed to see.

“Long day?”

He merely has the strength in his social battery to respond as his head lowers to settle along your shoulder. With a single sigh, the weight of his body against yours nearly had you squished against the counter. A pleasant company along your sides were those ‘unrealistically’ large hands guarding your back from digging too deep against the marble countertop edges.

“Yeah.”

Your small hand cradles the back of his head, nearly soothing the pain from his tension headache. His eyes close, another small sigh leaving his nose. Not all of the palpable stress leaves his body, but your comfort nearly dulls it down into something much more manageable in seconds. Something much more bearable.

Your soft voice floods his aches and pains with a golden warmth of serenity. Your secret super power did wonders on his heart and mind. You didn’t even have to try.

“How’s Nutella sandwiches sound, actually?”

“We don’t have the marshmallow fluff.”

“No, but.. think we got strawberries.”

His brow slightly quirks again. Tonight sounds like it’s getting better already.

[michealscorneroftheinternet]

ALRIGHT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!!

IT'S ABOUT TIME I GIVE SOME LOVE TO MY FAVORITE CREATORS!!!

And by love I mean scream my lungs out-

@strange0-0storm

Bro your character SMG8 has me in a chokehold!

He had me with music. I mean hell I'm listening to music right now while writing this (Digital Hallucination by OR3O) and was when drawing this. I listen to music constantly for inspo. I can imagine sitting and vibing with SMG8 just sharing music together.

Your art style specifically is a big love of mine. I very much envy how you draw SMG8's teeth-

@ominus-potato

BRO....

I literally originally started lurking around your page just finding Marware a fun crack ship but at this point you've dragged me into this ship full on. I'm a sucker for idiot with a charismatic partner. Will always remind me of Roger and Jessica Rabbit.

I continuously look forward to any post of yours! <3

@purpdrawsthings

WHERE TO EVEN START WITH YOU BUDDY-

BRO I SWEAR EVERY TIME I WAKE UP AND SEE A MENTION FROM YOU I GET A GOOFY ASS SMILE ON MY FACE! YOUR ART IS CONSISTENTLY AMAZING!

Your love for all my Aus and me and my friends au brings a smile to both our faces!!!!

@misskamilyvision

YOU.

WHEN I FREAKING GET YOU!!! YOUR LITTLE LORE BITS HAVE BEEN DRIVING ME INSANE!!!

I SWEAR ONE MORE AND I MIGHT COMBUST!

STOP BEING SO GOOD AT SAYING SO MUCH AND SO LITTLE IN ONE POST!!!

Not to mention but the fanart you have done for me in the past still brings a smile to my face whenever I find it in my fanart folder!

Never stop being so dang creative!

@grinnames

Hhiiiiiiiiii buddyyyyyy~

Fun tid bit about God Box AU Michael.

They know we exist.

They can see us.

Past the screen.

Teehee! But that out of the way your GodBox AU posts are always a pleasure to see! As someone who loves some good horror I lovingly enjoy each post!

I look forward to another lore drop on those bois. Especially maybe more of Mario as I'm intrigued about our spaghetti loving Italian.

@its-a-me-mango

Aye it's the doc!

The one and only Mango!

Your art is consistently just great eye candy for me.

Though I must repeat as I did to KamilyVision....

STOP DROPPING SUCH VAGUE LORE WITH LITTLE CONTEXT!!!! /J

IMMA FUCKING LOSE IT WITH THIS SHIT!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU MAN?! FMSKKDNFBDKWLKJFOSLWJBD

@tiredsmashbros

YOU....

I GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU BUCKO!!!!

STOP JUMPSCARING ME WITH FANART MAN!!! YOUR GONNA FRY MY DAMN CIRCUITS!!! YOU MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ITS NOT A BIG DEAL!??!!?! AND YOUR MOST LATEST ONE BEING FOR PRACTICE?! FUCKING HELLO?! LOOKS LIKE A FULL MASTERPIECE TO ME!!!

SO IN RETURN IM GIVING YOU FANART OF YOURSELF WITH ME FUCKING TEASING YOU!!! BITE ME!

@coralalala64

Youuuuuuuu........

Your damn angst almost every FREAKING TIME feels like you are personally putting your hand through my chest and yanking out my heart and squeezing it like it's a damn squeaker from a squeaky toy!

STOP BREAKING MY DAMN HEART!!!!!

YOU ARE SO STUPIDLY TALENTED AND ITS DRIVING ME INSANE WITH ALL THE WORK YOU DO!!!!

Keep up the good work but if I see another angst post anytime soon I'm going to implode and I'm taking you with me. /J

Okay that's all of you!

But yeah, hi all you lovely creators! You all are big inspirations of mine and I adore all your works in a unique way. Plenty of the things you all create have inspired me within my own art and series Change in Script! You guys are honestly amazing!

I can't wait to see what you all continue to create within or outside of the SMG4 community!

[thesupreme316]

aew wrestlers x female readers and their favorite positions in bed?

darius martin, dante martin, daniel garcia, hook, action andretti, ricky starks, eddie kingston, and i know they're not in aew, but could you add drilla moloney & charlie dempsey 🙏

AEW STARS AND: Their Favorite Sex Positions (18+)

Pairings: Darius Martin X Female Reader, Dante Martin X Female Reader, Hook X Female Reader, Ricky Starks X Female Reader, Daniel Garcia X Female Reader, Action Andretti X Female Reader, Eddie Kingston X Female Reader, Swerve Strickland X Female Reader,

Word Count: 1.3K

Supreme Speaks: heyyyy (sorry for being late per usual). thanks to my tumblr bae @hooks-martin for the request (for the last two, I didn't know anything about them but I traded them for swerve). i think this is the most explicit imagine of mine so plz take it easy on me. anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated. ALSO HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Warnings: Mature content (if you are a minor, please do not read), explicit content and images, explicit language and indications

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

**All the positions and their names be referenced from this website**

Hook: Cowgirl

I can just see it

Him on his back looking up at you and admiring the view; with a smirk

BUT DON’T GET IT TWISTED

He is very much in charge

Will command how fast or slow you go; he doesn’t care about the speed….but will change it if he’s punishing you

“You can ride me a lot faster can’t you baby girl?”

If he sees you getting tired (or he is punishing you), he will just drill up into you with no mercy (you’re riding a jackhammer now)

Frequently brings you down to kiss you (Watering Can position)

Loves it when you scratch his torso; it’s like you're leaving your mark/brand

I CAN SEE HIM REACHING UP AND CHOKING YO-

Just to see you squirm a bit more, he’ll talk in Italian

Tw: google translate

“Prendilo per me tesoro, so che puoi.” (Take it for me baby, I know you can.)

Action Andretti: Bizet

Again like I have said in the past

Man’s a sweetheart but also very shy

This is the perfect position since he probably might clam up if he looks into your eyes

Not in a bad way ofc

From this position, you can’t see him blush

So he wants to be as close to you as possible

And he also wants to be able to slip in at any given chance

I think he prefers slow thrusts so you both can feel everything and take in the moment

Loves to whisper in your ear

“It’s almost like your body was built for mine”

I see him as a tits person, so he squeezes them from behind

…

After careful consideration, yeah my answer is still the same he is a tit person

OVERALL HE IS A SWEETHEART

Dante Martin: Reverse Cowgirl

MMMMM THIS IS MY DREAM SO EXCUSE ME FOR THE PRIVAT-

MANS IS A ASS PERSON

Smacks/gropes your ass whenever

And is a switch too idc what you say; So I think this position gives you both control in a way

If he’s the sub, you’re controlling the pace and more so focused on your pleasure by rubbing yourself

If you’re the sub, MORE ASS SMACKIN not hard or anything (he’s a soft Dom if anything)

I also believe he will pull your hair back to the point your back is on his chest (just walk with me) and he pistons into you

Is a dirty talker too

“Fuck you feel incredible. Come for me”

But tbh I see him more as a sub in bed so…he slightly whimpers and whines in my mind

Will ask you to turn around so he can see your face

Like I said prior, he’s soft so I cannot see him being harsh or rough in bed

Darius Martin: Forbidden Fruit

Teehee

Man is a giver; A GIVER I TELL YOU

Giving you pleasure to the point where all you’re doing is screaming and losing your breath?

Teehee he lives for that

“You taste amazing love”

Loves it when you are on top

Eventually, the position turns into tiramisu or you riding his face

I don’t think he’s a sub all the way but more so a switch who really wants to please you

Tell Darius what to do an he will do it with no hesitation

For an “actual” position, I think he would love the scissor position

It’s very intimate for him and it gives him access to his favorite parts of you

I also think it would be the best position as he can see your facial expressions and give you extra stimulation

Again Darius would be all for your calls and satisfaction

Ricky Starks: Oasis

LITERALLY IT’S UP HIS ALLEY

He can see everything

Tits, Ass, Face, Neck, etc.

He likes to be up close and personal with you so he can kiss you at any point

Also, it’s easy likes to motorboat you

Side note; we all know he likes to be called daddy

So yes he will be referring to himself as Daddy

“Look at you being daddy’s good girl”

Sex-wise, Ricky is a full Dom you cannot make that man into a sub

if you do, he is the brattiest sub ever

Mostly a soft Dom but will turn up the (h)eat when necessary

He just loves being in control (speed, position, etc.)

SUCH A FUCKING TEASE; will intentionally slow down just to see you whine and beg for more

I think he will also convert Oasis into the cowgirl position

Overall, don’t give Ricky too much power

Eddie Kingston: Temptation

Okay let's have a real moment (pulls up chair) This man is so selfless that it’s crazy

For the most part, I can see him as a missionary man, because of the fact that he doesn’t want you to put in work

With temptation, he can see your face and know if he’s truly giving you pleasure

It’s also the perfect position to touch all the parts of you that can give more stimulation

AND YALL CAN DO IT EVERYWHERE

Eddie is a Dom; both a hard and soft Dom

He doesn’t want to go too harsh on you (unless you want it)

Control doesn’t matter to him tbh

Will actually do anything you ask him to because he’s so hung up on pleasing you

LOVES IT WHEN YOU TOUCH HIM OR SCRATCH HIS BACK

“Touch me like that again”

Will ensure that you have more orgasms than him

Eddie is a selfless man and puts your needs over his

Daniel Garcia: Chibi

We all know that DG is a switch (man is a bratty sub let's be honest)

But more important he is an ass man

Chibi stands out the most for me to him

With the position, he can go the pace either you or he wants to go

He can also grab or smack that booty whenever

GOES CRAZY WHEN YOU MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM

I can also see him in the Nirvana position

With Nirvana, he can kiss your legs

I wouldn’t say he has a foot fetish but at the same time yeah he does

WHICH IS THE SEXIEST PART OF YOU IN HIS EYES (besides the ass)

Take the time to appreciate other parts of you

I wouldn’t say he’s a dirty talker but he’s definitely a moaner

….

Even my ass can see that and I need glasses

Swerve Strickland: Doggy Style/Downward Dog

Okay….let me dream real quick

THIS MAN? IS A HARD DOM ALL THE WAY WE ALL KNEW FROM THAT DAMN DEATHMATCH

This man is my baby daddy/sugar daddy and he wishes to be called as such

You? You’re either a slut or a princess in his eyes (I’m bot-)

Loves Doggy Style cause it gives him so much control

Will pull your hair and lean down to whisper in your ear

“You like that, don't you? Lucky for you, I could do this forever.”

Will also pull you up until your back reaches his chest

OR OR

He will put your face down further into the mattress and make you arch your back for him (Downward Dog)

Loves to smack your ass and hear your muffled screams

Will overstimulate you until you tell him to stop

AND HE WILL LOOK OVER AT YOUR PANTING AND SWEATY BODY WITH A SMILE

otay…I’m done

[books4ever03]

It's Oh So Sweet (18+ Rosquez)

Tags: 18+, public blowjob, Marc is a menace, protective Marc, revenge sex

Minors do not interact!

Wordcount: 2.6k

After 1.043 days Marc finally wins a race again. At home in Spain no less. But what happens when he finds out that his brother got taken out by one of Rossi's pupils?

Put that together with some old resentment and anger towards the Italian and mix in Marc winning in Italy the week after as well as a meeting and you get this. Whatever this is.

English isn't my first language.

Find me on ao3: Booklover03

@eternalsams

________________________________________________

He did it. He fucking did it. After two years, ten months, one week and six days Marc has won a race again. And it feels absolutely fantastic. As he crosses the finish line he doesn’t hide his pride. His excitement. So much hard work, so much pain and errors he had to endure. But it was all worth it. Every damn second. Marc feels unstoppable as he pulls into parc ferme. His team and family are already waiting for him with big smiles and cheers. Jumping off the bike as soon as he can he sprints towards them, falling into their arms and letting the pats and punches wash over him. He looks around for Alex, last time he saw his baby brother was third and Marc can’t wait to share another podium with him. To share his joy. His brows furrow in confusion when he spots Jorge and Pedro pull in behind him. Turning back to his team he sees a familiar figure out of his leathers and disappointment in his eyes, even though he tries to hide it with a big smile. But Marc knows his brother better than that. Pulling him into a tight hug he demands, “Tell me what happened.” Because he knows that Alex didn’t crash on his own. Not with the way his entire body is tense and the entire team goes silent as they watch their exchange. Something happened and they don’t want to tell him. Wrong decision.

Marc takes his brother’s face and gives him that look where the younger man knows there’s no way for him to escape before he answers. “It was Bagnaia. Rossi’s perfect little soldier.” But it’s not Alex who says it, even though the younger man’s eyes flash dangerously at the mention of a certain Italian. Marc slowly turns to look at their mother whose expression can only be described as thunderous as he processes what she just said. Ever since 2015 his mother has disliked the man who had hurt her boy. And that dislike had only grown with every instance that happened after that. When 2019 happened she had refused to speak his name or even acknowledge his existence. Marc has no doubt that if she were to run across him, they’d have to bail her out of the local police station holding cell. He’d take her out to one of her favourite restaurants right after and spoil her rotten for days but that’s a completely different story. Right now he’s looking at Alex whose jaw is clenched so hard he worries the younger’s teeth will shatter any minute. There is a fury in his eyes that awakens something deep inside of Marc. A similar feeling though much older. It had been years since he had last waisted any drop of emotion on the Italian, finally deciding that the man was not worthy of his thoughts. But here he was again. Wesleying his way back into Marc’s head and using not only his protege to do it but also Alex. The person Marc loves more than anyone else in the world.

He’d go to war for his brother who had to endure far too much already from the Italian and his people with his only crime being that he’s Marc’s little brother. “I will not stand for this. He’s taken things too far once again,” Marc says in a low voice and while his mother gives him a small but feral smile, his father just looks at him with tired eyes. It makes him look older, that look of disappointment and disapproval and it doesn’t sit right with Marc. But he can’t stand by while his baby brother gets caught in the crossfire. With a silent plea to understand directed at his father Marc squeezes Alex’s neck one last time before he’s being pulled away by an official for his interview. Before he knows it he’s up on the top step of the podium, the masses screaming his name while he’s being sprayed by Jorge and Pedro. He lets himself enjoy it while he can. He’ll deal with Pecco and the Italian later. Now he’ll let himself be celebrated like a hero who has just returned home after years of absence. And it is glorious.

As soon as he’s off the podium and manages to persuade his team to let him go take a shower he makes a b-line for the motorhome of his future teammate. He doesn’t bother changing out of his leathers. That can wait. First he needs to have a little chat with Bagnaia. He’s seen the footage of the crash and yes, while it could have been avoided, it was a racing incident. Both riders saw a line, an opportunity and went for it, neither of them baking down. That’s racing. Even if some people will never look at it like that. Marc knows this better than anyone. He doesn’t have to wait long after knocking for the door to open and a very exhausted looking Bagnaia standing in front of him. The younger man’s shoulders drop as soon as he sees just who’s come knocking and Marc can see that he’s bracing himself for a verbal lashing. Well, he’ll have to disappoint him.

“Are you okay?” He asks instead and watches with amusement as confusion takes over the rider’s face. “Some bruising. All okay. Alex?” Marc gives him a small smile, hoping that it will distract from the way he knows his eyes are burning. “He is the same. Maybe wait until next weekend to talk to him. You are going to talk to him, yes?” It feels more like an accusation than he means to but it does the job. The young Italian stands up taller and determination so similar to someone else fills his eyes. “Of course,” Bagnaia replies before nervously scratching the back of his neck when Marc stays silent. “I am sorry that it happened, of course. I hope we are okay?” It comes out hesitant and for a split second Marc sees the real Pecco. Not the golden boy protege persona he puts on for the media. For him. Marc looks him up and down, deciding the best way to approach this. “We are,” he says and watches the other rider visibly relax. “Counter to someone’s beliefs I am not looking for trouble. Especially not with a future teammate.”

