#we try to greet and order in Italian

[francesderwent]

restaurants in italy will have a cover charge “for the bread”, and if they don’t like you, they will charge you the cover and just. not give you the bread

[sheerfreesia007]

Masterpiece of a Confession

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 1,802

Content warnings: Fluff, mention of alcohol

Summary: You and Hyunjin have made plans to hang out tonight. What happens when you find him a gift that he’s been eager to get his hands on, and when you present it to him he confesses to you?

Seoltang: Sugar

There was just something so comforting to you whenever you went shopping for hobby supplies. The store was perfectly lit to be able to show you all the colors of the materials that you were looking to buy. Not to mention all the sales that would normally come along. As you walked slowly down the aisle with all the multicolored yarn and thread you smiled softly while your hands gently trailed over the ones you liked. You picked out a few for a project that you were just starting and then a few more that caught your attention.

Just as you moved further down the aisle your cellphone began to ring and you smiled when you recognized who the ringtone was for. Fishing the device out of your bag you quickly answered the phone and held it to your ear still smiling.

”Hey Jinnie.” You greet him happily and he chuckles softly on the other end.

”Hi Seoltang, where are you right now?” He greeted and asked kindly. You could hear the smile in his voice as you continued to walk down the aisle perusing the merchandise.

”At the craft store picking up some material for my new project.” You tell him as you stop to look at some hand dyed material that catches your eye.

”Do you want to come hang out later once I’m done with this photoshoot? I miss you.” He says softly into the phone as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear how sweet and soft he’s being. You smile to yourself at his tone, Hyunjin has always been like this with you. He was always able to relax and be himself whenever he was with you and you loved that about your relationship. Plus the fact that you were able to be such a comfort to him made your heart sing with joy.

”Of course I do. Do you want me to pick up some food for us and Changbin?” You ask him kindly when you turn down the paint aisle and smile softly at the reminder of your friend.

”Changbin’s going out with Jisung and Chan tonight. It’s just going to be the two of us.” Hyunjin responds and you nod your head at his words as you spot Hyunjin’s favorite brand of paint before walking over to it.

”Alright so then I’ll grab us some food, anything in particular you’d like?” You ask as you grab some of the paint colors that you know he runs out of a lot and slip them into your basket.

”I don’t know, comfort food?” He muses curiously and you nod your head knowing exactly what he means. Today had been a bit of a gloomy overcast day and it really should’ve kept you in your cozy bed but you were on a mission to get all of your errands done.

”Italian from that little mom and pop place not far from your apartment?” You ask curiously and Hyunjin gasps and hums in delight.

”Oh you read my mind.” He gushes out softly and you chuckle at him as your eyes continue down the shelves of paints when suddenly something catches your eye. “Maybe we can try some of those Aracini balls that we weren’t able to try last time.” He suggested and you hummed in agreement.

”Oooh that sounds great. I’ll make sure to get an order of those for us.” You tell him as you move down the aisle closer to the multicolored box in hopes that it was what you thought it was. Hyunjin had been going on and on about this paint set that he wanted to try but every time he tried to get it in any craft store they were always sold out, as you reached up and grabbed the box you nearly let out a squeal in delight! It was the same set that he had been talking about, and luckily for you it looked like it was the last one on the shelf. 

“Well I really called you to talk about our days but it looks like I don’t have that long of a break today.” Hyunjin sighed softly and you frowned in response to his words before beaming as you slipped the paint set into your basket.

”That’s okay Jinnie, we’ll have all of tonight to talk about our days.” You reassured him sweetly and he hummed softly in response.

”I can’t wait to see you tonight Seoltang.” He said softly. “I’ll see you later, I gotta get back now.”

”I’ll see you later Jinnie.” You respond happily and hang up the phone before quickly making your way to the registers to pay for your things. You were eager to get home so that you could wrap the gift for him and give it to him tonight when you saw him.

*-*-*-*

Your trek up to Hyunjin and Changbins’ apartment is an easy one for you as you eagerly stride up the stairs two at a time. You’ve got your tote bag that holds the wrapped gift for Hyunjin as well as a bottle of wine that you found in the family owned restaurant when you went to pick up your dinner order. It had looked and sounded like something the two of you would enjoy together while eating so you had bought it.

Just as you make it to the top step of their floor you stop for a second letting yourself catch your breath and you hear a soft sweet giggle coming from the side. Turning your head you grin at a giggling Changbin who eyes you happily.

”That eager to get to him yah?” He asks knowingly and you blush softly at his teasing which causes him to giggle more. “Don’t worry he’s just as eager for you.” He says before giving you a quick hug and then continuing on down the stairs. “I’ll sleep over at Chan’s place tonight so don’t worry if you have a sleepover.” He calls over his shoulder teasingly.

”Changbin!” You scold softly and he giggles loudly once more at you before waving at you over his shoulder.

���Was Changbin giving you a hard time?” Hyunjin asks you and you turn your head to see him standing in the doorway of his apartment looking at you worriedly. You grin at him happily and he reciprocates the grin with one of his own sweet smiles. “I’ll beat him up for you.” He offers and you laugh happily as you excitedly make your way over to him and wrap him in a tight hug.

”No, no nothing like that. Just a bit of teasing.” You explain as you bury your face in his worn cotton t-shirt. “And I’d never ask you to do that.” You scold him softly as he grins down at you while wrapping his arms tightly around you.

”The offer still stands.” He says with a shrug before guiding you into the apartment. “Wanna get changed in your pjs first and then we’ll eat on the couch while watching a drama?” He asks when he finally lets you go so that he could close and lock the door.

”Yes please.” You sigh out happily as you slip your shoes off and go to set the bag of dinner on the kitchen island and pull out the wine bottle as well. “I bought wine from the restaurant too. Sounded like something we’d enjoy.” You tell him over your shoulder as you walk away to the bathroom so that you could go get changed.

”Oooh, this is a good one. Good choice!” Hyunjin calls out and you chuckle softly as you quickly get changed into your pjs before walking back out to find that Hyunjin had already set up dinner on the coffee table and was just pulling up a recent drama that the two of you had gotten into. “C’mere Seoltang.” He calls from his spot on the couch and you grin while rushing over to tackle him in a tight hug causing him to laugh happily at your actions. The two of you stay like that for a few quiet moments before you remember the gift you had gotten him.

”Oh! Before we start. I have a gift for you.” You say with a hint of teasing and Hyunjin looks at you with wide eyes before he grins excitedly and holds his hands out.

”Gift, please!” He calls out and you laugh softly at him before shaking your head. He gasps and then dramatically throws himself on top of you groaning loudly. “I need whatever thoughtful gift you’ve gotten or I’ll perish Seoltang.” He cries out as he throws a hand up into the air and squints his eyes. “Darkness is already closing in! I Can feel death’s cold grip on me tightening.” He dramatically cries out and you laugh loudly as you shove him playfully off you before you reach for your tote bag and pull out the wrapped gift.

Hyunjin quickly sits up from his sprawled out position as he eyes the prettily wrapped gift with eager eyes. You look down at the gift in your lap and then look up at him with a teasing grin on your face. Hyunjin leans forward with wide pleading eyes and a pout on his lips trying to get you to give him his gift. You smile softly at him and lean over to press a sweet kiss to his forehead without even thinking about it, it just naturally came to you to do that.

”What’s the magic word?” You ask him softly and Hyunjin grins widely at you as his eyelids flutter with delight at your kiss.

”I love you.” He answers immediately before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep loving kiss that makes you squeak with surprise as Hyunjin smiles through the kiss. He pulls away softly and grins widely when your mouth moves to chase his making the love he holds in his body for you swell to consume him. He then pulls you back in for another kiss and whispers the confession between each kiss he gives you.

You’re giggling happily and adoringly as you try to pull away from him so that you can give him his gift before you give up and press the present into his chest before kissing him once again.

”I love you too.” You whisper against his mouth and Hyunjin practically beams at you before he pulls away and looks down at the gift in his hands. Quickly opening it his eyes widen as surprise and adoration fills him. He looks up at you with wide love filled eyes before he grabs onto your face and pulls you in for another deep loving kiss that he doesn’t let you up from for a few breathless moments.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

[twirlyleafs]

“Priorities”

