#you can just TELL that his family loves him from that name

[puck-luck]

luke x older reader anon again! congrats on 1k! submitting the same request, with hearts and prompt 25 🫶🏻

warnings: unprotected p in v, age gap (not major.), religious themes & motifs, pining, childhood friends to lovers vibes, best friend's brother ofc, jealousy, occasionally insecure statements from luke, really just the sweetest sex you can imagine. i LOVED writing this. hence... the length.

WC: 4,351

You’ve been friends with the Hughes boys as long as you can remember. The first time you met Quinn, it was during your first pee-wee skate. 

Your dad was a big hockey fan, so he wanted to teach you how to skate. The debate had been between figure skating and hockey– your mom loved gymnastics, dance, and figure skating, having been an artistic athlete herself. Your dad wanted you to skate regardless, but hockey felt more suited for your talents. You were a competitive child– and territorial over your toys– so your dad thought it would translate well into a hockey environment. 

He took you to the Olympics in Salt Lake when you were three years old. You went to see figure skating and two of the United States hockey games– one for the men and one for the women. To your dad, it wasn’t a surprise how your eyes grew into saucers when you watched your first live hockey game.

He’d enrolled you in peewee skate the following week. There were no girls-only leagues, so you were put into a coed league. Quinn was in the same league. You became very fast friends– you liked to talk, your new little buddy liked to listen, and then you finally got him out of his shell midway through the season and your friendship was fully cemented. Actually, the second you learned his last name was Hughes– like Sarah Hughes, who won the Olympic Gold in single’s figure skating when you were in Utah– he was stuck with you. Just because you’d preferred hockey didn’t mean you didn’t love ice skating, too. It just wasn’t your passion.

You and Quinn stayed in touch after that peewee hockey season, enrolling in the same league and requesting to be on the same team until you both graduated into the boys- and girls-only leagues. You still remained friends, staying in contact as best you could when he moved to Toronto. You’d send letters back and forth and you became a pro at interpreting Quinn’s boyishly terrible handwriting. He’d tell you about his brothers, his parents, his school, and his hockey teams. You’d keep him updated on home, but then it stopped being home to Quinn. Soon enough, you were only talking about hockey and family. ‘Did you see that Crosby won the Hart Trophy?’ ‘Yeah! Ovi got the Calder though, so we’re still on even playing field. Canadian boy.’ ‘Hey, Ovi is Russian. Choose a real American and get back to me.’

It wasn’t long until you secured an invitation to visit the Hughes during the summer. You and your family went up to Toronto to visit them and you got to play with the Hughes boys for a whole week. It was so much fun, so the next summer, you begged to invite them to your place for a week.

The tradition continued for years, alternating houses and hometowns. You and Quinn both applied to Michigan– he played hockey, you did not. You were a good player, but you’re more of a beer league girl. You weren’t recruited to play college hockey– which, for a while, you thought was weird, because there are so few female hockey players in America. You’re hoping that your lack of recruitment means that there are hundreds of amazing women who are better than you at the sport, and that helped you accept your fate. After all, Quinn would sometimes bring you to the rink when it was empty. You’d get to play for a little while– and it was nice, in college, to have someone who knew you so well.

A lot of people assumed that you and Quinn were together, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Quinn was like your brother. There was that weird month when you were thirteen and you’d gone to visit him over the summer and you’d thought, maybe… but it turned out that you were just thirteen and confused because of your rampant hormones and puberty. Quinn is just your friend, your best friend. 

All of the brothers were pretty off-limits. You’d seen the way girls had started flirting with Jack as he’d entered his teens. You’re able to admit that he’s a cute boy. Luke was an absolute sweetheart, always trying to play with Quinn (and, by extension, you) as you’d grown up. You felt so fond of Luke in a ‘look at how precious he is, I need to protect him’ sort of way.

And then, last night at the lake house, he’d helped you line up a shot in pool and kept his hand on the small of your back when you bent over the table, and your mind had been spinning ever since. 

You can’t tell Quinn, obviously. That’s his baby brother. You’re not even sure how you feel about it– Luke’s always been your little buddy. Now, he’s over half a foot taller than you, so he’s not so little anymore. Still– he’s four years younger than you and Quinn. It’s the equivalent of a freshman hooking up with a senior and you feel icky. 

Regardless, you can’t keep your eyes off of him. He likes to twirl his fork between his fingers when he’s done eating dinner. He’ll spread his legs and sit forward when he’s playing video games with his brothers. An absent-minded, crooked smile falls on his mouth every time he’s only half-listening to you or the other boys. It’s paired with a look in his eyes that you can only describe as warm and content. In twenty-four hours, you’ve noticed more things about Luke than you’ve ever seen before. 

He’s grown up. It’s still a little weird to you, but he’s 21. You’re still 24, even though your 25th birthday is slowly creeping forward. You find yourself justifying the three year age gap, persuading yourself that it’s fine to look at Luke like that, but then you catch yourself and look away. You’re pushing the idea out of your brain.

But he’s goofy, and cute, and so sweet. He’s the same Luke as always, but you’re seeing him in a brand new way.

You’re able to keep yourself at bay for over a week. The boys throw a party and invite some girls over. Normally, you’re not jealous. You’re calm. You don’t care. 

Across the room, there’s a girl flirting with Luke. She’s got a hand on his arm and you’re nursing a drink, seeing red. You’re using Jack as a shield, but you’re still able to look over his shoulder. You think you’re being slick, but it turns out… you’re not.

“What are you looking at?” Jack laughs, tilting his head at you exaggeratedly before turning.

Unfortunately, you know you’ve been found out. There’s only one thing that would have you glowering in such a way. Nothing else in sight is nearly as interesting as Luke and the girl beside him. Jack clocks it right away.

He turns back to you with a tight, knowing smile, like he’s trying to hold back laughter. He pushes his tongue into his cheek and quirks his eyebrows at you. 

“Interesting,” Jack says, swirling his drink in his solo cup and then bringing the rim to his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he sips. 

You pop the bottom of the cup, making the drink splash into Jack’s face. “Fuck off.”

He wipes his mouth and crosses his arms, cradling the drink in the pocket of his elbow. “You and little Lukey?”

You grind your teeth and glare at him in the most menacing way you can. Jack has known you for too long to be intimidated by your glares. He also never really cared that much in the first place– he’s too shit-eating to be concerned about the repercussions of his words.

Jack smirks some more. “Don’t worry,” he says, popping his jaw like he’s turning a piece of gum over in his mouth. “Your secret is safe with me.”

You clench your teeth and continue glaring. You suck your cheeks in and bite down on the inside of your mouth, lips curling with annoyance. 

“You know, he wouldn’t mind if you went over there and staked your claim,” Jack says with a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t think he’d be upset at all.”

“Fuck off,” you repeat again. 

���C’mon, Y/N.” Jack pushes your shoulder lightly, jokingly. “You’re being obvious.”

“Quinn’ll kill me. And– it’s Luke, Jack.”

“So what? It’s not weird. We all grew up together. We’re all around the same age. It’s not a big deal. He’s had a crush on you forever.”

“It’s different,” you sing-song. “He’s younger than me.”

“Let’s go, Cougar,” Jack teases, reaching up to high-five you. 

You don’t take it, instead deciding to punch his stomach. 

Jack doubles over like you actually wounded him, but straightens up smiling. “You oughta go make him jealous.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Dude, I’m serious. Let’s go flirt with Trevor or something. Someone who Luke thinks you’re better than– I guarantee he’ll be over here in a second.”

Jack actually tugs you toward Trevor and explains the plan before you can even get a word in. So much for keeping your secret. Trevor, to his credit, is a very willing subject. He keeps a hand on your waist during the whole conversation and you do your best to ignore the niggling desire to look over your shoulder at Luke. 

Turns out, you should’ve been worried about Quinn.

“Get your hands off her, Zegras,” Quinn snaps, pushing Trevor’s hand off of your waist and stepping between you. “You’re not allowed to fuck my friend.”

If that’s how he feels about one of his friends touching you, then you feel a bit faint at the idea of Quinn’s reaction to Luke getting together with you. That might seal the deal– you really can’t fuck Luke.

“I’m not fucking her,” Trevor says. “We’re working an angle here, Quinn.”

Quinn scoffs. “Yeah? What angle is that, Trevor?”

“We’re trying to make Luke jealous, hello?” Trevor says like it’s obvious. 

“Oh my God,” you groan, covering your face in your hands. “Trevor, you fucking moron.”

“What?” Quinn demands, but his look turns into sheer bewilderment. “You’re doing this for Luke?”

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, stomping away. 

Trevor, somehow, is free to follow after you. Quinn hasn’t stepped in to stop him. You wish he would. He’s probably too confused. “This is good,” he says. “He’s definitely going to see us going upstairs together. Hold my hand.”

“No.”

“Dude, it was working. Luke was looking over at us the whole time.”

“I don’t care, Trevor.”

“Don’t you want him?”

“Not like that,” you hiss between your teeth. “I don’t want to make Luke jealous. I want him to come to me because he wants to, okay? Go downstairs. I don’t want to be with you right now.”

Trevor holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. I’ll go. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You disappear into your bedroom, changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. It’s nice to have your own bedroom in the lake house that Jack and Quinn bought with their NHL salaries, but tonight it’s bittersweet to be able to hear the party going on as you lay in bed. It’s not at all like when you fall asleep during a holiday party and your parents put you to bed, and you can still hear the laughter of the guests in your dreams. Now each bout of laughter reminds you of her, the girl whose hand was on Luke like she already owned him, and you wonder if he’s making her giggle with his stupid corny jokes.

God, last week you didn’t even like Luke. Now you’re burning with jealousy– or maybe it’s the fires from Hell, because you’ve got a completely inappropriate crush on your best friend’s little brother. You can never come back to the lake house like this, at least not until you’ve gotten over this shit. Why are you so affected? It’s Luke, for fuck’s sake.

It’s Luke again when someone comes knocking at your door. You thought it would be Quinn, ready to chew you out or question you extensively about this crush. To your surprise, the problem himself appears. 

“You okay?” Luke asks, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. His silhouette is burly and big and you have to close your eyes to shake the pang of emotion that penetrates your chest.

“Just tired,” you reply quietly. “Couldn’t stomach the party anymore.”

“Did Trevor say something to upset you?”

Quieter: “No, Luke.”

He hovers silently. You can hear the cogs in his brain turning. His pitch matches yours when he speaks next, although his tone is much more melancholic than despondent. “Are you mad at me?”

You hesitate for a second too long. You’re not mad, but you’re certainly taken aback by the uncertainty in his words. “No, Luke,” you say again, but this time the pang that goes through your chest is more familiar. You don’t want to upset him. You’ve always wanted to protect Luke from the world, but now you’ve made him unsure and insecure. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Luke asks, and you have to take a shaky breath. He sounds so small. It’s like the time that you didn’t let him ride bikes with you and Quinn to the store, even though he begged, and then he cried and ran to his mom. After seeing Luke’s puffy red eyes and resolute determination to ignore you for the rest of the night, your soda and candy bar didn’t taste as good. In fact, they tasted a bit like cardboard. You ended up throwing half of the bar away and going home early. You swore you’d never make sweet little Luke feel that way again.

“You wouldn’t get it, I don’t think,” you tell him quietly, pushing yourself up in bed and resting on your elbows. You take a deep breath and look at him, sure that he can see the way your chest rises and falls. 

Your eyes have adjusted enough that you can see the way Luke’s mouth opens, as if to say something, then closes with a shake of his head. You notice his eyes fluttering towards the corner of your room, removing you from his line of vision. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Luke says, biting his lower lip in a dejected and heartbreaking way. “I get it. I’ll go.”

“Luke,” you sigh. “Don’t be like that.”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t wanna talk to me,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not friends like that. I’m not Quinn.”

“Luke.” You push yourself up further, pushing the covers down and criss-crossing your legs. “It’s not that.”

“It’s always that. And if it’s not that, then it’s that I’m not Jack. I just– I don’t want to hear that from you.” Luke shrugs again, always defaulting to that motion when he’s deflecting because he’s big and awkward and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. As if he’s thinking the same thing, you watch him shove his fists in his pockets and keep his shoulders tense.

“Come here,” you request, head tilted and mouth turned down with sadness. You shift your position so that both of your knees are under you and you’re sitting back on your heels. “Luke, please.”

You hold your arms out for a hug, not for the first time in your life, and Luke shuffles over. He takes his time and he refuses to meet your eyes, just stooping down so that he can wrap his arms around your middle. It’s a weird position, given that you’re kneeling on the bed and he’s half-bent over. You can feel the pout and doubt all over Luke’s face, so you reach a hand up to his curls and run your thumb over one of his more perfect spirals. He’s letting it grow out a bit and you like how messy it looks.

“Jack told me something,” you reveal softly, still petting through his hair. Luke stiffens in your arms, but doesn’t pull away. “He said you like me.”

Luke groans and struggles in your grip, even sinking to his knees to try and get out of your grasp. He’s kneeling beside the bed, and you bring your legs around so that he’s situated between them. You keep a hand on his shoulder, the other still playing with his hair. He’s evading your eyes again, looking stoutly at the floor.

“I have feelings for you, too,” you whisper, the admission feeling heavy and wrong and like a knife to the gut. Admittance is the first step, but you just feel silly. “And I don’t really know how to deal with those. You’re– I’ve known you since we were so little, Luke.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Luke says bluntly, a hint of a complaint in his sentence. “You’ve been acting weird because you like me, too?”

“I was upset that there was a pretty girl talking to you,” you say sheepishly. “And I just didn’t want to go along with Jack’s plan. He wanted to make you jealous. Thought that would work.”

“I’m always jealous when you talk to another guy,” Luke tells you like it’s obvious. “I just, kind of, gave up. I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me. I thought I’d get over it. Stupid childhood crush, you know.”

“Yeah,” you agree, understanding that you yourself just experienced a similar line of thinking. You said you’d get over it, but you don’t really want to. Not right now, at least, when Luke’s sitting in front of you and he’s got a tentative hand on your calf, rubbing his thumb over the muscle and staring up at you with big eyes. You bite your lip, trying to think logically about this, but all you can do is examine Luke’s features like you’ll never get to see them again. Maybe you won’t– not like this. Not in this liminal space between something and nothing. This is one of those moments that you know won’t last– because the next one will change everything. So, for a moment longer, you just reach out and run your thumb along Luke’s cheekbone, eyes flickering between his cheek, his lips, and his eyes. 

“What do we–” Luke loses his words and presses his lips together, looking up at you, expression completely tortured. He turns his head and kisses the side of your knee, which makes your heart split a bit more.

“I don’t know,” you admit. You wish you had a better answer for him. You truly aren’t sure what you can do from here. There are too many things to consider– so you won’t consider them at all.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Luke asks. 

A fond burst of laughter escapes from your chest. “Lukey, this is a twin bed. We can’t both fit.”

A pout comes over Luke’s face again. “We can too,” he insists, furrowing his brow a bit. “I’ll prove it. Move over.”

He’s climbing into your bed before you can tell him no. His long and spindly limbs are coaxing you to lay back, then warming you as he holds you tight. It’s a tight squeeze, but that just means that you’re touching him everywhere. It’s nice and you suddenly wish you were facing him, so you roll awkwardly in his arms until you’re face to face. Your noses are nearly touching and Luke is staring at you, really taking you in. 

Your eyes find his lips… and then he’s leaning in.

It’s charged with tension and electricity, but it’s soft and hesitant. Neither of you want to test the boundaries and you don’t think this feels quite real. Your stomach is swooping with bats, not butterflies, and it’s exactly what you wanted. This is what you expected when you found yourself imagining kissing Luke this past week, even if you shook yourself out of it because it felt inappropriate. Here, it feels so right that you swear you could start crying from relief. You’ve never felt that way before from just a kiss. Your chest could burst.

When he pulls away, you feel frozen in time. Your eyes are closed and his lips are right there, a hair’s breadth away. You swallow, touching his chest, palm flat. 

“Was that okay?” Luke asks.

You nod, then slide your lips over his again. 

You come together in a way that can’t be described as anything other than desperate. Your hands touch him in any way they can and Luke’s do the same. You move in tandem like you’ve got a language of your own– an indignant hum from you followed by a sweet “I know” from Luke before he touches you exactly the way you want.

Kissing the whole time, Luke gets you on your back. Your lips only part to remove your shirt, then his. Luke’s big hand cradles your jaw and neck, keeping your head and mouth exactly where he wants them. He guides you with a surprising amount of experience and sureness, although maybe he’s fueled by the same feeling of rightness as you are.

He opens you on his other hand, snaking his hand into your pajamas shorts because he can’t be bothered to remove them. His hips roll against your thigh, his long torso displacing your pelvis from his as he kisses you. He’s big– you knew it height-wise, but now you can feel him against your leg, and you want him to fill you. You want him to claim you, to take you– you want to give all of yourself to Luke. It’s madness and though you’re sure you’ve lost your mind, the crack in your chest that pours out love for Luke has taken control of your body.

After three fingers and a lot of whimpering from you, clutches at Luke’s hair and bruising kisses working in tandem with your noises, Luke works your shorts down. He breaks from your lips so that he can take you in beneath him. He touches your waist and the curve of your stomach, the one that you cringed at for so many years as a teen but finally accepted in your grown age. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says reverently, eyes portraying nothing but sincerity.

You can’t say anything to that, nothing that can match his utterly genuine sentiment or portray how grateful you are that he took the time to say those words, so you kiss him again. You muster up an embarrassingly wanton ‘please,’ which you draw across his lips like a paintbrush. 

You can’t get enough of saying his name as he presses into you, his heavy body blanketing yours. You can feel his every muscle move as he works into you and you’ve never felt more like a masterpiece. There were times when you made fun of the phrase ‘making love,’ but sex with Luke feels intensely like you’re creating something tangible by coming together in this way. 

The moans and cries that you’re trying to stifle so that no one comes barging in should be enough to convince Luke that this is everything to you. Sweet, sweet Luke– he seems choked up when he says, “They can’t fuck you like I can.” He says the sentence like he has to prove it to you, like you’re not falling apart under his touch. He pleads with you between the words, in the spaces where you can see his breath hitch in his throat.

You’re still not sure where this night will leave you tomorrow morning. Everything, everything has turned on its head. Somehow, you feel a bit like you’ve been leading up to this for a while, not just in the past week. Luke knew it before you did.

“No,” you agree, touching his cheeks and keeping his eyes on yours. “They can’t.” You kiss him briefly, feeling his tongue swipe into your mouth before you pull away. “I’m yours.”

Luke actually keens at that, his arms straining as he shifts his weight to fuck into you harder. Because you’re so close, the bed isn’t moving enough to bang against the walls or creak on its boxsprings, and you’re glad. This is a moment for just you and Luke– you don’t want anyone hearing. You don’t want anyone to be around. You hope that they’ve all miraculously disappeared and you and Luke are the last people in the house, maybe even on Earth.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Luke repeats, his forehead meeting yours. You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale, his breath automatically syncing with yours. You’re overwhelmed, but deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice reminding you about an ancient tradition in Polynesian culture where forehead-to-forehead contact and breathing together is sacred, like you’re sharing the breath of life– like there’s some power in the universe, a god or many, clicking things into place.

He unravels first, fucking you through his release with urgence akin to the sentence he said before. Always trying to prove himself– but Luke has always been enough for you. Maybe not always in this way, but now, there’s nothing he can do to shake your favor. All of the feelings in your heart have been poured out, shared and mixed with his own, and it’s created a puddle– or a bubble– around the pair of you. 

It’s been written that sex is when two people come together as one. You finally understand what they mean, joining Luke in the seas of ecstasy.

Sweet nothings and touches like worship follow. Your hands can’t get enough of Luke’s strong figure. He runs his fingertips along your body like he’s in awe of your figure, like he gets to touch a statue so lifelike and beautiful that he can’t believe it was ever a block of marble at all. 

The concerns about what will happen tomorrow don’t exist here, in your dark bedroom with Luke stuck to you like glue. For now, it’s just you. Together, breathing, touching, loving– there’s nothing else that could matter. This is it.

note: i have to work on my grad school app in the coming days, so this will probably be the last blurb/oneshot until i finish the application. but, i might get bored of writing that and could pop in to do another smut piece here and there ;) hopefully i'll chat with y'all soon! but i don't want to rush this grad school app LOL

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard (NSFW)

"Honey, honey, I could be your bodyguard."

Synopsis: You and Joe elope after being engaged for only 24 hours. The goal was to tell everyone when the two of you were ready, but it doesn't exactly work out the way that the two of you intended.

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If UNDERAGE

Your head was laying on Joe's chest as his arms were wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after the two of you had gotten back home from dinner where Joe had proposed to you in front of your closest family and friends.

He had been planning this for a while and wanted to keep it simple, just how he knew that you would like it. You weren't one for dealing with the spotlight and didn't like a lot of attention on you, the same way he was.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly unlocked it with his passcode that happened to be your birthday and saw that the time was around two in the morning. Putting his phone back down, he saw you pop one eye open to look at him and he quickly leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Being a creep now are we?” He asked you as you laughed at him and sat up letting the comforter and sheet fall away from your naked body due to the activities that took place before you had drifted off.

“What? I can't look at my handsome fiancé whom I love so much?” You asked as you pinched his cheek.

“Of course you can and I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Joe responded while playing with the engagement ring that he had slid on your finger just hours before.

It took him almost an entire six months to get the design of the ring up to his standards and made sure that it was a design that you would approve of too. It was funny when he thought about it because in order to get your opinion, he would show you different designs and ask what you thought. However, you really truly didn't think anything of it because Ja'Marr had also been planning to propose to his long time girlfriend and you assumed it was Joe asking you for him.

You looked at him as he did it and knew for a fact that the wheels in his head were turning.

“Joey, what's the matter?”

Once he heard your voice, he looked up at you and continued to play with your ring before he answered you.

“Would it be crazy for me to say that I want us to be married already?”

“No, not at all. I can't wait for the day that my last name changes officially. We have to start planning. Big wedding or small wedding?”

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to.” He added before kissing you again.

“But what about Destinee? She was going to be my maid of honor.”

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

“Especially not her! Baby, I am in no way, shape, or form telling you what to do but I literally HATE her and she's not a good friend to you.”

“Joey! Hate is a strong word!”

“I know and I'll repeat myself. I HATE her. Since we're talking about her, you know she tried to come onto me tonight? AFTER I PROPOSED with her witnessing the entire thing! Only reason why I invited her is because you like her. Because left up to me, her ass can choke. Your parents don't like her either!”

You crossed your arms and looked at him dumbfounded.

“She wouldn't do that, babe.”

“Oh, but she did. Ja'Marr wasn't paying her any attention but I don't know why she got the bright ass idea of coming over to talk to me. Why does your best friend think she can pull a move on me with her funky ass breath? Besides I am CLEARLY spoken for.”

“JOSEPH!”

“I had to interrupt her to give her a piece of gum because her breath was hot enough to burn off my eyebrows. I'm surprised I still have any to be honest.”

Failing miserably, a laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head at him.

“I'll ask her about it and you probably interpreted that wrong.”

“Make sure you have a piece of gum on standby, can't have my future wife dying and leaving me. Cause of death, stinky breath by her so-called best friend. You probably won't even need for me to bury you because her breath by itself will probably cremate you.”

“I literally CANNOT with you.” You told him as you shook your head and began laughing all over again.

“Yes you can and you better get used to it since you said yes to marrying me. No take backs.”

“Wouldn't dare think of doing that in a million years. Now where are we going to do this? Vegas?” You asked but turned up your nose at the same time.

“No. Definitely not. That's where everyone goes. I want us to be different. We can always go somewhere that we can also have our honeymoon.”

“I like that idea. I want beaches and sand. Somewhere warm.”

“Hmm…. So I can fuck you on the beach? Good idea.” He whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss directly underneath it.

“Yes, but I was literally not even thinking that.”

“Shit, I was and I have no problem admitting it.” Joe told you as he shrugged.

“I noticed with your little nasty ass.” You teased and he sent a small smirk in your direction.

“You weren't complaining about it a few hours ago when you were riding my face.”

“I… touché and I got it! Barbados! That's where we can go.” You excitedly told him and it looked as if he was thinking it over, but quickly agreed with you.

“Okay, Barbados it is. I'll get everything together and you go to sleep.” Joe told you as he kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before placing one on your lips.

“But..”

“I got it handled, my future wife needs to go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we need to get ready to head to the airport.” Joe told you as you nodded and laid back down on his chest.

He quickly wrapped his arm around you before using his other hand on his phone to look for a hotel for the two of you to stay at while also planning to make a few calls to get the two of you on a private jet. He finally decided to rent a vacation house so the two of you would have more space.

He was more than halfway done when you did a sudden movement and his eyes immediately looked down at you to make sure that you were okay and you were once again looking at him.

“Baby girl, I thought I told you to go to sleep?”

“Yes, you did but for some reason I keep waking up.” You whined as you shifted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Hmm, you need me to help you out with that?” Joe asked as he set his phone down in order to give you his full attention.

Looking back up at him with a smirk, you quickly nodded knowing what his version of helping you meant.

“But you need to use your words to tell me exactly what you want.” He told you as he flipped the two of you over and you were now underneath him.

“But you already know what I want.” You breathed out as he began to nip at your neck and moved further down.

“Say it or I'm not going to do anything and make you get to sleep on your own. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What does my fiancée want me to do to her?”

