#NOT ALL OF THIS IS FROM TODAY but ive been working hard on this silly guide... its been a lot of fun compiling info that either doesnt exis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perlelune · 3 months

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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

��Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes.

“No problem.”

But one issue arises.

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness.

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end.

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts.

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you.

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed.

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails.

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank.

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit.

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology.

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.”

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges.

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.”

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried.

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason.

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings.

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes.

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers.

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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somnambulic-thing · 6 months

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This fic is part IV of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

masterlist

messy Eddie Munson x gn!Reader with vagina&boobs, we're early/mid 20s, E 18+

Words: 6.4k

||contains: established relationship/former best friends, outdoor sex, piv, oral, teasing/edging, a little crying, light biting&scratching we're playing with: cum, slick, spit (no spitting tho) and blueberries in various consistencies; fluff, domestic, silly, food mention/eating: it's a picnic situation || you can always dm me and ask for more details

A/N: Oh my god, I finally did it. I've been working on this story since mid-June and it was actually where my ruminations about this universe started. I have no idea why this took me so damn long. I imagined the vision I had for this scenario would fit into something around 3k-ish. Look how that turned out. It's just a lot of sex and a lot of silly banter.

I have to thank @bettyfrommars and R for the help with that story. I probably would have deleted it without you a long time ago

soundtrack

Comments and reblogs are so appreciated you have no idea.

“You have cum in your hair, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s voice, deep and soft and a little raspy, is full of pride; his eyes full of bliss and adoration.

You smile down at him, stretched out on his back with his arms folded beneath his head, the only remnant of his live-wire-brain a slow bop of his feet which are crossed by the ankles.

He’s just as naked and sweaty as yourself and equally covered in the traces of your lust.

You reach out to tug on a sticky strand of wavy brown hair, twirling the end slightly between your fingertips.

“So have you, Munson.”

Eddie hums and nods like that’s good news and closes his eyes.

The wrath of the August sun can’t reach you in your little hiding spot, it only drips through the canopy of the poplar above your heads, heavy and thick like honey, leaving dancing specks of gold scattered all over his pale skin. You try to trace the ever-changing outlines with your fingertips the way you like to trace the ink, your feathery touch leaving goosebumps behind.

“We should venture to the lake,” he says with a lazy smile. “Go for a swim. Clean up this debauchery.”

You lower down to kiss the corner of his mouth as a starting point for the only journey you’re interested in right now; down the sharp edge of his jaw to his throat. Here you follow the string of purple bruises left by your greedy mouth and it leads you right to the dip of his collarbone. The hum swelling low in his throat turns into a sigh when you trace the shape of it with your tongue.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not yet,” he says and cups the back of your head, softly scratching your scalp. “Guess we basically just got here… we have time…”

…

It’s hard to tell the time on days like this. If not for the movement of the sun you wouldn’t be sure that it still existed.

There is a special place for the two of you where the laws of nature seem to bend around your togetherness. A space where it’s safe to strip off masks, armor and cloth, to let the other tend to those tender spots that ache from neglect or need and so often both.

It had always been there, created in the aftershock of your collision when you had become friends over night all those years ago. Eddie had been so easy to be around, so easy to trust with your dreams, quirks and secrets. In return, he’d given you pieces of himself too to keep safe, knowing you would treat them with more kindness than he often could. The presence of that space was always perceptible around you like a softly hummed melody wherever you went. One of you just had to pry it open with an inquisitive look or urgent touch and drag the other in behind them.

Today it had been Eddie.

You had followed the sound of tiny rocks against your windowpane and found him outside with a stuffed backpack over one shoulder and a dragon-slaying guitar clutched in one hand, wildflowers in the other.

“What’s the occasion?” you had asked, sensing something nervous in his smile when you flung yourself into his arms.

“It’s a Saturday and I love you.” He had scrunched up his nose in that silly way he always did when he tried to find the right words for important things. “And I want to fuck you where I picked those flowers.”

It had been a short drive and a short hike later when you saw the first spots of red and blue, sprinkles of white and yellow dance in the breeze and recognized them as the same flowers that now waited on your windowsill for your return.

“Almost there,” he’d said and you had felt the seconds slow and stutter as Eddie’s fingers intertwined with your own, tugging you towards the high grass and right through it, heading for the small clearing by the trunk of the tree and into its shadow.

“Nobody will see us here,” he’d said, arms tight around your waist. “Promise.”

You really hadn’t cared either way as Eddie nudged at your jaw with the bridge of his nose to gain access to your pulse.

There had been a moment - albeit brief - where you’d wondered if one could hear you from the path outside the field where time still existed when Eddie plunged his fingers into you, deep and urgent, his praises and your moans mingling, drowning out the birds and bugs lurking around as your back arched off the giant red plaid blanket he must have bought for this very occasion.

And then, finally, the rest of the world was erased from your mind when he chanted your name again and again, knuckles white from clutching the blanket in trembling fists as you swirled your tongue around the hot tip of his cock in slow dragging teasing circles for an eternity until he couldn’t take it any longer.

…

You smile against his skin, revelling in the soft noises he makes for you when you lap up salty sweat from his chest, when you flick the tip of your tongue against his nipple and in the way he squirms and begs for you to kiss him.

“Please, please, please…” he whimpers as you take your time kissing up his sternum, ignoring the tug in your hair, making sure to worship every patch of damp skin on your way to his lips. Eddie groans, so impatient, so greedy and you want to swallow him whole so you do the next best thing; you bare your teeth against his neck and bite him.

“Holy fucking…” he breathes in sharply but tilts his head up further. “You beast.”

You lick the tender flesh above his collarbone before you blow cool air on it to soothe the bite.

“Too much?” you ask with worry, pushing up to find his dark eyes waiting. You see the flicker of his plan in them the second before he flips you over and pins you down.

“Never.” His nose presses into your cheek before he nips at your jaw. A pointy knee nudges at your thigh and you spread them willingly to let him back between them. “That’s why I’m done begging for more now…”

“Oh no, I’m in trouble…” you try to tease but your voice strings out thin as he moves down your neck and chest; kissing sucking biting. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours and the hunger in them pulls your insides into a tight knot you can’t wait for him to untangle again.

“Let’s earn that clean up at the lake,” he says, his tongue leaving wet glistening trails of spit on your skin all the way down to your hips. There he gifts you a set of pretty teeth marks to remember him by before he settles on his stomach between your thighs, wrapping his arms firmly around them. “Let’s make a mess.”

You prop up on your elbows for a better view. “How will this differ from the average Munson pussy-eating endeavour?”

“Oh, sweetheart… you challenging me?”

“I guess I am.”

He shakes his head like you’re a pitiful thing, grinning sharply; it’s obscene with the way his mouth hovers over your pelvis close enough for you to feel his breath in the sticky hair above your slit. Your hips twitch upwards in response, impatience flaring up between them and his grip on you tightens.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts and shakes his head.

There were days when he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on you, cursing each garment that stood between him and the taste of you. But Edward Munson could be unyielding once his mind was set on a particular thing. Painfully so.

“I have a vision here and I need you to hold still.”

“I am,” you grumble, knowing you are not. “As good as I can with you breathing on my pussy.”

“The sooner you comply, the sooner we both get our treat. C’mon. Be good.”

You finally obey and relax, voicing a low, soft “please, Eddie” aimed to break his determination. His lips part in a cunning smile before he sticks out his tongue as far as he can, long and wet and pointed. Hovering.

“I’m not moving,” you whine.

Eddie’s brows lift - demanding patience - and he looks like a demon that way; wide eyes, gaping mouth, teeth bared and spit slowly running down his tongue.

“Oh.”

It’s agony, watching a bead of spit collect at the tip, hypnotizing how it grows and grows and the seconds stretch, just as much as the viscous liquid, before it finally drips down onto your clit and runs down to one side. There’s no controlling it; your hips try to buckle and the pretty pink tongue disappears behind a smile that’s all teeth and tender cruelty and still connected to you by a string of spit.

“Please…”

Eddie chuckles deeply, sticks out his demon tongue again and you force your body into stillness instantly. This is what possession feels like, you think.

“Please, Eddie, please, please, plea—“

The first gentle lick feels like little more than a breeze over your clit, barely nudging it, but it makes your jaw drop and your arms shake. A long stretched whine spills from your mouth as he repeats it again and again and again, adding slightly more and more pressure each time. His eyes are fixed on yours, intense, almost unblinking, and so very dark. It’s adding heat to the electric shocks his teasing sends up your spine. You channel the urge to move, to grind your cunt against his mouth into a pitiful hitching moan.

“Christ, your face…” Eddie groans, stopping his sweet sweet torture, fingers kneading your thighs short of painful. “Could come just looking at you like that.”

“I know,” you breathe out. “Love when that happens.”

He loosens his grip on your tighs, and brings one hand around between them. “I aim to please,” he says with a wink and points a finger gun at you, blowing imaginary smoke away before he shoves the barrel of it inside you.

And then he’s devouring you.

You fall back, your arms finally giving in as the sensation pulls you under, overwhelms you after all the soft teasing. He’s moaning against your cunt and it doesn’t take long for him to undo you again, knowing all the motions by heart that take you out of this world.

Your fist stirs up fine dust as it thumps the ground when he stops seconds before you can fall over the edge.

“No, nonono, why?—“

But Eddie is not listening. “Fucking dripping for me,” he marvels at his hand covered in your slick. He spreads his fingers and watches how your arousal forms shiny strings between his knuckles.

“You’re evil—“

“But my evil methods always get you off so much harder,” he says casually sliding two fingers back inside you while wiping the other hand on your stomach and his glistening mouth on your thigh.

“Fuck—“

A soft smile is curling his lip while he curls his fingers inside you. Your hips twitch up and Eddie uses the moment to press a soft kiss to your throbbing clit.

“Messy, messy pussy,” he sighs dreamily.

You can’t but laugh.

“You’re suuuch a weirdo,” you say softly and run a hand through his hair. You can see the praise lighting little fires in his eyes.

“Well, thank you,” he chuckles darkly. “It’s really inspiring that it gets you wet like that.”

You lose count of how many times he gets you close to the edge again just to pull back and cover you in sticky kisses to your thighs and hips and belly, to run his soaked fingers over your breasts and up your neck over and over.

Every inch of your skin feels sticky, every fibre of your body thrums like vicious reverb when he crawls up to you, eyes wild, lips and chin drenched and glistening with your wetness and kisses you.

“You good?” he sighs, sucks your lower lip between his teeth and pulls until it stings just so before he lets you answer.

“M’ on fire is what I am…”

“Good.”