The younger man doesn’t show it but Marc knows they both know who he means. Taking a step closer he smiles when the other doesn’t retreat. It’s going to be fun to see just how far the two of them will push each other next season, he thinks. “I want you to give him a message for me, yes? Tell him,” he says, breaking off for a moment just to see the younger man squirm a bit at the proximity. “Tell him that he can say about me whatever he wants. That he can even put his little lap dog and pupils on me on and off track. But-,” Another pause. “Keep Alex out of it. My brother has done nothing to him and still suffered for my - no, for our - mistakes. He has lost more than enough because of it all And I will not stand for it a single moment longer.” With a slightly feral smile Marc pulls back, letting the poor boy breathe again. “You will tell him, yes? Please? I would really appreciate it.” And with a pat on the younger man’s shoulder, he turns around and goes back to his own motorhome for a long awaited shower before he heads out to the club to celebrate some more. He did just win a race at home after all.

Even a week later the euphoria is still there and there’s a kick in his step as he walks through the paddock. He’s in enemy territory which always gives him that extra thrill. But today is special. Not only is he on pole - again - with Bagnaia starting a few positions behind him - again - but today is special. Because a certain curly haired Italian is in the paddock, only two garages down from his. And if that knowledge doesn’t send a tingle down Marc’s spine. He can hardly keep his grin in check as he makes his way onto the grid where his team is already waiting with the bike.

Part of him really hopes that Bagnaia passed on his message. It would be such a shame if he didn’t. But judging from the glares Bezzecchi keeps sending him all weekend, Marc has a pretty strong feeling that his message was passed on to someone. Speaking of the devil, the younger rider glares at him as he passes and Marc can’t help but mess with him, sending him a wink with a cheeky grin. If he does a questionable motion with his hand and tongue too no one needs to know. But he does throw his head back with a laugh at the deep red blush creeping up Bezzecchi’s neck as he remembers their encounter in the club’s bathroom the week before. Oh yeah, Marc’s going to enjoy teasing him about that. But first, he has a race to win.

There’s a comfortable gap between him and Bagnaia and Bezzecchi so after one last look over his shoulder he leans back on the bike, crossing his arms in front of his chest. No one can see it but he’s grinning under his helmet. And he knows if he looks into a mirror right now his gaze would be predatory. Because he already knows that he’ll be getting a visit later. And if that isn’t exciting. Once again he celebrates with the team, does the interview and makes his way up to the podium. But this time he’s flanked by two Italians in front of their home crowd. You could cut the tension with a knife. As soon as the last note of the Spanish anthem ends he’s sprayed with Prosecco from both sides before he gets even. Marc takes his time with Bezzecchi, making sure to aim right at his face and mouth, daring him to open it and swallow. But the younger man is stubborn as ever causing Marc to grin at him cheekily, sending him a wink before he turns his attention to his team.

He’s still on the high of his win when he walks back to his motorhome, still in his leathers that are now drenched in sweat and Prosecco. When he walks up to it, he sees a familiar figure leaning against the side of it in the shadows. If you didn’t know him, you’d miss him completely. But Marc knows him. He knows it every time that the other man is in his vicinity. A smug expression settles on Marc’s face but he quickly scolds it as he gets closer. Let the man think he’s the one with all the control. Let him believe that he still has power of Marc. For a moment he acts like he doesn’t see the man and just keeps walking when a hand shoots out from the shadows and wraps itself around his wrist in a tight grip. The Spaniard suppresses a smug grin. The game has officially begun. And he doesn’t plan on losing. He’s on a winning streak after all. It’s showtime. Feigning surprise he lets himself be pulled into the shadows and caged against the wall of his motorhome. He lets out a small curse that sounds like he just got scared. “Marc.” Taking a shuddering breath he swallows hard before replying. “Rossi."

Because he’s no longer Vale - not even Valentino - to him. No, that was a long time ago. And he won’t give in just yet. Make the Italian work for it a little bit. “It was a good race.” Marc wets his lips and a thrill shoots up his spine when he sees the older man’s eyes tracking the movement. So he does it again just to feel the way the hand around his wrist tightens just the tiniest bit. “It was,” he says, playing up the breathiness of his voice. “Why are you here, Vale? Why are you doing this? Why now?” He asks, breathless and makes a show of flickering his attention from the Italian’s lips to his eyes and back. Marc doesn’t miss the way the older man’s breath catches at the use of his nickname, his piercing eyes trained on the Spaniard’s lips as they form each letter. “Vale?” It comes out a bit whiny, just the way Marc knows he likes it.

He watches with satisfaction as the Italian’s control seems to waver with every passing second. Rossi curses under his breath. “I wanted to talk to you,” the older rider says while simultaneously leaning closer. Now their bodies are touching from head to toe and Marc can feel the way it’s affecting the Italian. Marc isn’t unaffected about this either, his leathers growing tighter. “Pecco told me your message.” The Spaniard hums, tipping his head back to look up at the man with heavy lidded eyes. “Is that all?” He asks and sneaks his hands down until they rest on the Italian’s waist. “I also wanted to congratulate you. For the win in Spain,” Rossi says, though his voice is rough and no louder than a whisper. Feeling daring, Marc brings his face closer, so close that their lips are slightly brushing against each other as he says, “Then congratulate me. Show me what I deserve for winning again.” It’s a dare, a dangerous one and for a moment he’s not sure if he just pushed too far and ruined everything.

But those worries disappear as quickly as Rossi sinks to his knees, opening Marc’s leathers as he goes down. The Spaniard watches him like a hawk, not wanting to miss even a single second, not even taking his eyes off the man when his cock is suddenly enveloped in wet heat. Letting out a slight hiss, he quickly buries his hand in the familiar curls, just resting there. Because he knows as soon as he pushes or tries to set a pace this game is over. Because as much as Rossi loves a dick in his mouth, he doesn’t like being told how to do it. So Marc just watches, groaning and moaning as the other man sinks down deeper on his cock, his throat fluttering around it. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast Rossi can still get him to the edge but right now Marc doesn’t care. All he cares about is that he has the Valentino Rossi on his knees for him, with his dick in his mouth and hungry for his cum. And who is Marc to deny him that?

Without a warning he thrusts his hips forward while simultaneously pushing the Italian’s head down, forcing himself as deep as possible as he crashes over the edge. Both of them are panting when Rossi slowly pulls off Marc’s spent cock, a string of cum breaking only when the older man flicks out his tongue. The Spaniard regards him for a moment, taking in the picture he makes with his hair all messy and face flushed. Not waiting for Rossi to get back up from his knees, Marc tugs himself away and zips his leathers back up just enough to be deemed decent. Looking down at the man who was once his idol, his hero, his friend and even his lover, he tilts his head and hums. “You should talk to little Marco. You could learn a thing or two from him.” And off he goes, leaving the Italian on his knees, stunned and confused, still hard in his trousers and cum dribbling down his chin.

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 5:

Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

"What a race! WHAT A FUCKING RACE!" Charles yelled as I jumped out of my car, straight into his arms "P20 to P2!" he hugged me tight and we jumped around.

"And another win for you!" I yelled back at him and our team surrounded us. After yesterdays race with Charles being disqualified and me retiring with only 3 tires left after Albon drove straight into me and the damage at my car meaning I needed a new well almost everything and had to start at the back of the grid, this P1-P2 felt amazing.

"You two did amazing!" Dad hugged first me and then Charles, then Arthur and Lorenzo did the same.

"You were flying Lizzie!" Arthur almost screamed it.

"Thanks Arthi!" I laughed and we were ushered away for the podium ceremony.

"If you keep driving like that, Ferrari will come knocking on your door rather sooner than later!" I said to Charles as he draped his arm around my shoulders and walked up to the podium with me.

"You’re the one who drove from P20 to P2! In a sprint race! They will come knocking on your door as well!" he said and I only chuckled. I knew that it would be way harder for me to get a seat in F1 as a girl.

The next weekend was Monza and Charles had the best weekend of the season, topping every session, driving on pole, leading every lap of both races and had the fastest lap in both as well. The Italian fans were loving him and I heard some people even screaming 'Charles for Ferrari 18'. I on the other hand, had the worst weekend, 2 DNFs due to engine failures.

"I’m so sorry, Lizzie! We’ll get you back on podium next race, promise!" René said and I just nodded, as Charles approached.

"Ma belle, what a mess!" he pulled me into his arms and I basked in his warmth. He stroke my back gently and I could feel my bad mood melting away "You'll be back on top next time! I know it! And the podium without you sucks!"

"Thanks, Charlie bear!" I whispered and together we walked back to our team. As we came closer René was waving us over to him, while talking to a man who stood in front of him, his back to us.

"What’s up?" Charles asked as the man turned around and Fred Vasseur, Team Principle of the Sauber F1 Team smiled at us.

"Charles, nice to meet you officially! Lizzie, good to see you again!" he said and we shook his hand.

"Charles, could you come with us for a second?" René asked and I understood that this was my cue to leave, but Charles held me close.

"Everything you want to talk about, Lizzie can hear, I’ll tell her anyway right after…" he said and Fred nodded while René just rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Charles, I’m getting straight to the point. We were all amazed by your season! We want you to drive for us next season." Fred said and I could feel Charles holding his breath "What are you saying?" Charles was speechless and he only starred at Fred.

"He’s saying 'Thank you so much for this chance! I will give my very best! Thank you!'" I said it and Charles only nodded.

"Well, then let’s set up a meeting in some time to go through the details! Welcome to Formula 1, Charles!" Fred said and Charles exhaled loudly.

"Thank you! God! I’m so… thank you so much for… I’m sorry, I’m rambling! Thank you so much for this chance!" Charles said and Fred patted his shoulder as he only laughed.

"It’s alright, have a nice celebration! You deserve it!" with that he left.

"Congrats, Charles! You really deserve it!" René said and hugged Charles, then he squeezed my shoulder and walked away, leaving us alone.

"Charlie, you did it! You’re racing in Formula 1 next year! All we’ve ever dreamed off is coming true! I’m so proud of you! So proud!" I said and hugged him close to me "They would be so proud of you! You made it!"

I could feel tears on my neck and Charles inhaled sharply "I never had any doubt that you would make it!"

After a while, Charles gently pushed himself off of me, wiped his face and looked at me.

"I would never come this far without you, ma belle!" he said it quietly and I only smiled "I made it, Lizzie? Can you believe it?"

"I can, Charlie bear! Let’s go! You have to tell it everyone! We have to celebrate! What a weekend!" I said and we walked towards our families.

Dad stood up, lifting his glass and clearing his throat, we all looked up at him.

"Alright, everyone, let’s raise our glasses to Charles! Not only were you racing like from another planet this weekend, you also got your seat in Formula 1 next year! I think I speak for all of us when I say we are so very proud of you! And I know, there are two really important people missing here tonight, who should be here with us, celebrating you, but one thing is for sure, would they be here, they would be so so proud of you, Charles! So, cheers to you and this big step in your career! To Charles!" we all raised our glasses and toasted "To Charles!" who only blushed a little and smiled shyly, then he got up and hugged Dad.

"Thank you! Thank you all so much!" he said and looked at us, Pascale to my right wiped away some tears as Mum handed her a tissue, Enzo and Arthur smiling like crazy, Nicholas and Dad looking proud, and I was just smiling the whole night at him. He nodded his head towards the terrace doors and left. I excused myself and got up, following him. He stood at the banister of the terrace, looking up at the night sky. I stepped next to him and bumped our shoulders together.

"Hey Charlie bear." I whispered and he chuckled.

"Will you ever stop calling me that?" he sighed and grinned at me.

"Hmm let me think… ok, yes, I will stop calling you that when you are the World Champion!" I answered and his eyes widened for a second, but then he nodded once "Deal?"

"Deal!" he said and we laughed.

We stood there like this for some minutes as I shivered and Charles pulled me into him.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie…" he whispered and I looked up at him, confused "We were all celebrating me, that no one even checked on you after this weekend! I also was totally caught up! I’m sorry! And now we’re celebrating me getting into F1, but what’s with you?"

"It’s ok, Charles! This is your moment! Don’t think about me, I’ll be fine!" I answered truthfully, because for the past almost 2 years I had realised one thing. I might be a good driver, even a very good one. But I’m a girl and although we always said that it doesn’t matter, at the end of the day it did. No team would offer me a seat "Let’s be honest, it was wishful thinking, we both driving in F1… you might lose me on the grid, but you just won your biggest supporter off of it!"

"No, Lizzie, stop that! We…" he started but I shook my head.

"We both, what am I saying, we all knew that I would never make it into F1, Charles! I’m a girl. Nothing will change that fact!" I said as the terrace door opened and Dad looked outside.

"You guys ready? We’re leaving." he said and I nodded.

"Come on, Charles. Let’s go." I said and walked away, leaving Charles behind, asking himself if they were all maybe really delusional.

"I can’t believe that she was hiding that from us!" I whispered and pulled my knees to my chest "I always knew that something was so wrong with him! He’s a fucking asshole! How he always ordered her around and planned out how she had to work through her pregnancy while he does nothing? But Charles! He hit her! Twice? How did we not know that?" I shivered and swallowed hard.

"I don’t know Lizzie, but she’s here now! And we’ll take care of her and the baby! She’ll be safe!" he sat down next to me, his hand on my knee and I leaned my head on his shoulder "He will never have a chance to touch her again!"

"Mum and Dad were always so caught up with me, that Sissy and Marcus were always kind of left on their own…" I said and Charles shook his head.

"Stop it, don’t try to make it look like it’s your fault, Lizzie! The only one to blame is him! Besides it’s not like they were little kids looking after themselves! They were teens!" his voice was stern.

"It’s just… I have a bad feeling, you know? The way he said that we all will regret it… the way he looked at her? At me?" I shivered and Charles put his arm around my shoulders.

"He won’t come near you!" Charles reassured me and I nodded slowly.

How could I, we all, miss what was going on? Was it really because we were all so caught up with me and racing that we missed what he did?

In the following weeks Sissy settled back down at home, Dad continued his project in building her a flat above the garage so she could stay even after the birth of the baby, far away from her ex who tried to contact her more than once. I insisted that Dad stayed at home with her and Mum in case something happened and went alone to the next races, I had Charles and Lorenzo there, sometimes even Arthur, that was more than enough.

The last race of the season was the start of Charles first season in Formula 1. After winning the Formula 2 Championship officially, he had some test drivings to do with Sauber and I stayed with him, watching him driving around the circuit. Always when he came back into the garage his smile was bigger than the whole sky. And I only could mirror it. The past few weeks Charles and I often talked about his upcoming season in F1 and how it was still possible for me to race alongside him. But the truth was inevitable, there were no seats available and if so I wouldn’t make it. Only a handful of women had made it into Formula 1 and of those only 2 were actually driving in the race. And that was a long time ago. Gender equality is not really considered in F1.

"Maybe I could talk to the team? Have you as reserve driver? Than maybe more?" Charles started but I shook my head.

"I’m driving in F2, Charles. It’s all settled with René!" I said and he looked at me dumbfounded "I wanted to tell you as soon as it’s all done and I’m 100% sure of what I’m doing next year."

"Oh ma belle! I’m so happy for you! But honestly René would be stupid, no? Not having you for another year?" he laughed and hugged me tight, then he kissed my temple and let go of me.

After the last test, I flew back home to Germany, Charles back home to Monaco. We had all planned to celebrate Christmas and New Year together again in Verbier and it was on New Year’s Day, when we were cleaning up bottles and the glitter from the floor, when I realised that this was it. Charles and I were no longer racing together. All the weekends spent together, all the trips to the races, the time in between, all the evenings spent together in our hotel rooms. It was all over. I inhaled sharply and had to suppress a sob, but Charles stood next to me in an instant, eyes questioning.

"It’s nothing, I’m okay…" I whispered but he held my shoulders and looked at me and I crumbled, a tear escaping my eye and he hugged me.

"What’s going on, ma belle?" he asked and I laughed quietly.

"Charlie bear, it’s over… you and me… you’re in F1 now, I’m in F2… we’re not racing together anymore…" I said between hiccups.

"I know… I don’t know how I will survive without you!" he whispered and I nodded.

"Me neither… I’m so used to see you all the time, sharing a hotel room, always being together, I think at this point I can’t even sleep without you in the room…" I answered.