“She wants you to put her to sleep.”

“By doing what?”

You didn't give him an answer before you felt him move down further and spread your legs apart while running his fingers across your folds, teasing you.

“By doing something like this? Or hold on, maybe you meant this?” He asked and you quickly felt his tongue make contact with your core as you let out a gasp.

“Yesss.”

“Hmm, yes what?” He asked you once more as you felt his tongue once more on you.

“My fiancé is teasing me and I don’t like that at all.”

“Then my fiancée needs to use her words and tell me what she wants.”

“I want your face between my thighs.”

“Good girl, now see, was that so hard for us to do?” Joe was trying to get an answer out of you as he made himself comfortable in between your thighs just like you asked him and began to play with your folds quickly slipping two fingers inside you making your breath hitch in your throat.

Joe didn't bother waiting for an answer and immediately began to pleasure you with his tongue paying special attention to your clit as he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Shiiiit, keep going.” Was all you could let out as the grip that Joe had on your legs became tighter making sure that there was no possible way for you to move away from him and at this rate, that was the last thing that you wanted.

One of your hands quickly found its way to Joe's hair as you were ultimately trying to pull him even closer even if by now it was damn near impossible.

You riding his face earlier wasn't nearly enough for you to be satisfied and the way your body was responding quickly let him know. As soon as the two of you had gotten into the car from leaving dinner earlier, you had been teasing each other during the entire ride home and barely made it inside before clothes were being ripped off from each others bodies.

Inserting a third finger, Joe began to suck on your clit harder making your upper body squirm because your lower body was being tightly held by him.

“Baby, oh fuck. I'm close, so so close.”

Hearing this, Joe decided to stop which quickly left you confused and he immediately heard your protest since you wasted no time in telling him.

“Joey, what the hell!? I said I was close, why did you stop!?”

“So I could do this.” He told you as he climbed back up your body to kiss you while also sliding into you at the same time with a gasp erupting from you.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as he moved in and out of you at an even pace with him kissing you every few strokes.

Closing your eyes, the grip that you had around his neck quickly became tighter and you soon heard his voice.

“Keep your eyes on me and don’t make me ask again. You understand?”

Your eyes opened and listened to directions, but the head nod that you gave him in response was not sufficient enough. He immediately broke his embrace from you and you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck which instantly made you open your eyes and look at him as he lightly squeezed giving just the right amount of pressure.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you using your words when I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to do what you’re told and stop disobeying me. Because I will stop altogether and make you use your vibrator.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Go ahead and try me, baby. It’s your choice. Now your eyes better not leave mine. Matter of fact, get up here and ride me.”

Joe didn’t wait for an answer from you as he flipped the two of you back over and you were in the original position that you had been earlier in the night.

Putting his hands behind his head and staring up at you, he smirked.

“You don’t need my help since you like disobeying me, go ahead.” He answered your question already knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Nine times out of ten, Joe would have a tight hold on your hips and help guide you as you rode him, but you knew that you being rebellious against him made him decide to make you do it on your own.

“But babeeee.”

“Less talking, more riding.”

Placing one of your hands on the mattress beneath the both of you and lining him up with your entrance, you slowly eased your way down making a quiet moan escape from Joe’s mouth.

Once you found the perfect pace for the two of you, you could feel yourself growing tired and switched from your right hand being on the mattress to your left thinking that it would help.

Joe could tell that you were growing tired with how your movements were slowing down and took pity on you as you felt him grip both of your hips.

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding your head, Joe motioned for you to lay down on top of him and as your head was resting on his shoulder, slow deep strokes were given from underneath you as you were moaning right next to his ear.

“That’s my good girl, you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

That familiar feeling that you knew all too well was building and knew sooner rather than later you would hit your peak. Joe obviously was close too, because his movements had now grown sloppy.

“Babe.” You softly breathed out and you could feel him nod his head as yours was still on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re almost there aren’t you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me, baby? Cum all over daddy’s dick?”

No words left your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid leave your body and cover him underneath you and not even ten seconds later felt him release inside you.

You laid in the same position for a few minutes as Joe placed soft kisses up and down your neck and shoulder as you were trying to catch your breath.

Once you felt that you could move, you once again turned your head to peek one eye open at Joe and he smiled at you before leaning over to place several kisses on your lips.

“I know you want to lay on me and stay like this, but I need to change the sheets so we can finally go to sleep. Go ahead and take a shower while I do this and then I’ll come join you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise and then in a few hours we’ll wake up and get married in Barbados.”

The two of you had just touched down in Barbados an hour ago and you were currently exploring the beach house that Joe had rented for the both of you. Seeing as he told you not to worry about anything and that he had it handled, when you finished exploring you were simply going to decide on what you were going to wear since the goal was for the two of you to get married by the end of the day.

While in the master bedroom and looking out the window, you didn’t hear Joe come in the room and he was simply admiring you from the doorway before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I asked for somewhere warm near beaches and my future husband definitely took that into consideration. This beach house is amazing.”

“Oh, so your picky self approves?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I approve.”

“Good, so start getting ready so we can leave and go get married.”

“I still have to figure out what I want to wear, none of the dresses that I have are really ‘get married in’ worthy.”

“Hmm, you could always go in nothing, I’m not opposed. That would be better for me actually.”

“JOSEPH!” You exclaimed as you turned around to look at him.

“Hey, I just gave you another option.” He replied as he held his hands up defensively.

“But, seriously, baby. I do not care what you wear and I know that you’re going to look beautiful regardless.”

“Aww, you love me don’t you?” You asked and Joe immediately nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you so much because if I didn’t, I would not let you put your cold ass feet on my back when we’re in bed because you’re cold and refuse to wear socks.”

“I cannot wear socks when I sleep! It’s weird!”

“What?! How is it weird?! So you’d rather turn me into a popsicle?”

“Yes, and I will not be discussing this topic further. Happy wife, happy life, Joseph Lee. I know you’ve heard that saying before so prepare yourself.”

After taking a shower and putting on your coconut scented lotion, you slipped into your soft pink sundress and began to play with your hair as you tried to figure out what you were going to do with it, style wise.

It was already in boho knotless braids and since it was obviously warm outside, you opted to put it into a high ponytail. Once it was up how you wanted, you applied light make-up and slipped in your big hoop earrings.

Sliding on your sandals, you heard Joe’s voice behind you after a whistle had escaped his lips.

“Look at how beautiful my fiancée is, just like I expected for her to be. I see you decided to not go along with my idea of what you should wear or not wear.”

“And get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country? I think not.”

“They have nude beaches, I looked into them.”

All you did was roll your eyes at him as you found your tennis bracelet that Joe had gifted you a year prior and attempted to put it on your wrist. Joe noticed that you were having some trouble and quickly put it on for you.

“Thank you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now let’s go and get married.”

Laughter could probably be heard at least three miles away as the two of you were enjoying each other's company while relaxing in the hot tub that was located on the side of the vacation house rental.

You tried to control it so wine wouldn't spill everywhere as you held the glass with your left hand that now had your full wedding set glistening as the sun had just fully set.

“Joey, cut it out! You are going to make me spill this!”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time tonight either.” He told you as he swiped it from you and drank it in one gulp as you looked at him in disbelief.

“BABY! You owe me another glass. Your drink is over there!” You whined as you playfully hit his chest.

“Do you want some?”

“No, I wanted mine!”

“I'll go and get it under one condition.”

“The only condition that is necessary is that you'll get it because I'm your wife.”

“Oh, so you're already taking advantage of your name now being Mrs. Burrow, huh?”

“Yes, so go get it for me.” You told him as you pointed to your wine glass that he was indeed still holding.

“And to think you said the bottle looked like it would be considered girly wine.”

“It's good! I wasn't expecting it to be that good. But I'll get you another glass on one condition that I have.”

“And what's that?”

Joe didn't respond, but instead leaned forward to kiss you.

“Okay, now I can go.”

He slid you to the side of him since you had been sitting on his lap to get your refill for you. Joe had made his way back into the house when your phone began ringing and you saw that it was your best friend Destinee and quickly answered.

“Destinee!” You exclaimed since you still couldn’t contain how excited you were.

“Hey, where are you?” She asked not bothering to return your enthusiasm.

“With Joe. Why do you ask?”

“Did you forget that we were supposed to go out today?” She asked and even though you couldn’t see her, you had a feeling that she had definitely rolled her eyes at your response.

“Shit. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well we can go out later. How long are you going to be with him?”

“Destinee, can you keep a secret? Like you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you.” You whispered into the phone trying to make sure Joe couldn’t hear you.

“Of course I can. What is it? And why are you whispering?”

“I'm in Barbados.”

“Uh okay?”

“And we just got married.”

“YOU ELOPED!?” She exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Not so loud! But yes and you have to promise not to tell anyone. I figured that my best friend should at least be one of the people who know about it before anyone else. You’ve been there for the long run and have always supported me through everything.”

“Who else knows? You said, one of the people.”

“No one else does and we'll tell everyone once we're ready. But I hear Joe coming back, talk to you later and I'll send you pics.”

Quickly hanging up the phone, you set it to the side of you as Joe was all smiles as he emerged from the house and handed you another glass of wine.

“Your drink Mrs. Burrow.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you took a small sip and Joe was climbing back into the hot tub and once again slid you into his lap.

His arms completely engulfed you as you slightly turned to lay your head on his shoulder.

“I have a lot of things planned for us to do tomorrow, but the majority of those plans don't require clothes.”

“And why am I not surprised?” You laughed as you shook your head and took another sip.

“I have to take advantage of being able to spend time with you because you know how busy I'll get during the season.”

“It's your job and I will not be getting in the way of that. I've supported you this long and it's not going away any time soon. I'm here for the long haul obviously.” You told him as you gestured towards your ring.

“I just never want to get so focused on my career that I lose you in the process because when it is all said and done and I’m not playing anymore, I still want you to be at home waiting for me.”

“Babe, if I haven't left yet, what makes you think that I will? I know how important it is to you and you have always treated me like a priority ever since we got together. And I'll still be here when you retire from playing. You manage to have football and me as a priority and neither one is slacking, I promise.”

“And if you ever feel like I'm not doing that, you need to tell me. You are one of the most important people in my life and it's going to stay that way.”

“I promise that I will even though I know that I won’t have to.” You replied before a yawn quickly escaped your mouth.

“Someone tired over there?”

“A little, it’s been a long day after all. I barely got any sleep since SOMEONE was too busy keeping me awake.” You responded while giving Joe the evil eye.

“And as I recall, my now wife specifically asked me to put her to sleep so I don’t want to hear it. But come on, you can finish your wine after we get comfortable in bed.”

“And no funny business! I actually want to sleep.”

“I promise and besides, I want you to sleep too in order to be ready for me for tomorrow.” Joe told you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, you weren’t saying that when I was eating you out last night and you need to get over it, till death do us part remember?”

“Don’t push me, Joseph.” You scolded as you finally stood up to climb out of the hot tub with Joe right behind you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

When you had finished showering and moisturizing your hair, Joe had briefly left the bedroom to do only God knows what so you took it as an opportunity to text Destinee one of the pictures that you had taken of the both of you earlier in the day. Once it was sent, you put your phone on do not disturb and plugged it in to charge on the nightstand as you slipped under the comforter.

Joe came back a few minutes later and crawled in bed beside you as you instantly moved to lay on him.

“I’m happy we did this.” He whispered as he held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Me too.”

The next morning, the constant vibration of Joe’s phone instantly brought him out of his slumber and he sighed in annoyance. Glancing down and seeing that you were still sleeping with your braids failing out of your bonnet, Joe smiled to himself as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

He figured that he should answer his phone since it was probably important and was surprised to see a bombardment of texts and calls from different people as he did his best not to wake you up. Instantly confused, he opened the most recent notification and it was from his mom Robin with a photo attached.

Mom- Since when were you two going to tell us that you eloped?

“Shit.” Was all Joe could mutter to himself as his stomach dropped. He did his best to not make any sudden movements, but quickly failed and that instantly woke you up.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked Joe as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard and he quickly handed you his phone without saying a word.

Your eyes instantly went wide as you read the text over and over again and looked at the picture that Robin had sent.

“Shit. How did they find out?” You asked as you turned towards Joe who now had his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Hmm, I should be asking you that, Y/N. You took this picture and only had it on your phone, so why is it now all over social media?”

[planetpedri]

hey queen! Could you do a angst of Pau cubarsi? Pau and reader having an argument before going to his family gathering. Pau’s sister noticed that reader is quite upset and talks with Pau about it. When they return home, they’ll talk about it and everything! 🫶🏼

Coming clean — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unresolved argument with Pau had ruined your whole night. Luckily for you, Irene is right there to help you get Pau to come clean.

Word count: 1.17k

Disclaimer/s: arguing , angst to resolved ending.

A/N: it’s 3:45 am and i can’t sleep so here is this! + hi Bea! how about you try to end a fucking post w out it ending in a kiss???🤦‍♀️

The car ride to Pau’s parent’s house was silent. No music, no talking, just pure and tense, silence. The lingering anger from the argument that had only happened ten minutes ago was still fresh.

Even when you arrived, at least a foot apart, you still hadn’t talked. You separated from each other instantly; Pau finding his cousins and you wandering around aimlessly.

Irene watched as you arrived, she could sense that something was off when instead of finding her or her parents, you milled around the food table.

She pushed off the counter she was leaning against and made her way towards you. When Irene called out your name, you plopped a grape into your mouth before turning to face her with a forced smile.

“Irene! Hi!” Your expression falters when you see the way she was looking at you—pity. “What?”

“Let’s go take a walk, yeah?”

Your eyes dart to Pau, who was busy conversing with his cousins. “Okay, yeah. Where to?”

Looking around, the girl points to the back door. “My mom’s flowers started to bloom, want to take a look?” Subtle. Very, very subtle, Irene.

Lips pulling into a thin line, you nod. Irene spins on her heels and marches her way towards the door. You pass Pau, but he doesn’t bother looking in your direction, though you knew he saw you by the tick of his jaw.

Trying not to scoff, you take a deep breath and follow Irene out the door. The spring air hits you comfortingly and the view of Mrs.Cubarsí’s flower garden brings a genuine smile to your face.

“It’s really improved since the last time I was here.” You comment, bending down to sniff one of the vibrant flowers.

Irene hums in agreement. “So, what happened with you and Pau?” When your head snaps in her direction, she chuckles. “Sorry, I just noticed you two were unusually distant and you looked upset.”

You let out a quiet, “oh!” Before you continue. “We argued. It’s a communication problem.” You wave your hand as if to dismiss the problem, but a butter taste lingers on your tongue.

“Okay… tell me about it? Pau is usually an open book, or at least, he used to be.”

You snort at the last part. “Used to be, yeah. Not anymore. For some reason, he’s been holding things back recently, and oh! Yesterday, I went to hold his hand and he—well, he pushed his hand back into his pocket.” You point at the house, though not directly to wherever Pau probably was. “Him avoiding affection? Not normal.”

Irene’s forehead creases in confusion. Pau had never, not once, refused to show you affection. In fact, he was always seeking it out. “Okay, yeah, weird. What did he say when you tried to talk to him?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “he said that I was ‘reading too much into things’ and that I was, ‘being dramatic’. I’m staring to think—“ Your mouth clamps shut, you couldn’t say that.

Giving you a look, Irene urges you to continue. “Think..?”

“That he’s..” You run your hand over your mouth, “that maybe he’s falling out of love. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but assume, y’know?”

Frowning, Irene nods in understanding. “He loves you, i’m sure of it. He’s just being difficult. Maybe you two should leave early, talk it out?” She pauses, “or I can give him a talking to.”

Your eyes widen, “no! No. Do not talk to him, i’ll figure it out. Just.. need to figure out what to say first.”

“Let’s go back to the party and you contemplate while we stuff our faces, perhaps?”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

When the gathering was over and Pau was driving you back home, you play with the hem of your skirt. “Pau?” You speak quietly, not sparing him a glance.

Pau turns in your direction momentarily, offering you a short, “hm?”

“Can we talk.. please?”

No matter how upset, or annoyed Pau maybe be, he couldn’t resist the pleading tone in your voice. “I guess.” He answers, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Why you’re upset with me. I mean, before our argument. Clearly I did something to hurt you, or maybe you just..” Your voice fades into nothing, scared to speak.

“Just what?” He doesn’t comment on the parts before that, so you know you definitely did something wrong.

You pick at the lace harder, “I know it’s probably me reaching, but, I just thought that maybe you are like—“ You were tripping over words, too embarrassed to speak them out loud. Forcing yourself to come clean, you take a breath, “maybe you were falling out of love.”

The car lurches to a halt, right at a red light. Pau’s head whips in your direction, “what? No! Jesus, baby, no! Not that! I love you, I do.”

His words of reassurance made you feel a sense of relief, but still, your theories about upsetting him were only becoming easier to believe. “I love you too, but, my question still stands. What did I do to upset you, and how do I make it right?”

As Pau begins to drive again, he sighs. “The other day, when we were having dinner with the guys and their girlfriends, why did you lean away from me when I tried to kiss you?”

You did that?

Genuine surprise takes over your face. “Wait, what did I do? Shit, Pau, I didn’t even realize.”

His bottom lip tugs between his teeth as he turns into your driveway. “Are you sure? Because it felt intentional.” His words had bite to them, whether he meant to or not.

“Seriously, I would’ve never done that intentionally. Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn?” You frown, leaning your head back against the headrest and unbuckling while Pau parks.

He nods shamefully, “sorry, I just got upset. I was being a dick when I should have just talked to you about it. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, to annoyed with himself to face you.

“Pau.” You sigh out, “look at me.”

He does just that, meeting your eyes with a pained look. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. You can’t do this again, though.” You give him a warning tone, “and you owe me, big time.”

Nodding, Pau grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “After my next game, we should go on a date. Anywhere you want to go, i’ll take you.”

Tapping your chin, you ponder the idea. “How about a movie night? I want alone time, and you will be watching every movie I chose, got it? Oh, and please bring snacks.”

A smile forms on Pau’s lips, causing one to grown on yours. “Anything you want. Make a list, i’ll stop by the store on the way here.”

Sitting up and gathering your things, you nod. “Will do! Goodnight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you.” Pau leans over, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to !

[shadowsviper]

Hello! Here to say hi! Your post appeared on my scroll and I noticed you have just one, so I figured you might be new around here! Welcome to Tumblr! I hope you find your crowd soon enough! 💖

In the meantime, do you mind telling me something about Jason Todd? I've never been too deep into DC, but I recognize his name. I'd love to hear your headcannons/thoughts about him! 💖

Hi! Thanks for welcoming me :) I've actually been lurking on tumblr for a while before I finally got the confidence to start writing.

Here's a short basic rundown of Jason: Jason Todd is the second person to take the mantle of Robin after Dick Grayson. Batman caught him stealing the wheels off the Batmobile in a dark alleyway one night and took him in. He was more rebellious and he didn't like Batman's moral code. Fans actually voted to kill him off in the series. Jason would be beaten by the Joker with a crowbar and left to die with his mother inside a warehouse with a time bomb. He would later be resurrected by Talia Al Ghul in the Lazarus Pit and took the mantle of Red Hood. He would use guns and violence when it came to crime fighting. When he found out that Batman didn't avenge him in any way, he felt betrayed and let his anger out on Gotham's criminals. He believed that they deserved a worse punishment.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jason Todd Headcannons

He loves to bake, especially cookies. He'll bake other pastries every now and then, but his go to is cookies. It's something he'll never admit to his family, other than Alfred. He'll drop off some to his brothers sometimes with an insulting note; he would say they're poisoned just to mess with Tim

Whenever he has free time, he's in the library. Sometimes he'll be at the public library if he doesn't want to see his family. Other times he'll be in the Manor looking at whatever new books Alfred and Damian bought

It's actually canon that Jason likes to read books like Pride and Prejudice, and The Art of War, among many others

He loves to bother his brothers whenever he can

He loves to swing by GCPD when Dick is working just to mess with him. He might even go as far as faking an emergency just for the emergency to be him wanting to say a quick fuck you

Dick has banned him from coming within a 20-foot radius of GCPD. He also threatened to arrest him if he got close

It doesn't stop Jason. He has yet to be arrested because they technically can't arrest a dead man

He'll mess with Tim at any time. His things will slowly go missing; his mugs, coffee, important papers, you name it.

One time when Tim left his place unattended, Jason moved everything an inch to the left. It drove Tim crazy. More crazy than he already was considering he hadn't slept for the past two days. He'll get Jason back one day

What he does with Damian is a 50/50. Sometimes he'll spar with him for fun. Just a quick training exercise or he's actually trying to kill the demon spawn, who knows. Other times they're both reading silently in the corner of the library.

They won't talk about it after

Definitely broke into Wayne Enterprises way too many times

He had no reason to go in. He just wanted to bother Bruce or Tim. Or both

Definitely both

Has been escorted out multiple times with Bruce watching with his head in his hands

That man is stressed lmao

Definitely picks up Damian from school with white girl music blasting at full volume. The bass is cranked up to the point where you can feel it inside the school

Damian hates it so much because his classmates find Jason pretty cool and they keep trying to talk to him about Jason

Later banned from picking Damian up from school

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part two)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

content warning parental abandonment

» part one

» masterlist

Zach gets you and his daughter box seats for his next home game.

It happens to be on your first day back at work after his family leaves and he jokes that sooner is better than later, not only because his team might get knocked out of the playoffs, but also because Ella could change her mind about wanting to come.

The private space overlooking the stadium is small, only a handful of other people there, as the late afternoon sun shines over the rich green field.

You learned that Zach is a major league soccer player minutes into meeting him. You knew he had an unusual life and a certain level of notoriety as a professional athlete. But seeing the crowds filling the seats below you makes it real to you.

The music and the announcer’s voice boom through the stadium, fireworks going off as players rush the field. All this craziness doesn’t match the man you know. Zach is kind and humble and beneath his silly sense of humor, he has a gentleness to him that you’d never expect from someone whose last name is sprawled over fans’ jerseys, who’s getting cheered for so loudly that it’s deafening.

Ella excitedly claps when her father appears on the stadium screen, his face hard as he jogs under the bright lights. You gaze ahead in awe, unable to believe that this is the world he lives in when he’s not at the house, running around with his daughter, thanking you for everything you do.

After the game ends in a draw, you take Ella home in time for dinner. As you drive, wipers cleaning away the drizzle that just started to fall, she excitedly rambles about the experience from the backseat. You smile to yourself, glad that she enjoyed herself and proud that you’re the reason she went.

As usual, Ella slips out of her chair with a mouthful of food when she hears the front door open halfway into dinner. You watch her dart out of the dining room, listening to the huff Zach lets out every time his daughter roughly launches herself into his arms.

“That was so cool!” you overhear.

“Really?” he says. “You didn’t get bored?”

“Um, it was kind of too long,” she says, “but I had pictures to color.”

“Appreciate your honesty,” Zach replies with a laugh.

They round the corner to enter the dining room and when Zach’s eyes land on you, your heart does a somersault.

“Hey,” he says to you, nervous.

“Hi,” you reply. “Thanks for the fancy seats.”

“They were alright?”

“Good enough for two princesses,” you tease.

“Princess ballerinas,” Ella corrects you as she sits down again.

“Right,” you say. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that we’re princess ballerinas now.”

Zach mirrors your smile, loving the feeling of sharing a moment like this with you. You stand to clean your plate and it reminds him of what his mother said a couple of nights ago. That you look at him the same way he looks at you.

He hopes that it’s true, because he can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s a little embarrassed that you saw him in a match. He’s always loved soccer, but he never liked how much attention is on him as a major league player.

“Maybe you should wait out the rain,” Zach says to you. “It started coming down hard on my drive home.”

“Good idea,” you say, happy to spend more time with him.

The rest of dinner consists of Ella happily chattering with you and Zach. As she clears her plate, Zach’s phone buzzes on the table top. His lips purse in worry at the notification, and then he shows you the severe thunderstorm warning message on his screen.

“That looks bad,” you say. “How long is it supposed to go on for?”

“It says into the early morning,” Zach answers. “Do you want to crash here?”

“I’m sure I could make it home,” you say. “I’ll just drive slowly.”

Zach’s lips part, and then he closes his mouth, simply nodding.

“What?” you chuckle. His eyes dart away.

“Just worried about you,” he admits. You huff an endeared laugh.

“Fine. I’ll sleep here,” you decide.

He sighs a breath of relief and says, “Thanks.”

Zach takes Ella to bed and you settle on the couch, glad you already have everything you’ll need in your overnight bag in the guest room. You eventually hear his footsteps coming down the stairs over the sounds of the television and the rain hammering down on the roof.

He sits on the other end of the couch next to you, so far that a person could easily sit between you. It’s typical Zach, never getting too close to you. The only time he’s ever touched you is when he shook your hand before your interview half a year ago.

“She fell asleep while I was explaining what offside means,” he says with an adorably puzzled expression. “Trying not to be offended.”

“I can’t believe she’s actually interested in soccer,” you say.

“Ouch.” Zach puts his hand over his heart. “Okay, I’m offended now.”

“I mean because you said she never cared before,” you laugh.

“I asked her so many times if she’d want to come to a game,” he huffs. “But you suggest it once and she’s immediately in. She always listens to you.”

“Not when I’m trying to convince her to leave the park,” you say. He chuckles. “Can you believe she’s starting kindergarten soon?”