“You’ve won. I’m such a mess, please, please fuck me.”

The desperate scratch of your nails on his back, makes his head drop to your shoulder and turns his low deep laugh into a moan. It’s contagious, spreads to you as he rolls his hips against you, his hard length sliding through your swollen lips, dragging over your clit.

“You smell like home,” he whispers against your skin as he pushes in, slowly, softly until he’s fully nestled inside of you. Your breath is unsteady, hitches as the pleasure of being so full of him pushes everything else out of your mind.

“Do you feel that?” he brings his forehead to yours, pulling out almost all the way, giving you that full sweet stretch again as he sinks back in. “How perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Feels like home,” you say and feel him smile as he kisses you. It’s slow and dragging at first and he stays close, burying you under his weight and his face in your neck as he buries his cock inside you again and again and over and over with growing speed and urgency.

“C’mon, fall apart for me,” he grits through his teeth, “I got you, always got you.” He peels himself away from you and sits back up on his shins. With his hair forming a wild dark halo around his head and your purple marks scattered over his skin the sight alone of his thrumming, sweat-glistening body straining to bring you to the peak of pleasure is pure ecstasy. His thumb finds your clit, slow dragging circles contrast hard fast thrusts and if you’ve been on fire before, you’re blazing now, hot enough to forge steel.

“Don’t stop…”

“Won’t…”

“So close…”

“I know. Me too…”

“So good…”

“So fucking good… come on… come for me…”

Your heels dig into the ground lifting your twitching hips off the blanket as the searing heat spreads through your pelvis like wildfire. Eddie moves up with you, melts into you, is one with you, fingers digging hard into your flesh to hold you where he wants you to fuck you through it. The world is not a place but a raging pulse and all you can do is surrender your body to him. It’s easy.

He’s your heart anyway.

He carefully lowers your hips back to the ground, smoothing his palms up and down your sticky thighs while you come down from your high.

“Look at me!”

Your lids are heavy as you blink to clear your view from a few stray tears.

Eddie tilts his head, searching your face with curious eyes, tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he backs away slowly, leaving you empty. There’s not much time to mourn the feeling as he swiftly straightens your legs and straddles your thighs.

“What—“

“Shhh, just watch,” he rasps out, licking his lips as he wraps his fingers around his slick, throbbing cock. His voice breaks, strings out thinly—

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—“

— as his fist works his flushed tip with precision and a rapid pace. The hair around the base is slick with your ecstasy and as your gaze wanders up his body in search of his face you find it a beautiful display of his own with his jaw slack and brows knit tightly.

His thighs tremble, then twitch and the blur of his hand regains its shape when with a few last long strokes and wide, teary eyes, he spills himself over you again and again in hot thick bursts of white.

The impact of his pleasure brings him off balance and he slumps forward. Your praises are hoarse, insignificant sounds lost between Eddie’s sobbing moans and you run a hand up your body to aid him spread his mess all over your skin while the other hand finds his face to caress a bright red cheek, to brush sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I love you so much,” you tell him.

Eddie sighs softly and turns his face into your hand, presses a long soft kiss into your palm before he sits up and throws his head back to take a deep breath. Above him, sun and wind are engaged in a play, turning the canopy of the tree into a writing, shimmering mass and for a moment, this feels like a dream. Then he sways like the branches, a goofy grin the last thing you see before he lets himself slump down next to you with a thump that makes you wince. He just hums contently, pressing his face to your sweaty neck.

“That was nice,” he mumbles, peppering your jaw with kisses.

“Yeah, uh-hn, really, really nice.”

“Dare say the nicest one yet.”

“Hmm, think I just saw your soul leave your body for a moment.”

“Hmm,” he hums and slings an arm around your waist. “My soul looks great on your tits.”

There is a beat of silence before you both break out in silly giggles, turning into laughter, turning into exhausted kisses and sweet words while Eddie’s soul dries on your skin in the warm summer air.

...

You make him drink some water first because he always forgets and while you have some yourself, Eddie conjures up a meal from his magical backpack.

“I made your favourite,” he says, opening a stainless steel container to reveal a pair of thick sandwiches. “Got some other stuff too.” He hands another container to you. “Just in case… could probably feed us for the next twenty-four hours.”

You remove the lid and find it filled to the brim with blueberries. You lift it to your face to draw in air laced with the sweet, earthy smell of the berries.

You hum with anticipation, mouth watering as you pick one large plump berry and pop it into your mouth, the rich, wild sweetness of the forest exploding on your tongue. “So good,” you sigh and a soft smile curls up the corners of Eddie’s lips. “I take it Wayne was lost in the woods again for a week?”

“Aye,” Eddie chuckles, eyes darting between your eyes and your mouth where two more berries just found their demise. “Must have been a good year. That madman collected enough berries to fill a bathtub with.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

He holds up his thumb and forefinger just enough so that a berry could fit between them. “I would call it embellishment.”

You huff and put the container down. Leaning forward, stretching out long over your waiting meal, you place a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thank you,” you say close to his ear. “This is wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

A hand comes up to the side of your head, holding you in place. Eddie turns his face to you, nudging your noses clumsily together. His tongue glides along your bottom lip before his mouth finds yours; a kiss so gentle it feels almost timid.

He releases you with a peck to the corner of your mouth. You watch him lick his lips as you sit back, his eyes are turned down and there’s that wrinkled nose again. You’re about to ask him if there’s something on his mind when he snaps out of it in the blink of an eye, grinning from cheek to cheek and the thought fades from your mind.

“Bon appétit,” he announces with a flourish of his hands.

You mostly eat in silence, leaving the stage to the quiet sounds of nature, recharging while the shadows slowly creep further and further away as the sun makes its journey towards the horizon. There is the occasional protest when you’re stealing bites from each other’s food as well as sighs of appreciation over a simple meal that equates to a feast without even trying.

“Open,” he says, a berry between his fingertips and you pull up your brows.

“You don’t have a good enough aim for that game.”

“And I won’t get any better without practice,” he says with a grin oh so sharp, a voice oh so seductive. “So, love of my life, open. Please?”

It’s hard to stay still like that for long when Eddie is huffing and puffing as he’s missing your mouth over and over. Berries keep hitting your cheeks, your forehead and a few bounce off your lips before he finally lands one in your mouth. He pumps his fist and you applaud him; for effort and perseverence.

“My turn. Open,” you say and he obeys eagerly.

The first one is a miss, the next four find their target with precision.

“You’re cheating.” Chewing much more than one berry requires, Eddie eyes you with his trademark up to no good-expression.

“How would I even do that?”

“Sorcery,” he says, and flicks a berry at you that’s hitting you right between the eyes.

Eddie clasps a hand over his mouth as you wince, eyes comically wide in his shock, breath stuck in his lungs. Before you know you’re doing it, you reach for the berries, feeling some pop between your fingers as you load them up and fling a handful of the sticky ammunition at his chest.

There’s a hollow thud upon impact, followed seamlessly by the smacking of skin on skin as Eddie clasps his hands over his heart, face a mask of anguish and disbelief displayed with such sincerity you’re almost tricked into feeling bad over your attack.

“Crit… hit…” he croaks out before his eyes roll back into his head as he collapses.

You’re on your knees, crawling over to where he lies motionless with eyes closed and mouth ajar. He doesn’t move, makes no sound when you mount his hips right beyond his soft cock that lies now snug against your inner thigh.

There’s dark pulp sticking to his chest; unlucky stray berries squashed in his throes of death. The smudge connects two hickeys, forming one large nebula in a galaxy of bruises. It’s beautiful, the complex hues of blue reacting with his smooth pale skin, turning the mess purple around the edges.

You just sit and stare.

“Wanna have a taste?” he says, one eye cracked open in curiosity before he opens them both. “Clean me up?”

A blush appears high on his cheeks, giving away his anticipation, just like the glint in his eyes and the hands kneading your hips.

“Don’t think I will.” You run your fingertips over his skin, from navel to neck and back again; slowly, softly. “Only fair that you’re a little filthy too.”

“Come on,” he purrs, “have a treat.”

“Nu-uh.”

His nostrils flare, his ribs expand to greedily suck in air and with it, all the mirth and silliness. Suddenly the air feels thick and crackling like in the wake of a storm.

“Alright, alright, I hear you,” he says calmly and reaches for the berries across the blanket.

“There,” he says, his clenched fist oozing purple juice and bits of skin. Dark drops run down his arm as he squeezes the berries to a sticky pulp before he coats himself with the mess from chest to throat. “You can leave some behind.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” you say with the calm of a preying beast and lace your hands with Eddie’s dripping fingers.

“Oh nooo,” he mimics you from earlier and grins like a blade. “I’m in trouble.”

Leaning down slowly, you pin his hands to the ground next to his shoulders. “There will be teeth.”

“W-was coun-ting on it.”

The stutter in his breath is delicious, a first taste of what’s to come. You want to make him whine and writhe under your hands and teeth, you need him crying and shaking and out of his mind.

His nipple is already hard when you flick your tongue against it and sweetness fills your mouth as you lick and suck and tug on the sensitive thing while your fingers find the other hard nub and pinch. Eddie barely breathes. He sucks in all the air he can get, then holds it holds it holds it before he lets it out as soft groans and moans. His fingers flex hard against the back of your hands, nails biting your skin every time you take your teeth to him.

You reach between your bodies and follow the trail of hair down with a featherlight touch to find his cock hot and hard and waiting. You slide your fingertips along the soft skin like a breeze, barely even touching. Eddie’s hips buckle up—

“Shit— hnng…”

— and you take the sensation away. Eddie’s face is flushed, his voice pressed through his teeth.

“Please…”

You lap at his skin, bit by bit uncovering a deep blush that’s more of a crimson compared to the bright red where his skin isn’t stained. He tries to grind against you but you lift your hips—

“Please…”

— and sink your teeth into his shoulder, over and over, inching torturously slow towards his neck. Some bites you kiss better, some you leave to sting a little longer. Desperate hands scurry over your arms, your back, your hips trying to pull you against him. Strands of hair stick to your face that must be stained up to your nose by now. You pull back for a moment and Eddie’s hands find your cheeks—

“Pleaaase…”

— to pull you into a kiss. You press a quick peck to the side of his mouth, then marvel over the shape of your lips printed there like a blue shadow.

“Fuuuck, you’re so gorgeous,“ he rasps with dazed eyes and chases your lips again. You press your foreheads together before he can succeed and his frustration is a cool draft on your wet skin as a long groan spills out of his mouth. “Please, please, lemme taste you, I really want to—“

His pleas are sweet and thick, just like his neck that taunts you with taut tendons and the slide of his Adam’s apple when he swallows hard around his desperation. You’re all over it, raking your nails down the sides while your tongue slides up right under his chin and—

“Fuck, no, wait, fuck—“

— everything moves as Eddie sits up and pushes you with him.