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Tw: nothing I think, some angst.

~~~~

It was late afternoon by the time Carlos had wrapped up his meetings, finally parking the car outside your shared apartment. Despite his tiredness he couldn’t help the small smile on his face, excited to finally come home and looking forward to unwind together with you. His mind was filled with thoughts of food, maybe you should cook together? Or order in from that little Italian place you loved so much? He thought of what to watch on tv, knowing at the same time that it didn’t matter much to him. Hed probably fall asleep with his head in your lap within a few minutes of you sinking down in the couch together. As he unlocked the door he call out a soft hello, expecting you to pop out from somewhere like you usually did and come greet him with a kiss. When you didn’t, the silence of the apartment made him almost uneasy. Carlos called out for you again, frowning when he didn’t get an answer. Confused he pulled his phone from his pocket, thinking he might’ve missed a message from you, but the only one was your short conversation from this morning. He hadn’t heard anything since he told you he was in a meeting and when he thought about it that was kind of wierd. Normally he’d come out of a meeting to at least one text from you, and probably a cute picture of something you’d seen or something you’d cooked. You liked to keep him updated and he loved getting updates. He frowned, pressing the button to call you. The frown only deepened when he was forced to listen to the singlas until it eventually went to voicemail. Maybe you were at the gym? Or in the store, or out with friends? You usually picked up when he called though. Sighing Carlos moved further into the apartment, sinking down in the couch with a deep breath. Lazily scrolling through his phone it took him a few minutes until his eyes stopped on a story posted by one of your friends. The scene was cozy, candle-lit table and a tightly squeezed group of people posing for the picture. Right in the center he saw you, eyes crinkling with laughter as you carefully cut up the cake placed infront of you. His heart skipped a beat and as his eyes moved to read the caption it sank all the way down into his stomach.

Happy birthday to the sweetest, kindest and most beautiful soul. Love you!

Your birthday. It’s your birthday today and he’d completely forgotten it. You’d reminded him, several times the past few weeks, and every time he’d promise that he would make it the best day ever. That you and him would spend it together, all day with full focus on you and not a single thought on anything else. He’d promised himself to leave work behind, even just for one day, to really be able to make it special for you and now here he stood imagining your face when you realized he hadn’t kept any of it. Carlos fingers flew over his screen, quickly trying to call you again. When you didn’t answer, he hadn’t expected you to, he typed out a message.

C: Carino I’m so sorry

C: Im sorry, please call me? Or let me come see you?

C: I can pick you up after your dinner and we can do something? Anything you like

C: I love you, I’m sorry

You didn’t respond at first and Carlos began pacing the apartment, the stress and guilt eating him up from inside. He was just about to call one of your friends when your message finally came.

Y: Im out with friends Carlos, it’s fine.

Y: Love you too

He stared at it, a lump in his throat. He hated that you said it was fine, he knows it’s not. He knows what he has done is not fine and he knows you are not feeling fine either. He can see you, surrounded by your friends but also being reminded that he completely fucked you over today. The words its fine didn’t feel right, he could practically feel the disappointment laced beneath them.

C: Please amor, let me make it up to you.

No reply. Carlos kept his phone by his side the whole evening, waiting and constantly checking the screen hoping to find you giving him another chance but the silence dragged on. As the hours ticked by he realized you weren’t letting him off the hook that easily, not that he thought you should, but the panic inside him grew. Today should’ve been about you, about showing you he was capable of putting work aside, proving that despite everything always being about racing you were his priority. He hated that you gave him so much of your time and energy and he just- forgot. When he finally heard the sound of a key in the door he scrambled to his feet and moved out into the hallway, just in time to see you step inside. Your eyes met for the briefest moment before you turned away, expression calm but guarded.

”Hey.” He started, voice soft and overflowing with regret. You offered a quiet greeting, still not meeting his gaze, and he continued. ”Im so so sorry. I forgot, and I know that such a dickmove and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I have no excuse, I just-”

”It’s fine Carlos.” You nodded, hanging up your coat with slow and steady movements. Your tone of voice betrayed you and Carlos could heard the hurt you tried to hide. ”I know you’re busy. Its fine. I didn’t want to bother you.” The words slipping from your lips had his chest tightening.

”You’re never a bother baby.” His words came out almost as whispers, eyes pleading. ”I- I know I messed up, I should’ve been here. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He didn’t miss the way something flashed in your eyes, something hard and cold before your face softened. The sadness in your gaze when you watched him had him want to clutch his chest.

”You don’t have to promise anything Carlos.” The way you spoke was almost resigned. ”It’s fine. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’m something you have to work to fit into your schedule instead of something you actually want there.” The words stung, more than he had expected. Carlos wanted to reach for you, pull you close and tell you how important you were to him. That he’d give up everything else if you asked him to. But he didn’t, instead he just stood there looking into your eyes and realizing you didn’t want to talk to him right now. Carlos stayed still, watching you delicately make your way past him and he felt the weight of the promise that might’ve come a little too late this time.

That night, when Carlos eventually joined you in bed, he could feel the invisible wall between you. He caught himself glancing over, hoping you’d turn to him or shuffle closer like you’d usually do. He wanted nothing more than to have you curled up against his chest, but something in the air stopped him from reaching out. Instead he stared up at the ceiling, your earlier words replaying in his head. You felt like he didn’t want you, like you didn’t matter enough to him to make time for you in his schedule.

The days that followed didn’t seem to get any better. Carlos didn’t know how to approach the subject, didn’t know what to say, and you moved through the apartment like a ghost. You were always polite, always kind, but distant. When he asked if you wanted to join him for coffee or go for a run och a bike ride you’d shake your head while offering a soft smile, telling him you didn’t have time right now. When he tried to bring up the upcoming weekend, a weekend he knew was free for both you and him, and suggested that you’d plan a trip together you once again offered a sweet smile and told him you’d be up for whatever worked best for him. You stopped asking him for things, he noticed, and you never reached out first. When you kissed it was him who leaned in, when you ate together it was his suggestion. You didn’t remind him of plans, didn’t suggest movie nights, didn’t send him those funny little updates on your day when you were apart and he missed it. All of it. You didn’t even utter a word of complain when he was busy, you just let him go and never asked for even a moment of his time. Every time he noticed you step back something inside him twisted.

One evening, after Carlos had spent the day at the training center, he came home to find you sitting on the couch reading. You looked up at him when he entered, offered him a faint smile and a small hello, before turning back to your book. Usually, before all this, you’d be quick to ask him about his day, pull him down to cuddle with you and gently scratch the stress away from his scalp. But now it was as if you almost went out of your way not to talk to him. Carlos couldn’t stand it. It had only been a few days but the tension, the quiet ache of your absence was driving him mad. Taking a deep breath Carlos shuffled over, taking a seat on the coffee table infront of you. You shifted, glancing up at him, but didn’t speak.

”Can we talk?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. You hesitated, you hated that you did, before nodding slowly.

”Of course. What’s on your mind?” The way you answered, so calm and almost indifferent, made him have to swallow the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.

”It’s not about what’s on my mind, it’s about yours. I, well I can feel you pulling away and I get that it’s my fault, you know? I know it’s because of what happened but I- I don’t know how to fix it. ”

”Carlos,” you murmured, eyes trailing down to your fidgeting fingers. ”It’s fine. I told you, I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy, I know you don’t need more stress in your life.” The words hit him like a punch. A bother. He could tell you genuinely believed that, that you saw yourself like someone, something, that bothered him. After everything you’ve been through he’d somehow made you feel like an inconvenience in his life.

”Don’t say that.” His voice was strained as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. ”You’re not a bother. Never. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I know forgetting your birthday was the dickmove of the century, I really fucked up-”

”It’s not about you forgetting my birthday Carlos.” You shook your head softly, interrupting him. ”Or, well it is but not just that. It’s that sometimes, more recently, it feels like there’s no room for me in your life. Like you’re not willing to make room. I’m here all the time and you come find me when it’s convenient.” Carlos flinched, words cutting through his heart like sharp blades. You were right, he knew you were, but he hadn’t been willing to admit it earlier. He barely was now. You’d always been so kind, so understanding and supportive of his career and his demanding schedule and your support meant the world to him. He hated that he hadn’t showed you that. He hated himself for taking it for granted.

”I know I haven’t been good at- well at balancing things.” As he spoke his voice was thick with regret. ”And I know it’s been a lot recently, but carinõ I never meant to make you feel like, like you’re on the outside. I see you as a part of my life, like the biggest part. You’re what’s important.” Your gaze stayed trained on your hands, expression softening but still guarded.

”That’s nice to hear.” Murmured words had him carefully reach out to wedge his hand between yours and for the first time in days you didn’t pull away. ”I get that you have a lot on your plate and I want to support you I just, I don’t know if I can keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

”You shouldn’t. Pretend, I mean.” Silence settled slowly as Carlos tried to gather his thoughts. He held your hand tightly, thumb swiping gently across your knuckles. He knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to throw promises at her and beg her to give him another chance, but he also knew that wouldn’t cut it. Carlos understood that whatever he said now wouldn’t matter until he actually showed you, showed up for you, and he silently promised himself he would. As a single drop hit the back of his hand his eyes quickly trailed back to your face, feeling his chest clench as he watched yet another tear slowly slip down your cheek. With a deep breath he squeezed your hand, leaning closer. ”Can I please hold you?” The question felt weird on his tongue, he’d never asked for permission to touch you before, but it seemed necessary in the situation. When you offered a small nod, sniffing quietly, Carlos didn’t hesitate. In a swift maneuver he was seated next to you in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you fell against him. He released a shaky breath when he felt your arms snake around his torso and he pulled you somehow even closer, nose pressed against the top of your head.

”I missed you.” Your voice was barely audible but Carlos could feel the words seep into his skin.

”I missed you too.” He spoke against your hair. ”And I know I will have to show you for you to believe me, but I really am sorry. You deserve a lot more than I’ve given you lately and I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make time, real time, for us. You’re the most important person in my life, you’re my person, and I’m not losing you.” Carlos eyes fluttered open as you slowly pulled away, looking up at him with a mixture of sadness and hope.

”I really hope you mean it.”

”I do.” You held his gaze in silence for what felt like forever until you finally nodded.

”Okay.”

~~

The days went on after that and soon enough days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Carlos had really realized what he had been doing to you, how his neglect had chipped away at the foundation of what you had built together, and he’d been working on it. Really working on it. At first it was awkward, you both thought so. Carlos wasn’t used to scheduling his time around someone else, not in the way you needed or in the way he wanted to offer. He had to force himself to slow down, to prioritize moments with you. He learned to say no, to meeting, to interviews, to unnecessary events because he had realized what it cost him to always say yes. The reward for saying no though, was what really brought him happiness. Every time he chose you, every time he prioritized you over the demands that came with his career, he saw something in your eyes. Relief, hope, love. It hadn’t been easy though, not all of it. There were moments when he still caught you hesitating before asking for something, moment when he knew you were keeping yourself in check not to be a bother, and every time it broke his heart a little bit. One time you carefully suggested that the two of you could take a small trip, since both of you were off work for a few days, and he could tell you were bracing yourself for disappointment even as you asked the question. He knew you still kept a lot of your feelings to yourself, brushing off things that upset you, and that’s what hurt him the most. Knowing you were still healing from what he’d put you through. There were good moments too, the majority actually, that made both of you feel like you were moving in the right direction. Like when he surprised you with a packed picnic basket one morning when you thought he would be at work. Or that time he saw you smile, really smile, when you heard him turn down a late-night meeting just to stay in and watch your favorite show together. It was a slow process, earning back your trust, but he was determined to make it.

One evening you sat on the balcony together, the glow of the city and the sinking sun blending together in front of you. Carlos had you tucked closely to his side, fingers twisting a strand of your hair absentmindedly as both of you just seemed to enjoy your time together.