Admittedly, Zach’s concerned about it. In less than a month, Ella will be going to school and he never was one to have much anxiety before he became a father, but all he does now is worry. He doesn’t want any teachers or kids to be harsh with his little girl. She’s already been through enough.

“She’ll be okay,” you say.

“What?”

“You have that worried look on your face,” you tell him. “She’ll love school. I’m sure of it.”

“You can read me pretty well,” he says, smiling. You shrug timidly, thinking back to how quickly he’d noticed something was bothering you on the night of Ella’s birthday.

“What?” he asks.

“It goes both ways,” you admit. “You saw right through me after the party.”

Zach’s jaw tightens, the playfulness between you replaced by a fragile air. He takes a breath before speaking. He knows he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Do you feel better about what she said?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. Now that you’ve had some time to process, you’re okay. “How about you?”

“Well,” he begins, nerves tightening in his stomach, “it wasn’t easy to hear. Ella shouldn’t have to wish she had a different mom. Jade should be here for her.”

He’s never said her name. He’s never looked like this before, his eyes avoiding yours, hand trembling a bit as he scratches his jaw. You can tell this is hard for him to talk about. But he’s choosing to do it with you.

“You said ex-wife that night, but she was never my wife,” Zach admits.

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know I haven’t told you much. When we talked that night, it reminded me of just how much you don’t know about it. I just… I hope you know that you’re… you’re so much more than Ella’s nanny. You’re our friend. And you’re obviously a mother figure to her. And it feels weird that you don’t know what happened.”

His words sink into you, every syllable having an effect on your heartbeat.

“What happened?”

“Ella was a surprise,” he tells you. “Jade and I were dating in our senior year of college when we found out she was pregnant. And then I got drafted into the league and we graduated and everything was happening so fast, but we were happy and… I stayed happy and she didn’t.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, looking at him as his eyes stay trained off of yours.

“We broke up a few months after Ella was born. But we were both sure we could handle co-parenting. She stayed at home while I worked. I could see she didn’t like it, though. She wasn’t a bad mother or anything. She just wasn’t very… affectionate with Ella.”

Your chest tightens. It’s painful to imagine Ella wanting love and not getting it.

“I don’t know. I thought she’d eventually feel how I feel about being a parent. I tried everything,” Zach says, remembering how he’d encouraged Jade to go to therapy or take time away or work while they hired help. It was like she was stuck in her unhappiness. “But then she left and… that was it.”

He finally looks at you and the tenderness in your eyes gives him a breath of fresh air. It’s what you do. Just by being you, you give him the push to stay hopeful that he and his daughter will be okay.

“We weren’t in a good place when you came. But you made things so much better,” he says. “You do an amazing job taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”

Your eyes light up, the smile on your face gentle.

“Thank you for saying that,” you say. “And thank you for telling me the full story. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Zach sighs now that the weight of reliving it is gone.

“I really do love her. I meant it when I said it.” At this point, you’re sure you love him, too, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. “And I feel lucky to get to watch her grow up. This doesn’t even feel like a job to me anymore.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t want the pay?” he says. You find relief in his joke, tossing your head back with a laugh. “Seriously, though, let me know if you need me to keep things the same while you’re part-time during the school year. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, are you offering to pay me for hours I’m not even working?” you chuckle. “Zach, no. I’m good. I have other things lined up. But thank you.”

“What? Everyone knows you should always accept free money.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say. “How do you even have the energy to joke around right now? I just watched you run around for ninety minutes.”

Like always, Zach blushes when you bring up his job. He’s intense and focused on the pitch, but he’s different when he’s at ease at home.

“There’s a break in the middle,” he replies.

“I stand corrected,” you say. “So, how’d you get into soccer?”

Your conversation quickly and easily drifts into topics you hadn’t explored before, the storm raging outside as you learn more about him and he learns more about you. He’s still on the other end of the couch, but soon, his arm is resting against the back of it, his hand inches away from you as you sink into the soft cushions, beaming at each other as you talk.

You don’t want to stop, but eventually you can’t stifle your yawn, prompting Zach to check his watch.

“Jeez,” he says. “Ella went down three hours ago.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up. “That flew by.”

Zach knew that the more he learned about you, the more of a goner he’d be. It feels like he just went on the best date of his life and all he did was sit on his couch and talk.

There’s something between you and he hopes that it’s not just his infatuation misguiding him.

────୨ৎ────

You were right. He had nothing to worry about. Ella’s more than happy at school. It’s only a week into the year and she’s already naming all her new friends when Zach picks her up Friday afternoon.

Her first dance recital is tonight and he’s looking forward to seeing you and his family there. Ella had even mentioned that her other grandparents could come. They were elated to get the invitation.

And of course, when he arrives at the studio that evening, you’re already there, reliable and steady like you always are. You greet him and his family warmly and introduce yourself to Jade’s parents.

It feels wrong to hear you refer to yourself as Ella’s nanny. You’ve been in his life for eight months now and you’ve nestled your way into his soul so deeply that he knows you’ll stay with him forever.

He’s been grappling with this since he first realized he had feelings for you; this bothersome sense of wrong. He can’t pursue you. Technically, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like it, he is your boss. He pays you to take care of his child. If things went sideways, it could push you to leave.

Although he’s never felt this much love for a woman in his life, it’d be selfish. He can’t do it to Ella. He didn’t even want to date other women when Jade was still around simply because it could confuse his daughter.

But you’re different.

His thoughts are interrupted when you look at him, pulling him out of his haze.

“I saved us seats,” you tell him.

Zach’s sitting between you and his father when the recital starts. Eventually, Ella drifts across the middle of the floor between the other dancers.

“This is the part she’s nervous about,” you whisper to him, recalling how she’d told you that this part in the choreography makes her trip sometimes.

You watch her hop sideways, focused as the music grows faster. You’re so on edge that you don’t realize your hand slips into Zach’s, squeezing nervously. She lands her last skip and rejoins the group. You let out a sigh of relief. Then, you look down, seeing your fingers wrapped around Zach’s.

“Sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off as you pull your hand back. “I think I’m taking a five-year-old’s dance recital a little too seriously.”

Zach can only offer a tight smile. His team’s inching closer to advancing to the championship semi-finals and the pressure has never been heavier, but even that hasn’t affected him like the tension he’s feeling right now. His whole body is on fire from your touch, and it won’t go away.

When the recital comes to an end, Zach leans closer to you to murmur over the applause surrounding you.

“You going out to dinner with us?” he asks.

“Do I have to?” you quip.

“What, you got a date or something?” He worries that the joke was too much. Too flirty.

But you laugh and say, “I haven’t had a date or something in forever. Yeah, I’ll come.” Although it’s hard to believe that a woman like you is single, he’s glad you are.

The eight of you sit in the busy restaurant, making conversation. As Zach expected, Ella insisted she sit next to you. You have endless patience for her, listening to her talk, answering her questions, letting her pick off your plate. He would move mountains for his child. He can tell you’d do the same.

Zach picks up the bill and you all say your goodbyes to Jade’s parents, who insisted they didn’t need to stay the night. Before you head out, you tell his family it was nice to see them again. He can tell you’re a little surprised when his mother pulls you in for a hug, but you kindly return it.

Connie obviously appreciates everything you’ve done for her son and granddaughter. Zach tries not to daydream too much, but he likes imagining being your boyfriend and telling you that his mom called that you’d become something one day.

When you say bye to Zach, your gazes meet like you’ve been waiting for a private moment for ages. Things changed on the night you stayed over. You went from friends to a gray area of something more, neither of you acting on it but knowing it’s there.

Only an hour after Ella falls asleep, Zach’s parents and sister turn in for the night, tired from their drive in. Zach is too wired, silently sitting in his living room, his tea not having its usual effect of soothing him.

He goes through his camera roll, wishing he could go for a drive to relax, but not wanting to leave his daughter in case she needs him. He stares at a photo his mother took of you and him and Ella earlier tonight after the recital, Ella’s hair frizzy from all the jumping around she did.

His smile is wide and so is yours and you look like more than just someone he hired to help take care of his daughter. You look like a family.

He opens your conversation and sends you the photo. It’s nearing 10 p.m. and he’s not sure if you’re already asleep, but you respond a minute later: Aw I love this. Thanks :) How’s your night going?

Zach responds: Good… but everyone’s asleep and I’m still wide awake. Yours?

You reply: Is your tea not working?

He smiles to himself and texts back: Not this time.

You text: I’m kind of wired, too.

How come?

Not sure.

He replies with a joke: Could be Ella’s fault. I saw her eat a lot of your dinner. It’s probably hunger keeping you awake.

Once again, his mind drifts to the way your palm felt against the back of his hand tonight. Then, he hears a door open upstairs. In case it’s Ella, he quietly rushes up the stairs to run into his mom, who’s leaving the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he whispers when he startles her. “I thought Ella woke up and I didn’t want her to think I was gone.”

“I’m sure she’ll be deep asleep until the morning,” Connie says. She notices he’s still in the clothes he wore to the recital. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’d go for a drive, but I–”

“If she wakes up, I’m here and if she needs you, I’ll call. Go. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Go for a drive,” his mother insists. “She’s okay. I promise.”

Zach considers it. With work and Ella and you, his mind has been sort of chaotic. A drive, even a short one, will give him some relief.

“Thanks,” he finally says, giving his mom a grateful smile.

The streetlights plunge him in and out of darkness as he drives through town. When he got in the car, the impulse to go see you seemed ridiculous. With every minute that passes, it feels less and less silly.

Zach eventually pulls over and looks at his phone, staring at the text message he sent you ten minutes ago. How could he even ask to come over without coming on too strong or crossing a boundary?

He’s not sure if he believed in signs from the universe before, but when you text him right when he’s considering if he should text you, he takes it as his answer.

Nothing is ever her fault. But now I’m having a midnight snack lol. Are you still awake?

He replies: Yes. Just driving around. Do you want company?

He’s nervous as he waits. But then you send him your address.

Minutes later, you open your door to gentle knocks, heart skipping when you see him. At this point, being apart from Zach is starting to hurt. You lied when you texted him. You know exactly why you’re wired. It’s because he won’t leave your mind.

“Hi,” he says, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Kind of crazy that you’ve been to my house a million times, but I have no idea what your place looks like.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “You need to see it that bad?”

“I think it’s what’s keeping me awake.”

You laugh, stepping back, inviting him in. Zach’s eyes travel over your apartment, taking in every little piece that you’ve put into it. Being here is more intimate than he expected. And then you shut the door behind him, thickening the tension, both of you now sharing complete privacy in a way you never have before.

“Is that an Ella original?” he says, pointing to a drawing stuck on your fridge.

“Yup. That’s me and her and the castle we live in,” you tell him. You lead him into the kitchen as you gaze at the bright crayon marking the paper. “And that’s her horse. She was very adamant about it being her horse. But I can pet it if I ask nicely.”

He laughs and gazes at the drawing, touched that you’d keep something his daughter made up on display. Even when you’re not at the house, you want to be reminded of her.

“Where am I?” he asks in mock offense.

“I’m sure she meant to include you, but the horse took up too much space,” you explain, looking over your shoulder up at him. He’s inches away from you, towering above you. You’re so close to him that you can see the stubble growing over his jaw.

“The tutus are a nice touch,” he says, pointing to the pink skirts drawn on both of you. You laugh and turn to face him all the way. You clear your throat, smitten that he’s really here.

“She was great tonight, huh?” you ask.

“She was.” Zach’s smile is bright, the same way it always is whenever he talks about her. “And she wanted all the grandparents there.”

“I think that’s progress.”

“Me, too.” He exhales. “It was an almost perfect night.”

“Almost?”

“My hand still hurts,” he mumbles, face pinching as he looks down at his hand.

“Listen…” you say with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, okay? I was stressed.” Zach laughs and it takes everything in him not to hug you. “Was it really that bad?”

“So bad,” he teases, flexing his hand. “You’re too reckless.”

“Reckless? Is that what you think of me?”

Zach cocks his head, staring down at you with a look that burns through you, and soberly says, “No. It’s not.”

His gaze drifts over your face, taking you in slowly. You think back to the first time you saw those eyes, sad and distant. Comparing the way he looked that morning to how he’s gazing at you right now is like comparing black and white.

The light atmosphere has quickly been replaced by a somberness hanging over both of you. Your heart is thumping against your chest. Hard.

“What, then?” you ask.

How can he even find the words to describe how you make him feel? You fit perfectly in every way. You settled into his life like there was always a place waiting just for you. Even tonight, when you grabbed his hand for only a moment, it felt like he was born to be touched by you.

You’ve brought light to his life. He always looked forward to coming home to his daughter, and now he looks forward to coming home to you, too. And having to continue to live like this, acting like his heart isn’t completely yours, is torture.

“I think you’re…” Zach’s tone is low, lids dropping as he looks at your lips before he speaks again. “Perfect.”

Your breath catches. You’ve been able to keep yourself away from him for what feels like ages. You’re not sure you’ll have the strength for much longer. This is the moment where everything can change. You know you both feel it.

“Should I not be here?” he says quietly.

It’s his way of making sure you’re okay. That you want him to be here as badly as he wants to be here. That even though maybe this shouldn’t be happening, you have faith that it will only bring you both joy, and you don’t need to consider the risks because you’ll never have to face them.

He looks so painfully unsure that you long to comfort him. Your hand finds his and he laces his warm fingers between yours the instant he feels you. He exhales slowly, never having felt so vulnerable before.

Too much is on the line. He’s only thinking of himself right now. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have–

“Stay,” you whisper. Your simple word untangles the knot in his chest. You step closer to seal the distance that remains between you. His eyes finally drift back up to find yours.

“I can’t help how I feel about you,” Zach murmurs. “I don’t want to mess up how good things are, but I just…”

He trails off into silence, sighing shakily.

“I know,” you say. “Me, too.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says with a note of pity. You breathe a sad chuckle.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you here.”

Zach’s grip on your hand tightens, his heart feeling like it’s just been put together after being fractured for years. His lips part and while he doesn’t know how to say how much your words mean to him, he knows how to show it.

He leans closer, cupping your face, capturing your lips with a soft and impatient kiss. You dissolve into bliss, eyelids fluttering closed as his hot mouth presses against yours, head swimming, body buzzing.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, eyelashes overlapping as you kiss deeply, hungrily tasting each other in adoration. His arms circle around you and surround you in warmth.

He lets out a short, almost silent moan against your lips, relieved and assured and grateful that you want him this badly, too. Everything about this feels right. He’s where he’s supposed to be, standing here, kissing you, baring his soul.

You’re breathless when you eventually pull away, eyes slowly opening as he tilts to plant a lazy kiss on your forehead, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“I kept telling myself that I can’t like you,” he says against your skin. “Do you have any idea how impossible that is?”

You exhale a contented sigh, afraid that you did actually doze off and that this is all just a dream.

“I think I do,” you reply.

Zach’s laugh is breathy, leaning back just enough to look at you. He’s in awe, his lips tender from pressing against yours, his knees weak as he holds your face in his hands. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it or force himself not to stare, he lets himself drown in your eyes.

He brushes his lips against yours again and you smile under the kiss, placing your palm over his hand.

“Is this the hand I hurt?” you tease, gently squeezing.

“Ow,” he playfully winces, making you laugh. You nuzzle your cheek against his palm and smile up at him.

“You sure you like me?” you say. He’s sure he loves you, but it’s too much, too soon to say at this moment. “You know you can’t afford any injuries right now.”

“Worth it,” Zach plays along.

“I keep wanting to ask you about work,” you say. He hasn’t spoken much about playoffs, but you did a little research on his team’s standings. “How has it been? Are you stressed?”

“Pressure’s on, but I’m fine,” he says simply. Your words won’t find you at first. It’s sort of unbelievable how he doesn’t ever flaunt his success, not even a little bit.

“That’s it?” you laugh.

“What?”

“Your team could go to the finals and you’re just fine?” you say.

“How’d you know that?” he says, his heart warming.

“Had to look it up. Not like you’ll tell me,” you quip, pulling away, his hands falling off of you. Zach chuckles, following you into your living room.

“Are we fighting already?” he asks.

“We won’t be if you tell me why you get all cute and shy whenever you talk about your job,” you say, settling on the couch.

He sits to face you, his knee bumping yours. You love that he’s as close as you want him to be, instead of keeping a distance like before. He finds your hands, holding them in his.

“Just a second,” Zach mumbles. “I need to process that you called me cute.”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle against his chest.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. “We talk about my job all the time.”

“Oh, come on. Because we have to. That’s the whole deal.”

“Is it?”

Zach sighs, kissing the top of your head, loving the way your body slightly shakes with your laughter. You sit up again, looking down as you interlace your fingers with his, playing with his hands as you wait for him to speak.

“I love soccer,” he says, “but I never expected I’d be good enough to go pro. And somehow, I did and all the attention that comes with it is just… it’s not me. I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. Never wanted to be.”

You nod. You could tell soon after meeting him that while he’s confident and loves to joke around, he’s not one to demand the spotlight.

“And now the more attention I get,” he continues, “the more people might want to know about me and I’d rather keep Ella safe and give her a normal life.”

He scratches his cheek, uncertainty flashing on his face.

“And… I’m not exactly proud that I’m not working a normal job. I’m always thinking that maybe it’d be better for Ella if I had a nine to five, but the pay is great and I can’t play forever, so I just want to save up as much as I can for her. Then I’ll find something more steady.”

You're sure you’ve never met a person this humble. It’s nice to know what goes on in his head after having wondered for so long.

“Will you still even need a nanny then?” you ask lightheartedly. Zach purses his lips as he nods.

“I will if she’s you.” You smile as he pulls you in, holding you as your cheek rests against his shoulder.

“I don’t think there’s anything that you shouldn’t be proud of,” you tell him. “You’re an amazing father.”

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear you say that,” he admits. The worries that he’s being selfish have been gnawing at him for a long time. He’s always concerned he’s making the wrong choices for his daughter.

“I think it every time I see you with her. I know you said she was a surprise, but you treat her like being her dad is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Zach leans to kiss your forehead over and over again, palm gently pressed on your cheek, like he’s making up for all the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. You start to giggle under all the kisses, hugging him tighter.

“Speaking of,” you say, “I’m sure you’re thinking it, too, but we should keep acting like we’re just friends when we’re around our boss.”

He breathes a chuckle, nodding as he looks down at you lovingly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow. She’ll be so happy when we tell her.”

“You think so?” you say, your heart blooming from the certainty in his words, from the way he unabashedly intends on being with you and telling his daughter.

“She’s always asking me if I like you.” Truthfully, Ella asks if he loves you, but again, he doesn’t want to use that word until he’s sure you’re comfortable with it.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She actually asks if I like you yet. It’s like she knows it’s inevitable.”

You realize that the way you’re wrapped up in each other does feel like it was always inevitable. You know that your heart would never have been able to resist him. You’re glad he feels the same way about you.

────୨ৎ────

A week after the night in your apartment is the semi-final. You’re sitting in the living room playing with Ella with the game on in the background. She’s partly interested, whereas you can’t ignore the ball of nerves sitting deep in your stomach.

Zach’s been opening up more about his job when you get time alone, admitting that the pressure can give him tunnel-vision sometimes. You’ve taken on the workload as much as you can so that he’s not too stressed.

You’ve kept things the same when you’re around Ella and you’ve already determined that if she asks why you’re so invested in what’s on tv, you’ll simply say you grew an interest in soccer after the home game you both attended. But she’s too busy playing with clay to care.

The first half ends with no goals scored. You set up an afternoon snack for Ella, letting her help, your mind elsewhere as you imagine Zach in the locker room, wondering what his coach is telling him and what he’s thinking about at this moment.

Five minutes after half-time, the opponents score. Your heart sinks. Twenty minutes later, Zach scores. You have to stifle how loudly you want to cheer.

Then, the game goes to penalty shoot-outs. Zach had told you how much he hates when a game comes down to that. It’s a nail-biting few minutes, but Zach’s team wins, securing their spot in the finals. In his next game, his team could take the cup.

Right before dinner, you and Ella change into the jerseys you’d secretly bought a few days ago. Zach already told you that even if his team wants to celebrate a win together, he’d prefer to see you two, so you know he’s coming straight home.

He steps through the front door to see you in his team’s jerseys, rushing to give him a hug. Your arms are around his shoulders while Ella’s are around his hips, both of you excitedly cheering. Zach’s heart has never felt so full.

“So, I take it you watched it?” he mumbles into your hair, reveling in the familiar aroma of your shampoo. It takes everything in you not to kiss him when you pull back.

“You did amazing,” you tell him.

“Daddy, do cats ever come to your games?” Ella asks.

Zach looks at you, puzzled.

“There was a commercial with clips of animals crashing soccer games,” you explain, laughing. “It’s a valid question.”

“I haven’t seen any,” he tells her, kneeling to meet her eyeline. “But I hope we get one so I can tell you all about it.”

“Could we keep it?” she asks.

“If a cat comes onto our field and it doesn’t have an owner, sure, we can keep it,” he says. She jumps excitedly, then runs off to play. Zach stands up again, grinning at you.

“Don’t let her watch any more matches,” he says. “If a cat shows up, I’m done for.” You laugh, crossing your arms simply to keep yourself from touching him.

“Congratulations,” you say. “I know you don’t like the attention, but you deserve it.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at your jersey. “It looks great on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to show him the back. It’s his last name and number. He almost can’t believe this is really happening, that he met someone like you who cares about him this much.

“Better on you, I think,” you say.

“Impossible.”

You face him and he gazes at your lips in the way you know means he wants to kiss you. In the few private moments you’ve had since you confessed your feelings for each other, you’ve shared warm hugs and sweet kisses. You can’t wait until you don’t have to hide your love for him anymore.

“Dinner in twenty,” you tell him. “I bet you worked up an appetite.”

Zach’s legs are heavy as he trudges up the stairs, partly from fatigue, but mostly because the last thing his body wants to do is be away from you.

────୨ৎ────

Zach’s family drives in to watch the championship game at the house. You weren’t all that nervous around them before, but now that you and Zach are privately dating, you’re eager to impress them.

He had mentioned to you that he hadn’t told them about you yet, but he’s hoping to the next time he sees them. He also told you how his mom had a suspicion about you two, which makes you hope you’re not too obvious.

It’s only been a couple of weeks since you decided to date, but every moment you get alone with Zach isn’t long enough. You knew he was kind-hearted, but now that he’s not holding back, he showers you with affection and compliments, reminding you of how much he appreciates you every day.

Just like it is with Zach, it’s easy with his family. You talk and snack and take turns playing with Ella while you watch the game. The game starts off as promising, but unfortunately, the final ends with a loss for his team.

“He did tell me they were kind of the underdogs,” you say to his family sadly, watching the screen. “I still think it’s great that he got this far.”

The stadium he’s playing in is hours away and he won’t be getting home until after midnight. You spend the rest of the evening with Zach’s family, wishing you could see him and give him a comforting hug.

When Zach gets to the locker room, dejected and disappointed, he checks his phone to see a text from you. I know it’s not how you wanted the season to end, but you played an amazing game. We’re all so proud of you, no matter what.

It’s ten minutes past midnight when you hear the front door open. You’ve been sitting in the kitchen, staying awake on your phone after everyone turned in for the night. You turn on the kettle you already filled with water and find Zach in the dim hallway, meeting his eyes with sympathy.

“You’re here,” he mumbles in surprise. You only close the distance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly.

“Wanted to see you,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had better days,” he admits, kissing your neck. “This feels good, though.”

“I’m making you some tea if you want it,” you tell him, “but if you’d rather go to bed, I get it.”

“Tea sounds good.” He pulls back, stroking your cheek. “You’re really proud of me? Even though I’m a total loser?”

You half-chuckle, nudging him.

“Never call yourself that again,” you say.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll stop ‘accidentally’ making too much food,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.

You settle in the kitchen, reminded of the first time you sat together like this all those months ago to plan Ella’s birthday party. Now she’s halfway to six years old, growing faster than you could have ever anticipated.

After you put the steaming mug of tea in front of him, Zach puts his hand over yours, squeezing.

“I tried to be positive but I saw it coming,” he admits to you. “They were the stronger team. We’ll just train harder and hopefully get them next year.”

“And I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you say. “Just don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? You’re not a loser.”

“Baby…” Zach breathes a chuckle. “Being with you makes me feel like I’m always winning. It sucks to get this far and to put so much work in just to lose, but knowing you and Ella are waiting for me at home… That's what my life is really about.”

You stare at him, awestruck, heart beating so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say, but I’ve loved you for a long time.”

You bite your lip, giving into the urge to lean closer and kiss him. When you pull back, palm resting on his cheek, you smile.

“I love you, too,” you say. “It’s not too soon.”

“Phew. I was more nervous about telling you than I was about the game,” he says. You laugh, pinching his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you whisper.

“I can’t help it,” he quips. “I didn’t forget how you said you haven’t been on a date in forever. What do you think about tomorrow night? Ella will stay with my family and you and I can go out for dinner.”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. You chat a little longer before you head home.

When Zach tells his mother he’s taking you out for dinner the next morning, she’s overjoyed to hear that you’re an item now and throws in a few ‘I told you so’s. When the evening rolls around, he tells Ella he’s running some errands and instead drives to pick you up from your place.

Sitting across from you at a restaurant on a real date feels like a dream. He holds your hand on the table and nudges your knee with his every so often, unable to keep his hands off of you like usual. It’s like talking with a best friend, the conversation flowing so naturally that he refuses to believe he’s only known you for just shy of a year.

