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redocity · 1 month

Note

Can you do one based on work song by hozier.

Like the episode after he is struck by lightning, and he would do anything to get back to her (the reader) 😭

COMATOSE - E.BUCKLEY

after he’d been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he’s just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

WARNINGS: massive spoilers for 06X11, happy ending, established relationship

evan buckley x fem!reader II angst Il 4.6k Il requests open!

a/n: eddie doesn’t deserve to be separated from christopher in any universe so i wrote them back in-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

First it was Daniel.

Then he found out Maddie was still with Doug and hadn’t even met Chimney.

Then it was finding out that Bobby had died.

You were his last shot.

God how he wanted to see you right now. He felt like his whole world had been flipped upside-down, and it had in a way. He was sure of his theory, that this was some alternate reality induced by the lightning strike. That he had to be in a coma. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this.

The first course of action was to ask Chimney and Hen about you. He had no direct impact in you joining the 118, so you had to still be there right? Your job was your life, and even in a place like this that shouldn’t have changed. You were independently driven, and he just hoped that meant that you weren’t different.

“Oh right,” Hen snapped her fingers at Buck’s description of you. “She went into early retirement to look after the kids,”

“Sad to see her go honestly, she was great,” Chimney nodded along to Hen’s assessment, crossing his arms. “I miss her cooking sometimes,”

“You say that like she’s dead,” Hen rolled her eyes, hitting Chimney’s bicep with the back of her hand. “We see her all the time,”

“Yeah but that’s not the same as coming off a call and having the mastery that is her lasagna waiting in the oven for me to devour the minute we sit down,” Chimney sighs at the thought, his shoulders dropping as he imagines it. “Now we get it maybe once a month if we’re lucky,”

“Wait stop-” Buck holds his hand up to stop the two’s conversation, pushing himself from the dining chair he was sat in at Chimney’s table to stand with a furrowed expression. “Kids?”

You weren’t just not in the 118, you had kids here? Kids plural. Not even just one.

“Yeah,” Hen gives him a short nod with a raised eyebrow, like Buck’s confusion was the weird thing and not you having multiple kids with somebody who wasn’t him. “Chistopher and Nicolas,”

“Well, if we’re being semantic here, Christopher isn’t technically her kid,” Chimney gestures outward with his hands as he corrects Hen’s explanation.

“Oh please she may as well be,” Hen rolls her eyes with a scoff. “He calls her mom doesn’t he?”

“Still, biologically-”

”Guys.” Buck stops the two again, holding up both of his hands this time. “Christopher like Eddie’s Christopher?” There was absolutely no way.

“Yeah,” Chimney nods enthusiastically like Buck had just suggested a good answer for a general knowledge quiz. “They’re not married wherever you come from?”

“They’re married?” Buck swears he’s going to die all over again.

“I’ll take that as a no-”

Buck sat back down on the pulled out chair with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

You got married and had a child with his best friend?

This definitely wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Not where you were supposed to be.

You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to be yours. God you’d been through so much together, you’d pledged yourselves to each other. He had a ring waiting for you in his apartment.

You weren’t supposed to be married to anyone else. It was just wrong.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey,” There’s a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from where Buck is lying towards the origin of the voice.

“You should take a break, you need to eat something and stretch your legs,” Eddie squeezes your shoulder gently as he stands behind you, looking over the top of your head towards the ECMO machine keeping Buck’s breathing regulated. “It’s not good for you to sit here for so long,”

”You know I can’t leave him Eddie,” You sigh softly, dragging your hands over your face to try and rub the fatigue away from your features.

“Please,” He shakes your shoulders gently under his grasp. “You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this, you need to take care of yourself too,”

“I know that…”

“But you’re not going to leave anyway?”

”I just-” You exhale heavily, stretching your back from being hunched over to rest it against the back of the plastic chair you’re sitting in. “What if something happens while I’m not here?”

“Hey,” He tugs on the chair until you’re half-facing him. “If anything happens, I will call you. I promise. Please take a few hours to look after yourself, i’ll watch over him for now,”

You glance back towards Buck’s unmoving body, with a stuttered breath, slowly standing yourself up from your chair with Eddie’s hand behind your back to make sure you don’t stumble with how long you’d been sat there.

“He’ll be okay,” You look up at Eddie with glassy eyes as he tries to reassure you. “He’s a stubborn bastard, he’s not going anywhere,”

“I hope you’re right,”

“When have I ever been wrong?” He tilts his head slightly with a small smile, a lace of joking in his tone in his effort to lighten your mood a little.