”You’re quiet tonight.” Your soft murmur had him gazing down at you, smiling softly when he saw your face already turned up. Carlos moved his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.

”I’m just thinking.”

”About what?” Carlos hesitated, unsure how to express what he was feeling. When you reached up to grab his hand, tilting your head in that way he always found so endearing, he spoke up again.

”About how lucky I am. That you’re still here, with me, you know? That you didn’t give up.”

Your expression softened if possible even more, fingers intertwining with his. ”I never wanted to give up Carlos, I never wanted us to end.” You assured him, brows softly knitting together. ”I just needed to know if you actually wanted me here.” Carlos chest tightened, reminders of those painful days when he didn’t know if he’d be able to fix what he caused flashing through his mind.

”I do. I did and I do. I’ll always want you, need you.” He paused to lean down and press his lips against your forehead for a moment, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he gathered his composure. “I’ll never stop trying to show you how much you belong in my life, how important you are to me. Because you are.” Carlos tensed for a second as you pulled away, holding his breath as you looked at him. When you finally moved again you slowly leaned up to kiss him, lips soft and warm against his, and Carlos felt himself relax again. As you pulled back he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes, something lighter, as if the weight you’d been carrying was slowly starting to lift.

”Thank you.” Once again your words came out soft, softer than he felt he deserved.

”For what?”

”For fighting for us. For wanting to make this work. You could’ve just given up and focused all your time on all your other stuff, but you’ve really tried.” Your words had him melt, the arm he had around your shoulders tightening slightly. ”I do really appreciate these past months Carlos, and I know it hasn’t been easy but it’s been good. Great. You’ve been great.”

”It hasn’t been easy.” He agreed slowly. ”But it has been worth it. Every time.” Carlos leaned in to press another gently kiss against your lips before continuing. ”I’ll always fight for us. For you.” He didn’t say anything else. Neither did you. You didn’t have to. You just sat there, tangled together in the quiet and felt the wave of security and gratitude wash over you. Things were going to be okay, both of you knew it. Maybe even better than okay.

[hysteria-things]

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 12 — mafia hs

After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.

Author's note: Happy Halloween everyone! I hope you are all having a great day and are enjoying all the candy and partying.

warnings: smut and cursing

---> vicious masterlist <---

The strip club was a den of dimly lit decadence, a haze of smoke and flashing neon lights. As Harry and Y/N stepped inside, they were greeted by a cacophony of pulsing music and the low murmur of conversation.

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume, a heady mix that assaulted the senses. Red velvet curtains draped along the walls, concealing private booths where patrons could indulge in more intimate encounters.

The main stage was a focal point of the club, bathed in a spotlight that illuminated the gyrating figures of scantily clad dancers. The dancers moved with practiced grace, their bodies undulating to the rhythm of the music.

Tables were scattered around the stage, occupied by men and women alike, their eyes glued to the mesmerizing performances. Waitresses in skimpy outfits weaved through the crowd, delivering trays of drinks to eager patrons.

The atmosphere was charged with an electric energy, a palpable sense of desire and anticipation. Men and women laughed and whispered, their voices blending with the sultry beats of the music.

"Mr. Styles, Lex, and Charlie! Well, well, what a surprise!" Annika's sultry voice cut through the pulsing music as she approached, clad in nothing but nipple covers and a thong that left little to the imagination. Y/N stood nearby, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as she took in the scene.

"Annika, it's good to see you," Lex greeted with a charming smile, a rare sight that caught Y/N off guard. She couldn't help but smirk at the realization that it took such a scene to earn a smile from him. Annika's laughter tinkled like a bell, but her gaze was sharp as it shifted to Harry, who stood next to Y/N.

"And who might this be?" Annika's tone held a hint of jealousy as her eyes flickered between Harry and Y/N.

Harry, ever the smooth operator, stepped forward with a smirk. "Annika, this is Y/N," he introduced, his voice low and seductive. "Annika is one of the star performers here."

Y/N offered a polite smile, trying to ignore the way Annika's gaze seemed to linger on Harry. "Nice to meet you, Annika," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Annika's eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle challenge in her gaze as she took Y/N's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of competitiveness.

“Get me a room in the back. We have business to discuss” Harry commanded Annika, “Tell Jack that we are here too and to meet us with Liam” His tone was cold and sharp. He was there for business, and he needed everyone to know it.

They were shortly escorted to a spacious back room, dimly lit with soft, ambient lighting casting a warm glow. Plush leather couches lined the walls, interspersed with small, elegant tables adorned with flickering candles. The room had an air of exclusivity, with a hint of sensuality lingering in the atmosphere.

“Bring me a whisky,” Harry ordered as he settled into one of the luxurious couches, casually shrugging off his jean jacket and tossing it aside. He leaned back comfortably, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and interest as he lit up a cigarette. Beside him, Y/N took her seat, the tight fabric of her short dress rustling as she adjusted herself.

Lex and Charlie placed their orders, and Annika, the scantily clad stripper, turned her attention to Y/N. Her voice was sharp, cold with an edge of jealousy that didn't go unnoticed.

“You?” Annika inquired, her eyes flickering over Y/N with a mix of scrutiny and disdain. Y/N, however, remained unfazed, meeting Annika’s gaze with a cool, unwavering stare.

“Gin and tonic,” Y/N replied smoothly, crossing her legs elegantly as she settled back against the plush cushions. Her demeanor was poised, confident, and unyielding. Harry couldn't help but admire the way she held herself, the subtle defiance in her posture.

As Annika turned away to retrieve their drinks, Harry glanced sidelong at Y/N, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He found himself oddly pleased by her newfound confidence, the way she refused to be belittled or intimidated by anyone, even a stripper in a back room of a strip club. It was a side of her he hadn't expected, and strangely, it intrigued him.

After the drinks had been served, Annika returned with two more friends in tow. The room seemed to pulse with the beat of the music as they waited Liam and Jack. The woman had been sent by their bosses to entertain Harry and his companions, and they wasted no time in adding to the atmosphere.

Charlie and Lex watched with a mix of amusement and surprise as the dancers moved gracefully around the room, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. It was a refreshing change from their usual routine, and they couldn't deny the allure of the moment.

Annika, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, made a beeline for Harry. With sensual movements, she practically crawled her way onto his lap, her body pressing tantalizingly close to his. Harry, ever the composed figure, watched her with a hint of amusement, his eyes twinkling with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Y/N observed the scene with a cool detachment, taking slow sips of her gin and tonic as she watched the dancers move around the room. She had no desire to join in the festivities, content to simply observe the chaos unfolding before her.

As the music grew louder and the dancers became more daring in their movements, the room seemed to blur with a heady mix of excitement and desire. Harry, caught up in the moment, allowed himself to be drawn into the seductive dance, his hands moving over Annika's body with a practiced ease.

Annika gracefully detached herself from Harry's lap and sauntered back to the small stage in the room. With a teasing smirk, she slowly peeled off her nipple covers, leaving her completely bare from the waist up. Y/N couldn't help but be entertained by the reactions of the men, who seemed to be utterly mesmerized by the sight before them.

Harry, noticing the small smile playing on Y/N's lips, leaned in closer to her, his voice low and enticing. “Jealous?” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. Y/N couldn't deny the intoxicating effect of his proximity, and she took a slow sip of her drink before responding.

“What is there to be jealous of?” she replied, her tone confident. In truth, she felt a sense of empowerment in the room, surrounded by desire and admiration. However, when it came to Annika, there was a flicker of something else entirely.

“The attention?” Y/N giggled, her laughter light and playful as she leaned in closer to Harry. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she pressed her hand against his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch.

“It's not exactly rocket science,” Y/N whispered into his ear, her voice low and teasing. She traced the shell of his ear with her lips, her breath warm against his skin. “Anyone could do it,” she added, her tone playful and inviting.

She could feel the tension between them, the electricity crackling in the air. Y/N enjoyed the thrill of the game, the playful banter that danced between them. It was a dangerous game, but one she was more than willing to play.

"Anyone? Really?" Harry asked, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he leaned back, taking a drag from his cigarette and a sip from his whiskey. Feeling the closeness between them, he reached out and gently grasped her chin, his touch firm and commanding.

"Dance for me," Harry commanded, his voice low and filled with a hint of desire.

"But there are people—" Y/N started, her protest cut off as Harry's gaze held hers.

"I don't care," Harry interrupted, his tone firm and unwavering. "Let them watch."

There was a challenge in his eyes, a dare for her to step out of her comfort zone. Y/N felt a surge of excitement at the idea, the thrill of being watched adding to the already charged atmosphere between them. Without hesitation, she rose from her seat, the fabric of her dress swaying with her movements as she made her way to the small stage.

As the music pulsed through the room, Y/N let herself get lost in the rhythm. Her body moved with a sensual grace, the movements fluid and hypnotic. She could feel Harry's eyes on her, burning with intensity, and it only spurred her on further.

Much to Harry's surprise, Y/N seemed to know her way around the pole with a grace and ease that left him stunned. She spun around it, her movements fluid and mesmerizing, before effortlessly hanging from it upside down, her hair cascading towards the floor.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she moved with a confidence and skill that seemed at odds with the innocent image she often portrayed. There was a raw sensuality to her movements, a fire that burned beneath the surface and captivated him completely.

As she twirled and spun, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat, Harry found himself entranced by her.

Lost in the moment, she danced for him, letting the music and the heat of the room wash over her. The watching eyes only fueled her desire, and she moved with a newfound confidence, a sultry smile playing on her lips.

She dropped to her knees, the fabric of her dress slipping down her shoulders as she moved. The dress had risen to her hips, revealing the curve of her thighs. Charlie and Lex, who had been watching with rapt attention, were now completely captivated by Y/N and the way she moved. Their gazes were fixed on her, drawn to the undeniable allure she exuded.

Y/N got on all fours, the sway of her hips mesmerizing as she slowly crawled towards Harry. The air in the room crackled with tension as she closed the distance between them, her eyes locked with his.

As Harry leaned back, spreading his legs slightly to invite her closer, he couldn't help but notice the way his men were looking at her. There was a hunger in their eyes that made something primal stir within him. A possessive instinct surged through him, a fierce need to protect what was his.

"Get the fuck out," Harry growled, his voice filled with a fierce possessiveness that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. But his men seemed transfixed, their eyes glued to her as if under a spell.

"I said the fuck out!" Harry roared again, his frustration mounting as they remained rooted to the spot. It was as if Y/N had cast some sort of spell over them, her body and her gaze holding them captive.

Finally, Charlie seemed to snap out of it, his eyes widening in realization. With a swift, decisive move, he grabbed Lex by the arm and practically dragged him out of the room. The other men followed suit, stumbling out in a daze, as if awakening from a dream.

As the door slammed shut behind them, Harry let out a heavy breath, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration. He turned to Y/N, his eyes dark and intense.

But as Y/N climbed onto his lap, her movements slow and deliberate, Harry pushed aside the jealousy that threatened to surface. He focused on her, on the way her body moved against his, the heat between them palpable.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry pulled her closer, the scent of her intoxicating him. His gaze met hers, a silent challenge passing between them. In that moment, there was only the two of them, lost in the throes of desire and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them.

"You...," he started, his voice rough with desire and something more primal. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

Y/N settled herself comfortably on Harry's lap, feeling the heat of his body beneath her. With a deliberate slowness, she finished sliding off her dress, leaving her clad only in her underwear. She could feel the undeniable hardness of his dick beneath the fabric of his pants as she moved her hips against him, a smirk playing on her lips.

The sensation of him beneath her only fueled her confidence, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear.

“Is this what you wanted?” she murmured, her voice low and husky with desire. "To see me like this, to feel me against you?"

She didn't wait for a response, instead letting her actions speak for her. She continued to grind against him, the friction between them sending sparks of pleasure coursing through her body. The room seemed to fade away as she lost herself in the heat of the moment, focused only on the man beneath her and the deliciously forbidden thrill of it all.