When he drives you home after dinner, you lose track of time kissing him goodnight.

────୨ৎ────

You and Zach had discussed that today would be the day. Now that you’ve been together for over eight months, he’s ready to tell Ella.

It’s a Saturday and Zach’s making lunch while you and Ella set the table. Long gone are the days of spending just a few minutes together, one of you arriving at the house while the other one gets ready to leave. The three of you are almost always a unit now, settled into a routine.

After lunch, you leave as planned so he can talk to her one-on-one. Zach finds Ella drawing on her bedroom floor after he says his goodbyes to you and knocks on her door.

“What are you drawing?” he asks.

She holds up the paper, three figures under the shining sun. When he asks if that’s you, him, and her, she happily nods.

Zach settles on the floor, watching the way she colors in the yellow sun, her legs kicking in the air. He’s seen a change in his child. There’s no doubt about it.

While she was always a happy kid, she’s grown to be much more expressive and affectionate since you stepped into their lives. You bring out the best in her. The best in him, too.

He tries to force down the tears that come up every time he looks at his daughter and thinks about what happened a year ago. She’s too small to have to know the pain of abandonment and betrayal. He pushes away the thought.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Zach says, clearing his throat.

“Do you want another bracelet?” she says.

Zach smirks, looking down at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that she made for him a few days ago. She made you a matching one that you always wear, too.

“Yeah, if you’re not too busy,” he says. “But that’s not it.”

He says it exactly as he rehearsed, telling her how happy you make him and asking if she’s okay with you being his girlfriend. When she grins up at him and asks if that means that you can move in with them, he chuckles, tears pricking his eyes.

Zach always felt like he needed to make up for the love Ella’s mother wasn’t giving her. Now, there’s nothing to make up for, nothing missing. He wishes the circumstances had been different, but he knows he’s lucky that he met you.

He was sure soon after he got to know you that his daughter would grow to love you. Deep down, he was sure that he would grow to love you, too.

────୨ৎ────

It’s past nine p.m. when Zach gets home from training. Now that he’s in the midst of playoffs again, he doesn’t get as much time at home anymore, but he takes it in stride.

When he can’t find you on the main floor, he tiptoes upstairs in case you’ve fallen asleep putting Ella to bed. Sure enough, she’s snuggled up next to you, both of you snoozing.

It’s been a month since he told her about your relationship and somehow, she’s grown to love you even more now that she knows you love her dad. Zach wonders if Ella can see how much happier he is these days. He tried to hide how empty he felt before, but maybe she caught on.

He’d rather not know. He’s rather not think about the past at all, really. Because right now, as he gazes into his daughter’s bedroom to see you hugging each other in your sleep, he knows he’s looking at his future.

(the end)

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[sulumuns-dootah]

Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nepenthes rajah

I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant

Bc that's exactly what the plant does

It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again

This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel

I mean, he literally eats angels whole

(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)

       ༺☆༻

Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula

At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...

But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis

Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me

Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something

From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though

They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...

Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)

       ༺☆༻

Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron

At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain

And this plant baby delivers

I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories

For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters

Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....

As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing

(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)

       ༺☆༻

Hypoestes

I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online

From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family

Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water

And oh boy, the amount of water...

The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping

Just like him being constantly tired

But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death

It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it

       ༺☆༻

Common Ivy - Hedera Helix

Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy

The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything

It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President

I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for

Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature

Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower

[throughparisallthroughrome]

give you my lovin

pairing: modern!anakin x reader

warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting

word count: 2.3k

description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?

A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.

You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.

You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.

The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.

Positive.

“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.

“Anakin, come on-“

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”

“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“

“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”

“Anakin, I know, but-“

“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“

“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.

“Anakin, I’m so sorry, I-“

He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.

“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.

When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.

“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.

You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.

“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He’s in love with me.”

“Y/N-“

“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.

—————————-

“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.

“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.

“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”

“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“

“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“

“That’s because he’s my best friend!”

“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”

“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.

“Y/N, I love you-“

“Not you too.”

“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”

“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”

“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.

“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

—————————-

Positive.

Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.

“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.

“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.

“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“

“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”

The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.

“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.

Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!

You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.

Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.

His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.

“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.

You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.

There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.

You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.

He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.

“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”

“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.

“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”

“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.

“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”

“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”

“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“

“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.

“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”

As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.

“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.

“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.

When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.

“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.

“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.

“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.

“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.

“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.

“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.

“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.

“Yeah.”

————————

[lolitastories]

🪷WEDDING🪷

“Mija, you can go on ahead to the club” I raise my head to watch my parents dressed up for something other than the country club. “We will meet you for dinner” My mother nods to my fathers words, sending a smile over to me.

“Remember to talk with Francine about the party” They didn’t wait for an answer, already halfway out the door. Ever since I could remember we barely spent time as a family. It was rare to get them at dinner so I knew that they weren’t going to be back for dinner. They remembered birthdays and holidays but other than that, nothing. They were there for some school events but I stopped letting them know about the few last ones my senior year because I felt like I was begging for attention.

“¡Bye Hon!” My dad screamed as the car backed up in the driveway. I closed the door and turned to get my purse.

“You need me to tell Jerry to get the other car ready?” I look over, shaking my head.

“No, thank you Ruby. I will drive myself today” She gives a gentle nod before walking away. As I get into the car I think of not even going but then I turn it one and I think I could skip the country club for today and maybe go to the beach? Then Francine comes to mind and I lose all hope of having a nice day by the waves. Once Francine sees me at the club she will make sure I stay there and I have to see her because she is part of a wedding I am helping plan. Francine is an old friend of my parents, like a second mother and since she has no kids she bestowed that onto me. I make my way to the club and before getting out of the car I take a deep breath and walk in.

“Miss, so glad to see you, how are your parents?” I jumped, hearing the enthusiastic voice from the club's host.

“They are doing great”

“That's amazing to hear, well enjoy your evening” He smiles quickly before running off to his next victims that were just walking in.

“Alone again?” I closed my eyes trying to calm my beating heart down again. People need to stop doing that.

“I feel like I should be reciting Shakespeare right now?” My head moved up seeing Rafe lean over the balcony. Light salmon pink shirt with a fresh buzz cut and the never missing gold ring. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” I lift my hand mocking chivalry. Rafe chuckles, shaking his head.

“So that makes me Juliet?” I shrug my shoulders

“Fuck that, there is no shame in a woman senerating a man” He stand up straight and with a smile, he looks down.

“Well continue my lady,”

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;” Why was I giving it my all? I laugh inside at my stupidity right now. “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

“You always had a way with words” He smiled leaning back to his original pose.

“Yes,” Our heads turn to see Francine walking over to me with an unamused look. “Words she decides to keep hidden,” I smile respectfully, giving her a hug. “Hello Rafe,” I held an amused grin on my face. She was literally throwing daggers at him. We knew she didn’t like him, can you blame her? Rafe has a reputation.

“Francine-” She didn’t wait for him to finish before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the club’s entrance and onto the garden.

“I thought you two were no longer friends”

“We are not,” I said rapidly, I lied quickly on my feet.

“I hope not, he's not a good boy for you my love,” Another smile, what I wanted to say was, “I know what i'm doing. I am too smart to fall for Rafe Cameron but if I did, I will take the blame” I only nod at her said advice. “Now, how about we talk about the wedding?” For a good hour I was following her along the country club and making notes on what exactly she wanted for the wedding. More flowers, clear chairs,mirrored floor, a release of butterflies, and no color other than sky blue and white of course.

“What were you thinking about the ceremony?” She lets out a quick squeal before rushing towards the cliff which was only a small hill with some height overlooking the beach. I walked quickly to see what she was pointing at with such a huge smile.

“We agreed on the beach,” I hear a contempt sigh leave her lips. Her shoulders fall and her eyes soften at the vision of the bride getting married there. “Can’t you see yourself there too?” Too focused on her happiness and excitement, her question caught me off guard. I look down again but quickly shake my head. “You have planned such beautiful weddings, where do you see yours?”

“I can’t set my mind on one,” I chuckled nervously. It wasn’t the whole truth but it wasn’t a lie. Of course I know what I have wanted for my future wedding since I was 6, but as a wedding planner there was one thing I hated the most about planning and it was the grooms. All they did was walk behind the bride, nodding and smiling. Agreeing on everything. I want to think it's to make them happy because a wedding was made out to be more for the bride but hearing the groom speak they let out subtle comments about no caring. I want my future husband to care. I want him to be present in what is the beginning of our future. I want him to be the bridezilla along with me.

“Well don’t settle for only this view” She pointed out. “You can have a destination wedding like somewhere in Italy.” Her eyes grow bigger, “Or the south of France!” She jumps giggling at her ideas. “I am going to go look at venues now, you know how easily they can book up!” There was really no use in saying it was too early to think about my wedding because nothing can change that woman's mind when she gets this excited about something.

“I need a drink-” I closed up my book and was ready to leave when I heard a voice from the shore.

“I got an extra beer” My gaze meets Rafe holding a beer up. “Is it too trashy for you my lady?” My eyes stay glued to him and a small smile appears on my face. “I don’t know any Shakespeare if that's what you want to hear” His arm slowly falls to his side. I look over to the country club and catch a glimpse through the window only to catch Francine rushing out of her office.

“Not trashy Cameron” I smile as I take a seat on the hill. “But I don’t drink beer,” I carefully push myself off and balance myself to walk down the steep hill until I am standing in front of Rafe.

“Worth a shot” He shrugs, putting the beer in his pocket. “I know you don’t drink at all.” I shake my head noticing he only had one beer in sight.

“Honey?!” Our heads turn toward the top of the hill to find no one there but the scream of my name becoming louder and louder. Francine can wait another day

“How about you offer me an escape?” With a glimmer in his eyes he grabs my hand and rush's us down the shore. I take a glimpse unsure of the object but as we move closer I start to laugh. “You bring this everywhere just in case?” My breath is shaky, I am not used to running. I look back seeing the figure of Francine screaming out to me but I choose to turn back to Rafe.

“Who knows when a lady needs my saving,” He puts out his hand for me to take and I oblige. He helps me up to a small row boat and I take a seat on the furthest end.

“Need help?” Rafe shakes his head pushing us offshore and he rushes to get in. “Daddy wouldn’t let you use his yacht?” I smile. I look over to the horizon, as the sun meets, perfectly creating an orange hue.

“No,” He groans, making me chuckle at his annoyance. “Don’t want to risk leaving it unsupervised since those pogue pulled their little stunt on Toppers”

“You always ruin it with your talk about pogues,” I roll my eyes looking back at him again. His arms stop rowing at his eyebrows furrowed.

“It 's true!. Little dirty pogues who don’t come close to us should be taught a lesson soon and for good” I never associated myself with what he would call somebody a pogue but that's because I don’t see them as such. My life has consisted of following my parents and at school and work I am only surrounded by people who are considered good. I never leave my bubble. But money or no money, people are people. As long as you are a good person, you are rich in my book.

“You know,” I look straight into his eyes. “You always mentioned how little Francine makes you feel, do you realize that's how you try to make them feel?”. His small smile falls into a straight line. “Would you want me to treat you less just because of some stupid status?”

“It's not the same, those pogues!-”

“Are human Rafe,” I let out a sigh knowing this conversation was just like the past. “Human beings who weren’t blessed with opportunities we have. They work day and night. It doesn’t matter what their bank account says if they have a good heart.” I move closer to him. “I know you have a good heart too Rafe.” I move my hand under his chin to pull him closer. “That's why I choose to disobey my parents and Francine once in awhile,”

“We tried this once already” He whispers. A slight smile appears on my face remembering how I like and feel having him this close.

“I still have hope,” His forehead rests on mine and a slow breath leaves him. “It was wrong of me to try to change you,” my thumbs caressing his skin.

“I was acting too proud and stubborn. Everybody saw me as such so it angered me.” He opens his eyes, putting a bit of space between us. “I was willing to try but I didn’t want to disappoint you”

“It wasn’t a choice for you to decide what is right for me. I told you I didn’t care about what anybody said and if it went down in flames, I could handle that.”

“But you don’t deserve-” his words paused as I came closer. My lips on his but only for a longing quick kiss to shut him up.

“You put yourself down when I see you more than worthy. Worth the eyes of people judging. Worth the scolding of my parents and definitely worth the hours of talk Francine is sure to give me” I hear his chuckle along with mine. “Do you think we should try this again?” He nodded eagerly, grabbing my neck and pulling me closer but I was quicker and set my hand between us first. “Rules”

“Fine” He groans, pulling apart. He shakes his head before turning his body towards me. “Date night twice a week,” My head falls back in annoyance. When we first tried having a relationship it was hard to adjust. I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend and Rafe knew this and decided to stick around. Of course, not being my boyfriend, I wasn't allowed to go out past 8. Not to any party or bonfire by the beach. I was also busy with school and starting my job as a planner to make time for him. That was bad on my part and we had a lot of fights because of it. I also didn’t like going out much, more of a homebody.

“Fine, but one at home date” He whispers okay. “No Pogue talk unless necessary” We need to talk about the important things first.

“Got it.” He smiled at that?. “When Francine is present you give me my place,” I roll my eyes.

“She is a strong woman but I promise.” I would defend him when need be and when it's reasonable. “but if I have to throw myself against her you have to promise not to back down when not only Francine stands against you” my parents can be a handful too. I watch as he stands up placing his hand on his chest. I laughed mostly because the boat was rocking unsteadily. “Rafe!” I hold on looking up at him again.

“It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do,” I stood up carefully and was shocked at his words.

“You don’t know Shakespeare but you do Jane Austen?”

“You left a copy of her book behind and I got bored,” I rolled my eyes knowing that wasn’t true. “But back to my confession,” I look back as we try our hardest to stay steady. “I will prove to them that I am willing to be someone they see worthy of you.” I walk closer, placing my arms around his neck.

“The only opinion you need is mine, and I think you are worthy” I whisper as he lowers his head to meet mine.

“I have seen enough!” I turn around shocked but only to see a blurry Francine at shore screaming towards me. “Get back here young lady!” Those were the only clear words heard before Rafe and I went flying into the water. My body resurfaced laughing at the action. I look around finding Rafe swimming towards me.

“Am not ready to face the world yet” I smile hopeful towards him.

“And am not ready to face Francine yet so how about we row away?” I nod turning towards the boat. “You don’t have a curfew?” I groan hearing his laugh from behind me. He pushes me up and I slide into the boat.

“Never got to be a rebel teen, I think I have some headaches to make up for,” I turn to help him climb in.

“Then let's go.” he smiles, taking his place and rowing away. “This is not a good look on my part.” He laughs looking back at Francine. “Will definitely be hearing about this,”

“Such a bad influence,” I grin looking at him. “Guess what?” His eyes sparkled hearing my giddy tone.

“I saved your beer” My grin grows bigger as he laughs. I throw him the can and with ease he catches it.

“That's my girl” his girl.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - JJ's Arrest

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

I'm once again with JJ and his friends, minus John B, and we're all gathered in Pope's family's shop. Pope's dad, Heyward, as JJ called him, but that I found out was actually just Pope's last name, Pope himself, was actually a very nice and welcoming man.

I was helping Pope's dad with something at the counter when he leaned in, speaking lowly, "Listen, kid. I can tell you're a sweet girl but I need to warn you." Heyward started.

"About what?" I asked politely but in a confused manner.

"JJ is trouble." Heyward told me. "Love the kid but he's bad news. You've got your whole life ahead of you and you shouldn't fuck it up by getting involved with his family's shit." Heyward added.

I'm silent for a few moments, "Oh... okay." That is all I say.

Was JJ really that bad? Sure, we've gotten into some type of trouble or did something we weren't supposed to be doing basically every hangout. But, he really was so sweet and I really did like him. I had even more feelings for him now after the kiss at the movie night the other night, so everything was very conflicting for me.

Heyward had gone outside for a moment to take care of something while I stayed inside, tidying up one of the aisles in the front. Pope was still very worried about the encounter at the movie night and honestly, I didn't blame him.

"Don't let them get in your head, bro. There's three of them and two of us. That's some typical Kook shit right there." JJ tells Pope.

"Hell, yeah." Kiara agreed as she worked behind the counter.

"What was your thought process, using your head?" JJ then asked Pope.

"I don't know, man. I just kind of acted off instinct, alright? I was a cornered animal." Pope told him.

"Hey, Pope, someone here to see you." Pope's dad called out as he walked inside the shop again. A cop then walked into the shop and JJ was immediately looking over at Pope, in fact, we all were.

“Evening, officer.” Pope said.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” The cop said and Pope was looking back at JJ. Fuck. What did they do? “Keep your hands on the counter where I can see ‘em.” The cop said as he walked over to Pope.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah- wait. Shoupe, what’d he do?” Heyward asked as Shoupe cuffed Pope up.

“Take a look at the warrant.” Was all Shoupe responded.

“You’re arresting him?” Kiara asked in shock.

I walked over to JJ and watched nervously. Everyone was freaking out as we followed Pope and Shoupe outside of the shop where Shoupe led Pope to his cop car.

“It wasn’t him!” JJ suddenly yelled and everyone looked over at him. “It was me.” He said. JJ started to walk forward, “He tried to talk me out of it, but I was made because he’d just been beaten up.” JJ explained. “I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit. I can’t let you take the blame for somethin’ I did. You’ve got too much to lose.” He said.

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked and then, I realized that JJ wasn’t telling the truth. He was doing this for Pope.

“I’m tellin’ the truth. For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth.” JJ countered. “I took his old man’s boat too.” He then added.

“What the hell, JJ.” Heyward said.

“JJ, come on.” Pope said.

“Shut up, Pope! Just shut up.” JJ told him before looking at Shoupe. “He’s a good kid. You know where I’m from.” JJ told the cop.

“Yeah.” The cop agreed.

“This was all me.” JJ said.

“That’s the whole truth?” Shoupe asked Pope.

“Whole truth, swear to God.” JJ said.

Shoupe looked at him, “I know what you think, damn it, I’m asking Pope.”

Pope looked at JJ for a few moments before slightly nodding, “Yeah, that about covers it.”

As Shoupe uncuffed Pope, JJ looked back at me, giving me a slight nod of reassurance. I couldn’t find any words as I just looked at him, watching him get into the back of the cop car before Shoupe drove off, leaving us all standing there, thinking; what the fuck?

[in1-nutshell]

With Ophelia now having an Idw version now can you give Lithia an idw version?

Can't wait to see who's going to be the next Buddy I have to make an IDW/MTMTE version!

Hope you enjoy!

IDW Lithia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

IDW/MTMTE

Meeting Lithia would always be one of Ratchet’s most treasured and surprising moments.

It was normal to see new parents suddenly becoming nervous about how they were going to raise their sparklings.

But it was new to see them THROW their sparkling.

Ratchet is talking with Orion Pax in the waiting room when there was a sudden loud set of pedes coming their way. Pharma was running to them fear and worry clear in his optics Pharma: “Ratchet! Catch her!” Orion sees a small metal object flying straight to them. Ratchet is faster as he jumps up and catches the object. Pax catches him before he can fall on his back. Both mechs are surprised to see a little sparkling in loose wrappings. Two bots hurriedly run out of the clinic. Both bots: “FREEDOM!” Pharma: “Those were the parents!” Orion: “I’ll get them.” Orion goes out the door to follow them, leaving a dumbfounded Ratchet staring confused at the sparkling who was just chirping and reaching for his face. Ratchet: “What just happened…?”

Orion never did find out where the parents went off to.

Ratchet offered to take care of the sparkling for the week until the sparkling unit was back online after the energy outage.

It was more than enough time for Ratchet to get attached to her.

He would never understand how her parents could even think on abandoning such a sweet little sparkling.

It was thanks to a little ‘battery incident’ that would give him the idea of her name.

Lithia, named after the 15 batteries, she tried to eat when he turned his back for 10 SECONDS!

Orion Pax is one of the first bots she meets after Ratchet thinks it’s a good idea to take her outside the normal routine.

The officer chuckled when he saw his friend with the sparkling from the clinic.

He had a feeling his friends soft spark would reach out for her.

Lithia takes an immediate liking to Orion.

Part of Ratchet is thankful that she takes a liking to him.

Ratchet: “Are you sure you can watch her? I know another bot who can gladly—” Orion: “I have it under control Ratchet. You go cover your shift and I will take care of Lithia.” Lithia happily chirps as she starts playing with Pax’s digits. Ratchet sighs. Ratchet: “All right. You two have fun. Goodbye Lithia, watch Uncle Orion.” Orion huffs a bit as Ratchet pats her helm affectionately and leaves. Lithia chirps sadly as the medic leaves. She looks up at Orion. Orion: “Now, let’s go see some other friends.” Later in the gladiator’s quarters… Megatron: “Pax… what is on your helm?” Lithia is on his helm gently playing with his finals, chirping softly. Orion twitches them every so often making her squeal in delight. Orion: “This is Lithia, say hello Lithia.” Lithia chirps happily and waves at the gladiator. Megatron waves a bit at the sparkling.

It is when Lithia is a youngling she meets Drift.

Lithia was reviewing material for her entrance medical exams when Orion brought in a bot who was overdosing on boosters.

Ratchet took most care of the mech, Lithia made sure that the poor thing knew he was safe.

Drift wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating when he saw a youngling grabbing his servo whispering positive mantras in his audial.

As cheesy as some of them where… they helped calm him down so the doctor could do his work quicker.

By the end, Lithia smiles at Drift and gives him an energon goodie and a sticker while waving goodbye.

He was nice to her it was the least she could do.

Loves cleaning Ratchet’s tools.

Ratchet’s spark swells with pride when Lithia came running in telling him that she had passed with flying colors.

Ratchet waits until she is a bit older to tell her what actually happened to her bio parents.

Lithia stares at the ground with slightly wide optics. Ratchet is sitting down next to her. Its silent. Lithia: “…That was… unexpected…” Ratchet: “Yes, I think it was for everyone that day… I understand if you do want to try and contact them, they are your parents after all—” Lithia: “Woah! Woah! Woah! Who says I want to contact them?” Ratchet: “You don’t?” Lithia: “No! Why would I want to contact some poor excuses of parents who thought it was a good idea to throw their sparkling as a decoy to get out of the clinic.” Lithia huffs in bitterness. Ratchet: “I thought you’d be a bit more… sympathetic to this.” Lithia scoffs. Lithia: “… It’s their loss in the end. They’d probably be terrible parents anyways. Plus, I already have the greatest parent on Cyberton!” Lithia wraps her arms around Ratchet. Ratchet grumbles a bit at the sudden hug but pulls her in for a side hug. Relief slowly washing over him. Ratchet: “I wouldn’t say greatest…” Lithia: “Shh! You are!”

Ends up joining Ratchet and Orion to meet with Senator Shockwave, Chromedome and the Outliers.

She is just happy to be there.

Some of the bots are surprised to see such a sweet youngling have a grump of a parent like Ratchet.

It was in her final years of med school when the war started.

Goes with the Autobot faction as soon as Ratchet joins.

Ends up achieving Doctor status on accident after her squad’s doctor was shot by a stary blast making her the team doctor.

Lithia ended up getting everyone out of there.

She is referred to by doctor status even if she did not ‘officially’ pass the exams.

But it was not like there were many available during the war.

Lithia is trying to fix a random bots servo. Lithia: “Okay if you just place your servo here, we can get started.” The bot keeps their servo to their side. Random bot: “I thought the doctors did this part?” Lithia: “While I am not 100% certified on paper, I can assure you I am as much of a doctor as Ratchet and Pharma are.” Lithia gently reaches for the bots servo. SMACK! Lithia slowly reached for her face where the bot had slapped her. Random bot: “I only see REAL doctors. Not some useless nurse pretending—” SLAM! Lithia slams her servo on the worktable silencing the bot. Lithia smiles again, but her optics hold a barely controlled fury. Lithia: “Now you listen here… we do not have the luxury right now of having a full staff at the ready. If you need a reminder why, please take a right outside the room, another two lefts where you’ll see the battlefield currently at our doorstep!” Lithia huffs a bit as her servo curls around a wrench while looking at the bot dead in the optic. Lithia: “So, I’m going to give you two options. The first option is easy, you apologize for slapping me and I fix your servo up so you can be on your way out the door. Or you choose the second option where you try and slap me again, I don’t fix you, you have a wrench lodge deep in your tailpipe while most of the medical team and some of the higher officers come to see why a soldier physical harmed a doctor, who was just doing her job.” She is slightly satisfied seeing the bot slightly tremble. Lithia: “So… option one or option two?” Ratchet walks over. Ratchet: “Is there a problem here?” Random bot: “Finally! An actual doctor! This crazy nurse was threatened me!” Lithia’s grip on the wrench tightens as her optics narrow. Lithia: “I think you missed the part where you insulted my skills as a doctor and slapped me.” Ratchet’s optic twitched as he slowly looks at the random bot. The same fury that was in Lithia’s optics was burning brighter in his. Ratchet: “They did what!?” Every bot within a 10-mile radius feels Ratchet’s anger. After hours… Lithia is on the med slab letting Ratchet look at the are where she had been slapped. Lithia: “As much as I appreciate you coming in, I had it handled.” She goes to touch the region, but her servo was swatted by Ratchet’s. Ratchet: “Don’t touch it.” Lithia smiles a bit as Ratchet continued with his work.

After that incident Prowl, Ratchet and Ultra Magnus made sure that her record showed that Lithia was a certified doctor.