It works to an extent, a small breathy laugh leaving your mouth, joined by a small shake of your head as you pull him into a short hug.

“Go and get some food, and then some rest alright?” He pulls away from the hug after a few seconds with his hands braced on your shoulders.

“Yes sir,”

Eddie laughs shortly at your sarcasm, watching you leave the room with a reassuring smile before he takes your place in the chair to watch over Buck until your inevitable return.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Chimney calls out to Buck as he power walks into the waiting room of the hospital, just barely able to match pace with Hen as the two follow after him.

“I’m not sure,” Buck stops abruptly once he’s inside, looking around. “I think maybe I’m supposed to come back to where it all started,”

“I guess that makes sense in the rules of this- Alternate universe,” Chimney gestures with his hands, following Buck’s turning head in gazing around the sterile white environment.

“I-I have this weird feeling, like I’m running out of time-” Buck turns to face the two with a furrowed expression and a hand pressed against his chest.

“Ooh, a ticking clock,” Chimney snaps his fingers in amusement, turning his head towards Hen who gives him a dissatisfied look. “Plot twist,”

Hen shakes her head with a roll of her eyes at Chimney, turning her attention back towards Buck. “You were having trouble breathing before right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if that wasn’t a panic attack?” She shakes her head again, but this time not in disapproval, instead in concern. “You guys are talking about this place as an alternate reality, but it’s not,” She gestures between Buck and the two of them.

“If you’re in a coma then this is all in your head, meaning that this place is still connected to that body.” She continues her theory with fervour, and Buck is increasingly grateful that at least she hasn’t changed at all. “If it can’t breathe, you can’t breathe,”

“So he feels like he’s running out of time-” Chimney’s cut off halfway through his sentence.

“Because my body is…”

Buck drags his hand down his face at the revelation. He was really at risk of dying here if he didn’t figure out how to get back quickly enough. He wanted to get back. He needed to get back. Desperately.

“Oh hey!”

Buck would recognise that voice anywhere. And it was both the most and least thing he wanted to hear right now.

“Chim, Hen, I didn’t know you guys knew Mr. Buckley,” Buck turns almost begrudgingly in the direction of your voice, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he meets your face. A flicker that immediately disappears as his eyes turn to the child in your arms.

He can’t be any older than five, and he looks just like you, except for his nose and his eyes. They matched Eddie’s features perfectly. And it felt like they were ripping his heart in two.

“Yeah uh…” The two look between each other as they question whether to divulge Buck’s predicament to you. “New acquaintances,”

“Mister Buck!” The child in your arms waves enthusiastically in Buck’s direction, a perfect mimicry of your smile on his features. He figures this must be Nicolas.

Mister Buck. That’s right, he was a teacher in this weird purgatory. He taught your’s and Eddie’s child. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey little man,” His greeting was more than a little stunted, his attempt at masking his features clearly failing under the way concern blooms across your face. He always hated when you looked at him like that.

“Are you alright? I know you just got out of the hospital recently and you’re looking a little pale, maybe you should sit down,” You place Nicolas on the floor to guide Buck over to one of the chairs to sit down, and your touch against his arm feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” He waves you off gently with a raise of his hand before bracing his arms on his knees.

“What are you doing here, everything okay?” Hen mirrors your concern towards Buck back onto you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” You give her a short nod as you straighten up from where you were bending to held Buck sit down, taking Nicholas’ hand in yours as he tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Just a routine check for Christopher, Eddie’s in with him at the moment,”

“Okay good, can’t have our favourite squad in duress,” Hen nods, happy with your response as she ruffles Nicolas’ hair, earning a chuckle from the boy and only sending Buck deeper into his pit of misery.

He was angry at a child, how pathetic was that.

“Speak of the devil,” Chimney nods his head down one of the hallways, and the group of you all turn your heads in the same direction.

“Daddy!” Nicholas is off immediately, running in the direction of Eddie and Christopher the second he sees them round the corner, and Eddie scoops the boy into his arms with no effort whatsoever.

He always was suited to be a dad. And that arguably made it worse for Buck to watch.

“Everything’s good?” You walk over to the three boys with your head tilted, gaze flickering between Eddie and Christopher at his side.

“All good Mi Amor, he’s perfectly fine,” Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, his free arm sliding around your waist to hold you securely against his side.

And that’s when Buck decides that he’s had enough.

He physically cannot stand to watch you with Eddie like that.

He has to get out of there.