Harry's hands came up, entwining in her hair, gently pulling it back to expose her neck to him. He leaned in, his lips trailing along her skin with a hungry intensity. He kissed and nibbled on her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that made her shiver with pleasure.

Y/N couldn't help but moan softly, her head falling back as his lips worked their magic on her sensitive skin. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the desire and need in his touch palpable.

His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and dip as if trying to memorize every inch of her. Y/N arched into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure coursed through her veins.

Harry's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of her. He sucked lightly on her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat quicken beneath his lips.

Y/N's hands trembled with desire as she reached for the buttons of Harry's shirt, her fingers fumbling in her eagerness to feel his bare skin against hers. The tension crackled in the air between them, the heat of their passion almost suffocating.

With each button undone, she revealed more of his taut, muscular chest, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. Harry's skin was warm beneath her fingertips, smooth and inviting as she traced her fingers along his defined abs.

As the last button came undone, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor forgotten. Y/N's hands roamed over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as she explored every inch of him.

Harry groaned softly as her lips met the heated skin of his chest, her kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She sucked lightly on his collarbone, nipping and teasing with her teeth as she moved lower.

She leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss as she ground her hips against his, seeking friction and release. Harry responded eagerly, his hands roaming over her body, exploring and teasing every curve.

With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him as he claimed her lips hungrily. Y/N moaned into his mouth, her hands clawing at his back as she urged him closer.

Harry deftly undid the clasp of her bra, his breath hitching at the sight of her bare chest. He couldn't help but swallow hard, his desire building with each passing second. With a low groan of appreciation, he took his time kissing, touching, and suckling on each swollen nipple, savoring the way she moaned softly in response.

Her hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer, and he obliged eagerly, his own need growing by the second. The soft sounds of her pleasure only fueled his desire further, and he couldn't wait any longer.

His hand trailed down her body, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of her stomach before dipping lower to the elastic of her panties. With a swift motion, he began to pull them down, the anticipation making his pulse race.

Just as he was about to touch her, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment, the sound jolting them both back to reality.

"Boss? Liam and Jack are here," Lex's voice came from the other side of the door, a note of urgency in his tone.

Harry cursed under his breath, frustration and desire warring within him. With a growl of annoyance, he continued enjoying her, his body protesting the interruption.

“Boss?”

Harry ground his teeth in frustration at the persistent knocking. "I heard you the first time!" His voice was sharp, a clear sign of his irritation. Y/N couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, finding his vexation slightly amusing.

Y/N slowly sat up, her movements languid as she retrieved her discarded clothes from the floor. The interruption had brought an abrupt end to their heated moment, leaving her with a sense of frustration and anticipation. She began to dress, the fabric of her clothes sliding over her skin, the memory of Harry's touch still lingering.

Meanwhile, Harry watched her with a hunger in his eyes, his gaze trailing over her as she dressed. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards her, the desire that pulsed between them even in the midst of their interrupted encounter.

“I want to take you so fuckin’ bad” he murmured, his gaze intense as it met hers.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, the heat of his gaze igniting a fire within her. She couldn't deny the effect he had on her, the way he made her feel desired and wanted.

--> chapter 13

[willowsnook]

hey girlll could you do a gin and sprite one please🤭🤭

josh allen x reader

watch your fucking mouth

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

JA: It’s Wyoming-OU Hate Week, baby!

You rolled your eyes as you read the text from Josh, already typing a response.

Y/N: Wyoming has to actually be good enough for it to be a real hate week.

JA: Watch your fucking mouth! >:(

Smiling, you walked into the training facility, greeting the other athletic trainers. You’d been with the Bills for a couple of seasons now and had quickly become a player favorite, partly because you were the only trainer under 30.

You set up your table, ready for Keon Coleman to come by for his pre-practice wrap. He greeted you as you were finishing up and hopped onto the table.

"Josh was pouting this morning," he told you with a grin. "Guessing you did something?"

"Why would I be involved?" you asked innocently.

"Hmm, let’s see..." Keon pretended to think. "Maybe because he’s obsessed with you."

"He is not obsessed with me," you said, focusing on his ankle. "It’s Wyoming-OU Hate Week, that’s all."

"I didn’t even know that was a thing," he said, confused.

"It’s not," you deadpanned, making him laugh.

"Are you talking bad about me?" Josh’s voice came from behind you. He was frowning playfully.

"Never," you smirked. "Why are you here? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I just came to hear your apology," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"You’ll miss practice if you wait for that," you shot back. Keon laughed as you tapped his leg, signaling that you were done. He hopped off the table and walked off.

"I think we should bet on this weekend’s game," Josh said, raising an eyebrow.

You crossed your arms, intrigued. "Okay, I’m listening."

"If my Cowboys win, you have to come to a game with me during our bye week," Josh said confidently.

"And if my Sooners win—which they will—you have to take me to Lombardo," you countered.

Lombardo was a fancy Italian restaurant in Buffalo you’d been dying to try. While you made good money as a trainer, it wasn’t quite enough to justify splurging there.

"Deal," Josh said, holding out his hand. You shook it, sealing the bet.

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

You grinned widely as you slid into the passenger seat of Josh's car, dressed in a nice red dress with matching heels. OU had kicked the shit out of Wyoming.

"I’ve fasted all week for this," you joked, smirking at Josh, who pouted beside you. He was dressed up in a button-down shirt and slacks, clearly still a little sore about Wyoming’s loss.

The restaurant was even more stunning than you’d imagined. Your skin tingled as Josh gently placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the table.

As you browsed the menu, you stole a glance at Josh. You’d always had a small crush on him—his golden retriever energy had won you over from day one. Seeing him dressed up like this, looking every bit the gentleman, made your heart race. You felt yourself growing warm, thinking about how you had his full attention tonight.

"Should we get a bottle of wine to celebrate?" you teased. "Maybe the $300 one?"

Josh shot you a pointed look, and you laughed.

"I’m just joking. I’ll behave," you promised.

When the waiter came to take your drink orders, he turned to Josh first. Without hesitation, Josh said, "We’ll split the Château Angélus."

You froze, snapping your head up at him. The waiter left, and you were quick to protest. "Josh, that’s way too expensive!"

"You wanted it, princess," he said with a teasing smirk, making you blush.

Your cheeks were still warm from his “princess” comment, and the two of you fell into easy conversation as the night went on. The food was incredible, and the wine tasted just as luxurious as its price tag suggested.

As you finished the last bites of dessert, Josh leaned back in his chair, watching you with a soft smile.

“You know,” he started, a little more serious now. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What’s that?”

He hesitated for a second, then met your eyes, his voice gentle but sure. “I think we should call this what it is—our first date.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at him, stunned. “Our...first date?”

Josh nodded, his expression sincere. “I mean, we spend all our time together anyway, and... I’ve liked you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But sitting here with you tonight, it feels right. Feels like it’s time.”

Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through you. “I’ve liked you too,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

Josh’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. “Well, now you know. So, what do you say? Think we could make this official?”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your nerves melting away. “I’d like that.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Good. Because I don’t plan on losing any more bets to take you out again.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Guess I’ll have to think of another one then.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, your hands intertwined, feeling like everything had just fallen into place.

[37sommz]

❁ : come le viole . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: smut. ✼. wc: 3.1k.

michaela's six years in italy pay off in her professional life. one area she didn't expect them to pay off is in her romantic life. in jenson's defense, anything michaela does gets him going.

✼. warnings: 18+ mdni, smut smut smut, jenson has a michaela speaking italian kink, unprotected sex, pretty tame but sweet regardless.

✼. notes: another filler chapter lol. don't think too hard about the date, it's completely arbitrary bc this is just a filler. i promise i have more actual plot, abu dhabi 2021 is next :)

000.⠀⠀OCTOBER 16, 2021    ›    Cagliari, Italy

Michaela leaned against the balcony railing, the Sardinian sun casting a warm glow over her taut, athletic frame. She squinted at the horizon, the sea a serene canvas of blues and greens that stretched to infinity. The salty breeze whispered through her hair, a gentle reminder of the world outside the sheltered bubble of the luxurious hotel room.

Her thoughts drifted to the race that had just concluded. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as she heard the distant roar of the crowd. The Extreme E circuit was a playground for champions, a place where Jenson could still indulge in his love for speed without the relentless pressure of Formula 1. The same pressure she faced every time she strapped into her own McLaren.

The door clicked open, and she spun around, her heart racing. Jenson strutted in, a boyish grin on his face and a sheen of adrenaline glistening on his skin. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and the sight of him made her pulse quicken.

"You did well, JB," she said, using his nickname with a playful smirk.

Jenson closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Thanks, darling," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I wish you could've seen it in person. The track was insane."

Michaela smiled, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pulled her in closer. "I had a pretty good view from here," she said, gesturing to the TV behind her. "But I'll take your word for it. You looked like you were in your element."

Jenson chuckled, his gaze lingering on the oversized vintage Suzuka circuit shirt adorning her frame. "You know I can't resist a good race." His hands began to roam, gently caressing her hips, his thumbs brushing the waistband of her shorts as they dipped underneath the hem of her shirt. "But I missed you."

Michaela felt a flutter in her stomach as she met his eyes. "Missed me, or missed being in bed with me?" she teased, her voice low and eyes narrowed.

"Both, actually," Jenson confessed, his grin turning into a seductive smirk. "But right now, I'm thinking about the latter."

Michaela rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her own smile. "Have you eaten? We should order room service before you pass out from exhaustion."

"Mmm, I could go for a pasta," Jenson said, his voice a low purr as his hands continued to roam. "But I'd much rather have dessert first."

Michaela playfully slapped his hand away, laughing. "Let's at least order something to eat first. I waited for you to comeback before I ordered." She stepped back and picked up the phone, her fingers dancing over the buttons as she dialed the front desk. "Buonasera," she greeted in flawless Italian, the language rolling off her tongue like a native. "Possiamo avere il servizio in camera, per favore?"

Jenson rose from his spot on the bed, watching her with a smoldering look in his eyes. "God, you're so sexy when you speak Italian," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He stalked over to her, his breath warm against her neck as he nibbled gently on her earlobe. His hands slid around her waist again.

Michaela giggled, trying to keep her focus on the order. "Jenson, behave," she chided, though her voice lacked conviction. The feeling of his body pressed against hers was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else.

"Sì, questo è tutto. Addebitare alla camera, per favore. Grazie," she finished, hanging up the phone and turning to face him with a smirk. "Room service is on its way."

Jenson's gaze was unyielding, his eyes dark with want. "I don't care about room service," he murmured, his hands moving from her waist to cup her face. His thumbs traced her cheekbones, his eyes searching hers for any sign of protest. "Not when you're speaking Italian like that."

"I was just ordering food, Jense," she said with a playful laugh, though the heat in her voice betrayed her own growing arousal. She stepped closer, her hands sliding up his chest.

"But when you talk like that," Jenson whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "it's like you're speaking directly to my soul." His eyes searched hers, hunger plain in his gaze. "It's so intimate."

Michaela's laughter faded, replaced by a soft sigh as she leaned into his touch. "You're such a romantic," she said, her voice teasing. But she didn't move away.

Jenson leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His tongue danced with hers, a silent promise of the passion that awaited them. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as she responded with an eagerness that surprised even herself.

Michaela pulled away, breathless. "Room service will be here any minute," she murmured, though the protest was half-hearted at best.

"They can wait," Jenson said, his voice gruff with need. He scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. She gasped as he carried her to the bed, laying her down with a tenderness that betrayed his urgency.