“Are you oka— hng—“ He stops your inquiry; fingers digging into your chin, keeping your mouth from closing, freezing it mid-vowel.

There’s this look again. His gaze flicks between your eyes and mouth until he’s just staring at your berry-coated tongue.

So you open up a little wider.

He moves slowly; it’s almost timid when his tongue finds yours and steals a little sweetness from you.

“Weird?” he asks, softly nudging your nose with his while holding you in place to keep you from swallowing. You barely shake your head before he’s back for more with a bruising kiss that’s full of nipping teeth and greedy tongues. Most of the remaining berries find a sticky end between your bodies before they are lapped up from various body parts and shared through devouring kisses.

You’re grinding your hips against his lap enough to make him shiver and moan but not enough to get him close to the edge and you’re determined to keep it that way until he’s losing it with desire. Which doesn’t take too long.

“You trying to kill me?” he whines with his head dropped to your shoulder.

“Just a little… as the French say.”

He groans. “I’d like to go out soon then, if you please.”

“No.”

He groans again and bites your shoulder. “M’ so fucking hard.”

It’s just a subtle shift of your hips but the next three, four times you move them, Eddie jolts and curses enough to damn whole bloodlines. You reach into his hair to pull his head back so he has to look into your eyes and you take a moment to admire the mess that he is; blue and purple and flushed red in between, jaw slack and breath stuttering under your gaze.

“On your knees. Palms to the tree.”

You lift off and Eddie scrambles to all fours to get into position, knees placed wide apart. There are stains on his back in the shape of your hands, layered over a pattern of slightly raised lines left by your nails.

Eddie’s shoulder blades ripple under your gentle kisses as you embrace him from behind. You run your hands down his belly to the V-shape between his hip bones and a little further to cup his balls with one hand while the other traces a thick vein on the underside of his cock.

You chuckle into his shoulder when he sighs with relief as you wrap your fingers firmly around him and start to stroke him oh so slowly. You don’t keep it slow for long, couldn’t keep it slow without stopping him from thrusting into your fist but you don’t want him to be still; you want him twitching and trembling.

Eddie takes care of the pace and your fingers do all the things that drive him crazy, your wrist twists just the right way and he’s holding his breath again, every muscle in his lower body ready to snap and so you loosen your grip before he can.

His head drops, a fist hits the bark of the poor old tree—

“Godfuckingdamnyou—“

“Shhh,” you whisper close to his ear. “Good things come in threes—“

“M’ not— can’t— hm-m, please—“

You wait another moment for him to calm down, or to hear the agreed-upon words that tell you he really can’t take any more teasing but they don’t come. He just breathes hard and shallow. You swipe your thumb over the hot tip of his cock, rub soft circles over the sensitive slit that dribbles under your touch.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say and tighten your grip again.

The next time he’s about to burst, you just let go of him—

“Fuck— fuckfuck, fuck you—“ he whines, hips thrusting into nothing and he sinks against the tree, resting his forehead against its roughness.

You caress his back, smother him in soft kisses and hold him close with gentle hands.

“Regret being cocky?” you ask, watching a bead of sweat run down his spine.

“Fuck you—“ he chuckles groggily. You think it sounds a little wet. “Never regretted a second spent with you, demon.”

“That’s just the impending orgasm talking,” you tease, a beaming smile pressed against his skin where he can feel it.

“I dare you to fucking make me come and I’ll tell you again— ah— Christ…“

“God, I barely touched you,” you say slowly wrapping your fingers around his aching cock. “You’re really sensitive now, hm?”

This time, the wetness in his laugh is unmistakable. “Oh, you think?— Hmmng, that’s gooood, please, please don’t stop!”

There’s no more frantic thrusting into your hand; Eddie finds just enough strength to push himself back from the tree to make it easier for you to reach where he needs you.

You work him slowly, no need for fast strokes when he’s crumbling like this and you know exactly where to rub and squeeze and circle to take him apart. High-pitched whines and groans mix with something that sounds like pieces of bark chipping from the trunk of the three. You drink in every noise, every twitch, every oh-so-small sensation; it’s all intoxicating.

Eddie is vibrating. Every atom in his body tuned to a frequency only you can receive. He’s begging you for a kind of mercy that one must be ready to receive.

“If your eyes are closed, I need you to open them now, Eddie. I need you to watch.”

“Oh g-god…”

“Good boy.”

You shift your stance slightly to one side and reach through his spread legs from behind to find that firm, plump patch of skin right behind his balls. Circling your fingers without any pressure, you let him adjust to the sensation first—

“Oh shit—“

— meanwhile, you press his cock flat against his belly, your palm stroking the underside, your thumb placed to grace his frenulum with every slide and—

“Shitshitshit—“

— it doesn’t take much; one two three circles against the tender spot and his breathing stops, four five six and Eddie turns to stone in your hands—

“Come on, Ed, make a mess—“

— and then he comes and comes and comes all over himself.

...

The setting sun sets the sky ablaze.

No pinks, purples or blues; everything is swallowed by a deep, burning orange that turns the surface of the lake into a raging inferno and in the middle of it all, floating on his back, is Eddie.

You’ve been watching him drift along for a while now - long enough for your skin to be as good as dry again - and if it wasn’t for the opposite shore that separates the sky from the water, you would worry he could just drift off into the sky and vanish between the few stray clouds that dare enter the flames.

It’s a fitting scene, you think, as you rewind your memories from the day over and over, matching the heat spreading from your chest into every last corner of your being.

Out in the water, the arsonist turns over and disappears, feet kicking up a small splash of water. You wait and watch until he emerges again a good distance away from where he dove in before you get up from your spot on the lakeside and cross the small distance to the van that’s parked right behind the treeline.

The back doors are wide open, left that way in your hurry to get into the water and you climb in to grab your Polaroid in an attempt to capture some of the colours before they turn into endless blue.

You cover the flash with your palm, listen to the motor eject the picture and tuck it out quickly to let it develop safely in the darkness of a worn copy of The Hobbit that lives in the back of the van. You leaf through the pages that shelter the pictures you made earlier that afternoon.

Two are a little blurry, one is overexposed because you left it face-up in the sun after the noise from the camera woke your subject from his slumber. He’d been curled up against your chest and upon waking demanded instant attention in the form of head scratches. All the pictures are full of colour - blues and purples, mostly - and blissful faces. Even the teary ones.

Looking at Eddie’s bright, sleeping profile makes you aware that the tiredness started to slowly creep into your limbs. You put the book down and get busy shifting stuff around to make room for the fold-up mattress and prepare a bed for the night.

You’re sitting at the foot of the mattress with your back to the lake, unrolling a sleeping bag you probably won’t need when cool wet fingers sneak under the hem of your tank top and damp lips find the side of your neck.

"Sorry,” he says softly when you flinch with surprise. “Didn’t think I was so quiet… Hi.”

“I was engrossed in nest-building and you’re like a cat,” you say and turn around. The soft light from the lantern inside the car renders his smile almost unbearably soft. He’s dripping wet from head to toe and strands of hair stick to his cheek and chin. You brush them away. “A wet, sneaky cat.”

There’s still a blue tint faintly staining big patches of his skin; you suppose you soaked a little too long in berry juice. You trace the outlines with your fingers. “You had a good swim?”

Eddie hums affirmatively, snatches your hand from his chest and presses a soft kiss to the tips of your fingers. “The fucking sky was on fire,” he says in an almost pensive way, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” He quickly blinks a few times before his eyes focus on you again. It’s like he’s coming back from far away.

“Where did you just go?”

“Uh, just… I’m… just a bit tired I guess…” he wrinkles his nose and scratches the back of his head as if another thought is stuck there. “You know…” he pauses again and then the expression melts into a smile. ”Someone interrupted my well-deserved nap after an almost deadly handjob.”

You huff a laugh, but the thought that there is something on his mind that just won’t make it over his lips starts gnawing on you.

“And I kinda wish I had a fucking towel. Don’t feel like waiting out here until I’m dry.”

“Have you tried shaking yourself very quickly, like a good boy?”

Eddie’s brows vanish under his wet bangs and then a wicked grin that can only be the harbinger of mayhem spreads over his face. You regret running your mouth even before he widens his stance and starts to bang his head like he’s at a Metallica show with his dick out.

Drops of cold water fly everywhere, too cool on your skin now that nightfall takes the heat away and you scramble back over the mattress to get away from him. “You animal!”

“As you have suggested,” he laughs, coming back up while trying to get the wet hair out of his face. “Hey, where did you g— hmpf.”

You’d thrown a blanket at him, hitting him right in the face. “Oh shit,” you laugh and crawl back to the edge. “Sorry—“

“Can’t quite take your apology seriously when you cackle like that,” he grumbles unconvincingly, peeling the blanket off his face.

“Dry your wet cat ass with that thing, throw it over a branch or something and then come in here.”

He does just that.

You’re already drowsy when he finally settles in behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, a soft low melody deep in his throat that seems to rest heavy on your eyelids. Eddie turns off the light, mumbles something about mosquitos and nestles his face into the back of your neck. You can hear him sniff.

“This is what you’d smell like if you were a lake monster.”

“S' that good?”

“Very sexy,” he sighs and holds his wrist under your nose. “Verdict?”

You sniff; it’s Eddie but more tart. “Highly erotic,” you say truthfully but half-yawning. “We could be lake monsters together. Share a lake. Just you and I and—” another yawn, “—and the algae.”

Eddie doesn’t reply and you think he must have fallen asleep.

“G’d night, love of my life,” you drawl just as your consciousness slips away.