And so he does, standing up abruptly and practically running down one of the corridors, leaving all of you to watch on after him in a mix of shock and confusion.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to Buck’s hospital room, Eddie has been replaced by Bobby. You can’t really be mad at that, Eddie has Christopher to worry about, and you know that he’s probably having just as hard of a time with Buck’s situation as you are. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Eddie to explain the situation to him. How Buck might not wake up.

You didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Hey…” Bobby turns his head up from his rosary beads as you practically whisper out your greeting, pulling a chair over so that you can sit next to him at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed.

He looks just as wrecked as you do.

“Hey,” His hands fall into his lap, thumbs still rolling over the wooden beads as he looks over your state. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great…” You start tearing up almost immediately, hands cupping your nose and your mouth and you lean forward with your elbows on your knees.

Empathy floods Bobby’s expression as he reaches over to rub a hand up and down your back with a soft sigh, watching as silent tears roll over the back of your hands to leave dark dapple marks on your jeans.

“I’m so scared…”

“I know kid,” Bobby pulls you securely against his side with his hand rubbing lines over your arm in a futile attempt to console you, his eyes locked on Buck’s unconscious features. “I’m scared too,”

“What if he never wakes up?” You lean your head against Bobby’s shoulder with a stuttered exhale.

“He’s strong, I have faith in him,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh hey kid, fancy meeting you here,” Bobby peeks out from behind a stacked shelf of medical supplies, his tone much lighter and less serious than Buck is used to when working with him.

“Thought you were dead,”Taking a moment to catch him breath, Buck steps further into the room slowly, his tone almost accusatory as his eyes narrow, beginning to tire of running around this fictional copy of his own life. “What are you doing here?”

“You tell me, it’s your dream, I’m just living in it,” Bobby shrugs nonchalantly, rifling through some of the bottles one one of the shelves. “Living my best afterlife,”

“Uh-huh, so I am dead,”

“Close but not quite,” Bobby suddenly changes position to come from behind Buck where he was previously stood in front of him. Because apparently that’s something he can do in this version of the world.

“Hey what do you think these do?” Bobby rattles a white tube container with a hum, tipping an unnumbered amount of pills into his mouth.

“This place is way too messed up to be heaven but uh, I don’t really believe in hell,” Buck exhales with furrowed eyebrows as he tries to comprehend everything. He feels like from the moment he woke up in this place he’s been in a constant haze of confusion, and no matter how much he tries to make sense of it, he can never fully grasp what’s happening.

“I- I’m in purgatory,” He exhales sharply as he accepts his own conclusion, laughing at himself ina derogatory fashion at his apparent stupidness. “I never really understood the concept of this, is th- is this a waiting room? Do I just have to hang here until my number is called or is it like, a-a punishment, a time out— do I have to do some type of penance before I’m allowed to move on?”

“Listen kid,” Bobby pulls an orange-brown translucent bottle from his pocket. “You need to relax,” He takes a large swig from the bottle, almost animatedly. “None of this is real,”

Buck’s features visibly soften at Bobby’s word, and he lets out a short laugh. “Ah, that’s the good news,”

Bobby turns towards a large white cabinet behind him, pulling the two doors open with both hands to reveal a large medicine cabinet. “The bad news is that it can be real enough to keep you here if you let it.”

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

Bobby pushes the clear bottles of pills on the middle shelf to the side to reveal a large glass window behind them, gesturing towards it with his head. “Hey look, you’re alive,”

Buck furrows his eyebrows as he cautiously approaches the window, features only furrowing further as they lock onto the image of the two of you in the darkened hospital room.

“And there’s me. Ooh I busted out the rosary beads, must be serious,” The image of Bobby shows him bent forward in his chair with his hands on his knees and his rosary in his hands, muttering soft prayers under his breath as he holds the beads up to his mouth.

“And a pretty lady, your girlfriend? She doesn’t look so good,” That was an understatement. From what Buck could see of the side of your face it looked like you were crying, the tear stains on your cheeks illuminated under the florescent lighting and making his heart wrench at the sight, wanting nothing more to pull you into his arms and kiss all of those tears away.

Then he noticed himself, lying perfectly still on a hospital bed hooked up to so many different machines he wasn’t even sure if he could name them all. “How- am I there and here?”

“Well, Evan Buckley, this is your deep dark subconscious,” Bobby leans over slightly towards Buck, tone slightly ominous.

Then the sound of a door turns both of them back towards the window as they watch Athena walk into the room and place careful hands on both yours and Bobby’s shoulders. “Oh hey, can we back up for a second? Are you telling me that’s my wife?” He exhales through his nose with a nod of satisfaction. “I mean, some things did work out for me didn’t they?”

“Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” Buck’s eyes lock on to what he can see of himself through furrowed eyebrows.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Bobby’s eyes follow his own, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “You could be dying, you could be fighting for your life. It’s kind of up to you,”

Bobby leans over towards Buck once again as he continues to stare at himself. “Which way you leaning?”

“I- don’t know,” Buck blinks softly, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head. “This felt pretty great at first but… Then the Doug thing happened, then you, and then…” His eyes flicker towards where your sat once more, a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you can bring me back from the dead even in here, but…” Bobby crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “I think you can fix the Doug thing, maybe even the Eddie thing,”

“Wo- Would that actually work?”

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly bound by the laws of physics and logic here,” Bobby shrugs again and leans forward slightly. “I know what you know,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Athena walks over to Buck’s hospital bed with a sigh, gently laying her hand on Buck’s wrist to rub small circles against his skin. “I don’t know if you can hear me Evan Buckley, but I do know that you never give up. So don’t start now.” She shakes her head with an exasperated exhale, her tone still authoritative despite her obvious emotion towards the situation.

“Bobby has lost… two children. He cannot survive losing you.” She sighs softly, squeezing his wrist just a little. “And your girlfriend, oh the poor girl… She’s distraught over you. You can’t propose to her if you’re like this. So wake up damn it.” She raises her voice ever so slightly at the end of her sentence out of frustration. Mostly at herself, that she cant do anything to help get him out of the situation he’s in.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Wake up.”

“Yeah I’m trying.” Buck gestures exasperatedly with his hands as he walks back towards the hospital waiting room with Bobby following after him. “Just need to figure out what to fix to get back.”

“Maybe you should just give up.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Bobby’s ‘suggestion’, his harsh words contrasting his jovial tone. “Did you know that you were clinically dead for three minutes? Things aren’t looking good for you,”

“How come you’re such a jerk in this reality?” Buck’s tone shift to border frustration as he continues to walk with Bobby following after him.

“Because I am loosing patience.” Buck turns around with a furrowed expression, and the two stop in the middle of the corridor, locked in a stalemate.

“When are you gonna learn?” Bobby crosses his arms over his chest. “Brother’s die, children and their wives die, sisters get beat up by their husbands, girlfriends move on and find someone better, you can’t fix everything.”

“Well I fixed you.” Buck borders on shouting in anger at Bobby’s words.

“Oh really? How?” Bobby stares at him blankly as he anticipates an answer.

Buck takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes narrowing once he’s found his answer. “’Cause I joined the 118… And I mad you mad. And I made you cry. And I made you laugh sometimes, you know?” He exhales sharply, gesturing between himself and Bobby.

“I drove you crazy, but I think you spent so much time trying to make sure that I didn’t get myself killed, that it made you remember what it is to live.”

“So basically,” Bobby meets Buck’s gaze with his own. “You were Buck,”

“Yeah,” Buck seems to relax a little once he’d got everything off his chest, features softening. “I was Buck,”

“And that’s enough?”

Buck turns his gaze down to the ground as he takes a few seconds to think about it, a small breath of a laugh leaving his mouth as he makes his decision. “I think it is,”

“Looks like someone just figured out the answers for himself,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A small group of you stand in Buck’s hospital room as they prepare to disconnect Buck from the ventilator. The priority visitors. His parents stood side by side, wrapped up in each other for mutual comfort, Maddie was hugging herself as an act of self-comfort, and Bobby was stood with his hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

The nurse carefully removes the ECMO covering Buck’s mouth and steps back towards the foot of his hospital bed. “And now we wait, see if he takes a spontaneous breath on his own,”

There’s about thirty seconds of silence before the regular beeping of Buck’s heart monitor changes to a jarring sharp sound, and Maddie turns towards the nurse with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“His oxygen is dropping,” The nurse’s tone is not at all reassuring. “If he doesn’t take a breath in the next few seconds we’re gonna have to reconnect him to the ventilator,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Right uh, this, this is all happening inside my head, which means I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” Buck takes a sharp breath in as he looks over the perfect mirror of himself in front of him, who gives him a hum with a condescending expression.

“Upside— uh, I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore-” He shakes his head towards his mirror image before turning to ignore him, swiping all of the bottles off of the shelves to further reveal the glass window, beginning to pull the shelves off of their supports.

“What are you doing?” His mirror laughs sarcastically as he watches.

“I have to get back, I’m running out of time!”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way in there. You’re stuck with me.”

“It’s not impossible!” Buck shouts to be heard over this negative side of himself. “There is not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into.”