Tries her absolute best to keep a positive outlook on things and smile for the patients.

Someone had to during these times of war.

Many nights Ratchet finds her going back to his room, just wanting to be by his side and stay there.

He knows the feeling and gives her a side hug.

Its during one mission Lithia was separated from the group and cornered with an injured Wrecker.

No weapons, no way to communicate with the others, just a heavy med kit and a blaster low on cartilage.

Lithia was determined to make sure her patient made it out alive.

Lithia is cornered with her patient in a dead end. The shadow of the Con starts coming closer. She could see the glistening of the blaster in his servo. Stands protectively over the unconscious Wrecker. Lithia: “If you’re going to shoot do it but leave the Wrecker alone.” The Con looks strangely familiar. He looks at her with a hint of curiosity. A minute passes before the Con lowers his blaster. Lithia could almost feel her spark give out. He turns to leave. Lithia: “Thank you…” Deadlock: “Deadlock. Get out of here kid. The war is no place for heroes.”

Lithia manages to find a better hiding spot until the heat dead down.

Eventually she was found by Bumblebee and Hot Rod.

Ratchet is so relief that Lithia is back safe.

Eventually the young doctor would meet the bot again, of course under the new name Drift.

Timeskip to the Lost Light boarding…

Lithia had made up her mind to stay on Cybertron to help rebuild it.

Bumblebee and Prowl were going to need all the servos they could to rebuild a new Cybertron.

It was tough to say goodbye to her father, but they both agreed this was going to benefit them both.

Even if it hurt…

She remembered gripping on Bumblebee and screaming seeing the Lost Light explode.

Lithia was a hollow shell for a while, mourning for her friends and father.

She eventually got better with time.

Rebuilding Cybertron was certainly a challenge, even with help by her friends.

Even starting to make a life for herself.

One example was becoming Amica Endura with Bumblebee.

As much as she had her suspicions on Starscream becoming the leader of Cybertron, Lithia had to admit that he was the best leader the planet had in a long time.

The death of Bumblebee tore her apart feeling and hearing the news.

Lithia would forever be thankful for Optimus coming back and helping her through the loss.

Optimus is sitting in a communications room with Skyfire. Lithia enters looking a bit tired. Lithia: “You needed to see me?” Skyfire smiles at her. Skyfire: “There is someone who wants to speak to you.” Lithia raises an optic, a bit confused but walks over the console. Lithia: “Hello?” Ratchet: “Lithia?” Lithia gasps as her servo goes straight to her mouth. Lithia: “Dad?” Ratchet: “Finally this thing is working. Yes, Lithia, I’m right here. How are you?” Lithia: “You’re… you’re alive!?” Ratchet: “Yes? Last time I checked I was?” THUD! Lithia had passed out. Ratchet: “Lithia? Lithia are you there?” Optimus: “Ratchet we are going to call you back later.” Ratchet: “Why?” Optimus: “…She may have passed out…” Ratchet: “What? Why? This isn’t new?” Optimus: “Apparently no one told her that the crew was alive, including you.” Ratchet: “… Oh just those bots wait until I get there…”

[melis-writes]

The Other Woman [Michael Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 6 – Star-crossed.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 5 / Chapter Masterlist / Fanfic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

"They’re the Corleones. Their name, reputation, image? Yeah, they make that shine at those galas, and they do it well—let me tell you that.” / “This is my gala, my hotel. It belongs to me, and now… so do you.”

Invited to your first, formal social outing with the Corleones, you travel to Las Vegas with the family--meeting Fredo, Deanna and experiencing the luxuries of one of the many resort-casinos the Corleones own. It's at the banquet that you come across unwanted guests, somehow tied to the Corleone family and very much your own that bring a terrifying revelation to you, now questioning how the Corleone family you know could have criminal ties. Under Michael's protection and reassurance, you find that to not be your only surprise for tonight, claimed by your darkest fantasy, Michael's neediness and his demand to have you all to himself tonight behind his family's back for the first time.

[WARNINGS]: Loss of virginity, oral sex, vaginal sex, heavy touching/fondling, cheating/affairs.

[CHAPTER REQUESTS]: Michael getting jealous of Marina / Michael and Marina share an intimate moment gazing into each other's eyes @nomorekerkanymor / Soft Michael putting jewelry on Marina / Michael calling Marina pet names / A man puts moves on Marina before Michael confesses his desires to her and Michael gives Marina a subtle, possessive claiming lecture in his office.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The 6th chapter of The Other Woman is FINALLY here!! 🙂‍↕️😋 After such a long hiatus which was the result of an everchanging, busy life schedule and a lot of writer's block, I promised and I delivered! 44 pages or 18.6k words and the delicious, hot and heavy, scandalous first sex scene to top it all of finally in here to break the ice and that sexual tension I built up between Michael and Marina for so long. 🥵 Beyond thrilled to share this chapter with you guys as things are definitely changing in The Other Woman and going to get even more dramatic and smut filled!

Hired by the Corleone family as a governess, you relocate to the Lake Tahoe family compound, looking forward to your future in Nevada until you meet your employer—Michael Corleone. Your future is then ensnared only in lust and forbidden love for Michael since the beginning, and you find yourself yearning for a married man you can never have. Desire and passion clash with one another as Michael takes you to be his mistress—only having an exclusive sexual relationship with you while his sex life with Kay dies out. Knowing from the beginning you’ll never truly be with Michael and that your place in his life is worlds apart from Kay’s as the other woman, the love you have for him consumes you until it threatens to burn out everything you’ve ever had with Michael.

Lake Tahoe Compound.

Standing just shy of the morning sunlight shining through the bedroom window, Michael Corleone’s eyes are fixated out on the compound as his fingers work to tie a silk, black tie; having changed into his Diupiani grey, silk suit after breakfast with everyone in the courtyard of his and Kay’s estate.

The remainder of this Friday morning will be dedicated to everyone preparing for the gala in Las Vegas tonight until the return to Lake Tahoe on Saturday afternoon.

Michael has no particular feelings about the gala; only that he anticipates nothing but business and the opportunity against his will to see many of his business colleagues get intoxicated and handsy with cocktail waitresses as Michael and Tom run their numbers and strictly remain on topics of work and business.

The gala is nothing but another obligation to Michael, and as one of the most influential men in Nevada, he has very few excuses to make for an absence.

Michael knows he might be more or less inclined to enjoy the evening so long as you and Kay do, but your presence there alone will keep things interesting enough for Michael. Perhaps seeing you—someone not obligated to bore themselves to death with fluffy, wealth-induced talks at galas—but there to enjoy the luxuries the evening has to offer will impact Michael’s perspective.

Nonetheless, the Corleone family—let alone Michael himself—has much to be proud of at the gala, as it’s been hosted in the very casino resort that used to belong to Moe Greene. Used to.

It remains the first casino resort Michael directly invested and sought ownership over and has been under Corleone control for seven years, thriving and flourishing as one of the biggest sources of revenue from hospitality to the Corleone family.

You’ve yet to truly see all the wealth and influence the Corleone family maintains, but it benefits you by giving you peace of mind as you know they aren’t blatant criminals like the mafia families you’ve previously worked for.

Part of Michael’s only true entertainment tonight at the gala may just be watching how your eyes light up when you enter the casino resort. Michael will have impressed you immensely just by that already and without even lifting his finger—something you’ll come to understand Michael Corleone does very often.

Just as you’ll be in Michael’s presence and line of sight at the gala tonight, you’re in his view now. Michael gazes at you from his bedroom window; his curtains pulled back just enough to gaze outside but guard his privacy and hide that his eyes are now fixated only on you.

Michael’s compound bodyguards and some buttonmen gather by the gazebo not far from you, smoking cigarettes over quiet conversation. Tom is over by the docks, teaching his son Frank how to play fetch with their dog, and yet from all the action occurring from his line of view, you’re all that Michael gazes upon.

You’re by the Corleone estate’s front lawn with little Mary, carrying a wicker basket filled with a variety of wilted or crushed flowers—caused by Tom’s dog by accident. You agreed to help Mary collect them to clean up the garden after breakfast, happily tagging along together with a basket almost filled to the brim with old flowers.

“Almost full,” you chuckle, giving the basket a little shake.

“Do you think we could keep them?” Mary peeks at you, smiling innocently at the basket of flowers in your hand. “We don’t have to throw them away, right?”

“No, of course not,” you reply with a smile, extending out the basket to Mary for a better look. “We can still keep them.”

“Hmm,” a frown crosses over Mary’s lips as she looks inside the basket to see the crushed petals mixing in with other wilted flowers.

“We can still make do,” you offer, “have you ever made jewelry with dried flower petals?”

“You can do that?” Mary’s eyes light up with sudden excitement, causing you to laugh.

“If we have all the tools we need, we can both do it together,” you nod at her, “lots to do with these pretty flowers, even if they’re wilted or crushed. See—” you gently scoop up some of the flowers with your hand, rubbing your thumb over the dried out petals. “They’re not so bad. We can even press them between books or make crafts with them—no worries at all.”

“Wow,” Mary giggles, giving a little excited jump. “Okay! I have more—”

Before Mary can continue, you both hear Esther’s voice calling out from the other end of the Corleone estate. “Mary! Your mother would like to see you!”

“Oh!” Mary turns around to the sound of Esther’s voice before glancing back at you.

“Go on,” you beckon, smiling warmly at her. “Gala today, maybe it’s packing time?”

“I think so,” Mary lets out a quiet giggle. “Okay, I’ll be back soon, Miss Marina! We need to keep those flowers safe!”

“I definitely will, you can trust me!” You wave her off, holding the basket close to your chest.

Nodding, Mary happily skips off back towards the other end of the estate, leaving you alone in Michael’s line of vision.

Observing your interaction with his daughter, Michael’s eyes now trail down your body from head to toe; focused on your lavender shirtwaist dress and black Mary-Jane shoes.

He watches as you take a half-crushed red rose from your flower basket and take in the scent of the flower still lingering and strong.

You glance up momentarily to see Tom’s dog sprinting at full speed after Frank—laughter erupting from over by the docs as you run your fingers through the damaged petals of the rose.

The softness of the petals strikes a brief thought eagerly wandering into your mind from last night’s session with yourself as to the thought of Michael’s hands running over your skin instead; treating you as delicately as you treat the petals—admiring you.

You picture Michael gently tilting your chin to face him, tracing the shape of your lips with his finger before caressing your cheek.

Michael’s free hand would run down from your collarbone to your hardened nipple before he’d rub it between his thumb, watching your eyes for a reaction and listening to a soft whimper exhale from you.

Still caressing over your jawline, Michael would lower his hand down to your inner thighs, scouring them and feeling your soft, warm skin against his hand.

You know Michael would much rather have you alone in his office; your one thigh propped up over his shoulder and his fingers toying with your wet slit more than anything else.

Michael hears Kay’s footsteps beginning to approach the bedroom but he doesn’t divert his attention off of you until he hears Kay’s voice speaking to him.

“The children are almost ready to go,” Kay exhales, seemingly out of breath but in a rather cheerful mood.

Michael tightens his tie, nodding and turning around to face his wife. “How do you feel?” He slowly begins to approach her from behind as Kay sets an empty piece of luggage on the corner of their bed.

“Almost exhausted, almost.” Kay lets out a deep breath as Michael embraces her from behind.

“Almost,” Michael repeats.

“Mm,” Kay begins to blush at her husband’s touch, placing her hands over the top of Michael’s on her little baby bump. “But still excited more than anything. How on earth did you convince Connie to come along with us?” She glances over her shoulder back at Michael.

“You’d have a harder time convincing Mama more than Connie now,” Michael replies.

“Oh, true,” Kay lets out a soft laugh as Michael pecks a kiss over her cheek.

“Looking forward to it?” He asks.

“I definitely am,” Kay beams back, “and Marina’s coming along too. It’ll be something new for everyone and especially for her to look forward to.”

“Mhmm,” Michael’s eyes find the window again, noticing you beginning to walk off back to your lodgings and out of his sight.

“And speaking of,” Kay pushes a curtain of her hair behind her ear. “It was really sweet of you to invite Marina to the gala with us.”

Michael doesn’t reply back, only giving the side of Kay’s neck a gentle kiss before pulling away.

“I think she’ll slowly start getting used to them,” Kay continues.

This implies to Michael that Kay expects you to accompany the rest of the family to every social gathering and gala that you can possibly come to going forward, and Michael thinks the exact same thing.

“She might even have fun,” Kay chuckles, beginning to open up her luggage. “That poor girl.”

Michael furrows his brows, not on par with Kay’s comment.

“She’s not helpless,” he comments, moving towards his night table to grab his glass of water. “She simply isn’t used to it.”

“You’re right,” Kay nods, rethinking her words. “And you think so?”

Michael nods back, raising his water glass to his lips. “You can take tonight to get to know her better as well.

“You’re right about that,” Kay turns to face her husband, watching Michael take a long sip of his water. “We’ll see.”

 Stepping back into the estate lodgings you share with Esther, you let out a soft breath and take in the peace and quiet from inside, knowing of course Esther is all too busy running around to get the children ready for the gala before she can come in and get herself ready to go too.

Having always been a proactive packer, you already have all your belongings and everything together in your luggage and start packing from the moment you were told you’d be joining the Corleones at the gala.

You’ve been adding more or taking out things as you need, but now all that’s left is to haul your luggage back outside to let Michael’s men take care of putting it in the trunk of a secure car with the rest of everyone else’s belongings.

Heading upstairs to your bedroom, you grab your suitcase placed in the corner of your room and carefully move it from leaning against the wall; using the handle to avoid the bulky heaviness as you begin to take it out into the hallway.

Just before you leave your bedroom, you take a final glance back and towards your closet door that remains ajar; more than halfway filled now with dresses, blouses, skirts, and undergarments. It wasn’t like that when you first moved into the Lake Tahoe compound and brings a sense of ease and deep appreciation for your living situation now.

Before, you must have owned about ten outfits in total with three pairs of shoes, but the paycheques the Corleone family writes for you have been nothing less than generous, and you’ve gained the financial freedom for the first time in your life to be able to buy yourself something nice without worrying about making ends meet or being racked with guilt for spoiling yourself.

‘Something to get used to,’ you smile to yourself before continuing to head downstairs to the front door. ‘All of this…’

Getting used to things also means getting used to galas and the most lavish social gatherings you know a family as prestigious and influential as the Corleones would get invited to, but you don’t know for sure if you are or aren’t an enthusiast or social butterfly if you’ve never attended one before.

For your sake, you hope that you open up more to these events and learn from them—truly be a part of the Corleone family, coming off inconspicuous as nobody would truly know the real reason why you’d want to accompany them all the time.

“Miss Alighieri,” you hear a familiar, male voice as soon as you step out of your residence’s door with your luggage in hand.

Almost startled and caught off guard, you pinpoint the voice to be one of Michael’s men—peeking up in surprise.

You look up to see Ritchie Nobilio, only remembering his first name not so much through small talk or minor interactions with him yourself but through other men referring to him as such.

You’ve personally seen Ritchie come and go through all parts of the compound as far as your eye can see, and you know he’s responsible for keeping Corleone family employees like you and Esther safe and secure on and around the compound.

“Oh, hi—” You’re surprised to see just how quick but gentle Ritchie snags your luggage out of your hands.

“Don’t trouble yourself with that,” Ritchie flashes you a charming smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile back, adjusting your posture.

“No problem,” gripping your luggage, Ritchie begins to head down the porch with you following behind him. “Almost ready to go?”

“I suppose so,” you glance back at your residence’s shut front door.

“First time?” Ritchie looks at you, waiting for you to catch up with him.

You follow Ritchie side by side at an appropriate distance, continuing to head down to the center of the compound with him.

“Ya know,” Ritchie continues, “with fancy galas and all that.”

“First time,” you nod, “have you ever been to one?”

“Me?” Ritchie chuckles, “Sure being security outside and taking a little peek inside sometimes counts. I don’t think it’s my thing. I like what I do—don’t get me wrong—but that’s a little bit too much. There’s a good reason why though.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow, your curiosity rising. “Why is that?”

“They’re the Corleones,” Ritchie shrugs his shoulder, “their name, reputation, image? Yeah, they make that shine at those galas, and they do it well—let me tell you that.”

As you continue your conversation with Ritchie down to the main estates of the compound, Michael and Kay step out of their estate with Anthony and Mary scuttling by their side.

Michael directs Rocco as to which vehicle will store their luggage, and Kay gently reminds the children to be on their best behavior and use their indoor voices when speaking at the gala and on the way there.

“Keep it secure,” Michael tells Rocco sternly.

“Will do, Don Corleone,” Rocco locks up the back trunk of the Cadillac.

Kay smoothens out her dress, smiling at Michael whose eyes suddenly find you and Ritchie as the two of you begin to approach closer.

Momentarily stunned again, you’re flustered by a powerful urging attraction to Michael and desperately attempt to ignore it and remain polite while listening to what Ritchie has to say.

“If you don’t know how to dance, you’ll learn right quick,” Ritchie lets out a laugh, unaware as to how sternly Michael’s watching the two of you interacting with each other.

“I’m in for a treat then,” you giggle, diverting your attention back to Ritchie.

“You’ll wow them, no worries,” Ritchie gives you a playful wink—only surging a strike of jealousy through Michael.

“Think we’ll head to the airport in half an hour or so?” Kay asks Michael, but neither his gaze nor body language changes.

“Longer,” Michael replies, keeping his eye on you.

“Like this, maybe?” Ritchie spins around with your luggage in hand, showing off a few silly and uncoordinated dance moves that make you burst out in laughter. “Maybe this is all I picked up, but I could do a good waltz maybe!”

“Maybe?” Laughing, you genuinely find Ritchie’s actions before you hilarious.

It’s nice for you to be able to grow comfortable with Michael’s men who are responsible for employee safety and security, seeing them as much more friendly and easygoing than you originally thought.

In the moment, you’re too distracted by Ritchie to glance back at Michael, but he most definitely is not.

“See—like that!” Ritchie gently takes your hand, twirling you around with him.

With the sound of the other vehicles slowly pulling in from outside of the compound and Tom’s children screeching around chasing each other in a game of tag just across, Kay can’t hear nor does she look over in your line of sight with Ritchie like Michael does.

“Longer?” Kay asks Michael, confused.

Michael nods back, staying put but refusing to call out your name or Ritchie’s for the time being; after all, Kay’s standing right next to him.

“I have other matters to attend to before we leave,” Michael continues.

All Michael wants right now is your immediate attention, and he intends to have it one way or another.

“Oh, okay…” Kay blinks, unable to make sense of Michael’s contradiction for the travel time. “What for?”

“Just business, Kay.”

“Yep, yep,” Ritchie grins at you as he begins to pack away your luggage in the next Cadillac. “Now we got all your stuff packed in and you got to see me embarrass myself with my dancing. Pretty solid, isn’t it?”

“Right,” you giggle back, “well, thank you for that.”

“Of course,” Ritchie nods back happily. “I won’t be tagging along this time, but I still hope you, Esther, and the others enjoy yourselves in Las Vegas.”

It’s then that Michael suddenly moves from where he stands with Kay, almost as if he’s going towards his Cadillac but as you look up to the sound of footsteps growing near, your eyes widen to see that it looks like Michael’s moving directly towards you.

Your heart immediately begins to race in your chest—a hot, rosy blush spreading over your cheeks as Michael gets closer to you, but he moves to simply walk by your side instead of approaching you directly.

You gaze back at Michael with uncertainty and expectation as if he’ll speak to you, but you remain reluctant to greet him or say anything—only standing there in a blushing panic.

Michael neither stops to speak with you nor does he completely walk past without a word, but you hear him speak to you in a stern yet calm voice just as he walks by, saying, “See me in my office.”

At a loss for words, you blink and turn around to watch Michael head toward his estate without another word or glance in your direction.

Blushing furiously, you pull a curtain of your hair behind your ear and look around to see everyone preoccupied with packing and speaking with Rocco as to which vehicles will transport who to have witnessed your brief interaction with Michael.

You know you’ll all be heading out soon to the airport and you waste no time walking towards the main estate, believing whatever it is that Michael needs to speak to you about, it must be urgent; perhaps a last-minute talk about what to expect at the gala before you go.

‘Seeing Michael again…’  You obediently follow into the main estate with no hesitation, noting how utterly quiet it’s become except for the grandfather clock in the foyer.

You move towards Michael’s office, only able to hear very faint footsteps coming from inside before it goes completely silent, only reminding you once again just how soundproof it truly is in Michael’s office.

You place your hand over the doorknob of Michael’s office door and gently twist, entering the office quietly and shutting the door behind you right away.

Michael remains across from you in the office, standing in front of his desk by the coffee table—sipping a glass of water.

Michael’s eyes immediately find yours as he lowers his glass of water; expectation rising in his gaze.

“You asked to see me?” Already flustered and embarrassed, you speak out in a soft tone.

Michael says nothing, continuing to stare at you, watching how your rosy cheeks intensify with blush. His eyes flicker to the detailing of your shirtwaist dress over your chest before he meets your eyes again, “have a seat.”

Nodding, you take a seat in the same leather armchair you sat in when you met Michael formally for the first time; all the memories begin to trickle back into your mind again.

You discreetly clench your legs and sit politely, hands clasped on your lap as you watch Michael set his glass of water down on his office table; his Italian silk suit jacket hugging every muscle and shape of his figure with each movement he makes—turning you on more than you want to admit.

“How do you feel?” Michael suddenly asks you, catching you off guard.

You blink, watching as Michael turns to face you—resting both of his hands on the edges of his office table.

You think to yourself the question he just asked must be about how you feel about the gala, not you personally.

Blushing at Michael’s direct gaze and attention over you, you give a small nod. “I’m excited for the gala. A little nervous, but excited and grateful to be attending.”

“Good,” Michael reaches one hand over to the far corner of his office desk—his eyes still over yours—as he reaches for his cigarette pack, taking one cigarette out of it.

You swallow hard, watching Michael’s slim fingers wrap around the cigarette as he pulls it out of the pack. You know you’ve had far too many nights where you’ve fallen asleep after fingering yourself from one orgasm to the next—imagining those same slim fingers pumping in and out of you until your juices flowed down your thighs.

Michael takes his lighter out from his suit’s front breast pocket before speaking further with you. “I trust you find the security at the compound satisfactory.”

“Um, yes.”

Michael raises his cigarette to his lips before pausing, seemingly unimpressed by your answer. “I’m not interviewing you, Marina. I’m only asking.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, watching Michael slip his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “Right, sorry.”

“You seemed much more carefree outside,” Michael lights his cigarette, staring back at you. “Nobilio is treating you kindly?”

“Oh, yes,” you answer, “yes, he is. It’s nice of him. I think he interacts with Esther and—”

“That’s his job,” Michael takes a long first drag out of his cigarette. “He’s known for that.” Michael blows out the smoke of his cigarette away from you, slowly beginning to walk behind your seat.

You freeze, taking in the scent of Michael’s cologne mixing in with the cigarette smoke as Michael places one hand on the back of your seat—mere inches from your shoulder. “But you can see how I find that highly inappropriate, don’t you?”

“On his behalf?” You ask, quietly.

Michael moves his hand back, coming around to sit in the leather armchair directly across from you. “You think it would be inappropriate on your behalf?” He answers your question with another question. “It’s simply inappropriate. It’s not acceptable.”

‘Is he…?’ Stunned, you can’t quite figure out why Michael feels so strongly about your interaction with Ritchie outside, but you do remember how vocal and even silly both you and Ritchie must have been acting out in the middle of the compound and that it might just have come off the wrong way.

You’re in no position at the moment to assume it might just be jealousy on Michael’s behalf.

You nod at Michael slowly with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

Michael’s gaze softens as he takes his cigarette out of his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Marina.” He rises from his seat, beginning to approach you directly.

Your breath hitches as you look up at Michael and force yourself to maintain eye contact despite having your face leveled only a few inches away from his crotch.

“I don’t want to repeat myself,” Michael continues, his tone of voice soft and husky but affirmative in how he lectures you. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“I don’t want you near Nobilio. I don’t want you near any of those men like that,” Michael states. “You are my governess, not their friend and you will remain by my side when I ask you to.”

“I…” Blushing furiously and unable to avoid the feverish tension building between the both of you, you nod back almost too willingly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

‘What?’ Your eyes widen at his response, face flushing scarlet as you’re too shocked to even react to his words but Michael wastes no time in dismissing you, already having turned around and making his way over to the office door.

“Get yourself ready for the gala. We’re leaving now.”

It isn’t the first time nor will it be the last time you’ll exit from Michael’s office with a wet patch growing in your panties and a quiver running down your thighs—begging for Michael’s touch.

What that man does to you is beyond anything you can think of and all your rationality flies out the window in his presence alone.

He just had you here in his office moments ago, subtlety lecturing you as if you were his and his only, and all you did was agree readily. Yes, just like that.

You’ve no desire to be close to or interact personally with Ritchie Nobilio again if that’s what Michael wants, and yet you picked up on the sound in the tone of Michael’s voice and that look in his hazel eyes that were filled with a kind of concern and care—not out of worry for your safety but for something else.

‘To be close to him…’

Stunned and getting more and more aroused, you force yourself back into reality; getting ready to leave with the others as you remain quiet amongst the family.