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#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #my fic

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leqonsluv3r · 1 month

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May i request paying a visit to a hospitalized Leon (after a mission) and bringing a chocolate box for him?

waiting room

—you visit leon in the hospital after a mission despite your hatred for them, a blurb

masterlist taglist

you hated this place.

you’ve always hated hospitals and you don’t know why. especially today, especially now. you hate being here. if you thought about it hard enough it could’ve been all those years you sat by your dads beside praying that the chemotherapy would finally work.

and of course, it didn’t.

but you weren’t here for your dad today, today you were here for leon, your boyfriend. and this only made the hatred stronger, made your uncomfortable feelings rise as you stepped through the wing of the hospital.

you had brought him chocolate, a teddy bear and some flowers. you didn’t do anything sappy like a greeting card or a stupid balloon that said GET WELL SOON!! with silly letters on it.

no, you brought flowers, chocolate and a cute little stuffed bear. you didn’t want to come empty handed, you couldn’t come empty handed. it just didn’t feel right.

you checked in at the front and they guided you to sit in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside of the many rooms. you tried to hide your discomfort and tried to remember the real and true reason why you were here.

the nurse told you that you could go in, so you get up. the box of chocolates in hand and the teddy bear, flowers in the other. making your way to the room that the nurse is leading you to.

you hate that every step you take is one you’ve taken before years earlier, the noise of the hospital doesn’t help. doesn’t make the thudding in your bones help as you keep walking behind the nurse as she leads you down the long hallway.

you feel like puking, running or just maybe fainting.

but you follow, then you get to the room leon’s in. the nurse opens the door for you and you go in, glancing around the white walls, the tv mounted in the far corner and then him.

he’s got a bandage around his large upper bicep, he’s staring out the window of the hospital from his hospital bed. he seems to be in a deep thought, like maybe he wishes he wasn’t here either.

you clear your throat and his gaze goes to you, those stunning blue eyes snapping to you in an instant. he gazes over you, then the box of chocolates, the teddy bear and then the flowers.

“you came.” he says in a raspy voice, defining his exhaustion with just two words. you blink and lick your lips, “why wouldn’t i have? you got some other girl visiting you and bringing you stuff?” you joke lamely as you walk towards the small nightstand beside the hospital bed. the beeping of the monitor and the IVs in his arms making you realize why your really here.

he follows your every movement as you sit down the gifts you brought him, then stand by his bed and look him over. “of course not,” he says as he rests his head against the pillow, “i just know how much you hate hospitals.”

you sigh and grabs his hand, rubbing over his scarred knuckles, looking down into his eyes. “i hate it, yes. but i braved it for you.” you give him a wry smile and squeeze his hand in your own.

he shakes his head, “the things people do for love.” he admits with a small chuckle, you blink at him and swallow. “you love me?” you whisper softly.

almost in astonishment and nervousness for a whole different reason now, besides being in a hospital. his blue eyes meet your own, “was that not obvious when i…asked you to come here?” he says with a nervous laugh.

you squeeze his hand and smile, “it…it was. i just, you haven’t really said that yet.” you blink a little and feel your cheeks heat up. he looks up at you, “well,” he moves closer to you in his hospital bed, “i do love you, honey. i love you so much.” he says with a little bit of water in his eyes.

you nod and smile, a large one that couldn’t even be coaxed out of you by someone with a gun to your head. he loved you, he had suffered on a mission and made it back alive. and he was here, injured, telling you that he loved you. it was not what you expected to happen when you went to the hospital to see him today.

but your glad you did.

you were glad that he was fine, that he only got some minor bruising and injuries. because if anything happened to this man on your watch, while you were in his life. it wouldn’t be easy, he had lived to tell you he loved you.

and deep down, you knew you loved him too.

suddenly, being in a hospital to see him didn’t seem scary anymore. it seemed something that was easy, that you could have no problem doing. what was far scarier were the words slipping out of your mouth as you looked down at him.

“i love you too.” you managed to get out, squeezing his hand so tightly that you were deeply afraid that you could break it. but he was strong, sometimes he seemed indestructible. at the rate of how little damage he took on this last mission, only have a couple bruises and a fractured wrist.

you had both gotten so lucky, so lucky to have found each other. despite your hatred for hospitals and his for admitting his feelings, here you both were. you were both accomplishing your fears today.

you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, carefully and mindful of the strain on his body. the thought of him being in a hospital bed was obsolete and it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. not now, not here with him.

he kissed you back, his uninjured hand still gripping yours tightly. he poured every drop of his love and affection into that kiss as he could muster. wanting to give you something to latch onto, a promise, that he actually meant what he said. that it wasn’t just lip service.

“i love you.” he whispers against your lips, breathing in the same oxygen as you, like he would die without it. you let out a breathless laugh that fanned against his lips, “i love you too, so very much.”

love was simple, it was a fear from him that was as easily accomplished like one of his missions. he took what he could get, he faced it.

just like you faced your fear to be here, holding his hand and kissing him. bringing him ridiculously corny gifts, staying with him and not running when he admitted his feelings to you.

you both deserved each other.

fear or no fear, love or no love. you both could do it, this proved that. you both would be okay, he would be the one to absorb all the pain and love he was offered, the same as you.

because he loved you, and that could never be scary.

an: slowly working on all my requests, i hate how long it’s taking me but i work like 40 hours a week now and i only get two days off 🫣 i never get time for anything anymore. it sucks major ass, but at least, im almost done with most of them. but i hope you enjoyed this, hopefully. i hope it met your guy’s expectations lol <333 i love you all, kisses, xx.

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daredvssy · 11 months

Text

Insatiable

I've been really struggling to finish writing anything over the past few months, but this idea has been consuming me ever since the copia rizzchat on twitter was discussing it. So, for your enjoyment- approximately 1500 words of Copia being a 🐱 eating fiend. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 1530

Warnings: smut, f!receiving oral sex, overstimulation, dom!copia

Throughout the course of your relationship with him, you had come to know that there were a lot of things to love about Copia. He was an incredibly hard worker, who had earned every bit of power allowed to him by his position as Papa; and it was a role that he excelled in. He could command large crowds with ease, and there were very few at the Ministry who would not bend to his will should he decide he wanted something.

Despite this, he was still an awkward, rather silly man, constantly making you laugh at his antics. He was extremely kind hearted. He cared very deeply for those who looked to him for leadership within the Ministry. You had no doubt he would do almost anything for any of the siblings who lived at the abbey.

His love for his pet rats was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place; you had never seen anyone who treated the small creatures with the reverence he did. He was an incredible listener too; you could always tell you had his full attention whenever you spoke to him.

As a partner he was as close as a person could get to perfect, as far as you could tell. He always found ways to let you know he was thinking about you throughout his busy day, and no matter how much he had on his plate he always made a point to set aside time to spend with you.

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to love Copia. Though right now, one of those reasons had your attention more than all the others: the man was a pussy eating fiend.

At any possible opportunity he would be in between your legs drinking you down like he needed it to survive. He'd go for hours if you let him, making you cum over and over until you had nothing left to give. It was almost like he was doing it solely for his own benefit, and your pleasure was just a fortunate side effect of him taking what he wanted from you.

Today he seemed particularly desperate for you. He had been working you over for what felt like an eternity. After he gave you not one but two mind-shattering orgasms with no signs of stopping you had made the mistake of reaching down to push his head away reflexively in your overstimulated state.

Doing so had lost you the privilege of having your hands free. He had tied your hands to the headboard above you and was back between your legs, sucking on your clit as though his life depended on it.

You looked down at him as he worked his tongue around your sensitive nub. His hair was disheveled, and there was more of his papal paint smeared on your thighs than there was left on his face. While you were fully naked and vulnerable, exposed to him, he had only partially undressed; his jeans and vest had been discarded on the floor, but his shirt hung from his frame unbuttoned. He was rutting against the bed through his boxers as he ate you out, little grunts of pleasure escaping him as he worked. The sight of him like this would have been too much for you even if he wasn’t currently latched onto your overstimulated clit. You thrashed against your restraints, bucking your hips involuntarily.

"None of that, dolce," he snarled, pinning your hips to the bed with an iron grip before returning his attention to your drenched core, shoving his tongue deep into your cunt.

A pathetic, keening noise escaped you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he worked his tongue within you, his nose stimulating your clit just enough that you found yourself rapidly approaching your third orgasm of the evening.

"Oh, fuck Papa," you whimpered, the overwhelming sensations making your legs start to shake.

"That's it, tesoro, come for me again," he instructed, pulling back for a moment before returning his attention to your clit once more, sucking around the sensitive bud.

You were almost instantly thrown over the edge, your back arching and a stream of incoherent babbling escaping you as your mind went fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure.

Copia diligently worked you through your orgasm, continuing to suck on your clit as you came down from your high. As the haze of your orgasm cleared, you came to the horrifying realization that he still wasn’t done with you yet; the feeling of his mouth against you sending bolts of sensation through you like a hot knife.

You once again thrashed helplessly against your restraints, crying out as you fruitlessly attempted to clamp your legs shut to stop his onslaught. He was having none of that though, and your efforts were met with a snarl as he wrenched your thighs open once more so he could continue.

"Papa, Papa please, please Papa" you begged him, your voice hoarse as your eyes began to well with tears. He leaned back for a moment to consider you, giving you a momentary reprieve from the burning pleasure he was giving you.

"Do you need to use your word, amore?" he asked, considering you seriously.

"No Papa," you replied, tearfully but honestly.

"Then you will give me one more," he said sternly, beginning to lightly apply pressure to your oversensitive clit with his gloved thumb. Your hips stuttered involuntarily in response, your body unsure if it wanted to move closer or further away from his ministrations.

"I don't know if I can Papa," you whimpered, practically panting at this point.

"You want to be good for me, yes? You want to please me?"

"Yes Papa."

"Then you will do as you are told," he demanded harshly, leaning in to lick you with a flat tongue.

You whined in response, but didn't argue the issue any further, trying with all your might to relax into the sensation of his tongue laving over you. He continued lapping at you in broad strokes. Normally this would only serve to tease you, but in your current state even that was almost too much, you had to fight to keep yourself still for him. Your efforts did not go unnoticed.

"You're being so good tesoro," Copia praised you inbetween licks. His praise reignited something within you, and you could feel something begin to build slowly in your core.

"Oh, Papa," you whined, fully overwhelmed. "It's so much."

"Shhh, I know, dolce. Don't worry, Papa is going to help you," he said in mock sympathy. He brought two of his gloved fingers up to your opening, easily sliding them up within you. You cried out, clenching around the intrusion as he began to slowly pump them in and out fluidly, grazing your sweet spot each time.

As he returned to lapping gently at your overstimulated clit, he gradually began to increase the speed at which he worked his fingers in and out of you. Very suddenly, you felt as though you were right back on the edge; the burning, gentle lapping of his tongue against your clit and his talented fingers repeatedly brushing up against that spot inside you proving to be just what you needed to get there.

"Are you going to come for me now, dolce?" he asked, already knowing the answer..

"Yes, Papa, yes," you practically sobbed.

"Good, you're doing so good. Let go," he encouraged in a low, soothing voice.

You didn't fall off the edge so much as you were yanked over, set fully adrift by the burning pleasure that ran through your full body as you clenched around his fingers.

As you came back down to Earth you were vaguely aware of Copia releasing a shuddering moan against you; he had come against the bed from how he rutted against it as he had tormented you. You let out a weak whine at this realization.