He takes a deep breath to regulate his volume, staring at himself with a determined expression. “ I know that.” He lets out a short laugh as he gains a sudden weight in his hand, a bright red fire axe, one that he’d used so many times in the past. “’Cause I’m a firefighter.”

“There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.”

“I’m not going back for them. I’m going back for me.” Buck gives the mirror of himself a final look of disgust before turning to swing the axe as hard as he can into the glass, a loud shattering sound verberating through his ears.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You all watching in a terrible anxious anticipation as the jarring beeps continue to blare with no indication of change, your eyes locked on Buck’s face as you all desperately will for him to take a breath without any assistance.

And then he does, and the whole room immediately falls into tears. His parents cling to each other with loud sobs, Maddie’s shoulders tremble as she cups a hand over her mouth, and your knees almost give out underneath you if not for the added support of Bobby keeping you upright.

To say you were all relieved was a universally large understatement.

You were sure you’d never felt happier in your life to know the love of your life was okay. And god forbid you ever let him leave your side again.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley angst #asks 🚒

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sweaterweatherever · 1 year

Note

getting ur hands dirty is UNREAL waiting patiently for pt2 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

Something in the water (Ajax Petropolus x Reader)

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x AFAB reader

Warnings: Body related insecurities. Maybe peer pressure? Oral sex (Female receiving) Vaginal protected sex. Hand kink. Exhibitionism. If you catch the title reference, you get a prize! AGED UP CHARACTERS

Requested: Yes. So many times. Can be read as a stand alone!

A/N: Inspired by this Ajax quote: “We have roof parties, campouts, the occasional midnight skinny-dip. And Yoko’s an amateur mixologist. She makes a killer virgin mojito." → I think we all focused on the wrong part. Let me fix it for you.

“Do you really want to do this?” Ajax asks, holding your hand in his. You felt cold all over, and not only because it was like two am, and you were standing in the deck in nothing more than a shirt and a pair of sweats. “Because we don’t have to. We can just… Ditch them.”

“Xavier would be so mad.” You answer, quickly pulling off your shirt. “I already missed the one you guys had when we became members, saying I was on my period. He is an artist, he wouldn’t get it. He thinks all bodies are beautiful.”

“I think you give him less credit than he deserves. Xavier would understand you are insecure about your body.” Ajax pulled his shirt off, quickly following it with his pants. “And if you don’t want to tell him, we could just say we couldn’t keep our hands from each other.”

You, still in your bra and pants, gave him a look.

“I don’t want them to think about us fucking like bunnies, Jax. Besides, if I told him, Xavier would encourage me even more to do this. To him, nudity is freeing or some bullshit.”

“I think they already do.” Ajax answered, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Now, if you are set on this, remember you can back out at any time and I think your body is beautiful, just like all of you.”

“Good for you.” You answered, taking out your pants. This was possibly the craziest thing you had ever done. You were celebrating Enid and Wednesday becoming full-time members of the Nightshades. Why was the celebration skinny-dipping? Well, you weren’t certain. The tradition had been there long before you had become a member, and you had avoided the party that time. Xavier and Ajax had done it, though, and loved the experience. Apparently, being naked with your bestie was very freeing. Or that had been what the boys had told you. You had never told anybody why, until Ajax noticed you getting increasingly anxious when Enid decided to pledge and forced Wednesday to do it too.

He had asked then, but your input was a mere confirmation. Ajax had noticed you didn’t like to take off your clothes during sex, that you tried to cover yourself with sheets or turn off the light. That you loved his room, not only because he didn’t have a roommate, but because you avoided mirrors.

“You guys ready?” Bianca shouted, already in the water. Sirens, you thought fondly, willing to do anything to get in the water. Even celebrate the admission of her freenemie into a secret society.

“Coming!” You grabbed Ajax hand and pushed him forward. Both of you were in your underwear, and you felt the need to cover your body once more, or at least, hide behind him.

“Are you sure?” Ajax repeated, insistently. It was cute that he cared so much, but if you kept talking about it, you would lose your nerve.

“Ajax, get in the fucking water, or I will drown you myself.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Xavier cheekily said, appearing behind some bushes. You tried not to look, but you were curious to know if he was already naked. You looked down. Yep. He was. Xavier caught your staring and turned around slowly, smirking the whole time. At that moment, you prayed to whichever god there was to just open up the earth and swallow you whole. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

“You wish, Thorpe. Back off, I saw her first.” You didn’t need to look at Ajax to know he was glowering at Xavier.

Xavier raised his hands in surrender.

“If you want to get technical, she was my friend before I introduced you.” Then, stepping closer to you and giving you a wink. “Come on, underwear off. We have to get in the water before your boyfriend here stones me.”