With everything packed and all vehicles secured, lining up near the gates of the compound, you’re seated in the Cadillac with Esther only, seeing Sandra, her kids, and Mama Corleone in another and Tom, Theresa, and their children in another, leaving Michael, Kay, Mary and Anthony in their vehicle—the most protected.

The rest of Michael’s men and bodyguards drive close, following behind and leading ahead as all of the vehicles exit the compound.

You glance out the back windshield of the car, watching as the compound’s gates close shut; Michael’s men immediately secure the perimeters and keep watch until your vehicles drive away from their line of vision.

You have to admit, it helps not to be around Michael’s immediate presence, but you’re still too disenchanted to take anything else in.

All your mind runs through are thoughts of being next to Michael again; his dark eyes burning into you—calling you “good girl”. Did you just imagine that?

It’s not like you can make small talk with Esther now in the car to get Michael off your mind, seeing how Esther’s peacefully dozed off to catch up on her sleep after chasing the children around all morning.

Like a curse and a blessing at the same time, you have more than enough time to let your lewd thoughts of Michael get to you before you reach his commissioned private jet at the airport.

You take a deep breath and redirect your attention to gazing out of the car window, watching the scenery of Lake Tahoe rush past you.

One way or another, you’re excited to attend this gala even if all you’re doing is teasing yourself with thoughts of Michael. It’s an excuse for you to be by his side like he wants you to, like a good girl.

~

Just as you expected throughout the car ride to the Corleone family’s private jet at the airport, you’re far from the public eye in the airport and near twice as much security; barely catching more than a glance of him as Michael is the first to board his jet.

Rocco speaks to the pilot just by the entrance to the private jet and Al Neri follows the Corleone family close from behind, ensuring Kay, Mary, and Anthony board safely in front of him.

Michael’s buttonmen begin to load the private jet with everyone’s luggage and belongings from the trunks of the Cadillacs—including yours before you’re even aware of it—as you realize you’re standing next to Esther in silence, distracted by everything and everyone around you at this moment.

Esther gives you a small smile, aware of how pleasantly taken back you are from the scenery of Michael’s private jet alone from your wide eyes dazzling from surprise, let alone at the fact you’ve come to realize Michael owns a private jet.

‘Of course he does.’ You blink, noticing Esther gently nudging you.

“Come on, honey,” Esther gestures to you to line up with her to begin to enter the jet.

Snapping back to reality, you smile and nod back at Esther as you follow in behind her quietly.

‘What does Michael Corleone not have?’ You find yourself wondering yet again as you step into the private jet; a much bigger, more luxurious, and spacious layout than you could have imagined it’d be.

Three flight attendants stand before you, smiling and politely welcoming you and Esther on board, but you can already tell just by the way they look at you and their formal body language that they know you’re new and can expect to see you board more often; it’s almost flattering.

“This way, please,” one of the flight attendants gestures to the right as you notice the two-way split; the left side contains a more private, luxurious side you assume is for Michael and Kay.

Following through the right side, you spot Tom, Theresa, and their children seated in their luxurious reclining seats; a lush burgundy carpet underneath them and throughout the private jet, soft air conditioning blowing throughout and curtains to draw back over each seating section for privacy.

“Wow,” you find yourself murmuring under your breath as your eyes find two seats reserved with Esther and your name over a small embossed card.

Esther chuckles at your reaction, taking her seat next to you. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I can never quite get used to it all.”

“I’m right there with you,” you blink, shifting comfortably in your seat.

“Personally,” Esther begins, folding her name card in half, “I don’t think Mr. Corleone would have us travel any other way. Only private.”

“Always?” You do the same with your name card, putting it into your purse.

“Without a doubt,” Esther nods, buckling herself in. “Believe me, I don’t think the Corleones believe in straying away from the lap of luxury.”

You glance down at your seatbelt, remembering how to put it on securely from how Tom showed you during your flight to Nevada.

“That’s what it’s all about,” Esther’s eyes meet with yours as you rest your back against your seat.

You give her a warm smile back, letting the words linger in the back of your mind. ‘That’s what all of this is about…’

~~~

The private jet takes off smoothly no sooner than ten minutes later, leaving you with some thoughtful time to relax and take in the peace and quiet; all the world of a difference from being on a public flight.

It’s another twenty minutes before it’s announced that the private jet has reached an altitude of 30,000 feet; the rest of your hour and thirty-minute flight awaiting to pass as a light meal service begins.

“I’m almost excited for you in a way,” Esther giggles, redirecting your attention from the dining carts the flight attendants begin to push through. “The first time truly experiencing the extent of Corleone hospitality is something else, I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh, gosh,” you feel flustered with the swift, luxury service in front of you within minutes, thanking the flight attendant who begins to pour Esther and you a glass of French champagne and set a porcelain platter of a small selection of desserts. 

“Ooh, thank you so much,” Esther gleefully pulls her plate closer.

“Thank you,” your eyes widen at the colorful little macarons placed on your platter next to a piece of pistachio cannoli and a slice of tiramisu.

“The gala is going to be everything,” Esther whispers to you with heavy emphasis, raising her champagne glass. “How about that?”

“I’ll drink to that then,” you laugh with her, clinking your glass with Esther’s.

“Cheers, honey,” Esther takes a small sip of her champagne.

You and Esther make for soft conversation throughout the flight over champagne and sweets; topics ranging from your interest in education, Esther’s childhood, working with children and everything in between as an hour and a half passes by easily.

There’s no rush to eye for your luggage or rise from your seat when the private jet lands, as it’s smooth and gradual without any rush or gate to reach.

Now more than anything, you want to know and experience exactly all that Esther’s been telling you about when it comes to social gatherings, galas, and celebrations with the Corleones, and something tells you Michael intends to prove the fullest extent of his family’s hospitality to you time and time again.

~~~

Any nerves or uneasiness you had about all of what Las Vegas has to offer you for this gala has gradually eased off of you completely, and all you can do is thank Esther for it and all that she’s told you to expect and the reassurance she’s given you to also relax and enjoy yourself at these kinds of events.

You return the smile Esther gives you as both of you begin to exit the private jet; you can’t help but realize just how close the two of you have already gotten and will continue to get.

You like Esther, you enjoy the conversations you have with her even if it’s small talk and you love how her presence is easygoing and carefree.

Esther’s gentle and patient and there’s no doubt in your mind she’s a phenomenal nanny to the Corleones and has been for many years.

You follow Esther and the others to where Michael’s bodyguards stand by and gesture to several parked, black Cadillacs for the final drive to the gala.

As your eyes dart around to the other vehicles, you swear to yourself for a moment there you can make out Michael’s silhouette in the back seat of one of the vehicles, but Kay and the children are nowhere to be seen.

“When it comes to traveling—” Esther speaks up,  getting into one of the assigned vehicles with you, “if Mr. and Mrs. Corleone wish to bring the children along, I’m always there. Wherever the children are, they’re my first priority. You may think the same, but—” Esther shifts in her seat, clicking on her seatbelt as the vehicle doors shut and you get inside with her. “Your situation is a little different?”

“How so?” You ask, a little flustered.

“You’re a teacher, it’s different,” Esther gives your hand a gentle pat. “Mr. and Mrs. Corleone may want to spend more time with you regularly to understand the progress of their children’s education and behavior. They rarely ask me for much about that, but I don’t think that’ll be the case with you. I think Mrs. Corleone will want to spend a lot of time with you in general.”

“Oh, I see,” you nod back, pushing away the gnawing feeling inside of you that you’d much rather prefer merely standing in Michael’s presence all the time instead of spending one-on-one time with Kay.

‘I shouldn’t be thinking like this in the first place.’ You mentally scold yourself.

“Either way,” Esther interrupts your train of thought, “all is fine, isn’t it? Who would give up the opportunity to travel so often like this? I know I would take more of it if I could.”

All this can possibly mean for you is seeing Michael more, being with Michael more, and spending time with him you wouldn’t get as much or as easily on the Lake Tahoe compound like that—especially alone.

It’s only a brief twenty-minute ride from the airport to the gala and already leaves you mesmerized as you can hardly get your eyes off of the passing, dazzling streets of Las Vegas and everything it has to offer.

You’re only momentarily distracted once it comes to your attention that half of the vehicles take a separate route, leaving the rest of you; a reaction which Esther easily picks up on as you notice Sandra, Tom, and Theresa, and Michael and Kay take an alternative route.

“Security measures, you know?”

“Oh, always?” You glance back at Esther.

“Mostly,” she nods back at you. “It’s almost solely reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Corleone. Only their bodyguard knows what routes they’ll be taking.”

‘Interesting…’

Regardless of the alternative route taken, all of the Corleone family vehicles arrive at the guarded, private entrance of the gala only mere seconds apart from one another.

The front of the Tropigala’s grandiose nature stands out before you as you notice how heavily guarded and gated the VIP entrance is, making it more than apparent it’s only an entrance for the Corleone family alone.

The Tropigala itself is unlike any size building you’ve ever seen before back in New York; simply massive and boasts over thirty acres of space with over 130,000 square feet.

The Tropigala is not merely just a four-star resort but boasts a vast casino as a part of its well-known amenities and with the sun setting on the Vegas horizon, the flashing and flickering lights of the casino and resort shine together—coming at a sparkle from every angle.

The twinkling lights reflect back in your eyes as your vehicles come to a slow halt towards the private entrance, and you can just make out Michael’s vehicle at the front—surrounded by more security coming towards it than anyone else.

As your vehicle parks, the doors are opened for you and Esther by a bodyguard who gives you two a small, polite smile but otherwise remains quiet.

You mumble a soft “thank you” as you step out first, followed by Esther as Michael’s men move to take out the luggage from each vehicle’s trunk next.

You hear familiar giggling ahead only to look up and see Mary gazing up in sheer wonder at the size of the Tropigala, holding Kay’s hand.

Anthony cracks a smile, remaining quiet next to his family and your eyes are far too quick to dart up to Michael who stands next to Kay, adjusting his silk tie and speaking with a few bodyguards near him.

Your view of Michael remains to be only from behind for now, but it’s more than enough for you. Once again, you feel a strike of arousal rush through you—pulling you into a haze of distraction.

It isn’t until Michael begins to turn around moments later that you realize he’s asking, “Where is Marina?”

Blushing furiously at the sound of Michael saying your name, you glance back up at him and notice an immediate look of satisfaction settling in his hazel eyes.

“Come here,” he gestures to you to stand by his side.

Doing what you’re told, your eyes peek at Kay who appears distracted with Anthony and Mary; having kneeled down to their height and calmly explaining to them what rules and behaviors she expects at the gala.

Michael gestures to his bodyguard without taking his eyes off of you; the bodyguard immediately takes your side protectively.

“Miss Aligheri,” the bodyguard speaks to you directly. “Per Mr. Corleone’s request, your room has been changed. I am to escort you inside with the others.”

“Oh?” You glance back at Michael for confirmation but see his attention with his other bodyguards. “Oh, alright.” Stunned, you don’t feel the need to ask the how and whys of a room change at this hour.

The bodyguard remains by your side but turns to face the front of the entrance as the doors begin to slowly open.

Once you, Esther, and the others begin to move in, you notice Michael remaining back for just a few moments longer until you move just slightly past him.

“Don’t leave your room until I tell you to.”

Your eyes snap open in surprise as arousal courses through your muscles; you force yourself to avoid Michael’s gaze and only give him a nod back in response.

‘Oh my God.’

Once you sense Michael’s presence moving further toward the entrance of the Tropigala, you quickly look in his direction.

Just as Michael, the children, and Kay are about to be the first ones to enter the Tropigala, you see the look of glee spread over Kay’s face; her eyes fawning at Michael with excitement.

Upon first entrance, Kay leans up towards Michael on the tips of her toes, gently tilts Michael’s face with one hand, and kisses his lips passionately.

In the split second, you witness the deep kiss between Kay and Michael, a deep strike of jealousy rushes through your chest and intensifies through queasiness in the pit of your stomach.

You immediately turn your head away in response, feeling the tips of your ears and the back of your neck prickle with jealousy.

‘Okay…’ Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you continue to follow the bodyguard into the private lobby of the Tropigala as he escorts you and your luggage to your newly assigned suite.

‘Don’t leave the room until I tell you to…’ Dazed and in a mix of confusion and jealousy, you only take a glance behind you to see other bodyguards leading the rest of the family through different turns down the private lobby and other elevators.

“All on the same floor,” you hear Tom say to Theresa as they enter the same elevator with you and another bodyguard, relieving you.

‘It makes sense,’ you think to yourself, returning the polite smile Tom and Theresa give you.

You can’t spot Michael, Kay, or the children around you but with how your emotions have suddenly spiked up and feel jumbled in your chest, it’s for the best you try not to find them right now.

Three grand elevators fit to carry fifteen people comfortably take everyone up into the private suites of the Tropigala and once you all reach the same floor, you can hear soft chatter coming from the others; lost in conversation about the scheduling of events at the gala or some form of entertainment.

“There’ll be more than enough time to get ready,” you hear Sandra say to Theresa. “I’m not stepping foot downstairs until I have both my hair and makeup done—no chance.”

“Right,” Tom chuckles back. “I trust Theresa with it.”

“Room 20M, miss,” the bodyguard speaks out to you, gesturing down another hallway.

Nodding, you follow the bodyguard down an isolated hallway, realizing that the others have gone down the same corridor on the opposite side of the building.

There isn’t so much as another glance or comment towards your path of direction, and it causes you further confusion as you and the bodyguard near the end of the hallway see only one suite door.

“What is this?” You ask, blinking.

The bodyguard pauses for a moment, glancing at you. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he was unaware nobody had given you any specifics on the room aside from the fact it’s been changed last second.

“This is a presidential suite, miss,” the bodyguard answers. “Mr. Corleone had it arranged for you.”

‘Oh.’  Your heart skips a beat in your chest. ‘Of course…he…did.’

“I trust you will find luxurious and ample space,” the bodyguard continues, approaching the suite door and reaching into his suit pocket for the keys.

“Compared to the others?” You ask, watching the bodyguard begin to unlock the door.

“Second to Mr. and Mrs. Corleone’s.”

The bodyguard twists the doorknob and wedges his foot inside the ajar door before turning to hand you the key.

Taking it from his hands, you peek into the suite as the bodyguard keeps the door held wide for you to enter first as he takes your bags in after you.

For the sake of keeping yourself presentable near the bodyguard, you hold in every reaction you have inside of you towards the inside of what appears to be nothing short of a mansion within; much bigger than the entirety of your family home back in New York.

Marble floors lead throughout the suite with silver and gold renaissance-inspired fixtures complete with a full kitchen, three bedrooms down the hallway, and a master bedroom boasting the size of a living room to your right.

As you enter the suite, you notice the master bedroom’s French doors are both wide open, revealing a king-sized bed with a luxurious, baroque pattern duvet and six pillows propped up.

The glistening evening lights from around the Tropigala and the surrounding Las Vegas area twinkle through the balcony, giving a gorgeous view of the vicinity of the resort.

The décor throughout the suite has a vintage flair of the 1930s with fur rugs over the marble floors and a grand fireplace in both the main living space and the master bedroom.

Just as you turn around towards the door to thank your bodyguard for placing your luggage inside, you notice he’s already gone.

You let out a soft sigh of relief, shutting and locking the door behind you.

Feeling a sense of relaxation finally hit you after the trip, you move past your luggage and begin walking towards the kitchen.

On the countertop remains a large gift basket wrapped in clear plastic, revealing a bottle of white wine, champagne, and other various chocolates, sweets, and chocolate-covered fruits with a small letter affixed to the front of the gift basket reading “Marina” in cursive.

Blushing, you gently take the letter off of the gift basket and run your fingers over your handwritten name in the middle, admiring the neat and smooth cursive letters.

Opening the envelope, you take out a small piece of paper tucked inside that reads:

‘I intend to give you what you deserve and what you’ve wanted.

 I imagine the suite is to your liking.

 Welcome to the family, Marina.

-          Michael Corleone.’

As you hold the letter in your hands, re-reading it over again, you let out a soft gasp to hear the click of the door to your suite opening.

Presuming the bodyguard returned and is checking up on you, you move out of the kitchen and clutch the letter in your hands as you look over by the front door.

‘Michael.’

In an instant, your heart begins to thunder in your chest from attraction and arousal surging through you all at once—caught in utter surprise by his presence.

“Good evening, Marina,” Michael approaches, noticing the letter in your hand. “Are you satisfied with everything?”

You’re so flustered in the heat of the moment that you can barely find the words to speak back out to him, stunned and trying to take in the fact that Michael is with you alone in your suite.

‘Does anyone else know of this? Would I even want to tell?’

“It’s incredible,” you finally breathe out. “It’s more than anything I could have ever imagined, but—”

“But?” Michael interrupts, standing only a mere few inches from you with expectation in his eyes as if there’s a right or wrong answer to this.

“What have I done to deserve this?”  You ask, breathless.

“I don’t want you to ask me that question again,” Michael says, rigidly. “Don’t,” he continues, “ask questions to which you know the answers. You’re smarter than that.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply back obediently, taking yourself by surprise by your own response.

Michael appears content with your reaction. “Your parents raised a very intelligent, respectable, and ambitious woman. One would not have to get to know you very well to understand that, but I see the others you were around provided you nothing. You don’t need to deserve anything with me, Marina. You will simply have them.”

Michael’s eyes wander over the gift basket on the kitchen counter before back at you. “Perhaps you’re not quite fully comfortable with the hospitality and luxuries the Corleone family has to offer because you still believe you need to deserve these things. There is no such thing,” he locks eyes with you. “You won’t be deprived of or limited of anything.”

“I see,” you reply back quietly.

“And yet you’ve seen nothing.”

“Nothing?”  You blink back in shock.

“Come with me,” Michael gestures, beginning to make his way toward the master bedroom.

The idea of entering a private bedroom alone with Michael makes your knees quiver from arousal as you trail after him.

‘Just…. Follow. Don’t think, just follow him like he asked you to.’

From the angle that you saw the master bedroom wide open, you noticed nothing but the size of the bed and the spaciousness that awaited you.

Upon entering the room for the first time with Michael, your eyes fall upon the stunning, satin scarlet gown Michael had picked out for you, neatly laid out on the edge of the bed.

“This is…” You gasp, approaching the edge of the bed. “Absolutely beautiful, it’s…” You lean over and run your hands over the soft fabric before standing upright—completely frozen in a spot as you feel Michael’s chest against your back.

“Stay still, darling,” Michael murmurs, breathing against your neck.

‘Oh, God.’ Doing as he says, you squeeze your eyes shut and feel Michael brush a curtain of your hair aside from one side of your neck to the other, clasping a piece of jewelry to your neck.

It carries some weight, and as you open your eyes to see you notice it dangling in between your breasts; glistening diamonds, adorning your neck. You can already picture how you’ll look with the red gown on you after.

Michael clasps the necklace on you perfectly; his hands gentle, smooth, and soft against your hot, glowing skin.

You know by now you’d be nothing but a fool to assume Michael can’t clearly tell just how aroused you are by how warm your skin has gotten in reaction to his touch.

“There,” Michael says, pulling his hands away. “Your earrings are on your vanity table.”

You slowly turn around, not to move towards the vanity table to get the earrings or look at them, but rather to gaze up at Michael.

Both of you look directly into each other's eyes as you mouth out a breathless, “Thank you.”

Michael returns your thanks with a nod, continuing to gaze into your eyes with silence; no words, and no expectations.

His gaze devours yours, speaking more than words, upon each other the way two lovers would admire one another in silence.

“I want to be the first to see you downstairs at the gala when you arrive,” Michael breaks the silence.

You nod back, unable to speak.

“You’re beautiful,” Michael states, watching as your eyes widen from the compliment; your rosy cheeks flushing again with blush. “And I’m certain I won’t be the only one who thinks so tonight.”

‘I…’

Speechless, you watch as Michael takes a step back, beginning to move towards the doors of the master bedroom.

Every muscle in your body aches and craves for Michael more than ever; you wish so badly to yourself that he wouldn’t have to leave so that you two could just spend a moment longer alone, even though he has to.

‘I miss him already but he’s still here.’