"The weekends when you’re racing at the same track like me, it’s going to be like always! And in between you accompany me as much as possible!" he said and I chuckled.

"Deal?" I asked and he laughed.

"Deal!" he said and we continued cleaning up the mess from the night before.

Maybe things won’t change that much.

The new year came with new tasks for Charles, promotional work here, photoshoots there, the car launch, more test drives, tire tests, the first pre season test.

Before the real start of the season in Australia in a month, my season would start 2 weeks later in Bahrain and I had some tests done myself. The car felt good, my new team mate Nyck was a funny Dutch guy and we got along pretty well, but he was no Charles and I already started to miss him.

"How is she? I mean considering that…" Charles starts but then stops immediately.

"Considering her useless, aggressive and abusive ex kicked her out of their flat, told her he doesn’t want a kid but now threatens to sue her if she’s not putting his name on the birth certificate?" I finished and he just nodded "Well she’s doing ok, I mean it’s a good thing that the flat is almost done and she can stay at home for good."

"It’s good that she can stay at home, out of reach of her ex, that fucking loser." Charles answered and I just laughed "Does she know about it?"

"Mum and I did the last touches in the nursery yesterday. By the time they can leave, everything is ready. And no, she doesn’t know. She would just be mad if Dad would’ve told her from the beginning what he was planning. Mum and Dad said we will sort it all out as soon as the little one was born and we’ll go from there. She was looking for flats still, but nothing was really affordable or when it was it was to far away, she wanted to stay close to us." I said and Charles parked the car.

"I get that, having a baby all alone is probably not that easy." he said I just laughed "Although they’re cute af."

"Yeah, but everything that comes with them? Not so much!" I chuckled and we got out of the car, Charles grabbed the huge flower bouquet and we walked into the hospital. As we stepped onto the mother child ward my sister was stationed we bumped into Dad. He hugged us both and then said already his goodbyes.

"All good?" I asked him and he turned around.

"Yeah, just the last of the kitchen cabinets got delivered and I want to finish the kitchen today. Then we only have her bedroom left and it’s done. Bathroom and nursery were completed yesterday. Living room looks only like a chaos because of the kitchen." he answered and I nodded.

"We won’t stay for too long and then come right up and help you, maybe we can start with her bedroom later on as well!" Charles said and Dad thanked him, then left.

"Ready to meet him?" I asked and Charles smiled from ear to ear. I gently knocked on the door and opened it quietly.

Mum sat in a chair, next to the little crib were baby Liam slept. My sister, looking tired, sat in her bed. As she saw us she smiled. I walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"How’s my little lad?" I asked and walked over to greet Mum.

"Sleepy, but happy!" she answered and Charles walked up to Sissy.

"Congrats baby mama!" he said and hugged her gently, then gave her a kiss on each cheek. He handed her the bouquet and Sissy’s eyes widen.

"Thank you, Charles! But did you leave any flowers left at the store?" she chuckled and mum got up, after a quick hug and hello to Charles she left to get a vase.

"So, how are you?" Charles asked and Sissy just shrugged her shoulders.

"Good I guess? Bit tired and exhausted and honestly I can’t wait to leave this place and have some real food! Liam is healthy as well, that’s the most important thing right now." she answered and Charles just nodded.

"The rest, we’ll figure out!" I said as her phone vibrates, she rolled her eyes as she looked at it "Is it him again?"

"Yeah, he wants to know when he can see him…" she mumbled and I got angry.

"What about never?" I said and she just shook her head.

"At one point I’ll have to let him see him." she answered and I groaned.

"Yes, see him as in, you’re not alone one second with him and he won’t hold him, we hold him, he can see him, maybe hold his hand and then he leaves!" I said and she just smiled.

"Calm down, mama bear!" Sissy chuckled.

"No, she’s right! Even though I wouldn’t let him that near to actually touch him!" Charles added and I nodded agreeing.

"Ok, you two, put your claws back in! We will see what’s happening! For now, I think he’s about to wake up!" she sighed and I saw how Liam started to stir in his crib. I got out of the chair, washed my hands and leaned down to carefully pick him up.

"Hey bubba, how’s my pretty boy today?" I cood at him and he babbled, Charles stepped closer and looked at Liam with big eyes, I looked over at my sister who just nodded "Bubba, it’s time for you to meet your uncle Charles, come on!"

Charles looked between me and my sister and then gulps, he moves quickly and washes his hands before he walks back with a shy smile.

"I never held a baby that tiny!" he said nervously and Sissy just smiled.

"You’ll be fine, Lizzie will help you!" she said and I lay the little baby carefully in his arms. For the first couple of seconds Charles didn’t move, just held him exactly the way I laid Liam down in his arms, I was even sure he held his breath for some seconds.

"Breathe, Charles, you’re doing great!" Sissy said and Charles looked up, he walked over to her and sat down on the chair next to her bed "There is actually something I wanted to ask you…" she began after a while and Charles looked up from Liam who already fell asleep again in Charles warm arms.

"Okay?" he said slowly and glanced over at me, I just smiled at him and took a picture of the both boys to send it to Pascale.

"So… uhm, I was wondering if you… you know if you wanted to be Liam’s godfather? He needs some good guys as role models in his life and there are only a few I know that are as good as you and… well yeah Lizzie is going to be his godmother so I thought that would be a perfect fit?" she asked and Charles eyes widened.

"You really want me to be his godfather?" he whispered and looked up at her as she nodded.

"Yes, I really want you to be his godfather!" she smiled and as Charles looked down at Liam I saw a tear run down his cheek, as he looked up again his eyes were glassy.

"Yes! Yes! Of course!" he answered and I smiled as Liam opened his eyes "Hey Liam, I’m your godfather! I will secure you a seat in F1 one day!" he whispered and gently stroke his cheek and looked at him all lovingly and my heart swelled.

"I still can’t believe it, godfather!" he mumbled and I pouted a little.

"Usually it should’ve been my kid you’re the godfather of first! That’s how it works with best friends!" I answered and Daniel, who joined us in helping to set up Sissy’s bedroom, just laughed.

"He can’t be his own kids’ godfather…" he whispered and I looked up at him, not sure if I understood him correctly.

"What did you say?" I asked quietly.

"You heard me!" he just said and walked over to Charles and helped him with the mirror. I didn’t notice Charles look and how he had blushed or Daniel‘s smug smile.

"Careful with the closet, we can’t push it against the wall, it has to dry first!“ I said as Charles and Daniel clipped in the mirror door and then set up the closet. I looked around the room, the paint was drying. Bed, two bedside tables, a set of drawers and the closet all set up, just waiting to be pushed in to their designated spaces.

"I guess you’re done." said Dad as he walked in and I nodded "Thank you two for helping!"

"What about me?" I pouted but Dad just laughed and pulled me to his side.

"Thank you, Lizzie for helping setting up the bedroom of YOUR sister! In the flat that was partly YOUR idea!" he said and I laughed "Pizza is coming in the next 10-15 minutes!" and with that he left.

"Partly your idea?" Charles asked and I just sighed.

"Yeah I mean, look I never liked her ex! He was awful! And when she got pregnant and that fucking asshole kicked her out, I told Dad that she would never move back in, only temporary until she found something else! And I understand, with a kid she can’t just stay in her bedroom and that’s it, she needed her own flat but she would be alone so something close would be convenient! And Dad always wanted to build a loft above the garage! Two birds, one stone!" I said and Charles nudged my shoulder.

"Awww little Lizzie looking out for her sister!" he teased and Daniel laughed.

"Lizzie I-wish-I-was-an-only-child Doetterer, how adorable of you!" he laughed and I hit him.

"Ok, we got it!" I just sighed and the guys started laughing.

"My ice princess is melting!" Charles laughed and I glared at him.

"I’m no ice princess! I’m no princess at all!" I pouted and they laughed even harder.

"Yeah to me you never were! But to your siblings you always were!" Charles stated and I shook my head.

"Grow up with them! You would understand! But right now, you’re an even bigger pain in the ass than them!" I said and left the room.

"Nervous?" I asked him.

"Yes? No? More excited?!" Charles answered and I smiled at him.

"You’ll do amazing!" I said and he nodded once, then looked around.

"I just don’t want to disappoint these guys!" he whispers and I nod.

"Charles, you’re going out there and give your very best and whatever happens, happens! You will be amazing! I believe in you!" I said it firmly and he smiled a little, then he nodded to his race engineer and his mechanics and I handed him his balaclava and before he put it on he side hugged me and kissed my temple.

"Thanks, ma belle, for everything." he whispered and then it was time for me to leave the grid, only drivers and team members allowed.

"Good luck, Charlie bear!" I said and with that I made my way back to the garage, as I walked past the pit wall Fred gave me the thumbs up and I did the same and he smiled.

"I drove like a fucking rookie!" Charles was furious after his first race that ended with him in P16.

"Charles, I’m so sorry! Shit, how do I tell you this?…" I began and he looked at me confused "You are a fucking rookie!"

"Lizzie, that’s not funny!" he sighed but I only laughed.

"Charles, it was your first race! And you’re a rookie! So stop being that hard on yourself! It was a decent first race and after the safety car it was over anyway…" I said and he just shrugged his shoulders.

"I know… but I wanted to start with a good race into the season…" he whispered and I smiled.

"It doesn’t matter how you start a season…" I began and he smiled as well now.

"…what matters is how you finish it!" he ended my sentence, no, his Dads sentence and he hugged me tight to his body "Thanks, ma belle!"

The next races weren’t any easier for Charles, but he managed to pull through and got better every week. My heart swelled with pride whenever I saw his name getting higher and higher with each weekend.

It was time for my second season in F2 and it started with a bang, first race, first pole, first win, second in the sprint race. Charles watched whenever he could and as I jumped out of my car after I’ve won, he was there to congratulate me.

"The others won’t have a chance this year! You’ll crush them!" he shouted as he hugged me.

And he was right, the next races I’ll ended on the podium as well, not always winning, but top 3. After 5 races I was already 37 points ahead of Norris. Charles was always there to support me whenever he could, as I was always there to support him whenever I could. His season was slowly getting better and at Baku he finally drove into the points.

"Charles! You just got your first points in Formula 1!" I screamed and hugged him tight. "Here in Baku! It’s a special place for you!" I whispered and he smiled.

"I couldn’t have made it this far without you!" he answered and I shook my head but he held me close "Yes! Without you I wouldn’t be here!"

"And I wouldn’t be here without you!" I replied and kissed his cheek. Someone took a picture of it and the next day it was featured on one of the F1 WAGs gossip pages, branding me the "New WAG in town".

"Can you believe that? They mention your name but nowhere that you’re a driver as well! Like not one word?" Charles was furious, but as it seemed not that they implied we were a couple, but for the fact that they didn’t say I was a driver as well.

"It doesn’t bother you that they’re saying we’re a couple? But it bothers you that they’re not saying that I’m a driver as well?" I laughed and he looked at me dumbfounded.

"Oh… yeah well I mean that’s nothing bad, but not mentioning at all that you’re a driver as well? That you’re this close to win the championship this year? Yeah that’s pissing me off!" he said and my heart skipped a beat as he just smiled his adorable smile.

"Did he tried to contact her again?" he asked and I nodded as I smiled at the waiter bringing us our drinks "And?"

"He wants to see him, otherwise he will get a lawyer. I call bullshit! He has no money for that and no foundation for suing? He abused her, we have proof. She called the police twice, he kicked her out out their flat and all her neighbours heard it, they can all testify what he said to her! He threatened Mum and Dad…"I rambled

"He did what?" he interrupted me and looked furious.

"Yeah, couple of weeks ago he stood at our door demanding to see her, Mum said no, he threatened to ‘go through her’ then Dad came to the door and he said he’s not afraid of Dad and could easily take him out." I sighed and Charles looked like he was about to explode.

"If he ever comes near our family I swear I’ll kill him myself!" I never saw him fuming like this before "I’m serious."

"I have no doubt, Charles. But you in prison is not really helpful!" I tried to calm him down, although my heart fluttered at him saying 'our family'.

"Probably, but he needs to be gone. Leave you alone!" he answered and I nodded.

"She’s never alone, don’t worry. We’re taking care of her!" I said.

"Lizzie I’m not just talking about her! You all need to take care!" he sighed "Especially you! I’ve seen the way he always looked at you, you never liked him and he knows that!"

"I’ll be careful, I promise." I answered and he nodded " But now enough of that drama, we’re having summer break! You’re in your first F1 season, I’m in F2 leading the ranking, we’re at the beach and have some cold drinks! I say we enjoy ourselves! The season is long! And I have a feeling it’s going to be a season to remember!"

————————————————————————

Little Note:

That's it, chapter 5 is out - it’s a weird one, a lot happens, a lot of time jumps, sorry 🙈

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts! I'm open to any criticism, bad or good, it doesn't matter!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

All pictures are from Google, Pinterest, Instagram, etc.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Hello Neighbour (3)

Pairing: DILF!Neighbour!Bucky Barnes x Reader

previous chapter: Part 2

words: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of grown-up time but nothing really, mentions of food and wine.

a/n: So here’s another chapter, this series was not at all planned and just happened hehe, but I love these two!! thank you so much for all your love and I hope you like this chapter as well. Let me know if you would like to see more of them. Feedback and Reblogs are appreciated. (picture used taken from google)

Friday. At about five in the evening, there was a knock on your door. Punctual, Mr. Barnes.

You decided to wear a dress you were saving for something special. Nothing too fancy but really really cute.

The door revealed the handsome man standing in a buttoned white shirt, and navy trousers. Top buttons, undone, sleeves rolled up. Was that allowed? You thought as you stared at him up and down, while he was doing the same.

“Wow.” He managed to speak out. “You’re so beautiful” His cheeks tinted red as you smiled for him. “Got you flowers. They are not as pretty as you but I tried.”

“Oh Bucky, you’re too sweet.” With a soft chuckle, you went back in to keep the flowers in a vase. “You always look good Bucky” You told him, chewing on your lower lip. Oh he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“Ready for our date, flower?”

“Flower?”

“You like it? Well you’re sweet, beautiful, soft and you smell great. So, flower.” He added with a bashful smile.

You could only nod and smile, words failing you again. Bucky offered you his arm and you softly wrapped your hand around it.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

A little Italian restaurant, cozy and warm, by the side of a lake. So gorgeous. Bucky thought while he looked at you.

“This- this is so beautiful.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“I’m glad you like it. The restaurant isn’t very fancy but it’s cozy and they have amazing food.” Bucky looked at you. “Plus a gorgeous view. oh and that lake.”

“Oh Bucky.” you couldn’t help but giggle at his cheesy flirting, it all felt so sweet and genuine when he said it.

“Let’s order shall we?”

After placing your order, and getting the wine, Bucky slowly reached out across the table to hold your hand softly.

“Hi Neighbour.”

“Hi Neighbour.” You smiled. He was so breathtakingly handsome. The sun set casted a warm glow on his face. You felt like clicking a picture just to save it in your memories. But Bucky beat you to it.

“Flower, can I click a picture of yours? Gosh, you look so beautiful.” You bit your lip and nodded, a big smile graced your face. He took out his phone clicking a few pictures.

“May I click yours now? I want to, please” And you did.

“Bucky, I’ll be honest, this date, it feels really special. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome pretty girl. Thank you for saying yes.”

You both exchanged smiles, taking a sip of the wine. A question popped in your head but you weren’t sure if it was too personal.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Becca’s mother…”

“Right, I’m sorry, should have said that earlier but you know I…” He looked down at the table, “Well I’m divorced. When Becca was born, within a few months her mother felt she wasn’t ready for any of it, and she wanted out.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have want asked about it, I just- sorry if I made you sad by bringing it up.”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I’m fine with it now. She hasn’t been in the picture since the divorce, never wanted to know about her own daughter.” Bucky gulped, and you squeezed his hand softly, “Becca deserves someone who would know what a treasure she is.” You nodded.

The rest of the evening passed by smoothly with some extremely delicious Italian food. You got to know more about each other and realised you had quite some things in common.

You were both competitive at board games, enjoyed being at the beach, big fans of taking naps and loved Disney movies, among other things.

Arriving back at your building, Bucky walked you to your apartment, your hand in his own.

“Thank you Bucky, I had such a wonderful time.”

“Me too, flower, and I’m glad to know that.” He gave you his signature charming smile. The two of you stood outside your door.

“So…”

“Well I’ve a got a babysitter for Becs and she should be here for another one hour” Bucky mumbled while softly pulling you close. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Any ideas about how you want to spend that one hour” you asked him coyly, drawing soft patterns on the back of his neck.