Their kisses grew more feverish, their bodies tangling together as if trying to become one. Jenson's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and line with a hunger that seemed insatiable. His touch sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her, and she arched into him, her own hands running through the blonde hair she had grown so fond of.

Michaela's racing heart hammered against her ribcage as Jenson's hand slipped under her shirt, his calloused fingers brushing against her bare skin. She gasped into his mouth, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. He broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering as he stared down at her. "Keep speaking Italian to me," he urged, his voice thick with desire.

Michaela's breath was hot against his skin as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, her words a mix of English and Italian that only served to heighten his desire for her. He felt his own passion mirrored in her touch, her hands roaming over his chest and down to his waistband, eager to feel all of him.

With a groan, Jenson lifted himself off her, standing to remove the last of his clothes. He watched her eyes follow the trail of his muscles, the desire in them making him feel like the luckiest man alive. He joined her on the bed again, their bodies a tangle of limbs and passion. Michaela reached for him, her hand wrapping around his length. He sucked in a breath, his eyes closing as she began to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate. He felt the heat building, the tension in his body growing taut with every jerk of her wrist.

Her other hand found his chest, her nails digging in slightly as she guided him closer. He positioned himself between her legs, the tip of him teasing her entrance as an impatient hand brushed her panties to the side. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the heady mix of love and lust threatening to overwhelm them both.

Michaela looked up at him, her eyes filled with a raw, unbridled need. "Jenson," she murmured, her voice a soft plea. He took one last moment to savor the sight of her before he pushed inside her, filling her completely.

Her gasp was music to his ears, her nails digging into his back as he began to move. The rhythm was slow at first, almost tender, as if they were both trying to savor every second. But as the passion grew, so did their desperation. Their movements grew more urgent, more frenzied, each thrust and moan echoing around the room like a symphony of desire.

Jenson watched her face, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought for control. He leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, their tongues tangling together as their bodies found a rhythm that spoke of love and need. The feel of her, tight and wet around him, was intoxicating, and he could feel his climax approaching.

Michaela's nails dug into his back as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. Her breathy moans grew louder, and he knew she was ready for more. He picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent as he felt her muscles begin to clench around him.

"So pretty," she hummed as she pulled his face away from the crook of her neck. Her thumbs tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the stubble prickle against her skin. "Così, così carino." She repeated in Italian, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of his mouth on hers.

Michaela felt the warmth spread through her core as Jenson's hand slid down to cup her breast, his thumb brushing her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. The sensation was electric, and she arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.

"Talk to me, honey," she whispered seductively against his mouth, her voice thick with need. "Tell me how good it feels."

"God, it feels amazing," he managed to gasp out, his voice strained with effort. "You're so wet for me, so tight." His words were punctuated with each thrust, his voice growing hoarser with every passing moment.

Michaela's eyes fluttered closed, a soft smile playing on her lips as she absorbed his words. She felt his muscles tensing beneath her, the veins in his arms standing out as he pushed himself deeper into her. "Don't hold back," she encouraged, her own voice breathless. "Take me, I'm all yours, baby."

"Yeah?" He whispered back, blue eyes burning into hers, his thumb now tracing her bottom lip.

She leaned into his touch, taking the finger into her mouth eagerly. Her brown eyes never left his blue eyes as she sucked gently, the sight making him growl with need.

Jenson couldn't resist anymore, he leaned down and kissed her again, deep and passionate. Their bodies moved in sync, the sound of skin on skin music to their ears. His hands roamed over her, feeling the heat of her body, memorizing every inch of her. He felt her arching into him, her legs tightening around his waist, her breathing growing more erratic.

One hand reached for the top of her headboard as the other reached down to grasp at her thigh, pulling it up to hook over his hip and spreading her wide open to him. The new angle sent Michaela's eyes rolling back as he pushed deep inside her, a moan escaping her mouth as she felt herself stretch around him.

"Good girl," Jenson praised, his voice a low growl. The new angle allowed him to hit her g-spot with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She couldn't help but whimper, her nails now scratching down his sides as the tension grew. "You take me so well. All the way in just like that."

Michaela's breath came in short gasps as she felt the beginnings of an intense orgasm building inside her. "Jense," she moaned, her eyes pleading for release. He knew she was close, and he wasn't far behind. His own orgasm was approaching like a freight train.

Jenson's grip tightened on her thigh as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into hers. The headboard thumped against the wall in a steady rhythm, muffled by the thick walls. He could feel her body tightening around him, and it was all he could do to hold on.

Michaela's eyes snapped open, her pupils dilated with desire. She met Jenson's gaze, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she whispered, "Dai, amore, fottimi più forte," urging him on in Italian.

A feral growl rumbled in his throat as he complied, his hips driving into hers with a force that sent the bed rocking against the floor. The headboard thumped a wild beat that matched the pounding of their hearts, the only music in the room. The sound of their passion filled the air, a symphony of moans and gasps that grew louder with every stroke.

Michaela's eyes never left Jenson's as she felt the climax building within her, his every movement sending her closer to the edge. She could see the same need reflected in his gaze, his eyes dark with desire and determination to bring her to the brink.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, feeling the tension coil tighter within him.

Michaela's eyes rolled back, the pleasure reaching a crescendo as she felt Jenson's cock hit her in just the right spot. She knew she was close, so close she could almost taste it. "Need to come, Jenson," she begged, her voice a needy whine.

Jenson chuckled dryly, feeling her slip away deeper into the pleasure. "Say it nicely, love," he urged, his voice gruff with need. "Want to hear your pretty little mouth say it in Italian."

Michaela bit her lip, the challenge sparking something within her as she nodded. She met his eyes, her own smoldering with desire. "Per favore, lasciami venire, amore," she whispered, her voice thick with an accent that sent shivers down his spine.

Jenson's eyes flashed with pleasure, the Italian rolling off her tongue like a sweet, sweet promise. He felt the coil in his stomach tighten, his own orgasm close behind hers. "So fucking perfect, baby. You're so beautiful," he groaned, the words leaving his mouth almost involuntarily. He wanted to claim her, to show her how much she meant to him in every way possible.

"Fuck, baby, where do you want me?" he gritted out, his hips moving faster, his strokes deeper. She felt him swell inside her, the pressure building until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Anywhere, everywhere," she panted, her back arching off the bed. "Just don't stop, please." She practically begged, almost incoherent in the wave of her pleasure.

Jenson's eyes blazed with intensity, his thrusts becoming more powerful, his strokes more deliberate. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her breath hitching with every push. The sound of their bodies slapping together grew more frantic, the sweet sound of their passion heightening.

"Mouse," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "I love how wet you are for me." His hand traveled down to her clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bud as he watched her face contort with pleasure. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

Michaela's breath hitched, her eyes locked on his as she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Yes, Jense, please."

He took that as his cue, his thumb moving faster against her clit, his strokes deep and demanding. The tension built until it was almost unbearable, until she was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his back. "Now, love," he urged, feeling her body tighten around him. "Come for me."

Michaela's eyes widened as she felt the orgasm crash over her, waves of pleasure washing away every thought, every worry. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the intensity of her release. Jenson groaned, feeling her tighten around him, his own orgasm following closely behind. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he emptied himself inside her.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Jenson rolled over, taking her with him so she lay sprawled on top of him, her head on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm beneath her ear. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, the scent of their lovemaking mingling with the faint aroma of the sea breeze that filtered through the open balcony doors.

"You're going to have to teach me Italian," Jenson murmured after a moment of contented silence, his voice rumbling through his chest and into her ear. "Everything sounds better when you say it."

Michaela chuckled, her breath still coming in pants. "I'd be happy to," she said, pressing a kiss to the warm skin of his chest. Perched on his chest, she felt his heart beating beneath her, the steady rhythm matching the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

They laid there for a few moments, the only sound in the room the rustling of the hotel curtains dancing in the breeze from the open balcony. The sun painted stripes across the floor, casting a warm glow over their entwined bodies.

"I love you, Michaela," Jenson murmured, his hands stroking her back lazily as he felt her body relax into his. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

Michaela lifted her head to look at him, her eyes soft with affection. "I love you too, Jense," she said, her voice a quiet whisper. "More than I ever thought I could love someone." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips before rolling off him and standing up, stretching her toned body. The room service cart rattled in the hallway, a discreet knock at the door interrupting their intimate moment.

"I'll get it," Jenson offered as he reached for a robe, his chiseled abs glistening with a sheen of sweat. Jenson tied the robe around his waist, his movements slow and languid. "You go freshen up. I don't think I'll be able to focus on eating if I hear you speak Italian again." He winked, the mischief in his eyes unmistakable.

Michaela giggled and slipped into the bathroom, her cheeks flushed with pleasure and the aftermath of their passion. She glanced in the mirror as she tied her own robe together, her hair a wild mess around her face, and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. As she washed up, she could still feel the echoes of Jenson's touch, the way his hands had roamed her body with such confidence and hunger.

When she emerged, Jenson had set up the room service on the small dining table. The sight of steaming plates of pasta and a bottle of wine brought a smile to her face. The wide, boyish smile that adorned his features drew a chuckle out of her.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic," she teased, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

Jenson shrugged playfully. "You bring it out in me, sweetheart," he said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Michaela took her seat, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she surveyed the feast he'd arranged. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled the room, mingling with the faint scent of the ocean. They ate in contented silence, their eyes meeting frequently over their plates, the heat between them melting away into a calmer affection.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Date Night

"Hey- You listening?" My date snapped her fingers in front of me, tearing my gaze away from it. For a brief moment I couldn't remember her name, then it came to me.

"Sorry, Frances. Didn't mean to doze off like that," I said sheepishly. "So… you were saying?"

Frances reclined back, seemingly mollified. "Well, Miriam had to run around telling everyone about Henrietta's boyfriend, so Mirabelle and I teamed up to stop her from running her mouth. But could you believe it…" 

"Yep, I'm sure," I said idly, tuning her words out. Goodness, that woman ran her mouth like nobody's business. She was pretty enough to make up for it, a bombshell blonde with baby blue eyes. I had met her on a dating app. She was the bubbly, romantic sort, going so far as to call herself a 'witch', as if she had any real power. Not the brightest bulb in the box, naturally, but I had always had a thing for bimbos. That cane of hers was a deal-breaker, though. I couldn't be seen dating a cripple, after all.

"Ugh, I know right?! Like, how could she say such things about poor Glendy! It makes my blood boil just thinking about it, you know you know?! That's why I think Mitchell was so brave to stand up for her…"

Something brushed against my bare, exposed throat, and I jolted away, standing up and turning around sharply. But it was only an elderly woman in a bright pink scarf, shuffling to her seat. "So sorry for starting you, dearie," she purred, settling down. "Really, I ought to be more careful."

I nodded placatingly. "Sorry about that, ma'am," I said, nodding my head in apology. The hunger made me skittish. We were at a cosy little Italian restaurant, newly opened and barely occupied.

"Goodness, you're really anxious!" Frances tittered. "Say? Where's our food? I think I need to go call and talk to the waiters at this point." She waved her arm about, trying to catch the attention of the waiters. From the corner where we sat, I caught sight of three of them, heads bowed in some sort of conversation.

None of them looked up. The restaurant was practically empty, and I understood why. Who would want to go to a place with such poor service? They had yet to greet the old lady next to me. "I'll deal with this," I told Frances, and got up ready to give them a piece of my mind. 