Copia only took a moment for himself to recover before he was crawling up the bed, reaching over you to release your wrists from their restraints. You let your arms flop back against the bed, feeling boneless after how he had worked you over.

"You did so well for me my dear, so very good," he praised, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hummed a happy sound into the kiss.

As he pulled back, breaking the kiss, a small smile graced his expression, his eyes shone with adoration as he studied you for a moment.

"How do you feel, amore?" he asked.

"So good. And so tired," you mumbled, a sleepy grin plastered to your face.

"Is there anything you need, tesoro? Anything I can get you?"

In lieu of a verbal response you reached for him with grabby hands. He quickly got the hint, moving to lay beside you with an arm raised in offering. You wasted no time in snuggling up to him, burying your face in his chest as he brought his arm down around you to hold you. You drifted to sleep in his arms, feeling sated, happy, and safe.

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost bc #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #papa emeritus iv x female reader #sorry rebecca

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pinknipszz · 5 months

Text

golden girl

↷ ˊ- neteyam/metkayina reader | (i.), (ii.), (iii.), (iv.)

“cause i have walked a thousand miles for the golden girl, golden smile.”

neteyam had finished the spearhead in a matter of days. after having secured the carved bone to the end of a sturdy pole, he tried its durability against some fish, but not without whispering a few prayers beforehand. his arms had grown taut from the strain, and neteyam feels sorry for leaving you worried, even when he had apologized that he’d be missing another day’s lessons for reasons so futile.

but you, oh so beautiful you, had placed a gentle hand on his chest that spoke a thousand reassurances. the skin underneath your palm rejoiced at the contact, buzzing with delight. neteyam couldn’t even begin to recall what you had really said to him. but if you asked what beads were in your hair or what your eyes remind him of, he’d have an answer. he’d say it like gospel truth.

after you had left, he returned to the spear. he was still a warrior at heart.

neteyam remembers how the weight of it felt strange in one hand, and how he didn’t quite know what to do with the other. if you had been there that day to watch him, hunting fish with an aim that wouldn’t even impress a baby, you would have called him out on his tense shoulders or unsure feet. it just felt awkward, unfamiliar. his stance, his spear, the sea. but he didn’t want to call it wrong.

sure the smooth stone was too heavy for an arrow and too thin for a spear, but he would never call it wrong, a freak of nature. maybe he would have in the past, but now he knew what it really was: a little like him. carved for the forest before he changed its purpose. now the weapon was neither arrow nor spear. neither land nor sea. it lays tucked away in his family’s marui, collecting dust and dreams he dared not speak.

visiting the tidepools became a pastime, just as you predicted. it had not even been several days since neteyam last asked you to accompany him, but you didn’t mind. it made up for his recent absences. while you do adore his siblings and treat them like your own, you admit that there’s a charm in the eldest that simply could not be replicated. so when he had asked you one morning, your heart jumped eagerly.

you felt guilty the more you realized the reality of the situation. you joined the group for tuk out of the goodness in your heart, and now you yearned for her older brother. it made your stomach churn, yet a quiet, selfish part of you wondered what it would be like to stand by neteyam’s side, to call his family your own, and to have his child. you wanted a hand to slap you across the face, hard, for such thoughts.

the sun peeked through the overgrown palms as you and neteyam followed the familiar path to the pools. it didn’t take much convincing from your parents, much less his own, as if they could see something far beyond the line of friendship. growing and taking shape. the thought left you stubborn, willing to deny and fight for your pride, but you knew that it’d be for naught. neteyam captivated you beyond recognition.

you grew shy of his advances too, if you could even call them that. his silly attempts at conversation, the looks he gave you from afar, even now, with his hand entwined in yours, as he led you to the spot. they fell under an umbrella without a label, or on a blurred line between friends and something more. you bit the inside of your cheek until it drew blood, nervously savoring its copper.

“there will be more fish today.” neteyam said almost to himself, his eyes trained forward. “the waves were high last night with fish of all sorts of colors. you will like them.” you’re not sure if that’s how it works, but you didn’t comment on it.

“then we’ll bring fish for your family.” you squeezed his hand, committing his rough calluses to memory. warm. so warm. “you’re siblings are doing much better now. i wish you had been there to see it.” you remember how lo’ak had finally beat his record of twelve minutes with a commendable sixteen. truly a magnificent feat considering it had only been a few months worth of progress.

tsireya had been the first to congratulate him, all sunshine and smiles. kiri and tuk joined right after. you were fourth, and ao’nung the reluctant fifth. the metkayina trio had decided to end the lessons on a high note by dedicating the rest of the day to “unsupervised” ilu riding. truly, lo’ak had grown spoiled. but there was the unmistakable glint of disappointment in his eyes at how neteyam had not been there to see it.

his steps slowed as if to absorb your words properly, before turning to you with a strange expression. “is that how you feel? if you had asked me to stay, i would have.” neteyam said so easily, his voice light and borderline teasing. how cheeky! you looked away first, unable to maintain eye contact for too long.

the sea smelled stronger here at the edge of the mangroves, numbing your senses. you could only imagine how neteyam felt. the pools were closer too, and oddly enough, he had been right. the pools were higher, deeper, fuller. they reminded you of what you suggested prior. fish for his family.

“did you bring your spear with you?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, shrugging. “left it at home.” home. you didn’t catch his slip.

he let go of your hand so you can jump off the rocks. then, he followed suit. neteyam memorized it by now, the patterns in the rock. where to step, to pause, to turn. how one had more algae than the other. he doubts he’ll ever get over the feeling of wet algae though. it nearly left him nauseous, but he won’t tell you that. “then how do you suppose we catch fish?i thought you were a hunter.” you huffed.

“a warrior,” he corrected.

“is there a difference?”

surprised with your sudden curiosity, neteyam thought for a moment. truthfully, there wasn’t much of a difference when both hunters and warriors fought to survive. most times he felt like one or the other, other times neither. “somewhat,” he decided, choosing his next words carefully. “one hunts, the other kills. unless you plan to eat your enemies, then you could be both.” your face scrunched in disgust and you punched his shoulder.

chuckling, neteyam reached down to splash water in your direction. “i’m glad you can call yourself a hunter,” he continued. “i don’t want war to touch this place.” fish darted to and fro, and plants waved their tendrils at you. when his eyes grew distant, focusing on violent memories, you watched him quietly. never had the differences between you two been so clear, like the waters of your home.

you were a hunter, he was a fighter. you hunted with intent to feed, he fought with weapons to kill. the cycle of life and death, just as the great mother had embedded in your psyche. like natural law. it was just as strange how two na’vi of two clans could stand so close together, so strongly juxtaposed. sometimes you wondered if this was wrong, or simply one of the many unexplainable things that ewya had intended.

but how could you ever call it simple? even when his shade of blue was so different from yours, and how arms and legs and tail were so much thinner, you swore nothing has ever looked, felt, so right. “did you hunt in the forest?” you asked.

“often.” neteyam looked at you, so much lighter than he ever has before, at the mention of his first home falling from your pretty lips. two of the things he loves most entwined together. he fought the urge to kiss you, to feel the forest and the sea at once. “the first thing i caught was a fish.”

“you and i aren’t so different then.” you grinned.

neteyam finally felt that, after all this time, the move had been worth it. he promises to bring the spear next time.

(masterlist)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam imagine #avatar imagines #atwow neteyam

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tartigglez · 10 months

Note

For the 300 follower event. Can I request green with Zhongli as Rex Lapis?

"rest"

・❥・rex lapis x gn!adeptus!reader

・❥・1.5k

・❥・set in old teyvat, reader and morax are in a sort of weird soul bond situationship, half-dragon!li (i've just decided its his base form now so everyone cope), he calls reader "little one" at one point (lol?), reader has horns (that sounds so silly help), reader cries and it's kinda cinematic, (yes i am using this to heal the wounds my ex left me with because he was ashamed of our relationship thank you for asking!), this has gotta be one of my fav fics ive ever written LOL

・❥・HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IT IS I, CAEL. today i present you all with: a thing i wrote!

・❥・if you want to request a prompt from this event, click on the green title!

the world is quiet when the dragon slumbers.

at least, that's what you think.

that's what the adepti think.

the souls of the old deities that have been subdued by rex lapis calm a little when he rests. their empty shells are less vengeful, and they, albeit momentarily, no longer seek to wreak havoc on the people of liyue.

it was a simple mission you had. go to the cave, retrieve any necessary cor lapis for streetward rambler and do not disturb morax. and of course, none of the other adepti knew, but this rule was an optional one in your mind.

the others would never know of your relationship with rex lapis, which was of a deeper level than you cared to explain. the deep, intricate weaves of your two souls together were much more detailed than anyone could ever imagine, so gently and carefully tied over such a long time that they could never be undone. they were roots so deep that neither you nor him could even tell how much you needed each other.

of course, when he is resting you shouldn’t disturb him, because he needs it. he works hard to protect his people, and for this reason he should always be allowed to rest when he needs.

as the few chunks of cor lapis you carried in your bag clanked together, you entered the mouth of a cave in mingyun village. you were fully aware that this was where he would be, since you could feel his presence. but you were only here since this was where the best cor lapis could be found, right? right?

a seemingly small tunnel in the side of the cave led you straight to the sight of him. he was completely still in slumber, tail of brown scales and golden spines lay a little curved on his hoard of various gemstones and chunks of metals.

you walked somewhat slowly to him, tiptoeing your way in to the cave, only to have a look at him of course. he looked quite strange when sleeping. his aura was much more peaceful than usual.

normally, morax was calm. but there would always be some sort of troubled glint in his eyes, one that it appears only you can see, perhaps it is only for you to know of.

as you made your way to the side of the cave opposite to the opening, you could see his hair and arms glowing a little in rhythm with his breathing. from deep in his chest came soft, yet low purrs. he was at rest. however, the small smile which appeared on his lips would say otherwise.

slowly, but surely his eyelids opened, the bright amber irises previously hidden behind them meeting you as you stared at him, not even realising he had actually woken up. instead you were busy admiring his presence.

“you haven’t been here long, hm?” he spoke with a yawn, pushing himself to sit up upon his hoard. the golden surfaces of a few pieces of mora reflected his sharp features as he took a sigh.

your expression was one of pure guilt. you had only wished to see him, after all it was rare that the two of you got much time alone, but you didn’t want to actually wake him up when he was so deserving of a sleep.

“not to worry,” he smiled, “i was due to wake up in a few days anyway.” he got down from the top of the pile, ground shaking a little as he jumped, and was all of a sudden by your side. “why the long face, little one?” he asked gently, tilting his head to the side and placing a loving hand on your cheek.