“Oh, I’ve got some.” Bucky closed the distance between you too, crashing his lips on yours as you fumbled to unlock your door and get in.

As soon as you were in, Bucky closed the door behind, pulling you towards the sofa, not breaking the kiss.

“Gosh you’re so pretty, flower” He sat down, you on his lap, as he kept kissing you like he couldn’t breathe without you. Not that you complained.

“Bucky, you’re amazing” You told him when you finally pulled away being out of breath. He touched his forehead to yours, holding your waist keeping you close.

He had a dopey grin on his face, you pressed soft kisses on his bearded jaw. You loved his beard.

The connection, the pull you felt towards the man was unbelievable.

After kissing each other for quite a while, Bucky took you in his arms and you both laid down on the sofa.

“Um, I was thinking what if we go to a movie with Becca? The three of us? And after that if you want we can have some grown-up time too.” You asked while playing with his hair. Bucky’s eyes were closed as he enjoyed the soft touch. Gosh, he was absolutely gorgeous.

“I’m sure Becca would love that, and so would I.” He kissed you again. The fact that you cared about his little girl gave him immense joy.

Bucky looked at the time and gently you both got up. He held your face in his hand giving you a kiss on a forehead.

“I’ll see you soon then?” Bucky asked while you walked towards the door.

“You will, Neighbour.” You smiled and opened the door. He gave you another kiss and wish you good night, making his way back.

Bucky was about to go inside his flat when you softly called his name and he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Dream about me.” It was your turn to make the man blush, you blew him a kiss and went inside while he went in his own flat with the biggest smile on his face.

“Daddy!” Becca ran towards him and he picked her up. After paying the baby sitter, the two went to Becca’s room and Alpine followed.

“Time to sleep Becs. Sweet Dreams, love.” Bucky gave her a kiss on her tiny forehead while that big smile was still stuck on his face. Alpine went up to Bucky’s lap and he rubbed her head softly.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“You Happy!” Becca commented on seeing her father’s smile.

“That’s true, I am happy, Becca.” Becca giggled knowing her father’s happy, and Alpine purred.

Soon Becca fell asleep and Bucky got back to his bedroom. Alpine took a spot on the bed and Bucky stared at the ceiling. Thinking about you.

You did make him happy, so happy. That night, he met you again in his dreams.

[mech4nicalbr1de]

Rating: +18

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Pairing: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter

Tags: Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Murder Husbands, Bl*w Jobs, Hannibal Lecter's Very Active Cowper's Glands, Bruises, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Will loves Hannibal more than anything and treats Hannibal as his religion, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Sub Hannibal Lecter, or traces of it, Pet Names, Will calls Hannibal baby, and he loves it, Hannibal speaks Italian, Fluff, they are so in love it's diabetes-inducing, i love them so much your honour, Coming Untouched, Coming In Pants

Summary: Will blowing Hannibal in their living room post-fall. That's it.

Word count: 2k ish

AO3 link here

Notes: i have not posted fanfiction in forever. i hope someone out there enjoys this was-to-be-drabble that got out of control <3

Text under cut. Reblogs are appreciated <3

To Will, this was as close to Heaven as he would get, as he thought was possible — kneeled between Hannibal’s legs in front of their couch, hands squeezing his strong thighs with the intent of painting his skin with varying shades of purple, and his mouth full of his fiancée’s cock. It was wonderful, truly. The delicious stretch his throat made as he bobbed his head up and down around his monster’s length, his own saliva sliding down his chin, along with copious amounts of precum — so much of it, always, every time. It never ceased to amaze Will just how messy it could get with Hannibal, and his cock that never stopped leaking. Will was always more than eager to clean it all up, however; to take him into his mouth and swallow until there’s nothing left, or to ride him until he’s dripping, and even letting — often enough asking — the other man to paint his skin with his cum. It was never enough.

And how could Will ever get enough?

How could he get enough of anything Hannibal-pertinent? Of how his fiancée’s skin glistened with sweat, glowing with a hint of something akin to gold, an illusion crafted by the orange hue of the lit fireplace behind them; of the way his chest heaved as he sighed and moaned and even cursed under his breath when Will sucked the tip between his lips, pulling away ever so slightly to run his tongue over the slit —the act of getting the oh so sophisticated Doctor Lecter to lose his composure to the point of cursing always brought the younger man great satisfaction—; of the expression of pure bliss on Hannibal’s divinely sculpted features, and how the beautiful honey of his eyes was obscured nearly completely by black from how dilated his pupils were. The darkness was present, the monster within the man staring back at Will, but it was pliant, willingly submitting to his ministrations, aching for what Will decided to give, and the person-suit was nowhere to be seen.

The moan that escaped his throat sent vibrations all over his fiancée’s cock, who gasped and tightened the hold of his fingers on Will’s hair. Not to control and dictate the rhythm, but for stability, to have a level of grounding as Will accelerated his movements gradually. He pulled away completely, chuckling at the choked-out protest Hannibal gave, and ran his tongue up and down along the length of the older man’s leaking cock, gathering every drop, even as more came trailing down. Bless that man and his unusually active cowper’s glands. It was enough that often, they could forego lube altogether, able to use Hannibal’s slick precum as a substitute. It was messy and it felt so good.

Will was in charge, and he was aware it was an act of love. Pure, unbridled love, powerful enough to devastate Troy and all the gods that may make foible attempts at stopping the inevitable.

This was true power.

‘Will-,’ Hannibal whined, the lovely sound blending into a moan when Will focused his tongue on the man’s frenulum.

Gazing up into his monster’s face, Will smirked in a clear display of enjoyment at being the reason Lucifer himself was being reduced into a whimpering, supplicating mess. And just because he could and would get away with it without any long-lasting consequences, he almost halted his movements, taking to lap his tongue over the thick head of his fiancée’s cock in kitten licks.

‘Yes, love?’

Innocence was impersonated in his tone, but the malice in the striking blue of his eyes denounced his true intentions.

‘Please.’

‘Please what, baby? Use your words. You’re all about that anyways, aren’t you?’

Will cocked his head at Hannibal playfully. 

“Wicked boy.” The doctor sighed languidly. “You might be enjoying yourself more than I am.”

He directed a pointed glance at the wet stain on Will’s dress pants, the smooth fabric tight around his crotch. 

Will hummed, taking the leaking head between his lips once again, sucking lightly. He revelled in the hiss that blended into a whine that left Hannibal’s throat.

“Yeah. I enjoy sitting here and make an absolute mess out of my fiancée. beg Watch America’s most prolific serial killer submitting to me is something I’ll never get sick of.’ Will grinned, running his tongue along Hannibal’s shaft. ‘And you look so pretty when you beg, darlin.’

It was intentional. The use of the term fiancée, the southern twang at the pet name darling, it was all meticulously crafted to get Hannibal melting further into Will’s ministrations, and the way he moaned at those magic words brought Will a sense of victory. It was a trick the younger man often pulled, the usage of terms of endearment. It was both adorable and amusing how easy it was to get Hannibal to behave exactly like Will wanted by doting on him.

Will took his fiancée’s hard member between his lips again, hollowing out his cheeks, resuming the previous suction movements.

‘Mi demolisci e ricostruisci con ogni singolo tocco, sei il mio tutto. Mio splendido ragazzo. Ti amo tanto.’

Italian flowed from Hannibal’s lips graciously, his pronunciation ever so flawless, even with his shortness of breath and the soft sounds of pleasure escaping his throat with every word spoken. He could understand most of it, a feat he had none other than his partner to thank for, who had been teaching him the language. The surge of affection and love coursing through his chest held an intensity enough to rival the power of a thousand suns, and for a brief moment, he thought he might explode. Holding Hannibal’s adoring gaze as he fell apart under his touch solely bolstered his imminent combustion.

And oh, those were beautiful words. Words he never even dared himself to dream of for the years that lasted their cat and mouse game. You demolish me and rebuild me with every single touch, you are my everything. My gorgeous boy. I love you so. If death was to strike him in that very moment, Will Graham (soon to be Will Lecter) would go a happy man.

If I die, you die too, he had told the doctor once, two or so months after they fell into the frigid Atlantic. Back then, they were cooped up in a cosy little bungalow in a quiet island in the Caribbean, allowing their bodies to heal from their injuries sustained in the fight against the Dragon and their subsequent fall. They sat together, side by side on a couch outside, watching the steady crashing of the waves, breathing in the sea. That was a moment of realisation for Will. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a confession, it was a statement, plain and simple. A statement of the truth. 

He had never loved anybody or anything before the way he loved Hannibal Lecter. The mere concept of being capable of nursing the raw, unbridled love and devotion he felt for the man was unattainable to Will before they met. And now, Will could not bear to live without it, to live without his other half. He had tried for three years, miserably. Every night, he would lay beside his former wife and try to stop his mind from drifting to the man waiting for him in a cell, with a muzzle over his mouth, but he couldn’t. On the days he did fall asleep, his dreams were filled with Hannibal; at times, a tall, horned monster with claw-like fingers, wrapping around his throat and reminding him where he was, and at other times, he would leave forever, and Will was unable to stop him, unable to scream his name.

Safe to say, for those three years, he did not do much sleeping.

He was foolish to believe he could ever run away from a man like Hannibal Lecter. That he could replace him with someone so mundane. No one could ever compare to Hannibal, not even God himself. Hannibal was above that. Above God, above the Heavens, above any and all. He ignited Will’s body, mind and spirit with a mere grazing touch, or a lingering gaze. The monster that beat inside Will’s chest trashed in want to be with Hannibal’s own, unsatisfied with every moment they were not pressed together in some shape of form, even if by a light brush of hands, or lips upon a forehead. Mates. That’s what they were. One and the same, perfectly made for each other in all their destructive beauty, never one without the other. 

That is true, dear Will, Hannibal had answered, warm pools of amber eyes boring into Will’s very soul. And if I die, you die too.

We won’t survive separation again.

So it was, so it is, and so it will be. Being separated from Hannibal would be to have his very soul ripped out from his body, and he knew his fiancée shared the sentiment. They would murder any and all standing in their way back to each other, or die trying. And a death suffered by hands other than each other's was heresy. It would not happen.

‘Please, my darling boy,’ Hannibal pleaded, fingers digging into Will’s mess of brown curls. ‘Please, please. Undo me, my heart, my love, mia vita-.’ 

He stuttered in his words, moaning languidly and hoarse. 

This was going to be the end of Will. Hannibal, with that sultry voice of his dripping with pleasure, with sweat glistening on his tan skin, with his strong, broad chest heaving with each gasp and ecstatic sound, with strands of golden and silver falling messily on his forehead, with his beautiful, noble facial features contorted in bliss, and hazel eyes boring into Will’s very soul, asking for permission to cum. It was too much. 

The younger man pulled away briefly from his fiancée’s cock with a lewd pop.

‘Cum for me, baby, and keep your eyes on me. Need to watch you,’ he conceded, at last, the use of the pet name Hannibal claimed to hate but melted every time it was spoken being intentional in its purpose of getting the other man to give himself in to Will.

With that, his mouth was back at Hannibal’s hard, leaking member, resuming the previous suction movements, humming and moaning. The fingers in his hair twisted hard as the doctor came with a cry for Will spilling from his lips. Warm liquid filled Will’s mouth and throat in waves, and when Hannibal held his head down and thrust into his lips, he moaned. 

Euphoria hit him right then and there, unexpectedly so. His eyes shut as it washed over him, lips still wrapped around his fiancée’s cock. The orgasm held enough intensity to send tremors coursing through his body, to whiten his vision, and for a moment, he saw Heaven; it had Hannibal’s honey-eyes, his blonde, soft hair with grey skins, and the protruding apples of his cheeks. Or perhaps it was Hell that he saw, because his beloved had black feathered wings and blood on his divinely sculpted place.

Hell was a much better place to be, anyhow. Hell was freeing. Hell was home. 

When Will opened his eyes again, he was met with his Devil staring at him, a soft, fond smile on his lovely pouty lips. There was a finger stroking his cheek gently. 

‘Hello, Will,’ Hannibal greeted, voice warm and loving.

He pulled off the older man’s cock with another pop, earning himself a hiss. Will allowed himself to be pulled upwards, onto his fiancée’s waiting lap. When Hannibal brought him in for a slow, sensual kiss, he yielded automatically. He had made a mess of himself inside the expensive grey pants, but he did not care. All he cared about was Hannibal; his touch, his scent, his tongue. Will guided his hands to rest at the older man’s shoulders, gripping with just enough intentional force to bruise. 

Marks were part of their demonstrations of love and worship, after all.

Begrudgingly, they broke apart, simply because they needed to breathe. Will thought it was absurd that they could not live off each other and nothing else. Nothing else was necessary. Sometimes he wondered what they could do if they were not bound by these suits of flesh—that was a very Hannibal thought, he realised. It made him smile.

‘What?’ asked his Il Mostro with a smile.

‘Just thinking about how sometimes I think like you. Sometimes I’ll have these very specific thoughts that are as well-articulated as your speech, and I wonder if you’ve not just found a way to whisper them inside my brain.’

Hannibal chuckled. He lifted a hand to brush chestnut curls away from Will’s forehead, letting his thumb stroke the scar there.

‘I can say the same myself. Often I hear your voice inside my head, even displaying some of your signature bluntness, speaking words which are so unlike me, and yet I would never usher it away. You did say we are conjoined once, darling. I believe that now more than ever. We are one.’ 

The blond man brought him down for another kiss. Will’s chest grew warm with his words, searing him from the inside out. Loving Hannibal Lecter was beautiful destruction.

‘I love you. You know that, don’t you? Love you more than anything,’ Will breathed. He kissed his fiancée’s forehead, nose, cheeks, then his lips.

‘As do I, mylimasis. Forevermore. In this life and in what may follow.’

[anthrofreshtodeath]

ohh man these prompts are perfect and so rizzles coded already lmao but i would like to request lap sitting please ☺️

Wow this is so late - and I have one more! But lap sitting it is for this evening.

—-

Jane pushes through the crowd of Italian bodies on her way to her aunt Anna Maria’s kitchen because her glass is empty. Normally, it’d be a bottle of beer, and normally, she wouldn’t be so jittery, so distracted as she smiles and nods at her cousins, but it’s Christmas - so she’s sipping her aunt’s signature spiked egg nog. The jitteriness, however, the nervousness, has more to do with the fact that Maura’s here, too.

And you know, things are good. Ish.

They just got done fighting over Paddy Doyle like a week ago. They’ve seen each other outside of work twice in that time. Jane hates it, honestly, the here-and-there kind of love she’s been forced to give her best friend lately. And in the deepest recesses of her heart, Jane will admit that she’s probably more than half to blame for that awkwardness. Maura may have started the yelling, but boy, does Jane know how to escalate.

It took a near-death experience to bring them back together.

And isn’t that just like Jane? But the half-hearted coffee runs and mild attempts at conversation aren’t - not loving hard is, well, hard. It is better than fighting, almost, Jane thinks as she slides between cousin Danny and the new girl he’s seeing. Maura is being… sweet. Bashful and timid, and sweet. But, well, back at square one. Almost. Square one would be Jane chewing out the new medical examiner in the cafe line, but Maura is here at her aunt Anna Maria’s house. For Christmas. Swallowed up by the throngs of Sicilians and Neapolitans as she smiles politely and sips on red wine just to listen to the deluge of Rizzoli and Mazzone stories Aunt Anna Maria regales her with. That’s something.

So, once Jane fills up on some more super sugary liquid courage, She heads over to the barstools that her mother’s sister and her best friend occupy, and takes the one next to Maura. “Know where all the bodies are buried now?” Jane snarks. It feels homey and she smiles.

Maura rubs her lips together and blushes. “You didn’t tell me your aunt also married into the Rizzoli family,” she says, having just heard of Anna Maria’s ex-husband, Frank’s cousin Ray.

“And I divorced right out, honey,” Anna Maria tells her, face soft and lips pursed, mischievous like Angela. “They make it easy to do.”

Maura only sips mulled wine and avoids Jane’s eyes at all costs. Jane dips her head and turns her glass on the subway tile counter. “We’re not all so bad, aunt Anna,” she says, this time with a smile so small it’s more noticeable in the change of her voice than the tightening of her face.

Does Maura read her contrition? Her guilt? Because Maura touches Jane’s wrist, patting it with an open palm.

“Oh I know,” Anna Maria gets up and rubs Jane’s shoulders until she can embrace her from behind. Maura snatches her hand away as soon as she thinks Anna Maria can see it. Jane sighs, and her aunt squeezes her tightly. “It’s the men, baby. I was talkin’ about the men. Who could leave you?”