Pushing my chair back, I strode purposefully over to the waiters. "Hey, we ordered a lasagna, a risotto, two white wines and a bread basket twenty minutes ago! Where the hell's our food?"

They didn't look up, and I suddenly felt a rush of rage. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I want to speak to your manager now!" The nerve of them, to ignore a paying customer. Had they even conveyed my order to the kitchen? I took one step closer until I was glaring at the back of a dark haired waiter's head. Fed up with him, I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Don't play dumb-"

He was watching me with no eyes. His face was nothing more than a smooth plateau, devoid of emotion. Yet I had the distinct feeling that he saw me, that he was staring at me, and most of all, that he was angry.

It occurred to me that I might have made a significant error. An error so significant that it might cost me my life. I took two steps away, releasing the faceless waiter from my grasp. "My bad, boys," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "I won't bother you again, eh? Take your time with the lasagna."

The other two waiters looked up, and I swear I saw a twitching of the cheeks that signalled a grin. I turned and fled, only to run right into the old lady. "Run, somethings really wrong with the waiters!" I grabbed her wrist, but something held me right there. I turned around.

The old lady grinned at me, revealing far too many rows of needle-sharp teeth. Her scarf wrapped itself about me like furry pink tentacles, constricting my chest and making my head spin. "What a nice youngster you are," she purred, grasping my arms with bloodied, tetanus-ridden claws. "Looking after an old lady like that, hmm? Why, I could just eat you up!"

Her jaws unclicked, and I gagged on the rotten stink of her breath. They expanded, and I found myself staring down the deep abyss of her oesophagus. I was going to die here, I realised dismally. I was going to die because I went on a stupid date at this miserable restaurant.

And then I wasn't. A small, manicured hand pulled me back, and I found myself wedged into the not-insignificant bosom of Frances. She bore a look of complete, utter disgust. "Let go of my date, skinwalker," she snapped. "This one's mine!"

"Frances, run! Don't try to fight that thing," I urged, trying to hurry her along. I hooked my arm around hers and picked her up, only to get a snack on the head for my troubles.

"Put me down, you idiot! Didn't you hear a word I said?" She glared at me ferociously. "I'm a witch, bitch! And I can take a skinwalker. Now get behind me, you nitwit, and stop pretending to be so macho." For once, I did as she told me to, and ducked behind a table. This was way out of my paygrade.

The skinwalker — if that was what the old lady really was — laughed at Frances. "Little witch, do you really think you can def-" Frances smacked the skinwalker with her cane, cutting off its words. It was almost comical, in a horrible way, to see her stare down a monster twice her size.

She grabbed the coat of the skinwalker and pulled it down. With her other palm, she whipped out her lipstick and sketched a strange symbol on its forehead. "Yes," she said triumphantly, as the skinwalker thrashed and screamed in her iron grip, "I totes think I can beat you."

The three waiters exchanged glances with each other, then made a run for the door. Smoothly, Frances capped her lipstick and pulled out a dagger. She threw it expertly at the dark haired waiter, who was almost at the door. The waiter went down like a stone, hitting the floor with a too-loud thump. The other two followed suit soon after.

Almost as an afterthought, Frances pulled out a tiny, pink handgun and shot the skinwalker in the back of the head twice, then did the same for the twitching waiters. "Ugh, I bet Miriam sent those summonings after me," she said casually, turning to me. "She's always so jealous of the guys I pull, you know you know? I kept telling her she's such a red flag, and you know- she kinda needs to change and get a glowup, but does she listen? No, of course not! Who listens to little Frances, am I right?"

I stared blankly at her, then nodded obediently. "Err," I started, trying to arrange my thoughts into coherence, "Thanks for the save earlier, and I'm really sorry for not listening to you, you know?"

Frances beamed at me and leaned over on her cane, dripping monster blood onto my shirt. "Aww, you're so sweet! I'm just glad you're not the sort who can't deal with a girl being stronger than them, you know you know?" She skipped over to the waiters and pulled out the daggers, which I noted to be decorated in eye-wateringly cutesy stickers. "Look, can I invite you over to my place? It won't be nearly as good as here, but I've got some microwave lasagna?"

The sheer hope on her face, and the fact that she had just single handedly taken down the stuff of my nightmares, meant I really couldn't say no.

(A short story I wrote about one of the characters of my novel, Frances! And yes, her taste in men is terrible.)

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@xenascribbles,

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[deluxewhump]

Carlo’s Letters: Suzerain (unsent)

(from a collection of letters in Carlo’s handwriting. This one has no addressee or formal greeting, but the intended recipient is easily inferred)

CW: slave/pet whump, at times ambiguous master/pet relationship, Carlo is 20 writing this but referencing a time he was a minor (17), hand feeding, mention of violence and acid burning in the context of a movie, sexually charged looks in public from men, overall a reflective and tame piece)

April

Someone mentioned the tax season deadline and it brought up a memory I have of you, in that funny, mostly unrelated way memories have of coming up. Years ago, I think I was seventeen, we were trying to re-enter the country after a short trip. Something had gone wrong with our tickets. They were flagged, and we had to visit the consulate before flying.

The girl at the counter had hair the color of fake buttercups in a ponytail tied with a navy ribbon. She looked like an old-timey stewardess I’d seen in magazine illustrations. She said you had to pay a new fee to bring back a pet. No, not a new pet, just any pet. A one-time re-entry fee for those traveling internationally with their pets. You checked the time on your watch and asked when this came about. I got a chill from the subdued, civil curiosity you possess that makes people more nervous than a raised voice. The girl winced when she said last week, like she’d been getting pushback on it since then.

I glanced from her face to yours. The set of your mouth is easier to read than your eyes sometimes, especially when you’re talking to strangers. My eyes drifted down the pressed lines of your sleeve, the neat black lines of the coat folded over your arm. She turned her screen toward you, the policy pulled up and ready. I noticed the official US seal on the top, that sharp eyed, pitiless eagle and borders of navy blue. Knowing this was about me made me lightheaded, and I ran my pinky along the scratchy fabric of your coat like I could tether myself to you that way, focusing on the friction of fabric and skin. I took a deep breath slowly, so no one would notice.

You read her screen and hummed in amusement. The girl laughed nervously with you, unsure if you were about to give her a hard time. But you just paid the fee for my re-entry, and we went back to the taxi and rode to the airport. It was four thousand dollars. My stomach churned at the number.

The security checkpoint was busy. I stayed close to you amidst the throngs of people winding through the stanchions. They had dogs out today, and made us walk past them two by two. An agent with a belt full of gear and black boots made eye contact with me. His eyes were a transparent blue. I looked at the dog instead, its tail wagging softly and his head bent low, sniffing for contraband, thrilled to serve its master.

With two hours until our flight we sat in a dimly lit restaurant booth, all dark wood and polished brass rails at the bar that gave the impression we had stepped out of the sterile, white halls of the airport into another decade. The wall behind the bartender was mirrored. I watched us in the reflection as you ordered two waters and a caprese salad. I said I wasn’t hungry, though when the server brought your penne primavera it smelled so good I had a brief pang of regret.

I drank the water you ordered for me, imagining it cooling me from the inside out and bringing back my equilibrium. How many Italian dinners would four thousand dollars buy? Why did you have to pay such a jaw-dropping fee to bring your own property back into your own home country?

You ate at a pace slower than leisurely and ordered dessert, which was unlike you. I realized it was for me when you scooped the first bite of chocolate mousse cake on a fresh fork and put it in front of my mouth. I must’ve looked miserable because you pulled it away.

“What?” you said gently.

“Why was it so much?”

“Why was what so much, angel?” There was no warning in your tone. Only patience.

“To bring me back?”

You sighed through your nose, finished your demitasse of espresso. “That was a King’s ransom, wasn't it? Just a clever way to drum up some extra revenue. They know most of us won't leave our pets at a consulate over four grand. Well. Some will."

"Can you get it back?"

"I need you to stop wringing your hands over a luxury tax, Carlo." You sounded amused now, which was better than annoyed but not a distant land to it, either. "What did you bring to read on the plane?"

"The Idiot?"

"That won't help,” you said.

I didn't know what you meant by that, but I was alright with being in the dark, or the butt of a joke, if gave you a moment of genuine pleasure. "...It just seems unfair," I shrugged.

You lowered your voice. “It’s got nothing to do with you, sweetheart. It’s no matter. I’d have paid whatever I needed to. It’s a mosquito bite.”

I dropped my eyes. You’d gone out of your way to reassure me, and it had made my face warm. Back then, if I could have changed anything about myself, it would have been the way I blush so easily, making every emotion visible and ten times more humiliating. You offered the fork again and I leaned forward to take the bite of rich, sweet cake. It was good. I was hungry. I wanted another bite. But I’d sit there with my mouth watering for another five minutes while you took a phone call rather than reach for something I hadn’t been handed.

My attention slid off to a woman who’d dropped her purse in her rush to her terminal. Her phone skittered all the way to the drinking fountain by the wall like a rock skipped on water. It seemed to me the real world was inside the restaurant, its fresh bread smells and dark polished wood, and the ant-like rush outside in the airport was an illusion, a large TV screen.

You scooped another bite onto the fork and fed it to me with your cellphone to your ear, looking at me absently as you did. “I thought that’s what you said,” you said to whoever was on the other line. “I agree. They need to vet these guys. The new software makes it a step by step process.” You fed me yet another bite. My teeth hurt from the sweetness, but I took it. Chewed, swallowed. “There shouldn’t be any more mistakes like that. They need to be held responsible.”

You weren’t talking to me, or about me, but your matter-of-fact, stern tone made my spine tingle anyway.

I noticed a broad-shouldered black man with a close, well oiled beard watching my master hand feed me. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, had only a carry on briefcase with him. His watch and cufflinks looked expensive. His leather shoes gleamed. He saw me return his gaze and looked away with profound disinterest.

Strange men in public often had that reaction. Either that, or they would smile at me. It was almost always men. Women sometimes looked, but I couldn’t read their intent as easily. The men who grinned and leered always felt like a violation. I knew most would be a hot breath on my neck and the smell of some grotesque cologne, but at least they were displaying interest. I knew they could not actually touch me. Being an object of envy or desire still made me feel safe in those days, even if I knew the desire was destructive.

If strangers with a penchant for youngish boys would look at me with such open interest in an airport, a cafe, a crowded street, then I must possess something that has value to my master, even though he doesn’t use me in that way. Beauty alone must be enough for him, and that must be the essence of his attachment to me. It was my currency and I knew it.

Once (not with you) I saw a movie in which pets often had their faces burned with acid either as a last-ditch kind of punishment or a form of vandalism by their master’s enemies. I had bad dreams about it for months afterward. I don’t think I had ever imagined violence with any kind of permanence or real malice behind it until that moment. Why would I have?

Men like this one, who looked away as if even curiosity about me was beneath them were harder to be sure of than ones who stared. Were they too polite for that? Were they abolitionists who imagined I’d like to be free of this man I was with? Or did they find me, my submission, my mouth on the proffered fork of man who was so clearly my master repulsive? Was it hate or indifference?

I don't receive those looks anymore. I don't look like a pet. I don't sit like one at the side man who looks like no relation to me, and like he'd own a pet. Max thinks I'm oblivious to the way girls look at me sometimes. I probably am. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I still imagine myself though your eyes. I don't cut my hair too short or let it grow too long. I wear things you taught me to like. I don't have to do any of this. Someone else might shave his head, wear things he knows you'd dislike.

Do I still not possess an ounce of rebellion when it comes to you? I'm like that dog at the airport. I don't understand emancipation or retirement. I am waiting for you to tell me to come home, or else give me permission to become someone else.

You're in prison. I imagine you like some incarcerated mob guy in the thirties, with your own dinner menu and LL Bean slippers and guys who respect a gun runner nodding at you in the yard and calling you boss. What's it really like?

If I send this, will you write me back? Would you write to Max instead, telling him to keep a better eye on my mental state because I'm writing to you in prison? That would be worse than no reply, I think. A hand-slap and a reprimand.

The possibility might keep me from sending it.

Not Yours,

Carlo Svenson

[writingbyshiloh]

Berlin + Mid-Heist

AN: Vienna!Reader stuff is being posted out of order but I have a general plot in mind. When I say chest I mean chest/shoulder/ face etc depending on height. I think he’s 6’2 (!!!!!!) Special thank you to @soraya-daydreams for the Spanish help! Muñeca = doll/sweetheart and mi amor = my love/ no beta, I proofread while making lunch <3

CW: PDA

WC: 0.8K?

The music drifting from the vault and the cheers from your fellow team draw you closer and closer. Assorted voices are singing in Italian, interrupted by whoops and screams. You poke your head into the vault and are immediately greeted with the sight of money and soil flying around. 