You took your bra off, one hand coming to cover your nipples as much as you could. Then you went for your panties, surprised when you felt another pair of hands gripping your hips and helping you get out of your underwear.

“Use both of your hands.” Ajax lightly stroked your hipbone, in a motion that was so comforting it could not come from jealousy. Something was off. “I don’t want Xavier here looking more than necessary.” You suppressed a smile. He wasn’t jealous of Xavier, he was just playing the possessive boyfriend, so you could keep your body more covered. It was so sweet you wanted to cry.

As soon as Ajax got the panties off you, and you kicked them away, Xavier grabbed your hand and ran towards the water. Resistance was futile. You didn’t even have time to think before his freakishly long legs were forcing you too to run if you didn’t want to fall face first on the deck and get dragged.

“Sorry, too slow, Petropolus. I’m stealing your girl!” And without you could even feel self-conscious, Xavier was jumping in the water and pulling you along with him.

The shock of the cold water against your naked body almost made you scream. Bianca cheered, as did Enid when she, too, took her plunge. You resurfaced to the grinning face of Xavier, hair sticking to his face and making him look like he had been attacked by some white and golden kelp.

“That was amazing.” And before he could gloat too much, Ajax got into the water and started trying to pull him under, much to Xavier’s glee. You laughed.

“Boys.” Divina said, rolling her eyes next to you. She was watching her brother lazily do laps around the lake, trying to get Bianca to race him.

“Only Yoko and Wednesday are missing.” You answered, a little more at ease now that your body wasn’t on display. It was a beautiful night. The sky was clear enough that the stars and the moon reflected on the lake, making it seem like you were walking between them. The motions and waves made by the boys made it so the images rippled, giving the water a gorgeous shine. You felt like you were swimming in glitter.

“We are right here.” Wednesday said, getting slowly into the water, whole body shivering. Yoko, more practical, just jumped in.

“You should just go for it.” Enid suggested, swimming towards you. “That way, you get used to it.”

“I like the pain.” Wednesday glowered. “Don’t cut my fun short.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, Wednesday was the kind of person to enjoy getting slowly into the water.

“You know, this is kind of nice.” You said, reclining against the deck and watching how Xavier was splashing water at Ajax. They were just like little kids, really.

“It really is.” Enid sighed happily, and you turned to smile at her, losing sight of the boys.

“What is?” You jumped at Ajax voice. He was swimming towards you, Xavier hot on his heels.

“No rough housing near me!” You warned, placing your hands in front of you.

“Oh, babe. You wound me, really. How could you think such things about us?” and with a grin, Ajax was grabbing your waist, and pulling you deeper into the water. You kicked at him, trying to get away and just managing to do so, before you collided with Xavier, who started splashing at you.

So, you did the logical, totally mature thing and splashed him back. Ajax plastered himself at your back, running a hand against your ribs. Your breath hitched. There was something about the casual way he was holding you, bodies flush with each other, hand slowly dragging upwards against your torso. It seemed more intentional than casual, for sure. Ajax knew all about what his hands did to you, in detail. And this way of holding you, making sure to spread his hand against your torso, so you could feel each one of his fingers and rings, cold against your skin where his hand was hot, couldn’t be an accident.

You turned a little, to look at him.

“Let’s not flash Xavier.” He said, other hand coming to cover your breasts. His forearm was over your boobs, covering your nipples, and his hand was cupping your left boob. Taking advantage of the water, Ajax pulled you, with the same arm, closer to him. Xavier laughed.

Feeling a little more safe now, knowing Xavier wasn’t going to get an eyeful of your naked body, you lifted yourself some more and kissed him. Ajax smiled into the kiss, hands grasping possessively on your skin.

“Oh my god, yeah. I’m out. Fuck, I need a girlfriend. I shouldn’t be feeling like the third wheel when I was the one that introduced you.” Xavier complained, but you paid him no mind, choosing instead to turn in Ajax’s grasp, so you could kiss him more passionately.

“He is so mad, I bet we could get away with just disappearing.” Ajax muttered to you, and you felt all your previous arousal vanish.

“So you are just doing this to rile Xavier up?” You asked, frowning.

“Shit, that sounded bad, didn’t it?” One of his hands went to rub soothingly at your back. “I wanted to rile you up, too.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Umm, what I meant was… I don’t get you to see you like this so often and maybe, maybe, I wanted to take advantage of it somewhere else? So, I was riling Xavier up, just so he would leave us alone and we could…”

“See me like this?”