“i didn’t want to wake you up” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “i did miss you, but i only wanted to see you, not disturb you.”

he moved a little closer to you, his horns slightly touching your own as he moved his forehead against yours, “you are never a disturbance to me, dear” he spoke, closing his eyes and taking a few breaths with you.

but suddenly, it hurt.

“morax…” you opened, trailing off, unsure of how to convey what you wanted to say. instead, your eyebrows knit themselves together, and completely out of your control, a single tear rolled down your cheek, losing itself slowly to the fabric of your robe after making its way down your neck.

he felt it, all of the emotions that were happening for you were making their way to him, his senses more amplified after having rested. “dear-” he said softly, voice breaking a little, hands and eyes searching your body for some sign of injury or pain, “did something hurt you, are you well?” his eyes were filled with concern for you, and somehow that made you feel worse. he stroked your cheek with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your arm. “tell me, what troubles you?” he asked quietly.

“you wouldn’t want to know,” you giggled a little, more tears suddenly escaping your face. “it is a futile complaint”

“tell me,” he said, bringing his hands to your cheeks and gently wiping away your tears, “i want to hear all of it”

you were silent for some time after that, the dim environment of the cave allowing you to lean your head on rex lapis’ shoulder, holding his hand as the other was gently stroking over your hair, and slowly massaging at the base of your horns.

“do you think we’ll ever be able to tell them?” you said, nothing more than a whisper. so quietly that if morax didn’t have such heightened senses, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it at all.

“tell who?” he said back, shoulder slightly vibrating against your cheek as he did.

“the others. do you think we can ever tell them about us?” you asked, absentmindedly staring at a single coin of mora across from you. upon its shiny surface was painted the image of rex lapis of one and his adepti. no. upon its surface was painted two people who were held in a love that had been finely crafted over centuries, each piece chiselled out like the stone of a statue.

“do you want them to know?” he asked, turning his head a little to place a soft kiss upon your head, humming a little before turning back to face his hoard, leaning his head on top of yours.

you nodded a little, closing your eyes, unsure of what to say next.

“if you want them to know then we shall tell them. i doubt they will be upset about it. after all, i am the one in charge, no?” he chuckled a little, interlacing his fingers with yours.

“you’d really tell them?” you asked, moving from the way you were sat, instead sitting up straight to look at him, holding both his hands in your own.

“if that is what you want, then of course i will. i only wish you had told me sooner.” he smiled at you, standing up and pulling you with him. your eyes shone brightly as you beamed at him, and he moved a little closer to you to ask a very important question…

“would you like to rest with me for a little while?”

you nodded, and within an instant he had whisked you to the top of his pile. he began circling around, trying to find a comfortable spot before inviting you to lay down by him, tapping on the space beside him, which was rather funny, because a few of his treasures rolled down the side of the hoard, which made him pout a little.

you keenly moved to lay down beside him, resting your head on his arm. however, there was one major problem.

“this is kind of uncomfortable” you spoke, watching his face contort from being relaxed, to confused, to relieved. through his expressions you could already tell that he had found the solution.

“here,” he yawned out, swiftly moving you to lay on his chest as he rolled on to his back. “better?”

you laughed a little, cheek against the robe which (barely) covered his chest. “much better”

he wrapped both his arms around your waist, every effort being made not to scrape you with his talons. and in this moment, that was when it hit you, more than ever before. every piece of care that he had for you and you for him, it was all for one cause…

“i love you, morax” you smiled softly, squeezing him a little.

finally, you had put words to it. after centuries, you had finally verbalised on the affection shared between the two of you. for the first time ever, you knew exactly what you felt. it was love.

it is love.

sfw masterlist || event masterlist

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin x reader #tartigglez 300 follower event #zhongli our beloved #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #genshin fic #rex lapis #rex lapis x reader #morax x y/n #morax x reader

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modelbus · 4 months

Note

hi!!!!! im new but ive read a lot of your work and its amazing!!

anyway, i was wondering if you could write a either hurt comfort or childhood friends to lovers, as a cc!tommy x fem!reader ?

it would mean a lot thank you !!! 🩷🩷

Why not both? Cue evil grin, mwahaha ;) ALSO! I’m back with that mcyt stuff!!

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader

Fighting Friends

You’ve known Tommy for as long as you can remember. Apparently memory formation starts when you’re about 6, so you knew there was a time before him, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

There’s a photo on your desk, framed with a cheap plastic frame. Both of you as kids, him wearing sunglasses and holding a Nerf gun up to your head as you’re caught in the act of stabbing him with a foam sword (he shot you in the forehead after the photo). The picture just about sums up your guys’ relationship. It doesn’t need to be worth a thousand words, just two: fucking chaos.

Or, that’s what you two normally were.

It was a stupid argument, even you knew that. A silly remark you took too hard, something that stung too deep. He said it during a vlog, too. A quip about rather dying than dancing with you. And with those few words, you stupid crush-addled heart shriveled up and was shot through.

So you had retaliated with a poor jab, and he didn't get it, and it all blew up in your faces. To the point where your messages have sat empty for three whole days. There's no "GET ON MC" message from him, no impromptu "Movie now." Just pure radio silence.

And you hate it.

You loved Tommy. Adored the hell out of him, unfortunately for you. And not just because you had a traitorous little crush. He's your best friend. The type of person you always knew would be there.

Right up until he wasn't.

It’s funny how much colder it seems to be now that he’s gone. Winter’s blowing in, like it was just waiting for him to vanish from your life before taking over. It leaves piles of snow that you dredge through to get to your favorite cafe, braving the wind chill just for a semblance of comfort.

You used to go here nearly daily with Tommy, making you dependent on the warm atmosphere that you haven’t been in since five days ago. Have you mentioned how much you hate fighting with Tommy? The disruption to routine, the fucking ache in your heart…

It’s a bit pathetic, honestly. But that’s simply what you are without him. One half of a soul.

The bell chimes, and you drag yourself over to your normal table and pull out your laptop. Even when your world stops, the actual world keeps spinning, meaning you have work to do.

“Hey sweetheart. No shadow?” Your head jerks up, instinctively smiling at Laura, the aged worker who always serves you.

“Not today.” You sigh. “He’s… busy.”

“Too busy for you?” Her eyebrows raise. “That boy will show up eventually for you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, trust me, hon. He’s got those eyes when he looks at you.”

Hell if you know what that means, but you smile at her anyway.

“Want your usual?” She asks.

“Just a water.” You shake your head, the idea of a hot chocolate without Tommy seeming just sad.

Laura nods then heads off as you turn your attention back to your laptop. In the bottom right corner a Discord notification pops up from Wilbur, but you ignore it without even reading the message. You can respond to him later, which you’ll probably do at night while in bed. Procrastinating sleep, per usual.

A mug is set in front of you—definitely not water—making you look up at Laura in confusion. Hot chocolate, complete with your usual whipped cream.

“I—“

“Someone else ordered it for you.” She answers before you can even ask, a sparkle in her eye. Before she steps away, she leans closer and whispers, “I told you that boy adores you.”

Your eyes scan the surrounding area, seeing Tommy almost instantly. Blond hair messed up, his favorite hoodie and jeans on. He makes his way to you, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out the second he’s close enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Laura step away. “I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have said half the fucking things I did—“

“At least sit down.” You interrupt, knowing damn well he’d stand there and apologize all day.

Almost instantly, he drops into the chair across from you. You quietly close your laptop, leaving the two of you staring at each other in awkward silence.

“You ordered me hot chocolate.” You say just to break the quiet.

He ducks his head. “You always get it.”

The acknowledgment that you didn’t want to get it without him hangs in the air.

“What’ve you been up to?” You ask politely. Small talk is strained and stupid; you’ve never had to do this with him before.

“Recording and shit. Made a mod video with Schlatt and Wil and Jack. You?”

You drink your hot chocolate while the two of you talk, the argument hanging heavy over your heads like a storm cloud. When you finish the drink, there’s some unspoken consensus that you’ll leave together, him stepping ahead to hold the door for you.

“I scrapped that vlog, by the way.” He’s saying, referencing the one you had filmed with him. “Wasn’t enough content to put in a video.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning, knowing that it was your argument that had made it such a short filming session.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” He asks, staring at you like you’re an alien. “I’m the one who made that argument a whole fucking thing.”

“You?” You echo. “That was definitely on me, I was so snappish!”

“Bullshit, I started it!”

“In what fucking world did you start it? That was me, Tom, I acted like a little bitch about that one—“

You’re silenced by something, warmth covering your lips before it’s gone as quick as it was there. It’s not until he’s four steps back that you realize what just happened.

He kissed you. He fucking kissed you.

“Fuck— I didn’t— I didn’t meant to do that!” He exclaims, eyes wide. “I mean— Wil told me to just go for it, but I told him he was fucking insane man, I didn’t— I keep fucking this up, don’t I?”

“…so that was an apology kiss?” You ask, confused.

“What? No! I meant I was sorry for kissing you without, Y’know, asking.” His cheeks flush, and it’s not until someone shoves past you that you realize you’ve both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“It’s… it’s fine. Okay, I mean.” You say, almost positive your cheeks are the same shade as his.

Tommy nods. “So I didn’t totally fuck this up?”

“I think you fucked it up a long time ago, Tom. I’m doing charity work sticking around you.”

He laughs, elbowing you as you start walking. “I’m the one doing charity work! I’m a fucking millionaire, you should be paying to be in my presence!”

“Oh, yeah, you kissed me for charity too, huh?”

“Wha— well I— that—“

You laugh loudly, having to look away from him to catch your breath. This was your Tommy, this was what you missed.

“Oh, you asshole!” He groans. “Fine! It was fucking charity, how about that?”

Shrugging, you can’t help your grin. “Just don’t make it charity next time.”

His steps falter, but when you look over at him he’s beaming. “Deal.” He announces, but doesn’t make a move to kiss you again.

“…are you not going to—“

“I have to surprise you. That way it’s fun.”

Oh boy.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommy innit #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit imagine

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vintagevict0ria · 3 months

Text

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Chapter 2 "Ive been watching you for ages..."

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader content: alcohol consumption, use of Y/n. a/n: oh gosh guys im so sorry this took SOOO LONG!! I have not had any motivation but i was determined to get this out! part 3 will not take as long!! Added a tag for all my works: #victoriassecrets!!

Endless scrolling turned into you following asleep. When you woke up, you found a pool of spit under your chin and your phone was dead. Rolling your eyes, you sat up stretching your arms before plugging your phone in and wiping your face. Today you had planned to get breakfast with Carolina today, to debrief from the past few days. It had caught you by surprise how much your co-star had been on your mind- an unhealthy amount you should say…

Hopefully this date would help clear your mind and focus on the actual movie and not Adam Driver.