“You’d be surprised!” Jane yelps, secretly pleased to be swallowed up in the embrace, to be smashed into a body that’s loved on hers as long as she’s been alive. “You’d be surprised.”

“Nonsense,” says Anna Maria just before she lets go. She uses a Bluetooth remote to turn up the Dean Martin holiday tune in the background. “Now get your ass in gear because it’s time to open presents and you know seats are limited.”

The rest of the family take the music as a cue and migrate the way her aunt is headed. Jane looks at Maura, who looks even more unsure than before.

Jane uses that and the emptiness of the kitchen as an excuse to return Maura’s affection. She swipes an open palm between Maura’s shoulder blades, the cashmere sweater creating a pleasant swish as she goes back and forth. “You ready to go out there? It’s gonna be total chaos, but a little birdie may have told me you’ve got somethin’ under the tree. Maybe a couple somethings.”

Maura’s face dances - she grins, the water in her eyes moves as a trick of the light. The green shines and Jane wants somehow to swallow it. “I do?”

“Guess you’ll have to come and see,” Jane calls from behind her shoulder. She’s left her mostly full egg nog on the counter and opened the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off, tipping the bottle in Maura’s direction. “C’mon, doctor.”

When Maura answers, her voice is wet. Jane gets it. Her family is a lot. Jane is a lot. And crying just sort of comes with the Rizzoli territory. “I’ll be in in a bit,” Maura says. Her hands go to her lap and she clasps them together. Jane looks down at them because she always does. It’s like a homing beacon when Maura does it. “I just need…”

“A moment, I got you,” says Jane. “Well, you’ve got time, because the kids always go first. But I’ll be waitin’. Come find me.”

“I will,” Maura promises.

It’s the most freely they’ve spoken to each other in weeks.

—-

A whole ten minutes later, Maura shuffles out of the kitchen and into the filled living room. Jane notices only because cousin Danny, on the floor with the children, says pretty loudly, “hey Maura, you made it!”

And when Jane turns, she sees the realization in Maura’s dropped open lips - slight but obvious to her. And in her gaze, which scans the entire room to see that the seats are all taken - both furniture and floor. And in the way she twists the ring on her right hand, because she would be the only one standing.

Jane nods her head so that Maura will come close, intent on giving up her chair. But Danny cuts in again. “Sit with Janie! She’s too skinny for that damn chair anyway.”

Jane gulps. The armchair is big. She’s tall but it eats up her frame. She’d snatched it when she could just so she’d have a place to watch the cousins’ kids rip open wrapping paper, not because it was the most prudent for her size. She’s about to stand up anyway, but, well, Maura shrugs.

Her cute shoulders do this cute upward tilt and Jane can’t help but shrug back. No one else has noticed them. Not even cousin Danny is looking anymore, because his nephew Rudy just got a giant Transformers play set, to the excitement of the rest of the people in the room.

While the Rizzolis and Mazzones whoop and holler, Maura stands in front of Jane.

They lock eyes. Maura brings her hands up to the collar of her oversized captain’s sweater and runs her teeth over her lower lip. Jane rubs one hand down the length of the jeans on her thigh and moves the other to her side, the beer still in it. Maura’s sweater is cream, and hers is navy, but otherwise they’re kind of matching.

Jane takes it as a sign and nods.

Maura visibly softens; her shoulders round and all rigidity leaves her body. She doesn’t even contemplate making Jane move over so that they both uncomfortably share the cushion, but instead she crawls into Jane’s lap and uses the armrest as support for her back.

No more distance, cordiality. Jane wants to cry. Instead, she just leans forward until her head knocks against Maura’s chest, and the softness there supports her. She sighs, closes her eyes, and Maura snakes an arm behind Jane’s back to hold her head close. “Hi,” Maura whispers into the top of Jane’s head, into the crown of her hair.

“Hngh,” groans Jane in reply, gulping in breaths of air tinged with Maura’s perfume. Formalities can fly out the window. Formalities can go fuck themselves. She’s waited days, weeks for this. For Maura, as Jane knew her before Paddy got shot.

Jane knows that’s not quite right, that this is still the Maura of after, but it’s ok because Maura loves her again. In the right way. The good way. In a way Jane refuses to fuck up again. And if they blur the lines of friendship, if they blow them up, so what?

“You’re missing the overstimulating robot toys,” Maura says against Jane’s hair. She chuckles when Jane shakes her head like an obstinate child. “They very much seem like something you’d like.”

“I got everything I need, right here,” Jane asserts. She thanks the universe that Maura is content to stay and hold her, to do all the watching for the both of them

[i-fondued]

Ghost | Sinners in Secret | Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two - The Examination Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags! A/N: AHAHA I MANAGED TO FINISH IT! Next chapter will be the long awaited Prime Mover ritual and then after that will be the ritual threesome binding 👀

As always, this chapter is has been reviewed by my beta, @lurancyvenom whom I love! However, as always I snuck this out only half edited because I'm a terror and you should all know how terrible I am!

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

The first thing I remembered was the sound of hushed whispers, the crackling of the fireplace, and a slight purring. I was aching all over, barely able to steady my breathing let alone move, so for the first few moments I came back into my mind and my body, I just listened to the sounds of life around me. 

I could hear Imperator and Papa Nihil speaking softly somewhere off to the lower right; Papa Nihil’s oxygen hissing off and on. To my far lower left was what sounded like Secondo and Primo, speaking softly in Italian and playing something that sounded like it might be chess. Without even looking I knew it was Swiss at my feet, I knew the feeling of his contented purrs rumbling against my legs better than anything else. I could feel someone was holding each of my hands, and my heart constricted with affection as I knew exactly who was holding which hand. 

Copia was on my right, his mustache slightly tickling the palm of my hand as he mumbled something into it. Terzo was on my left, the unmistakable feeling of his silk clad thumb brushing back and forth over my knuckles. I couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, but I had a gut feeling they were praying for me.

Slowly, my bleary eyes opened up and I fought the urge to hiss at the low light and the headache it was already causing. My vision was hazy at first as I tried to focus on the faces of those that I loved. Neither man had noticed my open eyes yet and I couldn’t help but soak in their disheveled, handsome faces. Copia’s hair was falling in his face and he was lacking his Clergy paints, which made him look sinfully handsome. Terzo’s hair was also a mess, doing its best impression of a 90s boy band member, his Papal paints so smudged and marked by tear tracks his face looked gray more than anything else. 

I looked down at my feet and I saw Swiss curled in an almost half moon around my feet and legs. He had his face buried in my calves and I couldn’t help the small smile that slipped out. At first I thought he was wearing a long sleeve shirt, but the longer I looked at him the realization dawned on me; he wasn’t wearing a shirt…he was covered in bandages from his wrists to his neck and down his torso. My heart clenched painfully as I remember what he’d gone through with me, how close we came to losing each other. A hazy smile spread on my face as I squeezed both my companions’ hands, however I wasn’t prepared for the snowball effect that one minute action would have.

Both Copia and Terzo shot to their feet at the same time, knocking their chairs to the ground in almost synchronization. 

“Lucifero all'inferno!” Both cried simultaneously, looking between each other and my smiling face. 

“Hi boys…” I croaked, voice thick with lack of use and emotion as tears bubbled up in the corners of my eyes. 

In an instant they started towards me on the bed; tears falling from their tired eyes, cursing me for being reckless in Italian that I only half understood. However, in all the comotion they woke my ghoul. Swiss leapt onto all fours like a startled cat; hissing and growling at Terzo and Copia as they continued to shout at both me and the other family members present. As he prepared to tackle Terzo, who was starting to crawl up on the edge of the massive four poster bed, his eyes locked on mine through the silver of his mask. 

“Sun…shine?” he asked quietly, hand slowly reaching out towards me. I couldn’t help the enormous smile as I nodded at him. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” I teased 

My big, soft, sweetheart of a ghoul let out a little whimper before practically pouncing on me, burying his face in my stomach and purring so loud it felt like my teeth were chattering in my mouth. I let out a little grunt from the force of him landing on me but nothing really hurt, so much as startled me; however Copia and Terzo were instantly like two mother hens. They both leapt onto the bed, attempting to grab at Swiss who would growl and swat at their hands as they attempted to separate us.

“La schiaccerai, grande idiota!” You'll crush her, you big idiot! Copia snapped. “She needs time to recuperare, Swiss Ghoul.”

All that earned him for his efforts was a hiss from the ghoul, and Copia threw his arms up in frustration, muttering under his breath about him being unruly as Terzo decided to try his luck. He held the morning newspaper in his hand, rolled up, as he kneeled with his hands on his hips next to us. 

“Il Cardinale ha ragione, Ghoul. Se non lasci andare ti batterò con il giornale di stamattina…” The Cardinal is right, Ghoul. If you don't let go, I'll beat you with this morning's paper…

“Non pensare che non farò venire un altro ghoul e ti trascinerà nella tana dei ghoul se non sai comportarti bene, sì?” Don't think I won't make another ghoul come and drag you to the ghoul den if you don't know how to behave, yes? Copia growled, narrowing his eyes at my ghoul as he tried to hide in my arms while I tried to hold back full laughter now. 

“You don’t understand how it felt…” Swiss whined, sounding like an oversized baby. I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out. “I’ll never let her out of my sight again.”

“Might I remind you, Multi Ghoul, that she was in your sight when she was drugged?” Terzo teased, giving him a playful shove. 

“Low blow, Papa…” Swiss hissed, and I could tell he was frowning under the mask. 

“Alright, you three, enough. I’m okay, and what happened is nobody’s fault but Veritas.” I sighed, reaching out to take the paper from Terzo before he could get any ideas. “We should all have anticipated that he would try and take advantage when we least expected it.”

There was a murmur of conversation that broke out between the older Emeritus’ and I could see the flash of something like guilt on Secondo’s face. I knew I needed to speak with him, but knowing how strong willed he was I knew he wouldn’t like to be cornered in the room with family. I tucked a mental note to the side to remember to see him before the next ritual. 

Copia and Terzo scooted to sit right next to me, snuggling me between them as they each took one of my hands and placed them in their laps. Something told me this had been their default position while I was unconscious. Slowly but surely the rest of the Emeritus clan joined us on the comically huge bed. 

On the right side nearest their brother, both Primo and Secondo sat. Both seemed content to let me ramble on about what had happened and how I was feeling. Primo especially, his face had a deeply worn and haggard look as he spoke with Terzo. 

“He has been struggling a lot with everything going on, Amore. He has been remembering his own riti e cerimonie with his Prime Mover this whole week,” Copia whispered in my ear, noticing my curious and concerned face as I looked at the eldest Emeritus brother. “Almost losing you brought back a lot of bad memories and long buried emotions for Primo…”

My heart beat painfully as I leaned into Copia’s shoulder; while I had been thinking about how close we were to losing each other, I hadn’t even stopped to consider what it would have done to the rest of the family. I squeezed his hand tighter, Copia pressing a soft kiss to my forehead in response. 

On the left side, nearest Copia was Imperator and Papa Nihil. Originally they had kept to their spot at the loveseat by the fireplace but now they had moved closer to us and something on Imperator’s face made me pause when she and I locked eyes. 

“Sister…” I started but she held her hands up to pause me. She looked between the three of us and Nihil before sighing, already rubbing at her temples. 

“Papa Nihil and I have been discussing the idea of postponing your Prime Mover ritual…”

“W-What?” I sputtered, heart thundering anxiously. Did something more happen while I was out? Did I miss something about my credibility? I felt my hands grow clammy and both Copia and Terzo started to say something, but Imperator silenced them again. 

“We’ve been discussing the idea of postponing because of your attack, it’s nothing you’ve done. We spoke with the Clergy healer. They would like to visit with you before they approve for you to go through the ritual,” Imperator continued. “They would come by first thing in the morning to check on you, and ultimately they would make the final call. As it is, it's already 3am the morning of the ritual. There is much to be done if we are to continue as planned.”

“No but I…” I started to speak but again, Imperator cut me off. 

“We are just worried about you, Sister. You’ve been through something traumatic, I mean you quite literally died. Though thank Lucifer that he saw fit to send you back to us. You need rest and to gain your strength back…”

“We cannot, will not, postpone.” Even I was taken back by the tone of my voice, heart thrumming strong behind my sternum. I sat up to my full height, posture poised and strong, as I spoke up again quickly before Sister Imperator could continue. “If we postpone the ritual, anyone still loyal to Veritas would have all the ammunition to pose an opposition to the Emeritus line and my ascension. They may decide to take a bureaucratic approach or they may follow in the footsteps of their leader. I, for one, am not willing to find out if Lucifer will bring either Papa or the Cardinal back from the dead as well.”

It was silent when I finished speaking, nobody quite sure what to say. Terzo and Copia looked equal parts shocked and turned on at my tone, a deep smirk on Terzo’s face told me exactly what he was thinking and I struggled to prevent myself from blushing. Primo looked proud of me, his tired eyes and grandfatherly smile making me feel strong and more sure of myself. Secondo looked impressed that I'd had the guts to put Imperator in place. Papa Nihil looked at me like he was just seeing the leader, the Prime Mover, I would become over the years. He also was looking at me like he actually agreed with me for once, my face clear in the surprise from the eldest Emeritus family member.

“Sorella is right, Seestor,” Nihil sighed, taking a rickety breath from his oxygen mask. “As much as I too would rather she rest, get her strength up beforehand, I can’t help but admit she has a good point.”

“Papa Nihil…” Imperator sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she looked at the men around us. “We don’t want her to push herself too soon…”

“Sister, with all due respect…” I started but Terzo placed a hand gently on my shoulder, causing me to pause before going off on my planned rant. 

I looked up at him, his warm eyes and soft smile finally making me squirm slightly, with a blush on my cheeks. His mismatched eyes left mine and locked with Copia’s as the other man gave him a swift nod. Both turned to look at Imperator, eyes growing hard like hot steel after being dipped in cool water, and Terzo was the first to speak.

“I am Papa, am I not, Sorella Imperatore?” This wasn’t Terzo’s voice, warm and light. No this was his Papa voice. It was hard and sharp, barbed with needle-like talons, as his white iris seemed to flash with impatience. 

“Of course, Terzo but I-”

“Papa, Imperatore. You will address me as Papa, si?”

“I apologize, Papa,” Sister spoke sheepishly, almost a ghost of a blush on her cheeks as Terzo cocked his head to the side in an imp-like manner. “I mean no disrespect to you, Cardinal Copia, or to Sister of course. I am merely worried about the two coming rituals and long evenings ahead of her.”

“Seesor!” Nihil groaned, looking almost embarrassed for me as she spoke of what came after the binding ritual. 

“I’m sorry but it's the truth! We all know what is coming at the end of these long days, you’ll be on your honeymoon in a matter of days either way.” Sister said, frustration leaving out of her very fingertips as she waved her arms around. “She is the future of this family, Papa, and not just for the papacy. She is also responsible for continuing the Clergy line as well. Beyond that I know how deeply you both care for her, we all care very much for Sister… I do not want to see another Prime Mover end in tragedy because we couldn’t think beyond the optics.”

Nobody spoke at first as the truth of her apprehension hung in the air; Imperator couldn’t help but flicker her gaze to Primo, who looked more shocked than any of us. His face was slightly pale under his paints as he solemnly looked to his hands for a movement before gazing forlornly out the large windows onto the moonlit countryside. 

“Let the healer check me over at first light. If they think I am truly unfit for the ritual then we will postpone,” I said softly, giving Imperator a small nod.

“What if they don’t feel you are fit for it?”

“Then we’ll postpone a day, but nothing more. I do not want anyone to take advantage of the situation.”

“Of course, Sister…” Imperator sighed, clearly put out by my taking command, but as I tried and failed to stifle a yawn, Copia shifted into action. 

“I think we have had enough excitement to last us a lifetime, si? We will let you rest, Terzo and I can stay here with you along with your multi ghoul so there is no funny business. Then, come first light, we have them check you out and we know what we will do. Okie Dokie?” Copia clapped his hands together as he stood up from the side of the bed, practically shooing the Emeritus clan out the door. 

“Yes, Cardinal,” I yawned, suddenly exhausted as Terzo helped lay me back against the pillows. 

“We will be back in the morning, Sister. For now, just rest,” Secondo spoke softly, reaching to squeeze my hand before he too left. 

As the wooden door shut, it dawned on me it was the first time I’d been alone with my lovers in weeks. I smiled sleepily at them, reaching out with my arms wide open for them. Neither man needed much convincing as they both quickly worked to kick off their shoes and come to settle on either side of me. I sighed contentedly as Terzo buried his face in my neck, pressing loving and gentle kisses to my skin. Copia cupped my cheek and turned me to look at him as he rested his forehead against mine. 