Berlin is the first to spot you, and you reach out a hand to help him over the ledge of the vault door into the hallway. He pulls you close to him by your hand, while his other hand reaches to support your waist. He kisses you, hard and passionately, in front of the crew without a care. You feel him dip you back, and using your surprised gasp, he takes advantage of your open mouth to put his tongue past your lips.

It must look like a movie, with one of your arms around his neck and the other with a death grip on his arm to stop yourself from falling. The rest of the crew also seemed to think so, a few wolf whistles cut through the rest of the singing. This must mean they’re in a great mood, with no snappy comments from Toyko about the over-the-top display of affection and excitement. 

She does, however, shower you with bills. You feel them flutter around you, hitting the top of your head and your cheek. You twist away from Berlin, struggling to stand up straight in his arms. 

“The fuck was that -” you start to question her, but she's too excited to wait for your full sentence. 

“Dirt! We hit dirt!”

Nairobi accentuates Tokoy's point by pouring sand from her clenched fist into her open palm below. 

“It’s dirt! We’re getting out of here!” you yell, considerate enough to turn away from Berlin so you’re not shouting right in his ear. “The plan works we’re going to get out of here!” 

You push open the door to Berlin’s main office. You figure you’re past knocking and waiting to be let in. Ever the gentleman, he stands to greet you, walking to the front of his desk. You pull the door closed behind you. Even if it’s the middle of a heist you can't help but want a moment of comfort with your partner. 

“Vienna, what’s wrong?” Berlin asks, reading your tired expression easily.  He holds out his arms for you to lean into and you do without hesitation. 

You rest your forehead on his chest and sigh in relief. Berlin sways the two of you gently without you having to move your feet. 

“You’re clenching your jaw, muñeca” He tells you kindly. You lean back in his arms, giving you some space. You open your mouth, hearing a gentle pop from the corner of your jaw. You clench and grind your teeth constantly while in the Mint, never getting a break from the stress. 

Berlin's hands leave your back, index and middle fingers coming up to either side of your jaw. His hands work small gentile circles into your jaw hinge, trying to alleviate the pain. You tip your head around to angle his fingers where you need them most. 

“You’re too pretty to be stressed.” He says. You let out a small huff of a laugh. You know he means it too. It’s a special type of man to flirt with you in the middle of the heist as if it is a first date. 

The harsh knocking on the door cuts through the tender moment. 

He angles his head to the side giving some space between your faces. “Just a minute!” You grab his wrists with your hands and slowly lower them from your face. 

“It’s okay” you whisper. He looks like he doesn’t believe you, but the insistent knocking doesn’t give him much of a choice. You reluctantly let his hands go and move to the door. As you twist the doorknob, it turns in your hard, whoever is out there trying to get in. 

You step back to avoid the door hitting you as Tokyo barges in. Her eyes glance from you to Berlin, mind no doubt running wild about why neither of you could open the door as soon as she knocked. 

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks, words harsh and accusing. You’re not sure what evidence she has, Berlin’s jumpsuit is still zipped to the top, his holster on his shoulder. You look as you normally do, but maybe just a bit more relaxed. 

“Yes.” Berlin says at the same time you tell her “no.” 

“It’s okay, I have hostages who need meds soon anyway.” you say moving around Tokyo. You mouth be nice to Berlin behind Toyko's back. He winks at you, causing Toylo to whip around to face you. 

“Goodbye, mi amor.” he tells you before turning his attention to Tokyo. You catch the very start of her rant as you close the door and leave. You know Berlin will come find you after and will tell you to take a nap with him. And you can’t wait. 

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

To Start Anew (TF141xLATA!Reader) Ch.3

Alright here chapter 3 ya’ll!! Our dear girl has landed in Italy with the guys!

Warnings: Mentions of creepy dudes, reader being over cautious for a sec, language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent most of the flight in and out of sleep, a stewardess waking you up occasionally for another drink and snacks. The flight was due to land in an hour so you wanted to get your last drink in. As it so happened the stewardess came by and dropped off a drink for you, ‘courtesy of the four gentlemen’. You hesitated on the drink but took it and set it down, ordering a cran and vodka and asking her to thank the men.

You looked the drink over, the ice was floating, it didn’t smell or look weird, plus the plane attendants made the drinks. You don’t think they’d risk their jobs to drug you for four men. You shrug and taste test the drink, it’s some kind of fruity cocktail and the flavors are delicious. You take your time drinking it as you wait for the cran and vodka.

It takes a good 20 minutes before the drink is in your hand, gone, and the plane is landing. Taking a deep breath, you exhale slowly. You’re in Italy! You’re gonna have the best fuckin 2 weeks ever, you’re gonna try not to think about that piece of shit, and you might even do as suggested; find a hot Italian guy! Well for the time that you’re here at least.

By the time you had exited the plane and headed to grab your luggage it was already midday and everything you could already see was beautiful. You watched the carousel go around until you finally saw your bags and rushed to grab them, almost knocking into one of the men you met earlier. “Oh! Sorry!” “ ‘S alrigh’ luv, no harm done.” “I still shouldn’t be rushing around in the airport.” He shrugs and grabs his bags as you grab your’s.

”Eager to get started I take it?” You nod in excitement. “Of course! Who wouldn’t be?! I’m…I’m in Italy!” Simon stares at you for a minute before nodding, it’s not his place to comment on your hesitance, on your sorrow. Simon is nice enough to walk with you to the pick up area, keeping steady conversation, not invading or asking too much.

”Where are the others? Did they leave you to get the bags?” “Nah they went ahead.” He points to the men standing just a few feet away, John is on the phone while Kyle and Johnny talk. “Ah okay. Well enjoy your down time!” Simon nods and heads for the group, tossing a look behind her at a group of men that he noticed wouldn’t stop staring. “Which hotel ya goin to? We can split a car if you don’t mind Johnny’s yappin and the Cap’s chainsaw snores.”

”Oh…uh I don’t wanna infringe on your guys’ time together. I’m fine waiting.” “Cautious little thing ain’t ya?” You scratch the top of your head and give a slight nod. “My dad is a retired cop, so he always made sure I knew how to take care of myself.” “Smart man. Well, there’s a group of men standing behind you that haven’t stopped staring since we came out.” “I’ll just stand closer to you guys to wait if that’s okay?”

”Course, let’s go then.” You follow along beside him and are greeted by the other guys. “Ay Simon you’re not supposed to just drag pretty women along with you. Sorry about him.” “Oh no it’s okay. Just thought it was safer standing in a group than by myself. Sorry for imposing.” “ ‘S no problem bonnie. Would nae wan a pretty girl stranded by ‘erself now. Goin the same way?”

You hesitate and Simon pipes up in your place. “Don’t go askin random people their business Johnny.” Johnny apologizes, not meaning to come off as weird. “Now who’s giving her the ick?” “Aye! I didnae mean ta! Honest!” You laugh at their antics as you watch John roll his eyes and come closer to you. “You’ll have to excuse them, they only function on one brain cell. You stayin at the Hotel Villa Belvedere?” You nod, “Simon asked if I wanted to split a car with you guys but I think I’ve impeded on your time enough.”

Price shakes his head, “Lucky we don’t have to get a car. The shuttle will take us there.” The furrow in your brow tells John you completely forgot that there was a shuttle to transport those that were staying at that hotel. “Oh god I totally forgot about that! Thank you for reminding me!” You hurriedly rummage through your purse to find the shuttle ticket, Kyle and John laugh at the happy and relieved noise you make.

After standing around chatting with them for awhile the shuttle finally pulls up and everyone piles in and off you all go. You pull out your phone to take some pictures and videos to send to your friends and family before just staring out the window. You doze off because before you know it the shuttle jerks you awake, forcing you to hurriedly grab your belongings to make it to the hotel to check-in. You wave goodbye to the guys and hurry to the front desk.

Check-in is smooth and the key to your room is handed over. “One honeymoon suite for the lady. 2 weeks stay, here is a map of the hotel. Breakfast is from 7:30 to 10:30, there is also a restaurant by the pool that is open from April to October. Plenty of restaurants and other things to do that are mostly walking distance. Please don’t hesitate to call us for anything!” You thank the elderly gentleman and he lets you know room service is already included in your package.

You take your bags and head to your room following the map. This place was gorgeous and you were absolutely excited to be here, and your first order of business was to get that bottle of champagne to your room.

Tag list: @cumikering @devcica @catmouseggy

[the-blossica-fan]

Greetings!

I offer Puppykeeper AU headcanons! (I feed this AU born out of the ask and feel free to add stuff I wanna flesh this out)

General ideas for the main trio - aka the characters receiving the most changes.

Sonetto:

- more reserved as TK, even more than Vertin in canon, imagine a sad puppy and thats TK Sonetto.

- she has an extensive collection of poems across the world, and newspapers as well (one of the few ways she can learn about the outside world away from the Foundation)

-outfit wise, I would like to say her default outfit until Book 4 does she get an outfit change, her 1.9 garment alongside maybe a hat, a fedora perhaps. The outfit acts as her first steps to freedom from the foundation, a long arduous journey even more for her than canon Vertin.

Vertin or "Skuld":

- since 2.1 is now out, I would like to say shes close friends or penpals with Barbara! As editors of UTTU they stay in contact through letters.

-slightly more expressive than canon Vertin, but still a lingering depression over the Breakaway and seeks to find out a way to share her immunity with others, if she saved Sonetto maybe she can save others.

-outfit wise, maybe a slightly altered version of her current outfit, more designed for travel. Maybe similarities to Bessmert's outfit?

-You know those email we get from the "Friend from Afar"? In this AU its Vertin sending them, cyptically sending messages and gifts to Sonetto like a secret admirer, just like how she used to gift her as kids.

Schneider:

- Alot of canon saw Schneider warm up to Vertin via her charisma and optimism. For this AU, especially after events of Book 2 (her whole family is still reversed) and the fact that Schneider in this AU was held hostage as part of Books 3/4 means shes more adamant to trusting others. More aloof and distant in the beginning.

-Outfit wise she is more or less the same, maybe by Book 5 shes upgraded to i2 outfit after her coma, i2 roughly a more elaborate dress and a tailcoat reminiscent of outfits in the Godfather.

-While she and Sonetto often butt heads over opinion vs order, the main middle ground between them is Italian culture, on days they aren't bickering Sonetto asks Schneider to teach her Italian and Italian culture.

I kinda wanna flesh this AU out a bit so feel free to add!

Oh don't worry comrade, I got you! You have left this to the right over-thinker...

Great headcanons, I love the Vertin part of it!

Sonetto, at the beginning, probably wore a foundation outfit, similar to Matilda's. Hers was bigger than her body because they had thought of her as taller and stronger, so she felt suffocated under those clothes.

The change in outfit could have been triggered by an accident with the coat, it ripped in an accident and she had to get changed, which made her go to a nearby shop to buy a new one.

Since she has been secluded from the outside world and never had a reason to go to a clothes store, she ended up trying a lot of them (she's a teenager deprived of enjoyment, I think she deserves this moment) and the shop owner ended up helping her pick a better outfit than the "grown-up and unfit clothes", so they ended up giving her a discount on clothes.

Sonetto walked out with a new garment that ended up fitting in. She didn't want to get too close to the person in the store due to what would inevitably happen, but she ended up getting too attached to this gift and piece of freedom.

Constantine wasn't fond of the idea, but if It made Sonetto more willing to explore, she allowed the change.

(I imagine the fedora slightly similar to Isolde's, as in it goes to one side but doesn't cover an eye like Vertin's, I'll make a little sketch later)

I can imagine she also has a lot of letters coming from "Your closest yet far away friend", which might be Vertin. Each letter is a story about the outside word and some advice, as well as information about things she needed to know.

I like to believe Sonetto is acquaintances with Barbara due to some poems she published all the way back in SPDM. It's through her that Skuld knows most of Sonetto's whereabouts, since they're close friends.

Sonetto and Schneider end up in Apeiron because of a letter Skuld sent about her current location, and after some authorization from Madam Z, Sonetto, Schneider and the others left.

It's Schneider who tricked Regulus into getting them there, which Regulus does get mad over because she and Schneider have a very different relationship from hers and Vertin

Does Sonetto still act impulsively after seeing Arcana? Yes. Even MORE after the events of chapter 1 and 2 which she witnessed with her own two eyes, fueling her impulsiveness.

Apeiron's "0" defended her in court, just to then disappear after Sonetto's safety was assured. It still goes similar to the plotline of chapter 5.

Sonetto and Sophia develop an understanding of one another and the path they chose, 37 clings to Sonetto for being such a great student, Schneider proves to be pretty smart herself by solving most stuff with 37.

Not a lot of change since 1.4 is not that eventful until the end.

So, what about Vertin and Martha?

0, as known in Apeiron, is a revered but rarely seen arcanist that defies all they've known. She hides her face with a mask made by Urd and only appears when she seems necessary. After all, she is doomed to be alone.

After defending Sonetto in court, she avoids all interactions with them, having a conversation with Schneider. 0 likes Schneider and thanks her for taking care of Sonetto, which confuses the girl greatly.