You arrived at the coffee shop shortly before Carolina did so you found a table by the window. When she arrived: she lit up instantly when her eyes met yours. “Hey girl!!!!” She let out a squeal of excitement as she frolicked over. Standing up, you embraced her in your arms. “Oh em gosh we have so much to talk about!!” Of course, Carolina couldn't wait to start talking. Sitting back down, you took a sip of hot coffee before speaking “So i want to discuss how JJ is planning on building and establishing me and- Sorry- Taylor and Johns (you and Adams characters) relationship”

“He wants you and Adam to get to know each other from the other side of the camera so that way we have something to build off of before we start filming.” This caught you by surprise.In the past, no directors had asked you to have an actual connection that isn't just acting.

“We have 7 weeks till filming starts and I've already scheduled you and Adam a reservation at the restaurant down the road for tonight- lets get ahead yeah?” Dinner. Tonight. With Adam. It was hard to imagine what this could possibly mean. “So it's a date basically?”

“Oh gosh no silly!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Just think about it as a…” she paused. “Yeah it's basically a date.”

Oh Carolina, why would you do this to me!!

“No the red! No wait- the blue! wait - yes the red! Wait..” Holding up the two dresses and making Carolina pick was impossible. She was your hype woman and you looked good and anything but gosh this woman could not pick to save her life. “Girl, just pick! I'm going with the red-” before you could finish Adams manager walked in-”The cab will be here in an hour” she left quickly after dropping the news. Lovely, now I'm being rushed.

“Ok pick a dress and i’ll get someone her to fix your hair and makeup-”

“No- I got this. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Carolina smiled, looking up from her phone and going over to hug you. “First impressions are everything” she whispered in your ear. All you could do was laugh.

Dress? Red(or blue?) No yeah red…

Hair? Down! No up!! Wait… Down!!

Makeup? Uhhhhhh…

“Ms. Y/L/N! The cab is here!!”

Crap! You quickly grabbed your purse and ran downstairs while still trying to put shoes on. After who knows how long, you finally got your shoes on and was greeted by Adam.

“Evening.” He said, holding out his arm.

“Good evening.” You joyfully intertwined your arm around his elbow, letting him guide you into the cab.

The flash of the cameras was bleeding. Being an actor in Hollywood meant stalkers, love letters, cat calls, and of course- paparazzis. Security did their best to quickly get you too into the car with little to no time for the cameras to catch a glance of you and your co-star. As soon as you entered the car- a woman- around the age of 20, started pounding at the window of the car. “Adam! You are so hot! Have my ba-” the car sped off before the woman had a chance to finish. You glazed over at Adam but he didn't seem fazed at all. Was he used to this? The ride was quiet. All that could be heard was the rolling on the car on the roads of LA and the faint playing of the radio. Before you could be relieved of the stress of this event, you stupidly went on instagram and your DM’s were full of pictures that the paparazzis had taken just minutes ago. The pictures were not as clear as expected considering you basically ran to the car. You could just faintly make out the scene of Adams' arm around yours.

Once you arrived at the restaurant, the door swung open and a doorman held out his hand to you. You hesitantly grabbed it. Making sure your dress didn't get caught in the car door- you exited the vehicle and was once again escored beside Adam and security. Little to no paparazzis were around but somehow, many civilians knew you two were expected. Some profanities and obscure things were shouted but you too paid no attention to them. The restaurant lights were wildly contrasted with the dark outside. Adjusting to the lighting, you walked over to a table that was draped with a white cloth along with two wine glasses, silver wear, and a candle. Adam pulled out the seat, gesturing to you to sit down. Embarrassed, you smiled and whispered ‘thank you’ under your breath. Adam sat down across from you.

“So-” Adam began to speak, his brown eyes looked so whimsical in the lighting. Before speaking again, he cleared his voice. “Where are the menus?” He chuckled, looking around the restaurant. At Least he was trying to make this not awkward as possible.

“I was just thinking that! Have you ever been here before?” You scanned the room, it was quite empty- well entirely empty.

“No, you?” You shook your head. Right as you were going to say something, your waiter walked over, pen and paper in hand. “Apologies for the wait- what can I start you off to drink?” You both ordered a glass of red wine to start and shortly after receiving menus- ordered entries. Taking a sip of your drink, Adam asked “Thoughts on the film so far? Well, the script that is.” He brushed his hair back, still making eye contact with you. You couldn't believe you were having dinner with Adam Driver. He was so beautiful and there was something about him that wouldn't allow you to look away.

“I like it! Also- apologies for Carlonia setting this whole ‘date’ thing up- she can be really extra sometimes' ' putting date in quotes excentauted how awkward this dinner was. You hoped he would just laugh it off but- oh no.

“Carolina?” he laughed, shaking his head while looking down, “No, this wasn't JJs or Carolinas idea. It was mine.”

_________________________

To be added to my tag list- please make sure you are following me and allow me to tag you in post- add your @ to the form below:

https://forms.gle/BN5WNdKmRY4GSc7Q8

TAG LIST: @crybhabie @w4nt-h1s-d1ck @qweengigi @mrvlfanman

#angst #fluff #smut #plz reblog #adam driver angst #adam driver x reader #adam driver fluff #adam driver #adam driver smut #actor au #taylor swift #speak now taylor’s version #i can see you #victoriassecrets

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stevie-petey · 5 months

Note

hiiiiiiiii honey <3 could we get a blurb about bug telling steve about jonathan’s outburst towards her after he took the pictures of nancy and steve’s reaction to learning about it???? it would be so so appreciated by me <3 you’re the best ever <3 MWAH

(i am being held against my will to write this jonathan sweetie im so sorry) (i love u val) (u are evil)

i know this isnt necessarily what u MEANT but ,,, ive been dying to expand upon bugs kindness and how it may seem annoying and pathetic, but its hers ! its her kindness !!!

enjoy <3

"no way you guys havent wanted to strangle each other at least once." steve remarks one day as he watches you and jonathan work side by side at the cash register.

jonathan had been bored today and decided to join you and steve at work, something that you're very happy about, honestly.

"oh, ive definitely wanted to strangle jonathan," you say, writing down a new shipment receipt while the boy next to you doodles.

steve rolls his eyes. "old married couple squabbling doesnt count. im talking, like, full on betrayal and hurt here. you guys are always so... you, and it has to be an act."

jonathan snorts. "shouldve seen the fights we had last year. surprised y/n didnt kill me with her bare hands."

"i dont believe you."

"no, hes right." you look up at steve. "he threw a jacket at my face last year and then told me we werent family the night he took those pictures of nancy. then cried in my arms like a day later."

steve stares at you, shocked.

"i also then slept in nancys bed and lied about it. and tried leaving you behind a few times."

"that you did," you flick jonathans ear, causing him to wince in pain. "you deserved that."

"i did."

during this entire exchange, steve hasnt said a single word. hes still stunned, baffled by the fact that jonathan could be so cruel to someone so wonderful.

"wait a second," he looks between you and jonathan. "and youre still friends?"

"yeah." you both say at the same time.

steve cant fucking believe it. you do anything and everything for jonathan, that much is obvious, and sure. steve has seen jonathan do small acts of kindness towards you, devote the same back, but to throw a jacket at you and belittle you? and now here he is, joking about it alongside you. as if it was all okay in the end.

"youre too nice sometimes, y/n." the words leave steves lips before he can stop them. once he realizes what hes said, he looks up at jonathan and panics. "sorry, man. im sure you guys talked it out and... yeah."

jonathan shrugs. "no, youre right. she is and i was dick."

"im right here, you know."

steve winces. "sorry."

"its fine, honestly." you go back to scribbling shipment orders. "i am indeed too nice, but i dont ever really see the point in holding a grudge? i mean, jonathan apologized and i understood the stress he was under. sure, it didnt erase all the hurt he caused, but after almost dying immediately after being mad at him for not including me in something... i dont know. it felt silly to hold onto that anger after. childish, even."

jonathan and steve share a look, for once both seeming to think the same thing.

shes too good.

you hate that they do this. you hate that people view your kindness as a weakness. after the hell youve been through, long before monsters even came to hawkins, youve learned the hard way just how rare kindness is.

now you try to be kind to everything and everyone, no matter what it may cost you.

the kindness is yours, no one elses.

and if that makes you weak, then at least it made you better.

you tear two pieces paper from your notebook, scrunch them up into balls, and then throw them at steve and jonathan. "stop pitying me. im kind and i love that aspect of myself. i dont care if it makes me vulnerable or pathetic. its a piece of me, and i wouldnt change it. if you dont like it, then that belittles me even more than emotional outbursts ever could."

jonathan sighs. "youre right, bug. youre a very kind and lovely person and its what makes you a joy to be around, paper balls and all."

steve plays along. "definitely a better super power than spider-man, dare i say."

"okay, lets not get ahead of ourselves now," you giggle, appreciative of both the boys. they may not understand or like the way you view the world, but theyre at least trying.

its all you could ask for.

even if steve later on that day pulls you aside to whisper, "i think i can kick jonathans ass this time, if you ever need it."

and its enough.

#southelroy #ask #come home blurb #set in between seasons 1 and 2 #m speaks #m's writing #bug lore #wdtai insight #bug is the quote #and so i try to be kind to everything i see #and in everything i see #i see him #thats bug #and its what makes her so beautiful

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rubitheracoon · 21 days

Text

HEY PEOPLE IVE GOT A SILLY PROJECT THAT I WANT TO SHARE

I hope that got your attention :]

Anyway, Hi! My name is Rubi (not really) and I'm a young budding artist of many different flavours (some more developed than others).

I wanted to share a passion project of mine that I've been casually working on for the last year today (21st March 2024).

I've been trying really hard to get it out to more people, advertising it wherever I was allowed to do so. It still hasn't gained many follows. so since I have a larger following on tumblr, I thought this would be my next best option.

This project is a Spotify playlist by the name of "I'm all alone", which is inspired off of liminal spaces and how they make me feel.

From the moment I created the playlist I knew I wanted it to be a 'choose your own story' type deal, where the listener can infer from the songs listed to any capacity (specific or basic) and the playlist is just a base idea. I want to see other people draw their own creativity from my playlist. There is no right or wrong story.

Though, this playlist is far from finished. As of writing this, the furthest I've gotten to it being fully organised in a way I feel sounds right is down to the song "over population at the end of everything..." (I'm not writing the full title). If I continue treating it casually like I Currently am, it will be a long time from being a fully fledged playlist. But there's still information you can take from the unorganised songs!