“You scared us all, Topolino…” He whispered against my skin, the sound of tightness in his throat causing my chest to ache. 

“I’m sorry.” I sighed, feeling worn down and drained emotionally. “I scared myself…”

“It was not your fault, Amore. We know this, si?” Terzo whispered as he curled around me, his hand curling around my waist and holding me tightly. “Veritas is getting exactly what he deserves from the sounds of it.”

“He very much is. I can promise you that, Sorella.”

I felt someone curling up around my legs, a warm heat soothing the sore muscles in my thighs as someone rested their head. I looked down as Swiss looked up at me with worry deep in his eyes, his tail flicking back and forth agitatedly. 

“You aren’t allowed to leave me, I don’t ever want to feel like that again…” Swiss murmured, I couldn’t help the wobbled smile I gave him. 

“I don’t plan to go anywhere for a long, long time.”

…

The soft sounds of movement in the hallway outside our room woke me from a deep sleep.

I startled slightly, disoriented and feeling foggy, as I sat up and looked around for a familiar face. The bedroom was warm with a fire blazing in the fireplace and the heat of my companions surrounding me like a warm blanket. I smiled softly as my eyes drifted across Copia and Terzo’s sleeping faces. Both men stirred as I moved but we had spent all night with our limbs tangled between each other. I tried my best to slip out of the bed unnoticed, but as I was just about off the bottom of the bed, scooting on my hands and knees, a hand wrapped around my ankle. 

“Back to sleep, Amore.” Terzo’s voice was deep, grumbly, and thick with sleep. His hair was messy and falling in his heated gaze. 

“I have to pee…” I giggled as I tugged my ankle half heartedly from his warm hand. “Plus I think they are waiting outside our door.”

“Bene, vai in bagno…but then right back in bed, si?”

“Yes, Terzo.” I smiled at him as he let go of my ankle and stretched out lazily. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled as he slipped from the bed, wrapping a black silk robe around himself and heading towards the bedroom doors as I shut the bathroom door. 

After taking the time to use the bathroom, wash my face, and stare at my reflection in the mirror I finally came out to find Swiss had joined us again with not only two visitors but a spread of breakfast items on a cart. I felt my mouth instantly watering and stomach growling as I ignored the rest of the people in the room and made a beeline for the buffet. 

“Glad to see you awake, Sunshine.” Swiss teased, hip checking me playfully as I snagged the plate he was holding out for me. “Imperator and the Emeritus brothers are in the living room with Copia. The healers are here to examine you, they told me to tell you they’ve been trying to kick Papa out since he answered the door but he won’t leave you…”

“I’m not alone, I have you with me.”

“He won’t take that as an answer, though I’ve tried.” 

“Terzo, get out!” I snapped grouchily, stalking over to where he was pouting with two other Sisters of Sin. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get a move on for the ritual today.”

Terzo looked at me with an unreadable expression for a moment before sighing and tugging me into his arms. I practically hissed at him as he forced me back into the bed, placing my plate on the nightstand as he tucked me in. 

“Do not leave her side, Multi Ghoul.” was all Terzo said before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead and heading towards the bedroom doors. He paused and looked back at me, smiling softly. “I will be waiting just outside here for you, Tesoro.”

“I’ll be right out when I’m done, okay?” I felt my heart ache for the longing and worried look in his eyes as I nodded at him. “No more near death experiences. I promise.”

“Si, si. I will go.” He laughed, finally heading out of the doors as I listened for the sound of his retreating footsteps as they shuffled down the hallway. 

I turned back to the two women who had now moved to bow their heads to me before sitting on the edge of the bed. They both were dressed relatively modestly compared to the other sisters I’d seen roaming the halls here. They were wearing shin length black dresses, both with A-line skirts and scalloped lace trimmed petticoats underneath. The dresses had snug fitting sleeves that stopped right at the crux of the elbow, from there down was form fitted linen sleeves that had buttons from their wrists all the way up, allowing them to be able to unbutton them and roll them up as necessary. Over their dresses they both had a white pinafore, the white section over their chest pinned in place, and wore both the wimple and habit in the same white fabric. I was surprised to find they looked more like catholic nuns than siblings of sin; I smiled and waved awkwardly from my spot on the bed. 

“Your Grace, I hope we are not disturbing you at such an early hour.” One of the Sisters spoke, she was the older of the two and she looked to be around forty or fifty years old. “My name is Sister Cynthia, this is Sister Amelia. We’ll be the ones to do your examination.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, but you can just call me Sister…I’m not exactly used to the Prime Mover titles yet.” I blushed as I spoke, Sister Cynthia smiled kindly as she spoke to Sister Amelia in Italian. 

“I understand, Sister, whatever you are more comfortable with of course.” She said, taking the clipboard that the other Sister held out to her. “Now I just want to go through a few things before we start the physical checks, yes?”

“O-of course.”

“You can continue to eat, it will only help bring your strength back.” Sister Amelia said, her voice sounding even younger than she looked. 

“Oh, okay. T-thank you!” I stammered, suddenly anxious. Swiss, sensing my apprehension, came to sit on the other side of the bed next to me. His long legs crossed as he scooted close. 

“Now Sister, we want to make sure you are feeling up to this event in all possible ways. Physically of course but also emotionally, spiritually and mentally.”

“I understand.”

“Secondo had told me that you’d been practicing quite a bit with him over the last several weeks, are you feeling prepared for the ritual?”

“Yes, I am.”

“There are quite a bit of complicated latin and ritualistic practices with this particular ritual. Do you feel ready to perform these things? Especially in front of an audience?”

“For the most part,” I chuckled sheepishly. “I won’t lie and say the idea of the entire monastery watching me doesn’t freak me out. But it's something I’ve been working on tackling my anxiety and learning to be more comfortable in a crowd. I know it comes with the territory of being the Prime Mover.”

“You are very perceptive, Sister.” Cynthia chuckled, marking something down on her clipboard. “I have to ask, you seem so calm considering not only your kidnapping but your near death experience.”

“I…” I started to say before pausing, tilting my head to the side and pausing to try and consider what she was saying. 

I didn’t really have a response for that one. Why was I feeling so calm? I couldn’t help but think about the other times I’d had something miraculous happen to me since I joined the siblings. Between finding out I’d been handpicked by Lucifer and guided to the Abbey back home for the two men that slowly grown to mean so much in my life, undergoing a blood ritual only to meet Lucifer myself, summoning a full body ghoul of my own, and having Lucifer step in and save my life…a kidnapping seemed mundane. 

“I think after you’ve been through what I have the last six months or so…being drugged by a scorned childhood friend of your satanic cult leaders - slash - future fathers of your children seems…underwhelming in a way…”

Sister Amelia had to cover her sudden laughter with a cough as Sister Cynthia wrote down a few notes on the clipboard before raising an eyebrow at me. “Intervesting view of the situation, Sister.”

“I’m pragmatic at best, totally mental at worst.” I chuckled, putting my finished plate back on the nightstand. "I'm sure that reality will catch up with me in a few days once the adrenaline wears off."

After a few more rounds of questions, filled with times where I felt I may have not answered the questions in the way they expected or wanted, Sister Cynthia had Sister Amelia put away the clipboard. I sat up straight as she had me slip my robe off leaving me in just my normal knee length silk nightgown. 

“Your ghoul, Swiss, explained that Signor Veritas used the link between you two to hurt you without marking you, yes?” Sister Amelia asked, cautiously placing her hand on top of mine as she spoke. “He did not try anything physical with you?”

“Unless you call sinking an antique hunting knife into my sternum physical…”

“Be nice, Sunshine…” Swiss growled, though I could tell he was fighting back a smile.

“Apologies, Sister.” Sister Amelia blushed, clearly unsure of what the protocols were for asking me about any physical trauma. “What I mean to say is…did he force himself on you?”

Oh. OH.

“Oh Satan, NO.” I blushed bright red, shaking my head and chuckling awkwardly. “Good Lucifer help him had he tried.” 

“He would have ended up missing a rather important part of himself.” Swiss grumbled, giving me a wink and I gave him a playful shove as Sister Amelia seemed relieved before continuing with the exam. 

I was poked, prodded, and checked over not once but twice before she came to the scar on my chest. I hadn’t seen it yet as it was covered with a large piece of gauze and tape. Carefully and slowly, she wet the paper tape and peeled it back. I winced slightly at the pulling sensation before I peaked at the scar myself. 

“Assolutamente affascinante…” Absolutely fascinating… Sister Amelia mumbled, leaning in close to the shimmering gold scar. I could even admit that I was shocked at not only the size but the color too. 

Settled between my breasts about two inches below my clavicles was a long spindly line about four inches long. There was a slightly raised scar line, barely noticeable at a distance, but the most shocking part was that it looked like someone had painted over an old scar with gold metallic paint. It was shimmering slightly in the flickering firelight as Sister Amelia and Cynthia had me move around, mimicking what might happen with my movements during the rituals. Both women seemed surprised that it was cool to the touch and that, in a few places, the gold was following my artery lines. 

They paused and spoke back and forth in Italian, both seeming like arguing at points, before turning to me with a small smile. Sister Amelia busied herself with packing up all the supplies as Sister Cynthia sat next to me, taking my hand gently. 

“I’d love to say we could take the credit for how wonderfully you’ve healed but the credit for that has to go to His Eminence below.” She laughed before turning her eyes on mine, suddenly very serious. “I am going to give my blessing for you to be prepared for the ritual today, however I will be making the stipulation that you are to do the Prime Mover ritual and only the Prime Mover Ritual today. I know that the original plan had called for the binding ceremony tonight on the eve of Yule, however I worry you will be too worn out for any rituals by sundown.”

“Y-yes of course, Sister Cynthia.” I sputtered, slightly shocked she approved me at all after our mental health portion. 

“Yule has a better forcast for a marriage anyways.” Sister Amelia teased, winking at me. “Better predictions for childbirth.”

I blushed bright scarlet, Swiss bursting out laughing next to me as my face grew hotter and hotter. 

“Congratulations, Prime Mover.” Sister Cynthia laughed as both of the healers headed towards the bedroom doors. “Hopefully the next time we see you is for a prenatal appointment, yes?”

“I will never get used to everyone wanting to know and knowing about my sex life…” I groaned burying my face in my hands before slipping my robe back on. 

“You are the sole person responsible for carrying on the Emeritus name,” Swiss continued laughing, throwing an arm around my shoulders as we headed to the living room to share the good news. “If you don’t think those two men of yours are going to make it their sole mission to get you knocked up before they go on tour next year, you’ve got to have your head up your ass.”

“I hate you.” 

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 39

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary = Tommy decides Ana needs to learn how to use a gun, protect herself. Arthur has a hard time controlling his emotions resulting in the death of a minor. 

Warnings = Language, Grammar, Violence, Gun Warning, Death mentioned. 

Word Count = 3245

Note = To the little nonnie who asked about Tommy’s nightmares this is not the chapter I was referring to when I answered saying I would bring it up, there is another chapter I have planned for that. It is just briefly mentioned her. 

Love you all for commenting, sending questions, liking and of course reblogging you are all amazing! 

It had been four days since I told Tommy my parents had sold me off like a piece of cattle to the Italian Mafia. He took the news rather well, at least in front of me. I heard from Polly he had sent Peaky boys into the Italian quarter of town for information but so far there was nothing to report. 

Tommy not taking any chances however, he had my Peaky bodyguards return, tailing my every move. I was constantly being watched. If I went out of the house, behind me were two Peaky Blinder boys. If I stayed home, they were outside, just waiting for me leave. It was rather maddening.

I understood Tommy’s concerns, I was concerned myself but I also believed, truly, that as long as Tommy was around, nothing bad would happen to me. But that didn’t stop Tommy’s anxieties.

In fact as time went by, it only seemed get worse. He wanted me to follow him around town like a lost puppy which I refused, I wasn’t a lap dog for no man. So we both agreed that I would carry a gun with me at all times and use it if absolutely necessary. Something I already found myself regretting.

“Alright, now cock the gun, you will hear it click.” Tommy instructed in my ear from behind. Inhaling sharply, I squeezed my eyes shut releasing a loud winded breathe before following through with his words. “You need to keep your eyes open Stace. Targets move.”

“Is this really necessary Tommy?” I huffed, dropping my arms. The gun following in suit pointing now at our feet.

“And never point a loaded gun at yourself.” Tommy was quick to wrap his arms around me, taking the weapon from my hands an uncocking the trigger.

Sighing, I turned to face him, his blue eyes focused on the weapon in his hand, inspecting it for the fourth time since we started. Reaching up I plucked the half smoked cigarette from his lips tossing it towards the side, the action grabbing his attention.

With a raised eyebrow he waited patiently for my next move, silently wondering why I disregarded his cigarette without a follow through.

With a small smile I rested my hands against his chest, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Pulling away only slightly, putting on my best innocent look, hoping it would end this particular lesson early.

“You trying to distract me love?” Tommy smirked, amusement lighting up his eyes.

“Is it working?” I asked, bringing my bottom lip in between my teeth to prevent the wide grin that was threatening to expose my true motives of just wanting to go home and have my way with him.

“No” Tommy deadpanned with a shake of his head. “Now turn around.” He ordered with a nod of his head.

With an exaggerated eye roll, I turn around allowing Tommy to stand directly behind me, chest pressed against my back. Feeling his hand in mine before feeling that awful heavy metal being pressed into the palm of my hand.

“Point, aim, shoot.” Tommy whispered, his hands resting on the sides of my upper arms, guiding them up so my arms and the gun were pointed straight ahead at a tree.

Determined to end the lesson early. I cocked back the trigger, wrapping my two index fingers around the trigger before squeezing. A loud bang emitted from the gun, my body wanted to stumble back but due to Tommy’s presence I was unable to. The man was a rock when he wanted to be.

“That was it.” Tommy spoke proudly in my ear. “Again.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as the adrenaline rushed through my body. It was my first time ever firing a loaded gun and it was truly exhilarating.

Feeling confident, I cocked the gun much faster the second time, firing the weapon once again. A squeal of delight escaped my throat as I jumped on the spot with excitement.

“TOMMY” A gruff voice called, turning around I saw Arthur walking up the hill towards us, his face slightly red due to the incline of his walk.

I felt Tommy pat the side of my right arm, silently telling me to stay so he can speak to his brother alone. With a sigh I nodded my head watching the brothers speak in hushed tones so I wouldn’t overhear.

Looking down at my hand I lifted the gun closer to my face so I could inspect it closer. It amazed me how something so small could cause so much heartbreak and destruction. My mind couldn’t help but wonder to the people who created these and question what were they possibly thinking?

Without thinking myself, I squeezed the trigger once again a bullet buzzing through the air before hitting a patch of grass just left of Tommy and Arthur.

Both men, put their arms over their heads hiding away from the sound of gunfire before turning to look at me, each with shocked expression of their own. My mouth went wide as I stared at them, instinct kicking in, my hands flew behind my back to hid the gun as I waited for their retaliation.

“Aim needs a bit of work love” Arthur commented, standing to full height, brushing down his suit and cracking his neck. There was a small smile growing on his lips as he looked over at me but Tommy didn’t look happy.

“Stace, gimme the gun eh?” Tommy instructed, eyebrows still raised with how close the shot was to potentially taking him out.

******

After our impromptu gun lesson this morning, Tommy treated me to a upscale tea room lunch in town. Something I really wasn’t expecting.

Dates with Tommy rarely happened because of his line of work and I was okay with that. I didn’t go out much before him so it made no difference to me personally whether we went out or not. But recently he was really putting in the effort, truly making me feel wanted. 

“Thank you for lunch Tommy I don’t…” I begin to say feeling the tears in my eyes. I was so emotional since finding out about the baby, I couldn’t help it. Polly told me it was the hormones, that they are all out of sync at the unexpected guest in my womb.

“Stace you deserved to be treated to that seven days a week. You have nothing to thank me for eh.” Tommy grinned lacing our fingers together as we walked through the streets of Birmingham and back towards home.  

“I know but your busy…”

“Never too busy for you though eh?.” He interrupted with a shake of his head. His actions matching his words as of late.

“I love you Tommy” I grinned, stopping him in his tracks to plant an intimate yet sweet kiss on his lips. Pulling back slightly I saw a slight blush on his cheeks as he looked around to see who was watching. “Always got to be the tough guy Mr Shelby.”