“Take all the time you need,” Michael says, his back facing you. “But I’d rather not wait long.”

~~~

The next twenty minutes pass by like a haze as if you’re in a dream-like state as you begin to get ready for the night at your first gala.

The satin, red gown fits you like a glove; hugging every inch and curve of your body but flattering your skin with the soft, satin fabric.

The dress falls off your shoulders and gives a subtle but sexy peek of cleavage, not to mention drawing much more attention to your collarbones now that there’s a diamond necklace adorning it.

The five-inch black stilettos placed next to the foot of your bed are going to make a ravishing touch to show whenever you take a seat.

You spray a bit of perfume around your collarbones, the back of your neck, writs, and a little over your back as you finish up your look by letting your hair flow freely; slight loose curls finished up with some hair spray and product to hold it in place.

Wearing the matching diamond earrings from Michael, a matching bold, red lipstick, and a small, winged eyeliner with a subtle blended touch of smoky eyeshadow in the corner of your eye with two coats of mascara later, you’re finally ready.

You grab your sequin studded purse and sling it over your shoulder, tucking your suite keys inside before you exit.

Locking the door behind you, you take a peek around the hallway leading to the elevator and can't hear or spot anyone else nearby.

You take the elevator down to the main floor to a private foyer leading into the front banquet hall of the gala.

You can already hear the bustle and cheerful voices of chatter and music coming from the main hall and wonder where you’ll find the Corleones; no doubt at some visibly marked VIP tables.

From the moment you step out of the elevator, you face two sets of spiral staircases that twist around one another and lead up to the suite floors with Michael waiting in between them, gazing directly at you.

It seems Michael was momentarily distracted right up until the elevator doors opened, and a mesmerized look crossed his eyes at the sight of you; his eyes admiring your figure up to the diamonds over your neck and the pout of your lips.

“Miss Alighieri,” Michael greets you as you take a few steps out of the elevator.

“Michael,” you blush, moving forward.

“Come sit down, come sit!” You can faintly hear Kay’s voice coming from the banquet hall, scolding Mary from afar.

Michael ignores his wife’s voice, admiring your beauty before him. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you blush furiously at the second time he’s given you the same compliment in less than an hour.

“Come with me,” Michael gestures to the banquet hall, leading you in alongside him to the main gala area.

Bright lights and several shining chandeliers dangle from high ceilings all above, a live orchestra up front on a gilded stage playing a lively tune with violin and piano while a few couples dance with one another.

Waiters and waitresses buzz to and through each table carrying a tray on each hand, serving champagne and hors d’ouvres.

Hundreds of dollars worth of wine is uncorked and champagne is popped and poured, including a fountain of champagne towards the center of the banquet hall where onlooking guests giddily await their turn for a glass.

As you continue to follow Michael through, you notice the section in which you two walk through is reserved and separated by velvet rope and bodyguards—leading you to the back of the banquet hall which remains quieter but with a perfect view of the entire gala’s events just up ahead.

A mouthwatering scent of smoky meats and stewed vegetables hits you as you see the waiters and waitresses for dinner service begin to move dishes to private tables, leaving a buffet table towards the further sides of the banquet for guests as well.

There’s no lack of options for meals and for the first time in your life, you’re in front of more than three kinds of dishes and refreshments.

The tables at the gala are at an appropriate distance from one another for the sake of navigation and walking space but to reduce eavesdropping and prying eyes, completely reserved and without a single empty seat yet arranged in such an orderly fashion that the banquet hall doesn’t look overcrowded.

Suits and ties, gowns and dresses flow everywhere, mixing into the scents of expensive colognes and perfumes all around.

As you reach the reserved tables for the Corleone family, you notice there’s a total of five grouped around each other and reinforced security inconspicuously making their rounds nearby.

You notice Al Neri and Rocco on opposite sides, watching intently, and assume Michael’s other men must have gone incognito.

“Marina!” Kay’s eyes light up as she peeks up from her seat, sitting next to Connie.

You blush from the sudden attention over you, waving back at Michael but you see Kay’s reaction doesn���t even phase Michael.

“Oh my… Wow,” Kay’s eyes grow wide at the sight of your dress, eyeing you head to toe.

“Hi, Kay,” you smile back.

“Hey, Marina,” Connie gives you a confident smile, sipping her cosmopolitan cocktail. “You look oh so gorgeous, you know that? So beautiful, honey,” she gestures out by extending her hand—all the diamond jewelry and rings over it sparkling underneath the chandelier light, “that red is everything on you.”

“Thank you, ladies,” you beam back, “you all look so gorgeous tonight too.”

“Says you,” Connie winks back as you take a seat at the reserved seat with your name on it, just across from her and Kay.

Your eyes land on Kay’s dress, peeking at the details. Kay wears a midi-length, long-sleeved, lace evergreen dress next to Connie in a stunning, sequined, mermaid gown in a deep marine color.

While Kay keeps her statement piece, and pearl accessories minimal, Connie on the other hand is covered from head to toe in various diamonds—glistening at every angle and despite the flashy look, the only diamonds Kay’s eyes are on are the ones around your own neck.

For a moment, you can see in Kay’s eyes that she’s hyper-focused on your diamond necklace, going from surprise to appearing somewhat mildly glum as you get comfortable in your seat.

Michael takes his seat next to you, keeping both you and Kay by his side as you look over to the table across; Sandra and Mama Corleone smiling and giving you greeting waves.

“Any minute now,” Connie eyes the waitstaff coyly.

“The event hasn’t started yet?” You ask, noticing how distracted Kay becomes while watching her children at the table with the others and Esther remains.

“The evening has hardly started yet, darling, Once we get our menus and refreshments, we can call this a property party,” Connie’s eyes flash to Michael’s momentarily.

“You’ll stay around?” Sandra calls out to you from the other table.

“I believe I will,” you smile back at her politely.

“This is new for you, isn’t it?” Sandra giggle.

“It is—” You begin before Michael cuts you off.

“Marina knows her place,” he states—causing a flare-up of blush over your cheeks.

Sandra nods, the mood of playfulness washing off of her expression from Michael’s response.

“Oh, finally,” Connie scoffs, noticing special waitstaff dressed in full black begin to approach the Corleone family tables who begin to place menus in front of everyone upon the table.

You make split-second eye contact with Michael before you return your attention to the menu with your name embellished on it in front of you, blushing deeply.

The waitstaff serves the French champagne mentioned at the top of the menu in every glass, rotating around the table and as you focus on the sparkling liquid being poured into your cup, you notice you can still feel Michael’s eyes over you.

Your eyes trail down to the menu, beginning to read the listed refreshments first. Alongside the French champagne you begin to drink, there are options of port, sherry, and white Bordeaux.

Appetizers include foie gras cured duck breast and rhubarb, lobster roasted carrots with buttermilk puree, and scallops with charred leek onion broth and pink purslane.

The entrees include Sicilian rabbit finished with a sweet and sour sauce topped with Sicilian sardines, truffle roasted duck, guinea fowl with licorice braised leeks morels and rosemary sous vide lamb.

You can hardly believe your eyes at the numerous options of some of the most luxurious dishes you’ve ever read; half of these kinds of meals you’re completely unfamiliar with but seem like the Corleones eat every single day.

The dessert menu lists a mango cremeux Douglas-fir and yogurt sorbet with white cookie dough, peanut caramelized banana sorbet with banana cake, and dark chocolate with smoked hazelnut praline topped off with salted milk ice cream.

“I’m taking my time with this,” Connie relishes the first sip of her French champagne.

“You’re telling me,” Sandra comments back from her table.

“Everything looks so amazing,” you murmur to yourself, looking around to see how everyone is engrossed in the menu’s contents.

You notice nobody’s eyes are on you and it brings you a small measure of comfort, especially to the Corleone family’s knowledge that you’ve never seen or experienced anything like this before.

This may be completely new to you, but nobody is exactly treating you like you’re a stray dog now adopted and living in the lap of luxury.

It helps alleviate the embarrassment you still slightly feel, especially with all the newfound attention and luxury over you on a daily basis, let alone directly from Michael.

As you glance over to your side, you notice a pause taking a sip from his French champagne as Al Neri approaches him, leaning over to whisper something only audible to Michael in his ear for a mere moment.

Michael neither nods nor reacts, only giving Al Neri an approving look before he begins to rise from his seat.

Despite Michael already getting up, you notice everyone else at the table and the surrounding ones pay no attention to Michael leaving, so you try to do the same.

As Michael walks off with Al Neri towards the midst of the banquet hall, you assume to yourself this is probably the expectation others have placed upon Michael to do nothing but socialize with him and network.

‘How much closer does he want to be with me tonight like this?’

“Long night,” Sandra sighs at her table, almost completely finished with her first glass of French champagne already.

“You don’t have to worry,” Connie says to you as she watches Kay get up from her seat as well to meet with a couple by the champagne fountain gleefully, leaving you alone with Connie and Sandra's company.

“It could have been worse for you,” Connie speaks out to Sandra.

‘I have no idea what that means.’ You stare back at Connie in confusion before noticing the sad look crossing over Sandra’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Sandra shrugs her shoulders. “I miss it.”

“You miss it?” You speak up, suddenly becoming too curious not to be a part of the conversation now.

“Sonny,” Sandra gives you a longing, melancholy smile.

You’ve heard the name before, more so as Santino whom you know to be Sandra’s late husband.

“You should have told Marina,” Connie sips her champagne smugly.

“It hasn’t been easy, you know,” Sandra shoots Connie a glare before turning to face you, the same sadness returning back to the pool in her eyes. “Sonny would have loved these sorts of things—getting involved in meeting new people.”

“A little too much,” Connie comments.

“Right, I know,” Sandra rolls her eyes. “But anyway, it’s true. Eyes everywhere. I felt like I had to police him to behave.”

“He was the party-going type?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Connie chuckles. “You want to see the partygoing type? Talk about charisma and enthusiasm, just look at my brother.”

Connie gestures behind her towards the champagne fountain where you spot Fredo wearing a two-piece beige suit and bowtie, sunglasses on despite being indoors and beaming proudly next to a blonde bombshell next to him who runs her hands through her flirtatiously with a show-winning grin—dressed in a dainty, mini mauve dress that threatens to spill down her chest.

Fredo and the woman next to him speak with four people who seem wildly interested in whatever they’re saying; Fredo enthusiastically cracks jokes, laughs, and talks wildly with his hands.

“That’s my brother, Fredo,” Connie clarifies. “He’ll want to meet you soon.”

“I look forward to it,” you’re stunned, unable to truly make sense of how different all of the Corleone brothers are from one another.

Never would you have guessed someone like Fredo would be the stern and cunning Michael Corleone’s brother of all things.

“I wonder if you would have liked Sonny,” Sandra looks up at you. “You’re a real pretty girl.”

Connie clears her throat loudly, looking around the banquet hall to spot any waitstaff nearby.

“Washroom,” Sandra turns her head away and mumbles to herself to be excused, getting up from her seat just as more waitstaff begin to approach.

‘What’s that supposed to mean? What?’ Thoroughly confused, you sit patiently and quietly in your seat despite all the awkwardness that just ensues throughout that conversation.

Kay and Michael begin to return to their seats as the waitstaff begins to serve the appetizers, all coming back together.

One of the waitstaff pours you three different glasses of wine, all off of the selections on the menu in front of you in six ounces each as the other waitstaff due to each and every one of you at all the Corleone family tables.

Three porcelain plates are set out in front of everyone with a perfectly small portion of each of the appetizers to try.

Once the waitstaff departs, the conversation starts small and soft at the table, mostly about family plans, the trip here, and the Corleone family estate in New York.

Michael rarely comments or speaks up, but notice how intently he listens and the eye contact he makes with whoever is speaking at the table; conversations far removed from what you know and can relate to, but even as you smile and comment, you feel included in the conversations and your comments valued.

At any given moment when you realize Kay’s eyes are not on you or anyone else speaking, you see how blatantly obvious she makes her admiration towards Michael.

‘I’m no better,’ you remind yourself as you attempt to stifle any feelings of rising jealousy.

“Where’s Fredo, by the way?” Tom asks, turning around in his seat and eyeing around the banquet hall.

Michael appears unamused as Mama Corleone chuckles, “You’re looking for him already?”

“Well,” Tom starts out with a laugh, “I wanted to know because Fredo hasn’t met Marina formally yet.”

“That’s fair,” Kay points out, “but I think he’s been chatting it up with some guests for the past hour now.”

“He’ll come around,” Connie comments. “He always does.”

“We have time until dinner is served,” Michael speaks up.

“Besides,” Connie continues, looking over at you as she begins to rise from her seat. “My brother Fredo and his wife Deanna know all about you.”

“Deanna Dunn, the movie star,” Tom clarifies.

You notice out of the corner of your eye that Sandra makes her way back to her seat, doing so quietly so as not to interrupt the ongoing conversation or draw attention to herself.

“Introductions are in order tonight,” Kay gleefully adds, beginning to get up from her seat as she gestures to you. “Come, Marina! We’ll introduce you to Fredo.”

“Kay,” Michael stares at her; his tone smooth and soft but demanding and disapproving all at once.

An expression of sudden hurt crosses Kay’s eyes as Michael begins to stand up. “Allow me.”

“Okay,” Kay says barely audibly, sitting back down in her seat.

All it takes is a further expectant glance from Michael over to you for you to find yourself standing next to him a moment after, accompanying him to meet Fredo.

Kay gives you an awkward smile before turning her attention back over to the banquet hall to spot Fredo and Deanna.

You follow Michael across the banquet hall with Al Neri cautiously accompanying from behind as Michael leads you towards a young man in his 30s, with receding hairline neatly slicked back and combed dark, chestnut brown hair, a mustache and what you first noticed about him that took you by surprise—aviator sunglasses on inside the banquet hall.

Fredo’s dressed in a toned-down yellow, single-breasted blazer jacket over a silky, black dress shirt with his collar worn open to tuck in a knotted, silk paisley scarf.

Dressed much more vibrant than the rest of his brothers, Fredo’s trousers are a checkered beige with gold and black patterns and a pair of white, leather loafers on his feet.

“Yeah! You wouldn’t believe it!” Fredo laughs, speaking to a guest.

You’re pleasantly surprised to come across a Corleone brother so full of life; Fredo showcasing to you before a formal introduction that he’s a man of extreme charisma.

You can tell Fredo has a charming demeanor and a contagious smile; talking with his hands and using vivid language makes him seem like the life of the party in a refreshing way to you, but is also a huge shock to think about the fact that Fredo is Michael’s biological older brother.

Michael’s not as phased as you or the guests who listen to Fredo’s invigorating story, but the woman wrapped around Fredo’s arm certainly is.

‘That must be Deanna.’ Fredo’s wife curls up to his arm with one hand and the other on her hip; a bold smirk over her face as she reaches her free hand up to ruffle her tousled, voluminous hairdo.

Fredo already appears the very opposite of Michael in your eyes despite you never having spoken a word to him.

It’s then and there that as you and Michael approach closely and come to a standstill Fredo’s eyes fall over the two of you and light up in glee; not just to see his brother but at the sight of you—a new face, accompanying him.

“Miiiikey!” Fredo exclaims, practically throwing his wife off of his arm who scowls back at Fredo momentarily but as soon as she catches your gaze over hers, Deanna gives you a fake, polite smile.

Fredo wraps his arms around Michael to bring him in for a hug. You see Michael hesitate for a brief second due to the awkward nature of the hug, but he pats his brother’s back gently after giving him a short hug and pulling away.

“Fredo,” Michael gestures to you. “This is our new governess, Marina Aligheri.”

“Marina Alighieri!” Fredo repeats your name in an upbeat tone, extending out his hand for you to shake. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Fredo Corleone.”

“Nice to meet you too, Fredo,” you beam, shaking his hand back.

“I run all the entertainment when it comes to our family’s hotels and resorts. The social aspect, ya know.”

Michael still appears unphased, watching your interaction with Fredo as if he’s monitoring how your formal introduction to his brother is going.

“Very nice!”

“I look forward to seeing you around,” Fredo gives you a playful wink.

“Likewise.”

“And here—” Fredo spins around to scoop Deanna’s arm around him once more. “Is my beautiful wife Deanna Dunn Corleone!”

Deanna giggles, tousling her hair again and appearing relieved and flattered that she’s finally getting her round of introductions. “Hi darling, how do you do?”

“Nice to meet you, Deanna,” you shake her hand.

“Deanna’s a movie star,” Fredo chuckles, “in all of the newest pictures you can find in Hollywood. She’s working on a new film with Johnny Fontane, you know?”

“Oh?” Your eyes light in surprise at that name, an actor you’re very familiar with on the big screen.

“I’m assuming you know of him?” Michael glances at you.

“Yes, of course,” you giggle back, “he’s very famous back in New York.”

“First his music and now his movies,” Fredo chuckles, “I betcha didn’t know that Johnny was the godchild of my father.”

“It’s true,” Michael nods in confirmation.

“Johnny comes around a lot to our resorts to perform too, him and all his friends in the music and movie business. Especially now that he and Deanna are shooting a picture together, so you’ll get a chance to meet Johnny for yourself too.”

“That does sound exciting. I would love that.”

“We can make it happen,” Michael states before abruptly changing the conversation. “The table is expecting the two of you to join us.”

“Ah, we know, Mikey.” Fredo brushes Michael off, “We’ll get there, no worries, okay?” He pats Michael’s shoulder reassuringly, “Deanna and I just wanna make a few more rounds to say hello and then we’ll all join you and everyone at the table for dinner.”

Michael locks eyes with Fredo expectantly before leading you onward. “Come, Marina.”

“Where to—” You notice Michael gently leads you by his side further throughout the crowd of the banquet and farther away from the Corleone family dining tables.

“Just follow me,” Michael lowers his voice, giving you the queue to remain quiet and do as he says.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you do as Michael says and walk by his side at the same pace quietly.

You keep your eyes towards the midst of the banquet hall all while avoiding making eye contact with any guests or blatantly looking around.

Inconspicuous and simply passing through, you notice how hyper-focused Michael is looking into the crowd; his eyes darting back and forth until they land somewhere amongst the crowd and harden—firm and lacking any emotion.

Michael’s expression turns ice cold in mere moments, striking anxiety within you as a result.

‘What? What is it that he’s looking at?’ You desperately try to find what Michael’s gaze focuses upon amidst the crowd to no avail.

“Marina,” Michael’s eyes fill with concern as he looks back at you.

“Yes?” You breathe out, feeling your heart beginning to pound in your chest.

‘Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.’ The anxiety and tension from this situation alone make your muscles stiffen with fear.

Michael’s voice is cautious but soft as if to soothe you as he speaks. “Look up right in front of you.”

Just as you turn around to do so, your eyes lock on two Italian men in the corner of the banquet hall holding glasses of champagne and speaking quietly to one another around a decorative fountain.

“Are they familiar?” You feel Michael’s breath over your neck from how protectively close he moves over to you.

Your heart sinks into the bottom of your stomach as you stare at the two men; a rush of deep, twisting anxiety coursing through you as you swallow hard.

‘I know who they are.’

You know who you’re looking at, but unable to put names to faces to these buttonmen, the same buttonmen who worked for the Barzini family; the same men that were sent to kill your brothers for the debt they owed that fateful night.

‘Oh…’

Simple assassins, nothing more. Men are hired to do dirty work, have basic skills, and collect debts. Completely business, nothing personal, but two killers that killed a piece of your family nonetheless enjoying themselves at a Corleone-hosted family event.

”Marina,” Michael says your name again, beckoning you back to reality.

As you face Michael once more, your eyes stink with tears as you blink. Nothing but horror and shock register through you.

‘Does it make sense to have mobsters at an event like this? From that family? Why? How does Michael know of any of this?’ A thousand questions buzz through your mind as you find the answers to them all in Michael’s eyes.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Michael squeezes both of your wrists reassuringly.

“I…” You let out a soft, disoriented breath—feeling dazed from the jumble of emotions suffocating you.

“It’s those men, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer back. “But h-how do you know?”

Michael doesn’t answer you, shifting his attention back to the men, but you insist.

“How do you know, Michael?” You touch his arm, pulling Michael’s attention back to you.

“How could I not know?” Michael stares back at you.

When it comes to you, there’s little to nothing Michael doesn’t already know, and for a man like him to know, he must have run a background search on you and your entire family. Would that include the deaths of your brothers by mobsters? Would anyone be able to hide something like that from Michael Corleone?

“You’re certain, aren’t you?” Michael asks.

“Y-yes,” you answer, your voice shaking. “I remember them too well. That’s them.”

“Stay close to me,” Michael murmurs, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you to the opposite side of the crowd.

Dazed and confused but electrified by Michael’s warm touch against your skin, the two of you move back to the Corleone family tables.

With such a protective touch over you, any sense of anxiety melts off your body as Michael ensures nobody bumps into you from the crowd or touches you.

Once the Corleone family tables are back in sight, Michael lets go of you as if nothing happened—expecting you to take your seat back at the table.

“Dinner must go on,” Michael tells you, “but after this, you need to talk to me about—”

“What’s there to say?” You breathe out. “They found their way here, didn’t think?”

“You think they’ll leave here alive?” Michael stares back at you. “Go, Marina. Sit down at the table and worry about dinner and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?”

You feel as if you’re in a trance as you make your way back to the tables, trying to focus on the present with everyone around you—having returned without Michael.

The serving of the main course meal gives you time to get yourself together and distract the others through dinner-related conversation, some stories being told about family travels, and the like around you.

You smile, pay attention, and listen, but don’t have much to say as the continuous feeling of anxiety and fear gnaws inside of you, reminding you through every painful moment that your brothers’ killers are attending this very gala.

Despite the rush of emotions over you, there’s a sense of safety with the Corleones you can’t deny. The ongoing conversations feel natural and like you’re at home and a part of them—not to mention the mouthwatering scents of the main dishes being served, fond culinary dishes from the old country.

The aroma of the Sicilian rabbit being served is heavenly, smothered in a sweet and sour sauce next to the savory truffle roasted duck and richly cooked guinea fowl and braised leeks, dashed with a touch of rosemary.

Paired with the white Bordeaux, you’ve now only begun to realize just how hungry you’ve become with these luxurious dishes placed in front of you.

You savor the taste of the delicious, well-cooked meats on your tongue with the creaminess of the braised leeks down to the tenderness of the roasted duck.

Only a few moments after dinner is served does Michael return to the table and take his seat next to you, already engrossed in the conversation his family is having but only returning one-worded, dry replies and paying more attention to Kay speaking more than anyone else.

‘Relax, just relax,’ you tell yourself, focusing on the meal. You can blame nobody but yourself for how you feel, even though Michael’s still given you a sliver of comfort and protection.

You try not to frown or make your emotions obvious over your expression, but you hyperfocus on your meal consistently throughout dinner until you hear Kay’s voice call out your name.

You look up and smile at Kay politely, but it’s far too late to let the distraction and mellowness in your eyes go unnoticed.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“I’m fine,” you muster up an answer, but you can tell Kay won’t simply accept that and leave it as is. “Just feeling really tired and I’m not sure where it’s coming from.”

There’s no world that exists where you can simply tell Kay your anxiety is getting the better of you right here and right now because your brothers’ murderers are here enjoying the gala too and may just now have been placed on a hit list of some kind by Michael.

‘This is all becoming too much.’

“Oh honey, don’t strain yourself too much,” Kay pouts. “Sometimes the exhaustion of the trip hits you later on, I know how it can feel. It’s a lot to handle—all the noise and the flight,” she lets out a soft sigh. “How’s your dinner?”

“It’s incredible to say the last,” you let out a breathy laugh. “I really don’t want to let it go to waste.”

“And you don’t have to,” she replies. “We can have it brought up to your room fresh and warm, but I’m going to feel awful just sitting here and seeing you in discomfort, waiting on an inevitable headache.”

“Right,” you nod weakly, “I may have to excuse myself, I’m sorry.”

“Oh please don’t ever apologize for that!” Kay shakes her head, “it’s completely alright, Marina. The night is still young, and we have an afterparty too. You should rest up and take care of yourself until then. We can have your meal brought up to you and you can have a bit of peace and quiet away from all this noise.”

“Thank you,” you say in relief, slowly beginning to rise out of your seat.

Michael watches you get up from the corner of his eye, having listened to your conversation with Kay but remains unmoved otherwise.

“Of course,” Kay turns around to gesture a waiter to make their way over, pointing at your plates.

‘There’s nothing but death.’ You avoid looking towards the opposite end of the banquet; the faces of the two buttonmen so clearly engraved in the back of your mind.

‘I can’t be here with them. I just can’t.’ Taking a deep breath, you manage to calm yourself down as you get further away from the bustle and excitement of your gala and back up the elevator to your suite.

The further you get, the more at ease you feel and you know if you can just take a bit to yourself alone, you can manage and still make it down for the afterparty but right now you absolutely don’t want to focus on any part of the banquet and let your anxiety escalate.

‘At least Michael knows. At least he cares, or at least I want him to…’

After stepping out of the elevator, you’re quick to get back into your suite and quietly shut the door behind you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a sigh of relief as you take in the silence within the suite, the light scent of vanilla and lavender air freshener wafting around you, and the promise of a comfortable, luxurious suite room to rest in.

‘I’ll relax for a bit, it’s all I need right now.’ Setting down your clutch and slipping off your heels, you let your feet take in the comfort of walking over the faux fur rug before you begin to unclasp your earrings and take off your necklace.

Heading into the bedroom, you carefully set down your jewelry in the very box Michael gave them to you in upon the vanity table, knowing you’ll put them back on when you head back down for the afterparty.

You turn around to gaze at yourself in the full-body mirror diagonally facing your bed, stepping forward towards it and debating whether you should take off your dress as you run your hands over the satiny fabric.

You smile shyly at yourself, admiring the gorgeous, scarlet fabric and how it makes you feel both comfortable and beautiful, and you aren’t even the one to pick it out for yourself.

‘He picked it out for me.’ Blushing yet again over Michael, you move towards the closet and open it, pulling out a spare hanger from a dozen.

You’re careful to slowly strip out of your dress without stepping on it or wrinkling the fabric, hanging it up in plain sight inside the closet.

Only in your white lacy panties without a bra, do you take your nightgown out of your luggage and slip into it—letting the soft fabric wrap around you snug.

Walking barefoot out towards the kitchen, you glance at the refrigerator and wonder if you could find some wine before the rest of your food service gets here; perhaps something less expensive and luxurious but sweeter as you pass the time in your suite.

Just as you approach the refrigerator and reach out your hand to open it, you freeze. The sound of your hotel room being unlocked rings in your ears and you begin to listen intently.

Your heart skips a beat for just a moment as urgent questions rush through your mind; did one of Michael’s men mistake you for being at the party and are just making rounds to check for security? Does someone else have access to your suite that you don’t know about? Surely the room service would knock instead of intrude like this so suddenly?

Unable to react, your eyes land on the door and all you can notice is that whoever is opening the door is doing so quietly and with care without making a scene; almost too careful and eerie, the way an experienced thief would want to enter.

It’s only Michael Corleone.

Your heart flutters from the sudden but more than welcome surprise as a rush of butterflies swarms in your gut. Your blood rushes to your face, causing your cheeks to blush intensely.

As you see Michael walk in, you grip the handle of the fridge tightly in the reaction without opening it, seeing Michael’s eyes directly on you as if he wants to meet you in the kitchen right here and now.

You don’t even know what to say; frozen on the spot from a rush of emotions hitting you all at once—delight, pleasant surprise, is it so wrong to say? Is it wrong to think maybe this is all you could want?

‘Why here? Why now?’

“I didn’t anticipate you’d retire from the evening so soon,” Michael speaks in a low, velvety voice—enough to make you weak in the knees just like that.

Flustered, you attempt to speak back. “Only to catch my breath. I wouldn’t want to miss the rest of it.”

Michael refuses to take his eyes off of you as he slips his dress shoes off by the door. “So you plan on returning for the evening.”

Suddenly you feel naked before Michael’s eyes as he approaches you, already so vulnerable in nothing but your nightgown and panties.

The tips of your ears burn hot with blush as you find yourself all the more flustered, but you can’t tell if Michael’s noticed or paying attention to how you’re dressed since his eyes are locked with yours.

“I want to,” you say, breathily.

“Are you enjoying yourself here?” Michael stands only a few feet away from you in the kitchen now as you let go of the refrigerator’s handle.