“Naked.” Ajax clarified, and the hand on your ribs lifted just enough, so it was cupping your breast. Your mouth opened, lips parted in a confused moan.

“We shouldn’t.” But Ajax’s hand was leaving your breast, slowly dragging the heel of it over your nipple, making a path towards your throat. Your eyes closed. Ajax was once again exploiting your hand kink and it showed. “This is unfair.” You protested, but it was weak at best. His hand grasped at your jaw, thumb brushing your chin.

“Come here.” He says, and grabs your hand in his. “Keep quiet and follow me.”

You obey him. Out of the two of you, Ajax is the stronger swimmer and the one who knows the lake better. You follow his lead, stepping where he does, quiet as a mouse. Slowly, very slowly, he gets you beneath the dock. The others do not realize, too busy watching how Enid is trying to force Wednesday to play some game or another.

It is dark and far enough your friends won’t be able to see you if they look quickly, but not far enough that they wouldn’t hear you moan. Here, the water only comes to your waist, and the cold from the night is making its presence known already, making your nipples harden and your whole body tremble.

“Oh, poor thing. You are cold.” Ajax says, and pulls you closer to him, starting to rub vigorously at your arms and shoulders. “Let me warm you up.” You glower at him, knowing he is about to play what turned out to be his favorite trump card. He is rubbing at your arms, fingers extended, rings digging a little at your flesh.

Before allowing him to win that easily, you decide to take matters on your own hands, looping them behind his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. Now Ajax is the one trembling. He might like to play all confident, but you know him. In the end, Ajax always melts.

Because you have to press to your advantage before he can react, you get bolder, one hand going to his erection. Ajax closes his eyes, resting his forehead on top of your head.

“Fuck.” Ajax's breath comes in sharp little gasps.

“I hope you got a condom somewhere.” You frown at him, lightly running your nails against his shaft. “We are not polluting the water.”

Ajax reaches up a little, going on his tip toes to tug something from between the wooden boards. A tiny, silver package. He gives you a silly grin, and your mouth opens and closes out of its own accord. You can help but giggle.

“You planned this!” You accuse, pressing a kiss to his throat.

“Maybe.” And you are so head over heels for him, you can’t help but want to kiss the smile on his face. You do, feeling the small puffs of air from his laughter interrupt the kiss.

“Enough.” You say, pushing him away lightly. You feel giddy, but still want to hold your ground. “I’m still not fully sold on this.”

“Okay.” Ajax blinks, hands immediately leaving your body. “Is this a we are not doing this because I’m uncomfortable? Or we are not doing this because I’m not aroused enough and don’t think this could be hot?” He puts space between you two, biting his lips. His brows are furrowed, and you suddenly understand why he is so worried. This thing of yours, it is still new. Ajax is having trouble with finding his footing, and so do you. You aren’t sure yet how much of each other's bodies you are allowed to touch, for what you need to ask permission and what is a given. He has always been careful, so careful, even your first time. Ajax is always asking and worrying about not forcing you into anything.

“Second one. You are not doing anything bad, I’m consenting.” You pull him closer, hugging him and hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Okay.” Ajax hides his face in your hair, inhaling deeply and pausing for a minute, like he is regaining his courage.“Yeah, I can work with that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, arms coming to wrap around your waist. Then, he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Ajax.” You warn, but he doesn’t listen. He is pressing kisses to your stomach, and you desperately want to pull him up because you had never let him do this before, despite him offering. But you don’t because you are also curious. About how it could feel, how your body would react. And you trusted him, after all, you were friends first. “The guys….”

“Won’t see anything. If you keep quiet, they won’t suspect a thing.” He is right about that, you thought the same thing before. The way he is leaving open-mouthed kisses around your belly button is making it hard for you to think straight. His perfect, big hands are grasping at your ass, steadying you and kneading at the flesh there. Ajax’s kisses go lower and lower, making you squirm. This is a bad idea, you know it, but you find it hard to care with the way he is mouthing at your thighs. Ajax spreads your legs a little, talented hands grabbing at your inner thighs. He licks you, from perineum to clit, and your first thought is that it is warm. The second is that it feels good, and you are a fool for not accepting before. You sigh, trying to keep quiet, but unable to do so when he decides to get curious, taking your clit between his lips. This time, your groan is loud, loud enough so Ajax pulls away, looking quickly at your friends. They don’t notice, too busy laughing at something or other. You know by now they have to have figured you two ditched them, but not to where. If they get out of the water and see your clothes, all bets are off. They would realize you never left the lake, and you would be ridiculed forever.