“I do have a reputation to uphold Miss Adler” Tommy shook off with a sly smile, sending a wink in my direction as we started to walk once again.

I was enjoying the blissful walk with Tommy when a Peaky Blinder ran up to him, stopping us both in our tracks. I watched the younger gentleman whisper something into Tommy’s ear, his hand tightening in mine at whatever was said.

“Stace, I need you to go home. Right now.” Tommy explained, eyes blown wide with concern. “Peter, take her home, you hear me. Take her home.”

“Tommy? What is going on? Tommy?”

“I’ll talk to you later, just go with Peter yeah” He nodded bending down to look directly into my eyes, nodding only I shook my head in response.

“No Tommy.” I could tell my defiance was already working on his last nerve but I was done being pushed aside and kept in the dark. I was more involved in this than he cared to acknowledge. “You can’t keep everything to yourself anymore Tommy, this is a partnership is it not?”

“Stace…”

“What’s happened? Where do we need to be Peter?” I asked ignoring Tommy’s warning stare. Instead choosing to look over his shoulder at the taller gentleman who was biting his lip, unsure of what to do.

“Fine, fine.” Tommy spoke in a huff, blowing out a deep breathe of frustration. “Peter take her to Watery Lane, make sure Arthur’s alright. I’ll join you in a bit.”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted but it wasn’t a complete dismissal either. Biting the sides of my cheeks to stop a smile, I nodded allowing the man in front of me to take the lead, returning back towards the streets of Watery Lane.

“He is rather volatile Miss, please be wary.” Peter spoke stopping outside the black door, refusing to take another step forward.

Hearing the words he used to describe Arthur, I felt my heart stop. The last time I knew of Arthur entering a blank minded state was when he beat my late brother to a bloody pulp.  

“Oh okay, thank you” I smiled weakly at the young man.

My insides felt like they were going to explode due to the fear I was feeling. I wasn’t sure what I was about to encounter in here but I had made such a fuss about being involved I felt like I had to save face. Not only to this man in front of me but to Tommy as well.

Nodding to myself, I inhaled deeply opening the door. The entire home was in silence. I could only partially hear the rumblings and sounds coming from the betting shop next door.  

Walking into the living room, I found him. Sitting on a chair by the fire, a brown bottle of what I could only assume of whiskey on the table in front of him. He looked lost, completely out of it.

“Arthur?” I called cautiously stepping into the room but ensuring I was far enough away that I could run outside or into the betting shop for protection if I needed it.

His eyes followed me into the room but they didn’t appear to be angry, nor animalistic like I had expected. Instead they were filled with so much pain and sorrow that they actually had my heart was breaking for him. He really was a trouble man.

“Arthur, are you okay?” I asked, letting my guard down and walking further into the room, a soft smile on my face as I approached the once strong, tough looking gangster, now reduce to a crumpling mess on a chair.

“No, I’m not okay Ana. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.” He muttered, his eyes dropping down towards his lap, his entire body slumping over itself, making him look smaller than he actually was.

“We can try and fix whatever it is happened Arthur.” Approaching him slowly, before kneeling in front of him, placing a soft hand on his to show I meant no harm.

“Nothing about it can be fix Ana. It’s past fixing.” Arthur almost growled causing me to jump away with a gasp.

Recollecting my thoughts, I let out another breathe, returning my hand to his, silently telling myself I could do this. “You don’t know that Arthur, Tommy’s pretty good at fixing things.”

“Can he bring people back from the dead?” Arthur asked, his voice was so low, I almost believed I missed heard what he had said. It was only through looking in his eyes that I knew, I had heard him correctly.  

“W-who? Who’s dead Arthur?” I asked trying my hardest to appear confident and unphased but my voice came out no louder than a whisper.

“Some kid. I killed a kid Ana because I couldn’t stop.” He growled, tears filling his waterline as he sat forward.

Out of instinct I pulled away from him, sitting back fully on the heels of my feet. I was expecting him to stand up, storm around, get his body moving but no. He just sat, elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands.

“The pressure, the fucking pressure in my head. I can’t. I can’t do it anymore Ana. FUCK” He yelled out, his hands slapping off the sides of his head. A few tears escaping from his eyes, dropping onto the floor.

“Arthur, Arthur.” I spoke pushing off the heels of my feet.

Returning to a kneeling position in front of him. I grabbed both his wrists to stop him inflicting anymore pain onto himself and threw them around my shoulders. Wrapping my own arms around his back before resting my head on his shoulder allowing him to break down against my smaller body.

“It’s okay, it’s okay Arthur.” I whispered rubbing small circles on his back.

Swallowing back whatever judgements I may have had. This was a broken man in front of me, crying out for help, help that would never arrive.

I was so disappointment in our government, in our royalty for expecting these men to fight in their war, expecting them to see things no one should have to ever see, only to throw them back in society with no help and expecting them to be okay.

“Arthur.” Tommy’s voice broke us apart, looking over my shoulder at him he was standing by the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, his typical unreadable expression on his face.

“The doctor said the boy had a weak heart.” Tommy sighed his eyes flickering down to me before returning to his brother who had now settled back against the chair, looking back at his brother. “We will look after his mother, it will be fine.”

“I should have stayed on the medicine Tom. But I thought  you knew best but I can feel my mind slipping Tommy, and I can’t stop it.” Arthur explained, pointing his index finger to his temple. “In and out, in and out.”

“We’ve been home a long time now Arthur, home a long time. I thought you were alright.” Tommy rolled his tongue, turning his back to his brother and I to look out the window of the house.

“Yeah well I d-don’t think I- I am.” He shakes his head, hearing his words I sit up up placing both my hands on his forearm, but he just shrugs it off reaching to his side to pull out his gun, tossing it onto the table with a loud crash.

I sat back on the heels of my feet unsure of whether or not to get involved with the brotherly dispute. I could feel the anger already radiating from Tommy from across the room.

“Take that fucking things away from me” Arthur yelled, using his hand to gesture towards the gun he had just thrown.

The atmosphere was tense, scarily tense as Tommy turned only slightly to look at the gun. “Just fuck off then Arthur.” He spat before turning around fully the anger I sensed fully evident on his face. “I’ve had enough, I’ve fucking had enough” He yells marching towards Arthur and getting into his face.

“Tommy” I tried, pushing off my heels and using the wall to stand to my feet, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder which he easily shrugged off.

“JUST FUCK OFF EH” Tommy yelled in his brother’s face.

“TOMMY” I spoke a little more firmly, pushing against his arm this time but it made no difference, the man didn’t move.

“Suppose to treat you like some fucking kid again now eh? Keep you away from guns, fucking rope. Is that it? YOU THINK I HAVEN’T GOT ENOUGH ON?”

“I’m sorry Tom” Arthur whimpers, tears falling from his eyes as he avoided his brother’s furious stare, looking down at his lap.

“The war is done. Shut the fucking door on it. Shut the door like I did.”

“Like you did” Arthur repeated.

“Yeah” Tommy breathed, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “Like I fucking did, close the door eh.”

Biting my tongue, Tommy’s words seemed to be working if only slightly on Arthur but I wasn’t expecting him to growl. Throwing his brother back against the fireplace a scream escaped my throat as I rushed forward to help Tommy only he held a hand up to stop me.

Arthur was now yelling in his face, his hands grabbing either side of Tommy’s face as he scream incoherently at his younger brother. His face bright red from all his yelling before his head finally dropped into his chest. He was finished.

“Look at yourself” Tommy demands wrapping his hands around the back of his brothers neck, pushing it to the side so Arthur could look at himself in the mirror. “Take. A. Long. Hard. Fucking. Look. At. Yourself.” He spats each word carefully before tossing his brother aside, stepping away from the situation to collect himself.

“Tommy?” I question as he walked towards the door, opening it before slamming it shut and returning to the room. Making eye contact with me, he tilts his head behind him before lifting the gun from the table.

Moving behind him, I watched him open the bullet compartment of the gun allowing each bullet it leave it’s home, before grabbing the half bottle of whiskey, tossing it into the fire, causing a large flame to raise.

Taking my hand in his, he pulled me from the home ignoring the profanity Arthur yelled after us.

“He really shouldn’t be alone Tommy” I tell him, struggling to keep up with his quick steps, he was practically dragging me along the street behind him.

“By all means go back to him, you both seem rather cosy before I interrupted” Tommy spat throwing my hand from his roughly before turning to face me.

“I was comforting your brother Thomas, just like I do with you every night you have a nightmare.” I tell him with a straight face, somehow managing to keep my emotions under control. “I am trying here.”

“Jesus, FUCK” Tommy yelled turning his back to me, his sudden outburst of emotion in public catching me off guard. The neighbours in the street avoided eye contact as they scurried along to do their business or disappear back into their homes.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Tommy apologised, a weak yet forced smile on his lips as he reached for my head. “Let’s just go home eh?”

“How old was the boy Tommy?” I asked with a nod of my head, taking his hand in mine, allowing him to walk me home. I could feel the stress he was under by being this close to him and I hated it.

How did I make him understand that he didn’t have to help the world alone?

“Fifteen”

“Jesus” I whispered, my mind going straight to the poor mother of the boy who would have received the worst possible news earlier today. It was a pointless, unfair killing. The boy was only training for a sport he loved and to have lost his life because of it, I couldn’t… I had no words.

Grabbing onto my non existent bump, I walked quietly alongside Tommy. Promising our unborn child that no harm will ever come to them as long as I had breathe in my lungs, a promise I knew Tommy would also make without hesitation.

Taglist 

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76   @midnightmagpiemama​

[breitzbachbea]

Dolcetto doesn't even notice this time, because he's drunk and the man lifting him up is his boyfriend and he loves the two-faced bastard more than he loves air.

He hates being picked up, he hates every reminder that nature denied him the masculinity he wanted. He looks like an angel, but has a demon's temper and no one takes him seriously and he loathes it.

But Francesco, who smells of anise and oranges and as if he just fell off a cart of a 18th century highlevel spice trader back homr in his Napoli, carries him to his flat and that's okay. Francesco knows Dolcetto and he wants him to feel safe. He's drunk and it's okay to be carried.

"Franci," he slurs into his hair while Francesco closes the door behind them. Machiavelli is still with the Agnusdei siblings next door. Francesco should get him. He hates the cat, but loves Dolcetto and because Dolcetto loves the cat also more than air, he'll do as asked.

Instead, he slurs: "I love you."

Francesco kisses him on the cheek. "I love you, too." He's got an accent, still, even when he speaks Standard Italian. Dolcetto learned to love it.

"We'll have to get Machiavelli."

Francesco adjusts his grip. "It's 2 am. Cosimo and Matilde are probably sleeping and he'll also not expect you to come back before dawn. Let's leave him until morning, hm?"

"But I wanna ..." Dolcetto buries his face in his neck.

"Okay. Okay, for you I'll ask. Otherwise you have to be content just cuddling with me." He puts Dolcetto down and waits until he can stand properly. "Get a glass of water and maybe start making yourself ready for bed. I'll see if Matilde will answer the door."

"Hm," Dolcetto buzzes. "No, Franci, actually ... let them sleep. I'll get him tomorrow. It's stupid and rude now."

Francesco smiles and Dolcetto can only think I love you on repeat. "Okay. If you change your mind, tell me. Let's get us into bed."

"It's stupid that you follow my every whim," Dolcetto says as he stumbled towards his bedroom. He wants Francesco in his arms.

"You're usually quite logical, so I took the risk." Francesco is sober, because he loathes how alcohol clouds his mind. He can't be alone with himself well. Dolcetto has learned to also love the monster and tame it, because Francesco loves his monster. No need to be afraid of one's fucked up-ness if both of you are screwed. He won't run from the Francesco that has blood on his canines. A monsterhunter is a monster, too, and he'll gladly be Francesco's if it helps him.

"Also," Francesco says and pulls him close, squeezes him tightly which makes the blood rush to his face and his heart beat out of his chest. "Love just does that. Makes you utterly stupid for your lover."

Yes it does. It makes Dolcetto stupid enough to let himself be carried. But also wise enough to know it doesn't matter, so he turns around, grabs Francesco's face and kisses him on the mouth. Sucks on his tongue like it's air, because to him, it is.

[theboysfromaustin]

September 29, 2004

(Less than 24 hours before they receive a child)

Kazuo took Ian's arm as they walked the upper level of Lakeline mall, "Babe! Spencer's! Let's go look at the body jewelry." "Gonna get another booger catcher for your nose?" "That's gross. I love you. And maybe." Ian chuckled as they stepped into the store, "Haven't been in here in, uh…" "Where do you get all your band shirts?" "Concerts?" "Ah, the hard way."

Kazuo clung to his arm as they took in shirts with vulgar sayings as they made their way to the jewelry cases, Kazuo leaning in to look. Ian, meanwhile, was being distracted by the lingerie he could see from the corner of his eye, by how amazingly uncomfortable it looked.

"Hello! Is your dad helping you shop today?" Kazuo looked up, glancing at Ian who looked like he'd been punched in the gut, "That's, uh…my boyfriend." "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" "It's alright," Ian responded weakly, Kazuo squeezing his arm, "Um, this septum ring - I'd like to see it," he pointed to a gold one with a blue stone set in the center, then leaned up to Ian, speaking quietly, "I swear I'm going to buy you some lingerie one day, so prepare your tits."

Ian choked back a laugh, "I don't have any!" Kazuo flicked his chest with a grin as he was handed the piercing to look over, "I like it. What do you think?" "Blue's a good color on you. Most colors look good on you." "Mmm, flattery. I'll take it," he leaned up to kiss Ian, "We gotta get some jewelry on you." "You know what? Let's do it. But at the Piercing Pagoda, not Claire's, I'm not a prepubescent girl." "Wait, really?!"

"Let's go do it before I change my mind. This is going to require some serious hand-holding." "Alright, let's get downstairs." They took the elevator due to Ian's crippling fear of down escalators, finding the little booth in the center of the aisle. "Um, yes, I'd like to…get an ear pierced…the right one." "Alright, sir, you can come sit in this chair, the base earring will be a simple metal ball, you should leave it in for at least six weeks to let it heal." Ian nodded, already sweating, groping for Kazuo's hand, the black-haired man squeezing tightly, "Honey, if I can have needles jammed through my ears, nose, my tongue, eyebrow, lips, nipples, and, uh…you know…you can do this."

"Nnnhhh…" Ian's eyes darted back and forth. "Eyes on me. Squeeze my hand. You're my big, strong, sexy lawyer man." Ian bit his lip as he felt the alcohol swab on his ear, the woman pulling it taut. "Squeeze hard. Super hard." "Wait, wait, Kazuo, I - AAAAAAHHHHH!" Numerous people walking by stopped to stare as Ian's face drained of color, the older man slumping backwards in the chair, the woman looking nervous, "Is..is he…okay?" "Um…I think so…" Kazuo leaned over, gently patting Ian's cheek, "You're all done, baby. C'mon, time to get up."

Ian's eyes fluttered open, "Am I alive?"

"Yup. And pierced."

"Ohhh no." "Ohhh yes. Let me see," he gently turned Ian's face, "Very attractive, now I get to buy you pretty, shiny things." "I feel faint." "Alright, let me pay for this, then we're going to Buca Di Beppo. You need a heavy dose of crappy Italian food. If you faint, I'll drag you." "Okay…" Kazuo handed over his card, then gently pulled Ian to his feet, the older man slumping against him, eyes still a touch unfocused.

"You don't, uh…handle pain very well, do you?"

"No…except for the shoulder, but I think I was too hopped up on rage and adrenaline to care." "You're a gentle soul," Kazuo put his arm around his partner, "Let's walk, you'll feel better." Ian put one hand on Kazuo's shoulder, the two of them walking closely until they reached the restaurant near the mall's main entrance, the sunset visible through the doors.

"Nice evening." "Glad I can spend it with you," Kazuo took Ian's chin in his hand, the two kissing sweetly - and getting some looks - an interracial gay couple with a large age gap was still an oddity, even in an area like Austin. They parted, Kazuo grinning as they went in and got a table, sliding into the same side of a booth and ordered - apple gorgonzola salad, chicken limone and a slice of Italian cream cake to share.

"You're spoiling me today." "You need spoiling." "So do you! Kazuo, growing up…who…provided for you?" "Hm?" He looked up from his sweet tea, "Well…I wore my clothes until I grew out of them…and then I kept wearing them, and got mocked even more in school. Then I got in trouble for 'showing skin' which was VERY confusing because I was seven," Kazuo took another drink, "After that, I started stealing from thrift store donation bins…worked my way up to retail stores in middle and high school." "I'm sure I know the answer, but your dad…?"