In the end, 0 and Martha drive into the storm like in chapter 9 since she and Sonetto are not meant to get along just yet.

Schneider is the reliable force Sonetto reluctantly (lies) leans against. She's smart but playful, her lack of arcane skills are nothing if her guns - made by Druvis and personalized/improved by Laplace - can get rid of the problem.

She's important in chapter 4 but is unconscious through all of chapter 3. In chapter 4 she is used by Constantine as a way to manipulate the opinion about Sonetto and to get others to agree to "use more restraining orders against her team of arcanists", since Schneider was an important member of the Manus.

She teams up with Madam Z, who she ends up making friends with, and helps the others fight against the foundation.

She and Lilya are the best of friends. Drunk together, joke about a lot of stuff and tease their loving PuppyKeeper.

By chapter 7, I think Schneider and Sonetto have a deeper, more intimate (not in the other sense) relationship. They went through a lot, and that rope bridge effect makes them understand each other the most.

Maybe this is the first step for both to talk about whatever relationship they have before leaving to Route 77.

About outfits, this could be the start of their more romantic undertones, as Sonetto helps Schneider change her revealing clothes to something more herself. Her clothes represent her need to grow up, to act mature, so now that she's able to rely on Sonetto as much as Sonetto relies on her, they choose something more herself.

Due to Schneider's demand, they have to be matching. An indirect that completely flew past Sonetto's dense brain.

2.1 still has Lilya, but Schneider's addition is hard to point. I don't think they'd separate due to Constantine needing to keep a watch on Schneider and Sonetto at the same time.

They go there to look for Barbara, like in the OG story, but this time, it's Barbara who tells them where she is before the communication gets cut off. From then on, I'm not sure how to develop it since Argus replaces Lilya's vacant spot, and Schneider there is an addition, not a replacement.

[the-witchs-cafe]

Directory | BYF | Witch Essays

Hello, hello! And welcome to the Witch's Cafe! Have you gotten weary? The crushing loneliness of your own self-torment became way too much? Fret not- this establishment is here for all witches; those who have fallen from the greatest of heights, to those who have been left with nothing at all.

Here in this little coffee bar settling between the cosmos, our customers have traveled far and wide just to socialize and find solace within their shared agonies- some managing to cross through universes; so be on the lookout for those whose faces you might have the luck to recognize!

We also herald our existence with this flag- oh, don't you worry! This flag is free for anyone to use, even if all our operations were to cease!

With all that being said, I'm certain you would like to know the way through these halls;

#Witching Hours: The customer list! Go right ahead and greet yourself to these fine folks! Maybe you'll find more similarities between yourselves than you would intially assume. (Gen. tag for crossover witches made by other people)

#Registered Witches: What cafe would this be if we didn't have any regulars? Recognized their choices of beverages just like the back of my hands! If you wish for a story, they're your go-to's! (Witch essays written by either mod H.N Elly or mod Charlotte)

#Witch cards: Every now and then, familiar faces start popping up more than usual; not as much as our regulars, but it is fun to observe their activities, even if from a distance. (same as the above, but in the form of much smaller witch cards)

#Would Witch Out: Passerby's and their rumors...honestly, you couldn't blame a gal for eavesdropping every now and then, no? Not even while getting the latest scoop on who was the poor soul whose destiny caught up with them? (due to the shutdown of YFWWO and in order to give its mod a break, I've opened up operations here. Submissions are now CLOSED!)

#Would Survive PMMM: Of course, some folks do happen to be naturally lucky; finding a way and reason to keep going forwards even in the darkest of nights...it's admirable, maybe a little enviable, don't ya think? (The complete opposite of the above; if you know a character who would cakewalk through this universe's trials and tribulations, let us know with the full details regarding why!)

#There Is a Pipe Bomb in your Mailbox: Those lil' misfits out there and what tricks they got on their sleeves- ah, what fun would it be if I didn't allow any tomfoolery every now and then? (The joke submissions tag)

#There is no Secret Menu!: (The shitpost tag; hey, the great Italian poet, Dante Alighieri, had called his little self-insert fanfic in which he and Virgil went through all sects of the afterlife "The Divine Comedy" for a reason, right? We all need a reason to crack up since we're gonna be in our self-inflicted torment and punishments for some time.)

#You're now listening to . . .: Solace can be nice every once in a while, but a nice tune to distract yourself from the pain and get in the mood to continue working on your eternal goals is just as comforting! (general audio tag)

I do also have to warn ya'll that we also have to abide by the blacklist; yeah, we do try to cater to all that enter these doors, but an eldritch horror needs to have some standards, ya know?

Hetalia

Country Humans/Country Balls

Any of the media created by Okegom/DeepSeaPrisoner

Minecraft SMPs, especially Dream SMP

Building upon the above, we do not take requests for real world figures, unless if they were obvious jokes. This includes, and is not limited to, youtubers, musicians, pop idols, and individual game developers.

Percy Jackson

Harry Potter

Palworld

Genshin Impact (x)

UrbanSpook // The Painter

Good Omens, and other works by Neil Gaiman (x)

Omori (x)

[velvetfoxgames]

Only if it’s not too much trouble- would it be possible to know what the Halloween emails said? Looking forward to the game!

The photo edits of their costumes are a little too cursed to share, but here's the emails in the order they were sent:

BROOKLYN

Greetings.

Halloween is just around the corner. I will be attending a Hallow's Eve ball. It will require masquerade attire, rather than costumes, which is a bit boring. But I’ve coordinated an outfit with a black, gold and white mask. It’s an authentic Italian mask I had delivered from Rome. Besides that, unfortunately I don’t think any of my associates will be dressing up this month for meetings. I’ve decided to wear Halloween-themed ties, and I’ve also designed a few boutonnieres that will use darker colored flowers from the garden. This way I’ll still be keeping with some of the Halloween spirit.

I hope you’ll be engaging in Halloween activities this year. If you’d ever like any costume advice, please feel free to message me. I can recommend some historical ideas. I’d imagine you’d look rather nice in a 1910s Victorian outfit.

Be well and enjoy this month’s festivities.

Yours truly, Brooklyn Hayes

MILO

Hi. It’s almost Halloween. People at my work are dressing up and having a work party. I’ll be wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. So I’ll be a lumberjack.

I’ve never done much on Halloween before. And I haven't been trick or treating. If there’s anything you think I should try to do this year…I might listen. You usually have good suggestions for things. And a corn maze or something wouldn’t be too bad.

At the very least, I hope you do something fun in place of me.

Talk to you later.

-Milo

RORY

Hi. Halloween is in a few days.

I don’t usually do much for it, but someone is making me go trick-or-treating with them at a mall, even though we’re way too old for that

-_-

I’m also being forced to dress up. So I’m going as Eddie Munson from Stranger Things. I even have a wig. But don’t expect any pictures, because I don’t want that immortalized.

If it was up to me, I’d go to this haunted house nearby. It’s supposed to be really good. I’m actually not sure if you like scary things…? I don’t know. But maybe someday…we could go.

Whatever you’re up to, hope you have fun. Be careful.

Rory

ALEXEI

Hello,

Halloween is only a few days away now. I was doing some research on it the other day. Did you know that Irish immigrants helped bring Halloween to the US? And that jack-o-lanterns were originally hollowed turnips with lights in them to ward off spirits? Halloween is a celebration with a very interesting history. I don’t usually do much for it, but someone I work with decided to get me a costume this year. He thought it would be funny if he dressed me up as Chucky from the movie. I’m not sure why he thinks it’s funny. I have not seen that movie. I know a wig will be required.

I’ll be working on Halloween, but maybe I’ll send you a picture of myself, otherwise I don’t think too many people will see me dressed up.

I hope you have a good Halloween and do a lot more than me. I’d maybe like to see a picture of your costume as well.

Talk to you later and take care, Alexei

TOBIAS

BOO!!!

Happy Halloween B)

Well almost Halloween

I’ll be heading out to one of those celebrity costume parties tomorrow. You’ll probably see what I’m dressing up as in the press but maybe I can tell ya now ;)

I’m goin as a cowboy C):)  and let’s just say the vest I’ll be wearing won’t have anything underneath. Are u picturing it? Good B)

I'd like to know what ur going to be. Bet it’s cute. If you were coming with me to the party we could dress in matching outfits. Don’t know if you’d have much fun tho. Those celebrity parties are actually kinda boring. I think Id rather join with whatever ur doing

Don’t get into too much trouble tomorrow. Message me later. If ya can

Adios partner B)

LEO

HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👻

Hey hey I hope you have a great day today!! Idk if you’re planning to go out or not but either way I hope you dress up or eat lots of candy or watch some scary movies!!! Do something fun because I want you to have the best day possible ^^

My friends and I are having a dnd night at one of their houses. Halloween campaign! We’re dressing up as video game characters lol I’m Link :D

Since we’ll be at a house we can hand out candy. Someday maybe next year I'd like to do something with you? We could go to a pumpkin patch or check out fall colors…just been thinking about it.

Anyway have a good Halloween!!!!!!!!!! Hope I can talk to you later ^^

-Link (Leoooo)

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine cuddling with Hiram Lodge after a long day.

There’s just something about Mondays that made you feel more blue than usual. That cartoon cat had it right - they really were just the worst. Man, you could really use a lasagna right now actually, now that you thought about it. Now that the idea was up inside of your head.

So you decided to get some. Order in advance from the only Italian restaurant that Riverdale had. You’d surprise Hiram with it, rather than cooking tonight. You just were not in the mood to deal with all of the pots and pans, the simmering this and the chopping that. Crying because of onions - no thank you. Let someone else do all of that for you and get paid for it.

But everything turned stale when you got to the restaurant and had to wait for the hostess to return from seating a table to pick up your order. A group of older teens got in behind you, and were waiting as well. Usually you didn’t eavesdrop on the conversations of younger people but when they made it evident that they were talking about you and didn’t give a damn what you heard, your ears just couldn’t close.

“What, did KFC run out of fried chicken?” One of them said, letting out a snort. His friends laughed with him. And then another cut in. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. They’re going to need to restock the place after she orders.”

Mondays. Cruel, cruel mondays. You didn’t want to think that everyone in this town thought of you like this. That they weren’t all racist or enjoyed picking on your size. It was just a rough day. It was just the Mondays. They probably had it rough too, you thought, but then you could hear Hiram’s voice inside of your head telling you to steal up, fight back, don’t just take it. But that wasn’t exactly you.

The hostess greeted you with a smile, and you tried to give her one back, but your heart wasn’t in it. You gave your name and order number, and within twenty minutes, you were back home, food on the table, and sitting on the couch, looking at it. Your appetite wasn’t what it had been earlier.

Hiram noticed. He noticed the smell of the food, and then he noticed your mood. He looked at you, a black cloud forming over his own head. “What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing,” You said, trying to dismiss these feelings. “Just some - some stupid kids. I’m fine, really.”

“Do you know their names?”

“No, I’m not really in the habit of knowing all the teenagers in town,” You said. “Sticks and stones and all that. I’m fine, Hiram. Trust me.”

He gave you a long look. Thinking. He wanted to get details. He wanted to call the Italian restaurant and ask for the names of everyone that was there tonight, and then mess some people up for talking to you in a way that clearly hurt you. But he also didn’t want to hurt you further by bringing it all back up. He was at a crossroads. Eventually, he figured out which route to take. The one that brought him to your side on the couch, his arm around you, trying to tuck you in closer to him. “You’re beautiful, mi amor. Espléndida.”

You allowed yourself to be held, comforted, complimented. It might have been a horrible Monday. But the night was looking better than the afternoon.

Requested by: @smolchubbygoddess​

[huntingingoodwill]

this is gonna be ultracheese children of the corn etc etc but when everything feels shitty i forget how easy it is to love everything so im gonna start posting things ive fallen in love with to remind myself when i feel like everything sucks (and try not to cringe at the cheesiness of it)

so today, i fell in love with

- the elderly couple drinking at a sidewalk cafe in the middle of the day, the woman stroking his hair as he laughed

- the man with an eyepatch with OUT OF ORDER written on it

- the man, intimidatingly gorgeous, a freckle under his eye, carrying his laundry in a bundle down the street, then greeting the laundromat owner with an unexpectedly soft voice

- making daisy chains in a garden beneath a castle

- the old man pushing a wheelbarrow through the garden, smiling at us, saying we looked like a statue we had never heard of

- sparkling apple juice

- the little girl who stopped in the street to look at cats through the animal shelter window

- the bag that said “new balances: worn by supermodels in london and dads in ohio”

- the girl with brown hair, blue eyes, a toothy smile and terrible, easy posture, pretty in a quiet way, sitting in overalls in the sun outside the italian restaurant

- dandelions

- the girl working at the makeup store who complimented my shirt before showing off the little bow she was wearing on her hoodie, “for mother’s day”

- the vegetable stall owner yelling “happy mother’s day!” to his friend who was walking down the street

- the vegetable stall owner’s friend, who smiled and yelled “thank you!” back as she hurried away