This is the link to the playlist

PLEASE BE SURE TO READ THE TITLE ALONG WITH THE DESCRIPTION

ALSO DO NOT PUT IT ON SHUFFLE

I'd also like to add that for the people who want to get to the nitty gritty, I have accommodated titles, album covers and a certain song repeating to act as chapters, keep a look out! (All of these were entirely unintentional but very useful)

Please @ me when you talk about any theories, I want to hear all of it!

Lots of love,

- Rubi 🧡

The amount of likes I have as of when I'm writing this is 3. 2 of them are my other accounts

turns out my other 2 accounts didn't have this playlist liked after all this time so all 3 likes count. I'm now up to 7 as of 23rd May 2024 including those 2 accounts

Please reblog with all tags and if I missed any be sure to add them :)

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angellayercake · 1 year

Text

But first, let me send a selfie!

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

A little present for @gothdaddyissues 😊 I'm glad it has done its job ghestie!!

His phone vibrated jarringly in the otherwise quiet room. Touring did not mean a break from paperwork so instead of luxuriating in the high of another successful ritual he was using the adrenaline rush to work through yet another pile of documents that needed his attention. He spared a glance for his reflection having repurposed the hotel room's vanity as his desk.

He had washed off his paint hours ago when he first got back as it began to crack and flake post performance, but remnants of the black stubbornly settled in the ever deepening wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He looked about as tired as he felt. He had worked so hard to become Papa he didn’t like to have these thoughts but there was somewhere else he would much rather be right now. Or more accurately someone he would rather be with. He tried to suppress a sigh as he thought of you but his heart clenched. He yearned to see you, to speak with you but he wasn’t entirely sure if that would be welcome.

The phone buzzed once again halting his train of thought and looking down at his progress he decided he had earned a break. He reached for his phone, tapping the screen awkwardly to wake it up expecting to see more orders from Sister Imperator but as the screen lights up it is your name he sees and he can't stop the smile that grows across his face. A picture message, from you. It’s as though you had sensed his thoughts.

He clicked on the picture waiting for it to load and when it did it took his breath away. On the surface it was just a simple selfie but you looked radiant, smiling out of the phone at him, that look in your eyes the one that always made him hope that perhaps you felt the same way that he did. It was the exact thing he had needed. A reminder of why he worked as hard as he did to build a future for the Church and the Clergy but also to secure his own future, so he could avoid the fate of his predecessors and live out the rest of his days with you at his side.

He starts to type frantically needing to share his thoughts with you but after correcting his fifth typo he growls at his useless fingers and slows down typing carefully with one finger. He needed to let you know exactly how he felt.

You sat at your desk trying not to let the anxiety creep into your thoughts. This was the first time Copia had been away for an extended period since you began, well, whatever it was you were to each other. The way he looked at you sometimes you thought he must feel the same as you but neither of you had had the courage to broach the topic and now he was gone, for months he would be on tour. You messaged back and forth frequently but it didn’t stop you missing him.

He would send you silly photos, of the ghouls' antics, tasty food he was sampling on his journey’s and interesting landmarks. You had started sending him little titbits from the Abbey gossip circles as well updates on his little rat friends. You had taken to looking after them in his absence. But something had been missing since he had been away. You had been building up to something before he left you were sure but you feared the distance wasn’t making his heart fonder at least and you were slipping into a more platonic relationship. Which wasn’t terrible you supposed but it wasn’t what your heart truly wanted. Not with him.

And this all brought you to where you were today. A fresh haircut, make up done perfectly, new outfit. All in an attempt to cheer yourself up. You felt silly feeling insecure even though you know you look good. You didn’t need his approval and yet you craved the reassurance of his admiration. You could almost hear him voice his awkward stumbling compliments if you concentrated hard enough.

All this had brought you to the decision to send him a picture, a selfie, you tried not to roll your eyes at yourself. Objectively you knew you looked good, great even. You were doing him a favour letting him experience you looking this good! Off the back of your internal pep talk you had hit send and now you just had to wait. I would be late where he was but you hoped he would still be up otherwise you had just set yourself up for an agonising wait.

You tried to put your phone to one side and concentrate on your reading but within thirty seconds it was back in your hand. Right, two ticks. It has been delivered but he hasn’t seen it yet. You stare at the little symbols willing them to change colour. You shake your head putting the phone back down on your desk. You would just leave it open on the screen but you were not going to just sit staring at it indefinitely! But you can’t stop your eyes flicking back and forth every couple of seconds until you give up trying to read completely.

You drop your head into your hands and try to get a grip. You are a grown up not a teenager you need to snap out of it. You can’t spend the rest of the day like this. He could be asleep or too busy to look at his phone and you can’t mope about waiting for a response. You stare yourself down in the mirror above your desk, take a deep breath and that settles it. You will put your phone away and get on with your day, but when you glance at your phone the ticks have changed colour and your heart jumps into your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for the equally anticipated and dreaded dots to appear and you almost stop breathing. Then they disappear, then reappear. Gone and then back. Over and over again. You couldn’t look away from your phone if you tried.

Finally, finally a message pops up. Just two words.

‘Amore mio …’

And then nothing, then more dots, then nothing. Your heart feels like it is going to beat out of your chest. Did he mean it? Was it a mistake? What is he doing? What is he thinking? You are frozen in place, mind whirring away as you wait for something, anything.

Your phone begins to ring and you drop it in shock. It clatters onto the floor below your desk and you scramble after it not wanting to miss this call. You pick it up with shaky hands and manage to answer before it rings out bringing it up to your ear slowly almost dreading what you were about to hear. He has started speaking before you have even fully lifted the phone but you can hear him already speaking distant and tinny though it is.

‘Oh amore you couldn't know how refreshing it is to see your beautiful face! Thank you! You couldn't know how much I needed to see you today and yet here you are gifting me the chance to look upon you. You have changed your hair no? I am sure there is something different as I spend so much time conjuring my memories of you when we are parted I would notice this. And your makeup, it is perfetta, you take my breath away. And a new dress too? Si I would remember having seen you like this I know it …’ He continues on and on saying such beautiful things, more than you could have ever hoped for. Your eyes brim with happy tears as you interrupt him.

‘Copia?’ You needed to tell him you had never been more certain of anything.

‘Si?’ He whispers back, probably because he has yet to catch his breath from his beautiful, unending compliments.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

On opposite sides of the world you stare into your reflections as if the other was before you. Both feeling better after your affirmations of love over a simple selfie.

#the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #my writing #i found the title funny ok!!

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miraculousmultifan · 3 months

Note

Hi same anon! There also is some pole dancing talk in the smoshmouth ep 👀. I was surprised too that he wasn't in the beopardy but not really at the same time? Maybe I'm talking out of my ass but sometimes it seems like they're allergic of Chanse being in the smosh pit miscellaneous videos, meaning not eioyi, tntl and reddit stories. I just checked and between dec 7th(culinary crimes) and today he has been in 3 videos(pit theatre, ramen mukbang and challenge pit) compared to Angela's 8, Amanda's 7 and Arasha's 6. Thank god for the games channel where he's more regular.

THAT POLE DANCING VIDEO IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE!! like it was one of the first videos i showed my bestie bc i NEEDED her to see shayne fucking working that pole. it was both surprising and totally not but i think about it ALL THE TIME

AND NO BC YOURE ACTUALLY SO RIGHT! i didnt FULLY notice until you pointed it out but he really isnt in any other smosh pit stuff. (and tbf i was TOTALLY blanking on any other shows that are on smosh pit besides tntl, reddit stories, and pit theatre so thank you for mentioning them)

also!! bc in the staring contest livestream spencer revealed that shayne and courtney recorded a new tntl trivial pursuit, i REALLY want to see chanse on that show since i dont believe hes been on it yet. i mean id love to see him and angela or him and shayne be silly goofy because i personally think hes one of the funniest people on the cast (a hard feat considering theyre all INSANELY talented and hilarious)

anyway ive been yap yap yapping for so long so if you read all of this you get a treat! presenting: my favorite shayne photos from his beard era (these ones are from the mind meld squad challenge video)

#mira speaks #anon ask #ask #smosh #shayne topp #chanse mccrary

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study-with-aura · 8 months

Text

Thursday, October 26, 2023

I will not apologize for not updating the past couple of weeks because I have nothing to apologize for. I state that because I want to say that I am sorry for not updating! But that is silly! I took time off from doing school work these past two weeks because I felt overwhelmed and needed a break. My parents said it was okay to do so, and instead, I have been spending time journaling, practicing yoga, and going outside and walking in the wooded area of the park behind our house.

In the mornings, there are many older people who go out there to bird watch. I have gotten to know several of them, and they have shown me different birds and how they can recognize them. I will also walk with them sometimes. I think I have made new friends!

Keep in mind that taking study breaks is okay, and it should be normalized! Taking breaks when we need it is important for our overall wellbeing and can allow us to study even better once we have been refreshed. Spend some time out in nature, practice a hobby, do something you love, go to a museum for inspiration, and socialize!

In other updates for the past couple of weeks, we had another Girl Scout meeting and worked on a badge activity. We have two new members in our troop this year, which is very lovely! They are friendly, and I think we all fit together well. My dad is going on some sort of retreat tonight with the men at our church. He'll be gone until Sunday. I think it will be good for him to also have a break. He works hard. He's a law professor but he also works with a firm as a consultant and sometimes practices still, so he is constantly researching.

And this week at ballet, we get to dress up! I have a different "costume" for everyday. This week is always fun! We also have our showcase on Saturday, and I cannot wait! I wish Dad could be here for it, but he asked what I wanted, and I told him that I wanted him to have fun with his friends too and that he could come to our next performance. I meant that also. He is always at my events, so if he misses a few to do things for himself, that is okay. I want him to be happy also. Mom will be there, and that will be good enough.

Tasks Completed:

Practice - Practiced assigned pieces for 30 minutes and worked on memorization

Khan Academy - Mastery Challenge (Geometry)

Duolingo - Completed three lessons in Spanish

Activities of the Day:

Life Skills at the library

Ballet

Pointe

Journal/Mindfulness

What I’m Grateful for Today:

I am grateful that I have the ability to take breaks when I need it due to the fact that I am homeschooled and keep my own study schedule.

Quote of the Day:

When your inner child is not nurtured and nourished, our minds gradually close to new ideas, unprofitable commitments and the surprises of the spirit.

-Brennan Manning

🎧Tales of the Magic Tree: IV. Spider Knows His Craft - Alexander Litvinovsky

#study community #study blog #study inspiration #study motivation #studyblr #studyblr community #study-with-aura

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daredvssy · 1 year

Text

Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

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