"Did not care, as long as I didn't make him spend money or Marlboro points." "Bastard." "You're more than making up for everything that went wrong in my life." "What about your tattoos and piercings?" "I did all the tattoos except the ones on my back. Got those done cheap, along with a ton of the piercings at shady shops. Danced a fine line between health and infection many, many times."

Ian slipped one arm around Kazuo's waist, gently squeezing, "I want to keep you safe." In turn, Kazuo ran his hand up Ian's inner thigh, "You're the first person who's made me feel safe in a long, long time." "It's part of my job to make sure people feel safe." Kazuo leaned on him, "You're good through and through," he was quiet for a moment, "Ian…" "Yes, my love?" "Tell me more about my mom."

"Your mum?" "Yeah…I had a dream about her last night." Ian grinned, "Your grandad would always bring her into the firm from a young age, she'd sit in her playpen and yell at us in baby talk, and also throw toys at my head. Only me." "Awww, she liked you!" "You know, she did have a crush on me." "Huh, I guess good taste in men is genetic." "She loved art. I'd give her copy paper and a big box of crayons - I told you about the comic she did based on me. Kensuke and I would be working, and she'd bring us things she'd drawn. The break room was covered in her art until….well, until she died and Kensuke took them down."

"She used to show me a ton of old art. Inspired me to draw and work at getting better. Only part of school I ever liked was art class." "Everything was going great until your dad showed up in town. They hit it off, and she left for college in Chicago. He went with, and they got married while still in college. Kensuke and Yukiko went, as did I. Maureen and Shirley were there, too. Your mum was beautiful - and also very pregnant with you. Your grandparents got to meet you a few times - first after you were born, then you said when you were five? Also, maybe at two or three? They're lucky they got anything with Kenjiro standing in the way."

"Oh my god, I was almost an out of wedlock bastard baby."

"Ah, don't feel bad, my brother was 18 years older than me." "Heh. I guess dad just really cracked down on them being there." "Yeah, he came up with every excuse in the book, turned him away most times they went up." "The only thing he couldn't censor was her mail. She left college to be a mum. After a while, your grandparents just stopped going up to Chicago, they knew they wouldn't get in, but he kept writing, and I got to hear all about you, what a sweet child you were." "Awww," he squeezed Ian's arm. "And then…" Ian sighed, "The accident…" "We were going to Michigan…" "I'm still shocked Kenjiro actually called."

"The last time I saw my mom, she was trapped…"

"The funeral broke Kensuke. He became withdrawn…I tried to help him…he took over a month off work, and I didn't know if I would see him again, he didn't answer the phone, wouldn't come to the door. He showed up one day, but he wasn't the same. He recovered somewhat, but…He was a good man. He was always a good man."

"I would have liked to have known him, but…Everything in my life happened in a way that it set me up to meet you." Ian buried his nose deeper into Kazuo's hair, inhaling deeply, "I'm so glad I got to meet you…" "So am I, and I…I don't regret any part of my life. Because I have you. My rock, the most stable person I've had in 15 years…"

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible," Ian chuckled. "Oh, I'll try, honey." Their food arrived, and Kazuo scooted closer to Ian. "You're almost in my lap, not that I'm complaining." "Just warming up for later." "So devious. How's work going?" "Really good! Actually having fun being a bartender for a change." "You?" "Bit stressful. Easier if I had a paralegal." "Why don't you hire someone?"

"Interviews give me stomach upset." "But you do client meetings and court….yelling? Without upset?" "Yeah, it's weird." "How'd you get into the lawyering business in the first place?" "Well, when I was a young lad, I was struggling with myself. I knew I was gay, but I knew I couldn't tell anyone. I also knew that I wanted to help people, so I gave myself two choices - I could be an attorney, or you know this - I could go to the seminary and become a priest."

"Still can't imagine you a priest."

"Yeah. Would have been Father Gabriel, and…honestly, I would have been terrible as a priest. So lonely…I mean, I was horribly lonely for a long time as an attorney, but one thing really scared me off from the priesthood…" "No sex?" "Nuns." "Nuns. You're afraid of the penguins?" "I was a left-handed gay kid growing up in 40s and 50s England. They used to beat me, threaten to crucify me by my injured hand."

Kazuo paused, a bite of salad halfway to his mouth, "Hey, Ian?" "Mm?" "What the actual fuck?" "It was normal back then. Saw a kid's eye explode when a nun smacked him with the edge of a ruler." "I'll repeat…" "They sent him to the hospital and made him say he found unexploded ordinance from the blitz in the schoolyard." "Thank you, I am now pants-pissingly

terrified of nuns."

"As you should be."

"Hey, does this mean I can dress you up as a kinky priest and confess my sins to you?" "Your list of sins is longer than I am tall. At a one point typeface." "You do know me well," Kazuo leaned up to whisper in Ian's ear, "But I know you, and you like me to sin." Ian snorted into his Dr. Pepper, coming up for air, laughing. Kazuo, emboldened, grinned, "Forgive me, daddy, for I have sinned, and I've been a dirty, naughty boy."

Ian bent over his plate, wheezing with laughter, Kazuo leaning on him, giggling. Ian wiped his eyes, grinning, "How is it we've only been together a couple of months?" "I don't know, it's like I've known you my whole life. Your boyfriends who just wrote you off as some stuffy lawyer didn't realize you're actually the sweetest, and possibly dorkiest man in existence."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I embrace my dorkiness." "Look at you blush!" Kazuo gently prodded him with a bite of chicken, which Ian stole off the fork, "Man, there's a ton of dairy in this whole meal, you're going to be awful tonight." "Leave a window open. Or we can sleep in the hammock." "If we sleep outside, someone's going to ring the hazmat team," Ian speared a chunk of chicken and popped it in Kazuo's mouth.

"And yet you let me eat it."

"I'll switch to plant-based when I die. It tastes like styrofoam."

"Good food is always a draw." "I can endure you laying on me, snoring and farting if it means I can keep eating real cheeseburgers." "That's what love is, putting up with someone's disgusting habits and still loving them." "You're my disgusting little deviant. A crimelord. A horrid gremlin of a man." "You love me, you really, really love me! How unfortunate for your sense of taste."

Ian gently cuffed his shoulder, grinning, "People are watching us," he whispered. "Let 'em watch. They might learn something." "Let's give 'em something to really look at," Ian tilted Kazuo's head up for a kiss, a sweet exchange. "I like doing that." "So do I." "What should we do with the rest of our evening?" "Movie? Shaun of the Dead looks good. We can sit in the back, share popcorn…" "I like it. Let's finish up, have us a night." "And tomorrow?"

"We'll just have to see what tomorrow brings."

[alittlebitoftruthcan]

‘What do you know about Italy and the Italian people?’

I know everything about the Italian people. My first Western sannyasins were Italians; they introduced me to the West. I have thousands of sannyasins in Italy. They have a special quality to them; they are the most lively people on the earth, most earthly, most loving, most nonserious.

To me, seriousness is sickness, and nonseriousness is a religious quality.

I don’t know anything about Italy because I have never been there. But to know the people is to know their land, is to know the earth where they have been born, is to know the trees, is to know the rivers and the mountains—because they carry the taste of their atmosphere with them. Italy must be a very living, very alive, very young, youthful country.

One thing I know was that in the past Italy had one of the biggest empires in the world—the Roman empire. The Romans were the only people on the whole earth who were pagans—and I love pagans.

A pagan is a person who does not believe in hocus-pocus gods, in heaven or hell, who does not bother about what is going to happen after death, who lives here and now, squeezing the juice of every moment to its fullest. The pagan knows how to live. And one who knows how to live automatically knows how to die. His life is beautiful, his death is beautiful.

But a calamity happened… The Roman emperor ordered the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. The order was executed by his viceroy in Judea, Pontius Pilate. He was not interested at all in crucifying Jesus Christ, but the Jews were demanding it, and it had become such a big problem that he was not ready to lose the empire to save a single man. But he was not aware about the dialectics of existence, the dialectics of history. He crucified Jesus, not knowing that his own country would become the citadel of Christianity. Pontius Pilate crucified Jesus. He continued to crucify other Christians, and the ultimate result was that the whole of the Roman people started feeling guilty: ‘We are crucifying innocent people. These people may have crazy ideas, but everybody has the right to have crazy ideas. They are not harming anybody. They are talking about God; they are talking about the only begotten son of God—so let them talk…’ But because the Christians were crucified, the pendulum moved. People became more and more sympathetic to the innocent people who were being murdered, and the ultimate result was that Rome became the very citadel of Christianity.

The day Jesus Christ was crucified by the order of the Roman emperor, unknowingly he had crucified the whole of the Roman civilization. Italy became Christian out of guilt, not out of any conversion. So they are superficially Christian; they pay tribute to the pope, but basically they are pagans. The real Romans, the authentic, real human beings… I am not going to Italy to meet the Christians, I am going to discover the pagans who have been lost behind the facade of Christianity.

I am a pagan, and my sannyasins are pagan. We believe only in reality, not in fictions.

My going to Italy is significant. Losing the pagans from the world has been an immense loss. We have lost some song, some dance from human life. Some dimension has completely closed. Italy needs to be freed from Christianity; only then will it find its soul, its original face.

— Osho (Socrates Poisoned Again After 25 Centuries)

[david-box]

Liveblog (but a day late ish) of Succession season 4 ep. 1

3:38 love how Shiv didn't kiss Kendall also is very clearly lying lol. Rome is so focuking rude it's hilarious. Wtf is their new venture are they trying to make a new media outlet??? And shiv is talking to Tom

They're already on to her lmao. Glad she's semi honest. Ajjajahw. "he's not a real junkie" ahhaha. Kendall is saying "don't bail on me I don't want to put effort into this and not have you reciprocating". Shiv really is into it.

Ohhh my god Logan is visually miserable. Hows it feel old man you motherfucker. He is not dating that woman still Jesus Christ. I mean good for her probably, damn, but what the fuck. What happened to the Italian princess Greg?? He's so clean shaven... Also "friend assistant and advisor" lol. Girl when. Her face is funny as hell also I love these actors. Is it "random fuck". Greg's face lol.

Shiv don't sound bored. Kendall is into it. Tom looking out for Shiv?? You alwars awkward awkward man. Paying with one hand. You're not being fair Shiv rn but I don't blame you also low blow with the st. Paul remark. Best response Tom. She's really freaking out damn. THEYRE STILL HERE AKHAHAHHA. Rome the only chill one here hahahhaa. The investor advisors walked off in separate directions. Aaannnnd Greg's gf snitched lol. They're paranoid. They have every reason to be. Oh those are their investors.

Connor is dressed like a president and the gf is insiding. Connor how broke are you, you're always worried about money. Who was Logan's first wife? Why is the Left going after them? Are they buying Pierce? Also the audacity to call them rats... And the side piece is literally just standing there. Logan doesn't know what Tom looks like when he lies. His awkwardness helps though imagine asking your FIL for marriage AND business advice. Logan looks so annoyed Toms ass sucking but I honestly think it helps and as much as Logan is annoyed that's exactly where he wants him to be. Tom killing Logan 2023 hashtag or whatever. Who hosts a party and waits for food??? They fucking rich people.

Two parties vying for Pierce is going to make the Gojo buyout easier because the Waystair side won't bother squeezing Connor out. Unless they just try harder and he has to pay more to stay lol. Roman the most mature one here. Kendall is being stupid. Who was walking in the background also they're just sitting there huh those Saudis or whoever lolll. They do kinda have a point tho.

Tom doesn't even wait to cut Greg down a 6 inch. And she's fucking recording??? Greg is too excited for their marriage thing. Greg is delusional. I wouldn't switch gears personally but I'd be anxious telling the other guys to keep waiting if they're even still there.

Logan has the world and isn't even happy. Right in front of her "hoop de hoop". Nan's family is a matriarchal version of Logan and Shiv is correct he has no patience but Nan's gonna be busy ain't he. Nan is funny also. I love the way Shiv dresses casually ahahha good lines. Kendall might honestly be better to go but Nan's picky and pickier than what's good. Oh fuck off Kendall its about Dad. And Rome is scared of conflict and I don't blame him also it would be funny if they can do it.

Why is he going you're my pal. You're mybest pal. What the fuck does this mean. This poor man. People are exonomic units??? Bro. Is he really thinking about marriage??? Bro. Gee I wonder why

People turn against you everywhere you go. He's getting old and finally feeling it. Only person he trusts isn't even family and business only.

Ahhahahhahhaha I didn't think Roman would repeattt thatttt ahahha. She looks so hurt :-(. That means he didn't ask. You can pop it back in your mouth now lolll. Who they calling. Oh Logan? Pierce is making calls huh I bet.

Connor is so excited for the wedding and it's gonna be bad if he pushes for more money or if he pushes for less I bet. I love this man. Get a rapper and jetpacks. Dude. Bumfuts. Oh it's about the election cycle. Poor Willa. She's trying. She'll do a lot for him huh.

Greg has the worst timing and Tom low-key thinks it's funny. Greg. No. She's crunchy peanut butter. Dude. The guest bedroo?? Dude. And he's really worried ahahaha. I think he's more amused Greg is scared and is mayyybbee fucking fucking with him. He's making him tell him this is so gross hahahaha.

Is this fucking Marthas vineyard? Italian themed Waystair rocyo? Do they realize Logan can just wait on the sale so they won't be able to buy her out? The sex implications with the headache is great. I think she's going to use it as leverage. Oh butter my beanpole ahahha. Tom saving his ass and isn't even needing to lie, everyone DOES know. He's got some fucked up machinations. Greg is worse off saying something than not. He hasn't eaten. He gave him candy. And he's just holding it. Ahahhaha. Shhshhahha the thumbs up. Lmao. Poor Greg. Poor poor Greg. Think of something better. I would not be honest. He really doesn't think about things critically, like, ever.

Who's the garbder? They're showing more servants today.

Logan smiled? What the fuck?? Tom is so right but he also clearly thinks its both funny and disgusting. Greg don't push it. Greg. Dude. Ahahah. God be willing. Nan thinks smiles and warm energy is important and is complaining about spending money. Interesting. Roy might be better for that than the kids. She's ruthless. Shiv is better for this than anyone else. Oh, but it's not wrapped up. It's fine :-)) come drink with me :-)). Don't curse. Kendall. Dude. She wants to drink? Take the offer to drink... Kendall it is not robust. What happened to Maine? I'm getting a divorce ahahhahaa okay damn. Kendall if you're gonna call her on the numbers don't be shitty. That was clever Roman.

Nobody tells jokes any idea so they. I'm saying Carl, it's a big dry in here. Do you have any jokes? Frank, start, be funny, abhahahahahahahahahahaa roast me dhshshhshshshs skanshshshs absghshshshhsjsjsjsjsjsjsh he can't even do it. That's not funny. Greg is too honest. Ahahhahaa "where are your kids?" AhahhahahhahahhahahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahahahhahahahhahahahahhaahhHahaha. Not a good retort there Logan sorry. So it is the money. Logan's mood is much better when he has something to do. He's going to win. But that's cus I got spoiled.

Roman is correct. 8 is bad. Oh ton don't pussy foot. "This is dusgusting :-)" lol. call your wife. Nan likes the bidding and they can't do 8.5. Tom hiding his face. They do not have 9.5. they go to 10 they lose. 10 is a lot. They don't have 10. And he's being loud. He's outvoted. Ouch. Shiv is so happy. She's gonna cry. Tom said 12 she fucked herself.

Congratulations on saying the biggest number. Romans not sure and they left. That's when the Gojo falls through innit? Lol. Or the lack of a divorce. They still living in the same house? Cute dog. Swear it's different from last year, lol. They don't even look at the accounts anymore. Oh, they still here. Tom still kinda trying to connect, he really does love her. Who wouldn't? Where's the disgusting brothers thing and Shiv is really trying to hurt him and she's hurt from it. And he's right to fire right tf back. Is Mondale even let out at night? Shiv is really, really upset. She doesn't want to move on but now she has an excuse to force herself so this is when the deal gets fucked and now she's divorced for no reason. Shiv doesn't wanna talk because she arguably did worse. No responsibility. Tom won't fight her and a small part of her wishes he did. Tom what the fuck ahahhahaa. Dude. What the fuck. He's genuine . He isn't but he is. I think Shiv would be happy just having him be there. They're so sweet together. My little cats. They do love eachother :-(. If only they could make it work.

Is Logan watching court dv? Or his own news? He's mad the reporters ugly. Wild. They actually won. Oh, new number.