“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” you shake your head.

‘Am I overthinking it all?’

“It’s breathtaking, but it’s all so new. I hope you don’t mistake me for being ungrateful to be here.”

“Not at all,” Michael replies dryly, “but I know why you’re here.”

‘What?’ It’s no secret to Michael from how rosy your cheeks are down to your body language reacting out of an arousal you’re desperate to hide.

You’re not so shy alone with him now; each and every muscle in your body desires Michael and is filled with passion.

The only thing that distracts Michael is how you tense up your shoulders from arousal, causing one strap of your nightgown to slip off of your shoulder.

You glance at the strap that threatens to slip off well past your arm, feeling practically naked before Michael and pulsating with warmth over your body from heightening arousal.

The sexual tension between the two of you standing in front of each other in silence builds to an uncontrollable level inside of you, building a delicious throbbing sensation inside of you.

You don’t know whether to beg Michael to take you on your knees here and now over the kitchen counter or feel embarrassed at what just happened beyond your control.

Michael takes a single step forward towards you and raises his hand towards the strap of your nightgown.

You assume for a split second he’ll only move the strap back up to your shoulder, but you feel the fabric of your panties beginning to cling to clit from the wetness pooling over it.

Michael keeps his eyes on you as he pulls the strap of your nightgown further with one little tug, causing it to slip off your chest almost entirely as your breasts spring free.

An inaudible “oh” escapes your lips as Michael moves his hand back down to your wrist, gently grabbing it and speaking to you in a demanding and firm yet soft voice. “Go to the bedroom, Marina.”

The fiery passion that courses through your entire body in a wave of heat is unexplainable—simply foreign to anything you’ve ever felt towards a man and only just on the physical level.

The arousal pent up inside of you tingles in your stomach, spreading up to your chest. Every inch of your body feels hot to the touch, your eyes solely focused on Michael and Michael only.

You feel as if your heart could burst out of your chest in this very moment, pulled to this man like a moth to a flame with an urge to let everything go—risk it all just to have his body pressed up against yours for a single moment.

It’s a gnawing hunger inside of you to crave Michael, seeing nothing but the idea and fantasy of having him all to yourself even if it could be just for one night.

All of you want all of Michael, completely and utterly insatiable. No other person or feeling could come close to taking you away from what you feel you’re about to have with this man.

Picturing Michael’s firm, big hands over your breasts is enough to send you into a state of ecstasy, let alone how he could pleasure you further and make love to you tonight if he wanted to.

The coolness in the suit brushes up against your exposed skin, hardening your nipples further than they already were from arousal.

“Go on,” Michael’s voice is lowered to a whisper as he gestures towards the bedroom.

Like clockwork, you do as Michael says without hesitation—feeling light on your feet as you make your way over to the bedroom.

You sense and hear Michael following behind at a close distance which makes your knees buckle a little as if they could give in from weakness at any moment now.

Each step you take only crinkles and pulls your nightgown down off of your body further, threatening to spill further down your hips.

When you enter the bedroom and move towards the king-sized bed, you hear Michael shut the bedroom door behind the both of you quietly.

You’re only able to take a few more steps closer to the foot of the bed before Michael grabs your wrist again, gently turning you around to face him.

Blushing furiously and dazed in spot, you watch as Michael raises his hand towards your chest, pausing for a moment.

Michael locks eyes with you as he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, almost pleading for him to.

Michael places his hand over the fabric of your falling nightgown, so close to your breasts; his touch feeling electric and hot to the touch, everything you’ve ever wanted to relish in.

“Michael—”

“Take this off,” Michael beckons to your wrinkled nightgown.

‘He wants me to undress in front of him.’

Nodding shyly, you pull the nightgown down and off of you with ease, letting it slide down your thighs and pool to your feet on the ground.

Michael’s eyes beckon further as he speaks, eyeing your panties. “Strip.”

‘God…’

You slip your fingers into the band of your lace panties, almost trembling with excitement and arousal sparking through you as you pull them down your thighs and off of your ankles.

“Come here,” Michael beckons with his finger, wanting you fully naked up close and all to himself.

As you step towards him, Michael’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer to his body.

The fabric of Michael’s dress shirt rubs against your nipples as he tilts your chin up to face him. “How long have you wanted this?”

Your breath hitches as you attempt to respond, feeling Michael’s hand squeezing your right breast. Your eyes can’t help but watch him do so as Michael rubs your nipple in between his fingers.

“Tell me,” he presses; the look in his eyes a mix of desire and possessiveness.

‘How can I tell him I’ve craved him since I first laid eyes on him?’

Michael already knows well enough. He admires how close you come to telling him the truth, but he wants to pleasure it out of you first.

“You are my governess. I hired you to work for my family,” he speaks, letting both of his hands roam over your breasts gently. “This is my gala, my hotel. It belongs to me, and now… so do you.”

Taking his free hand, Michael traces your bottom lip with his finger slowly. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be mine?”

To belong to Michael Corleone, to be desired in such a way that he possesses you as his… Nothing could excite and thrill you more; than the lure of everything he says.

Here is a man of power and wealth, Michael Corleone. A man who not only likes having control over everything in his life but ensures he does, and for those surrounding him as well. How can you ever be an exception?

“Always,” you answer back—no shame, nothing left to hold back.

You were his before he stepped into this hotel room before you undressed in front of him, and before he touched you.

Like every perfect fantasy you could ever have, it all plays out before you and you refuse to hold back in the heat of the moment.

“You are mine now, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper.

‘I am. I’m yours.’

“Get on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

Nodding shakily out of arousal, you crawl onto the bed on all fours—sitting in the middle of it completely naked.

Shivering, you look up to see Michael approach the bed, beginning to loosen his tie. “I want you on your hands on your knees.”

You do as Michael says, turning over to get your hands on your knees—arching your back, and feeling completely exposed to Michael.

You hear the soft drop of Michael’s tie falling to the floor and his suit jacket being hung over your vanity table’s chair before he kneels on the bed behind you.

“Michael,” you whimper out, feeling him so close to your body.

“Shhhh…” Michael whispers from behind, gripping your hips with both hands.

Your breath hitches as you squeeze your legs together out of arousal; completely naked and exposed for Michael with your ass and pussy in his face as both your hands clutch the duvet.

Michael’s hands are firm and needy but soft, holding onto you with possession as he speaks, “I’ll take good care of you.”

Michael begins to run his hands up and down your lower back slowly, tracing lazy circles.

A shiver goes down your spine as you give a small nod back, squeezing your eyes shut and simply relishing in the moment.

All the more erotic to you as you can’t see what Michael’s doing but Michael’s touch over your supple skin causes a passionate fire to course through you.

Michael’s eyes momentarily flicker down to your pussy as he sees a glistening wetness forming between your lips. Michael begins to move closer, tenderly yet lightly massaging your back.

“I want you to be honest with me, Marina…” Michael slowly pulls his hands back.

“Y-yes?”

Michael unbuckles his belt, tossing it to the floor, and unbuttons his trousers. “Are you a virgin?”

“Yes,” you answer honestly.

A brief silence falls in between the two of you and a sense of nervousness almost hits you off guard as you wonder if this is a good or bad thing on Michael’s behalf, but his next question catches you entirely off guard.

“You still haven’t answered my previous question. How long have you wanted this?” You feel Michael begin to mount you from behind, roaming one hand underneath you and down your chest to squeeze a breast while his other hand spreads your upper inner thigh. “Tell me.”

“I—” You let out a shuddering moan at the sensation of Michael’s thumb beginning to ever so slowly toy over your clit, now parting over your pussy lips and slightly beginning to spread you open.

“Be a good girl and tell me,” Michael leaves a hot, lingering kiss over your right shoulder.

Your legs quiver against Michael’s body as you say, “Forever.”

“Mm…” More than just content by your answer, it confirms everything Michael’s already thought about you.

Michael rubs your ass cheeks, giving them a light slap as he lets his erection spring free from his trousers. “I’m going to be good to you.”

‘Oh God, yes, please. Please…’

Michael suddenly grabs both of your thighs firmly, pinning you down flat on your stomach before gently flipping you on your back to face him.

Pushing away stray strands of your hair away from your face, Michael comes face to face with you, only wearing his half-buttoned, loose white dress shirt—stroking his cock in one hand while his eyes are locked on you.

The sight of seeing how fully erect Michael is before you makes your pussy throb from arousal; none of this is supposed to happen but the two of you have completely given into each other’s lust.

It’s the first time for Michael to feel such a powerful arousal take over him, barely having done anything at all with anybody.

Gazing down at Michael’s tip, you watch as his cock glistens with droplets of precum forming at the tip and beginning to ooze down his cock’s head.

Two veins run down Michael’s thick shaft circumcised and bragging just about eight inches.

Michael watches as you admire his body before you, noticing how the peak of chest hair from his half-unbuttoned shirt stands out to you; how smooth his milky, soft skin looks down to the muscles in his arms tensing from his rolled-up sleeves. Such a close-up of Michael’s toned, slim body…

“Let go and let me,” Michael murmurs, running his hands up and down your thighs.

Painfully aroused more than anything, Michael’s doing nothing but building up your arousal to the brim before he does anything else with you; especially concerned with your comfort and eager to get you as wet as possible first.

“You look incredible, you know that?” Michael begins to slowly spread your thighs open.

You blush furiously, momentarily turning your head away.

“Close your eyes,” he breathes, “and let me feel you.”

Doing as he says, Michael wastes no time in moving down between your thighs and placing your ankles over his shoulders.

Only with ever so slightly open eyes, hazed and dazed from the incoming pleasure do you watch Michael begin to tease and please you.

Michael leaves gentle, wet kisses up from your legs to your upper thighs but the closer he gets to your pussy, the longer he begins to drag out his kisses.

Dangerously close, Michael’s kisses grow heavier before he begins to sloppily suckle over the skin in the crease of your inner thighs.

A shaky moan escapes your lips as Michael truly lowers himself in, parting open your pussy lips with his fingers.

Michael’s slim fingers slick over your wet clit, up and down in tantalizing motions. It takes everything in you not to squirm from the pleasure over Michael’s shoulders, let alone vocalizing just exactly what this man is doing to you.

Michael changes his patterns, beginning to add two fingers to slick and rub in circles as he continues to kiss around your upper thighs.

You can feel your wetness doubling, trickling out of your pussy as you’re unable to take your eyes off of the erotic sight of Michael now grazing his tongue over your inner thighs.

Letting out little breathy moans, you gaze down at Michael with half-open eyes, gyrating your hips over his fingers as he continues to circle your clit painfully slow.

“I’m…” You moan softly, “I’m yours—ooh, I’m yours.”

Michael slowly begins to curl his index finger, snaking it inside of you. You whimper out of reaction, squealing as Michael adds a second finger and dips it in and out of you before momentarily popping them in his mouth to taste your sweetness.

Flustered and embarrassed, your eyes snap shut in response to Michael moving upward—tilting your chin with his free hand as his soft lips crush over yours.

Michael’s kiss grows needy and deep, joining his tongue with yours as you feel your clit almost swollen with arousal at his touch.

Stimulated so much, you feel an orgasm beginning to build from all the teasing and nothing more; rolling your eyes back in pleasure and picturing yourself bouncing over Michael’s cock.

As Michael lets go of tilting your chin, he pumps his cock at the same pace he fingers you in, readying himself for your orgasm knowing he hasn’t even scratched the surface of what he plans to do to you tonight.

Waves of pleasure hit you as filthy moans escape your mouth; melting around Michael’s dominance and giving in to him completely.

Through parted lips, Michael grunts; a look of yearning flickering in his hazel eyes that causes your shyness to spike up as the two of you make eye contact again.

Michael fully spreads your legs around his waist, pressing his hands down on both sides of the bed around you as he moves his head down and plans a sloppy kiss right over your pussy lips.

Wanting to sink into the bed out of shyness, the sight of Michael’s smoldering gaze between your legs is too much for you to handle all at once.

Taking your reactions as a green light, Michael darts his tongue up and down your clit, letting his bottom lip and mouth rest on the entirety of your pussy as he begins to eat you out.

“Oh—my God!” You cry out, watching as Michael slobbers over your pussy and slowly laps up your wetness with his tongue.

The sensation of Michael’s hot mouth over your pussy with his stubble brushing up against your clit is heavenly as he Michael keeps up a quickened pace, grinding his tongue against your clit.

You almost see stars from a delicious orgasm quickly building inside of you as Michael’s face is completely pressed into your sex.

Michael smirks at your juices beginning to trickle down your ass and thighs, pulling back just moments before you can reach an orgasm.

Whimpering out of breath, you watch as Michael kneels back up on the bed against your body.

Michael’s cock twitches against your pussy and your body desperately wants to cry out for him to fuck you; your wetness already beginning to ooze down and coat Michael’s shaft.

Michael’s eyes search yours for an answer, and you give him a shy nod of approval; forcing yourself not to fall apart at his touch.

“You taste so good, you know that? So sweet…” Michael begins to position his cock at your entrance, letting the length of his shaft slide up and down your slit.

“Oh G-God…” Your hips writhe against Michael’s in utter arousal.

“Tell me you want me,” Michael presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply.

The sensation of Michael beginning to slowly enter you drives every sensitive, weak spot inside of you insane.

“I-I want you. I want you—" Your eyes flutter shut in response as you relax your muscles, desperately wanting every inch of Michael’s cock to fill you.

You feel your insides clench in erotic response to Michael’s perfect, naked body before you—feeling the shaft of his cock press over your soaked mound.

Just the touch of Michael’s tip against your clit alone sends fire crawling through your skin as you begin to wrap your thighs around his waist and bury your face into Michael’s shoulder.

“Good girl.”

You take in the heavenly scent of Michael’s cologne and his clean, supple skin as he keeps you pinned down in the perfect, folded missionary position.

Michael thrusts in ever so slowly and as you begin to feel an inch of him enter you, a slight burning sensation mixes in with a momentary sharp mix of pleasure and pain as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Oooh—”

“Baby, that’s not even half of me,” Michael whispers against your skin.

The feelings subside almost instantly with how wet and aroused you are and you feel your clit throbbing against Michael.

“Mm!” You feel all eight inches of Michael thrust inside you; his waistline coming into contact with yours as his cock fills you completely.

Hearing the wetness of your pussy begin to slosh against each thrust from Michael’s cock, you cry out in pleasure and frustration, “M-Michael! Oh!”

Michael’s quick to beckon the orgasm he refused to let you have earlier, feeling how your knees quiver against him as a sensation of numbness from your orgasm growing dangerously threatens to release.

‘In and out… In and out…’

Michael grips your waist with both hands, fucking you at a deep but slow pace to let his cock brush up against your G-spot while keeping a steady rhythm inside of you.

Legs wrapped obediently around Michael, you cry out as you watch Michael’s clock slide in and out of you again with ease.

“P-please, please—” Begging for release, you feel your pussy contracting against Michael’s member, your words half-slurred from the intense sensations racking over your body.

It’s then that Michael slows his thrusts to excruciatingly slow but teasing deeply, tilting his hips into you as he watches you squirm against his cock.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Cumming in an explosive orgasm, you clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle out your screams of delight.

“That’s right….” Michael places his hand over yours, gently prying it off your mouth. “Don’t be shy, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

“Y-yes sir—” You feel Michael’s hips quicken his pace, fucking you steadily once again as the moans that spill out of your mouth are louder and louder with each thrust. “O-Oh! Yes!”

Your legs shake against Michael’s shoulder blades; your arousal is only fueled further by hearing Michael’s breathy grunts and groans in between thrusts.

Michael thrusts upwards and steals another moan from you as you roll your hips back at him, desperately begging for each and every thrust.

The scent of sex fills the bedroom as Michael pumps in and out of your pussy, obsessed with just the way you remain obediently sprawled and submissive before him on the bed—taking in all of him.

Michael brings you to loud uncontrollable moans as he builds his orgasm with your next one, watching as your toes curl in response.

A sense of numbness tingles through your knees as your orgasm releases out of you in an instant, making you moan out in complete ecstasy.

Letting your climax unwind, you feel the warmth of your orgasm rack over your body from all sides as you cum over Michael’s cock.

Enthralled by every inch of you, you gaze out of half-open eyes to see Michael’s scouring over yours hungrily, filled with a deep, delicious desire unraveling out of him as his body trembles.

Your cries of pleasure echo throughout the suite room as Michael’s breathing deepens. He jerks his hips inside of you a final time before spilling his seed deep inside your pussy.

Your thighs quiver like jelly as you attempt to catch your breath, clenching your legs around Michael’s waist.

Michael’s once slicked back, neat dark hair now remains a messy, tousled mess sticking to his forehead from sweat; his eyes appearing as dark as onyx from the lighting as his body hovers over yours.

“Mm!” You whimper as Michael begins to slowly pull out of you, leaving you as dazed as ever from pleasure.

“They’re expecting me,” Michael murmurs to you as he reaches for his belt and dress pants.

“Y-yes…” You breathe out.

“And you,” his eyes flicker back to yours for a moment as Michael begins to get dressed before you. “I expect you at the banquet hall, but I won’t hold it against you.”

Licking your lips, you clench at the bedsheets to regain your balance and sit up. “What do you mean…?”

“If you can walk,” Michael gives your thighs a playful smack.

Blushing furiously, you avoid his gaze. “I…”

“You will speak of this to no one,” Michael’s tone suddenly grows stern as he smoothens out his dress shirt, beginning to button it back up. “And pretend each and every time that we’ve never spent this time together.”

“Every time?” You repeat, eyes widening.

“You are mine, aren’t you?” Michael tightens his tie over his collar.

“Yes,” you admit a little too gleefully.

“Then I will have you again and again if you’re willing to have me,” Michael slows down his movements, fixated on your response.

You nod back at him shyly, grabbing at the duvet to cover your dignity.

“I’m going to enjoy our arrangement, Marina.” Michael finishes dressing himself, running his hands through his hair to tame it back neatly. “Only as much as you.”

“W-when…” You stammer, still catching your breath. “When will I see you again? Have you?”

“Have me?” Michael raises a brow, a ghost of a smirk over the corners of his lips. “You already have me, Marina. I will let you know.”

[stitchwraith-stingers]

HELLO! (points directly at url)

the stitchwraith is made by phineas taggart - a guy who wasnt incapable of feeling emotions (or something equivalent to that) and he loves to expiriment with agony, so he got acouple of items - including an ella doll, if youve read 1:35 am you mightve recognised him as a little cameo (he speaks to plants, and even called the creation of the stitch his own tin man, hes funny, i think tumblr wouldve loved him) and dies the moment the stitchwraith comes alive

the stitchwraith is compromised of two spirits: jake and andrew

jake was a 9 year old boy who had cancer and is the protagonist in the 6th books 2nd story the real jake, its important to note that his father, while away at war iirc, had a small doll that would speak to jake every night, hidden behind a closet, and jake would tell the doll what 'he did that day' (what he wouldve wished he wouldve done) and his caretaker, margie, would come in every night and draw on a thing related to it - if he said that he got into a baseball game then she would draw on a black eye on him, a missing tooth, red around the mouth to signalise the pizza he said he ate that day, as a surprise for him when he won the battle, unfortunatly both jakes father (whos named evan, funnily enough, he has an uncle named micheal too) and jake passed away, leaving margie with the home, which on a unrelated note became infested w cats lol, phineas had used the dolls head (which, inspite of it being implied that jake possessed the doll and ran away, i have zero clue how phineas got his hands on it)

andrew is the, i guess 'antagonist' of the man in room 1280, where hes been keeping william alive for a good while now and keeps confusing four nurses to the point of them calling a priest, he wears an alligator mask i think thats cool, and because of how much agony he has in him and how bitter he has at william (vaild) he is the reason why phineas had died by his touch, he has such a strong sense of emotion it just. kinda goes into everything, if youre wondering how his spirit got into the stitchwaith andrews spirit was also in fetch's battery, i dont know the story about that either ur guess is as good as mine

andrew and jake, together in this stitchwraith body, would collect the rest of what andrew had 'infected', which i only remember foxy from come closer being mentioned

andrew dissapears in the 6th epilouge iirc, long story short william in a massive trash pile monster form (yes he still has those goofy rabbit ears mentioned) had appeared and the two struggling not to kill our other protagonist - detective larson - had plunged themselves into it, andrews spirit is dragged away from williams, leaving jake alone in this vessiel

jake discovers, via accidently touching a homeless man, that he can go into others memories and make them plesant, so the death touch is gone for good, also by skipping towards the end he kinda becomes like, a guardian angel for the ballpit? with the memories of eleanors victims (also not relevant to the conversation dont worry about it) being in there, when he makes millies last memories her spending happily with her family, a single ball had started to glow, and the rest of them slowly did as well

i liked jake, i think hes a sweet protagonist, i thought andrew was interesting too but thats just me being tumblr user stitchwraith-stingers to each their own lol

if anything i wouldnt really exactly say that the stitchwraith is a villain, yeah andrew going "LETS KILL HIM" to some guy in his 40s is bad, but its more or less of a "dont judge a book by its cover" shtick (ESPECIALLY considering the whole renelle plotline), they arent finding trouble they just happened to be able to do that

TLDR: two ghost jokes in one expiriment body, one of them is pissed enough to kill people by touching them and after his spirit gets dragged away the other one can visit peoples memories and kinda maybe sorta becomes a guardian angel, dont worry about it

i fuckign HATE the latter half of fnaf lore so fucking much. i dont care about the mimic. i dont care about the stitchwraith. i dont care about the glitchtrap virus. i dont care about remnant. i CARE about haunted animatronics. can we please go back to haunted animatronics???? with the ghosts and the dead people and etc?? not whatever sci-fi bullshit is going on nowadays??

.

[royaltea000]

swk fuckspawn ocs

ft. a freshly born qi xiaotian

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[hauntingblue]

Jayce telling vi she won't make it on her own.... okay mr. projector...

[moonsrune]

There's a wounded expression that crosses Tyler's face when Brooke tells him she's not sure if he should have broken up with Nina. Does that mean she changed her mind? That she thought about it and doesn't think they're a good idea? Tyler doesn't want to blame her for that. She has every right to be confused and flighty. Brooke has only been single for a few weeks and Tyler has only been single for a few hours. Maybe this was all too premature and they should wait until everything blows over. How was he supposed to do that though? He can't. Not when she's saying things like, 'I like you' and 'I want to be with you' because that's all Tyler has ever wanted to hear. And hearing those things come from Brooke of all people makes his heart race and his stomach flip. What does that even mean? He assumes its nerves, but really he's unknowingly falling in love with a girl he knows he can never have. If he knew that, he would be running. He would get in his car and flee town because he knows he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of heartbreak. Not now, not after laying awake with her in bed and talking about everything that makes them...them. At this point, no one knows him better. Except maybe Nina, who's currently pinned beneath Noel's grinding hips, being filmed in an aerial shot as he urges her to say his name while she's moaning. If Tyler and Brooke were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the thudding bed and quickening pace of their thrusts.

"Brooke," Tyler breathes as she slides down from the desk to examine his arm. At first he moves his arm away from her, but then concedes. He reminds himself not to push her away just because he's hurt. Not physically, but emotionally. He has a habit of self-sabotaging when the world closes in and the wolves come out. Not that he thinks Brooke is a wolf. But her rejection is no less dangerous than a carnivores teeth. "Are you mad at me for breaking his window?" Tyler asks and his expression is soft like he'd just been caught doing something disappointing. Until now, he's never cared about people's opinion. His moral compass has been broken for longer than half his life. He threw the thing out the window the moment he was separated from Olivia who was his last real friend before the onslaught of foster families and unforgettable abuse. "You think so?" he asks, suppressing a laugh when she warns him that the hydrogen peroxide might sting a little. "I've gotten used to it, pretty eyes." He looks down at the cut as she applies the disinfected. If only there was a bandage for his feelings. Then he remembers there is. The drug that girl gave him. What did she call it? For a minute, it made him feel like everything was okay. However, he sobered up the minute Brooke got upset with him. His heart wouldn't allow him to feel unbothered when she looked so ...sad. Which reminds him that she does care. She can lie and hide it, but she cares. She's not Nina...he's not being manipulated. She's not Toni...he's not being abandoned. And she's not Elizabeth...he's not being taken advantage of. She's Brooke...the only person who's ever taken care of him. "No one has ever so much as put a Band-Aid on one of my cuts. I've always had to do it myself. You're uhm...You're really good at it." His eyes find hers and his heart opens up yet again. How does she do that? Make him come out of his shell. She's beauty, warmth, and pixie dust. What does he need Grim or ecstasy for when he has her?

"I can deal with Nina's consequences," Tyler looks up from his bandaged arm with a half-smile. "Brooke," he lets out a sad sigh as she says she shouldn't be interested in him. However, the sting does hurt less knowing she likes him in spite of it. "I don't know what you should do. It's not my place to tell you. If you want to be with me then we'll find a way. If you don't feel right about it then you should go. But before you make that decision, I want you to know that I like you too. It's not...about sex. I like connecting with you. You feel familiar to me even though we're practically strangers. But there's so much of my life I want to share with you and I've never felt that way about anyone before..." he looks upward with regret and his jaw flexes at what he's about to say next. "I thought I felt that way about Nina, but I was wrong. I regret every moment with her. But I don't regret a second with you."

The absence of his mouth hanging dangerously close over hers, can be felt almost immediately. Part of her stomach falls too, with regret at asking the wrong question. She didn't mean it in any bad way. She was just overthinking now, worried that she might disappoint him somehow when he realizes sex and a relationship with her may not be as exciting or wild as it was with Nina. Brooke didn't have as much experience in either and her biggest fear was falling for Tyler and him realizing she's weak in comparison.

"No---" Brooke shook her head. Though, she didn't realize her answer could be misconstrued as her agreeing that he shouldn't have dumped Nina. Ultimately, that's what she wanted. It's what she hinted at in their texts prior to Noel's party. "I mean, I don't know..." Brooke didn't feel like she was the best person to be giving him relationship advice. Nor, did she feel entitled to tell him what to do. Unlike Nina, she didn't see him as an object she needed to control. To her, Tyler was a person and she valued his thoughts and feelings. As well as his general well being. Which is how she notices the squinting of his eyes and the slight hiss as he rolls his shoulders to alleviate the pain radiating from his elbow. How had she just noticed that the sleeve of his shirt was wet and ripped?? Beneath it, there was a cut outlined in red. Blood. He was bleeding.

"You're hurt...." She doesn't mean emotionally, although maybe that too. Seeing her with Leo had clearly agitated him enough and he didn't like it. That much was obvious when he stupidly cut himself by taking it out on Leo's driver side window. After sliding off the desk, Brooke rolls up Tyler's sleeve to examine the cut up closely. She's no doctor but, she has enough experience with Jake and his big mouth to where she's learned how to patch a wound. Therefore that's what she does, after she finds some bandages and gauze in Kayla's bathroom. "I'm not sure which is worse.... you breaking Leo's window and hurting yourself in the process or Nina coming after you." The latter wouldn't bode well for them. Tyler having a target on his back means, Nina will want to keep tabs on him at all costs, which makes sneaking around, even harder. "Don't move, this may sting a little." Next to the bandages, Brooke locates a bottle of hydrogen peroxide which she uses to disinfect the cut until a real professional could take a look at it. Then, while using the dressings she found in the bathroom, Brooke wraps Tyler's arm up tightly. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm glad you aren't with her anymore. I guess I just didn't think about the repercussions when I suggested you leave her to make yourself happier." Knowing Nina, the consequences of that decision will be deadly. "By the way I'm flattered, I could make you that jealous. But, you know you don't need to be right? I'm not interested in him." Just then, her eyes find his to suggest who she's actually interested in. "I shouldn't be interested in you either. But, I can't help it. I like you. I don't know what that means or what I'm supposed to do about it." She finishes patching him up, just in time to gaze up at him. "What do you think I should do?"