“You have to keep quiet.” Ajax repeats. Then, he noses at your clit. “Like this?” Feeling the vibrations against your sensitive pussy almost make you scream, so you bite your lips instead. You grasp at his shoulders, nails digging in, and try to convey your feeling about it. Ajax snickers, surely able to feel how your legs tense. His tongue presses deeper, aiding himself with one of his hands to keep you open, spreading your lips. It makes you stumble a little, kicking at the water and making some splashes. You are too winded already, and you know if it were not for the way he is grasping at your thighs, you would be in the water already. “Shit.” Ajax says, tensing between your legs. “Are they looking?”

And sure enough, you hear Bianca’s voice ask if anyone else heard the splashes, with Divina answering it must be the canoes moving with the wind. If you don’t hurry, you are going to get caught, you are already pushing your luck.

“Okay.” You say, trying to pull him up. “I want your cock now.” You blush a little, because it comes out way more demanding than you thought it would, but Ajax only gives a muffled laugh, getting up and kissing you. You can taste yourself on him, smell it even, and it gets you even wetter. He turns you around, peppering your shoulders and back with kisses.

You can feel his erection pressing against your back, closer as you are. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Quick as lighting, one of his hands goes to your throat, thumb pressing against your lips in an insistent manner. Ajax seems to have a thing for your mouth, and today is no exception.

“Figured…” You hear the tell-tale sound of a condom getting opened and rolled, and you wonder a little how much practice does he have to be able to do it one-handed. Ajax doesn’t lose any time, lining himself up, blunt head pressing at your entrance. You groan, and he takes the opportunity to slip his finger inside your mouth. “Ah… You might need some help keeping quiet…” Ajax says, and thrusts in. His hand muffles your moan. He waits for you to adjust, and when you start rocking your hips against his, Ajax starts fucking you in earnest. He whimpers, muffling the sound against your neck.

You try to suck on his thumb, but he is pounding at you hard and fast, in a way that’s not designed to make this last. He seems to be in a time crutch to bring you to the edge as efficient and brutally as possible. Ajax knows as well as you do that you are running out of time. His free hand drops to your clit, rubbing quick circles around it. He is pulling on all the tricks, all the weak spots he has memorized from exploring your body. Your hips buck and you almost bite the finger in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to relax your body, unclenching your jaw enough, so you can suck at his thumb without biting him. You would like to do more, but Ajax is holding you in a way that doesn’t allow it.

Instead of complaining, you work with what you have. Your hips meet his, thrust for thrust. The pleasure gets too much, too soon, making you cry out weakly. Ajax pulls his thumb away and replaces it with his index and middle finger, starting to fuck your mouth too, rings glinting in the low light. That, combined with the way he is rubbing at your clit, sends you over the edge.

Ajax does a valiant effort of fucking you through it, but the way you are clenching around him proves to be too much. He comes too, biting at your shoulder to keep himself from screaming.

Too caught up on your little bubble, you had lost track of your friends. When you hear steps on the dock, you look back to the lake, panic bubbling in your throat. You turn to look at Ajax, eyes wide. Your panicked look is perfectly mirrored by him. Your friends aren’t in the lake, they are in the dock instead. Which means, any moment from now…

“Oh for fuck's sake, these two were fucking here!” Xavier screams, right above you.

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sulfurz · 9 months

Text

ೃ༄ VERY CONVINCING (edge x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: edge x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: @slutforoscarisaac

could you possibly write a one shot with heel!fem! reader and judgment day edge? edge wants reader to join judgement day but she refuses (cause she’s an independent badass) on live tv which pisses edge off. so after their segment edge follows reader to her locker room to convince her to join. if you could please add your little sprinkle of nsfw that would be amazing!

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: sprinkle of nsfw n slight aggression

ೃ༄ WORD COUNT: 2.6k

ೃ༄ NOTE: i have not proofread this so excuse how messy it is. it’s messy in general tbh i’m sO SORRY but my god i am very attracted to this man (i’m actually gay and ace but that’s just his power)

standing in ring, mic in hand as you listened to the boos of the crowd shouldnt been have exhilarating as it was. but as you surveyed the arena, one hip jutted out to the side to see the majority of those around you jeering and giving you disapproving gestures, you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. it probably seemed menacing to the crowd, a sadistic show that you felt no guilt for the betrayals you had done, but truthfully? you could get used to being so hated. most great wwe legends had this period in their career, and seeing your name up on this lists made it all worth it.

backstage, you had your friend and the crowds you stuck around. in the ring? the only allegiance you pledged was to yourself, and the audience were well aware by now that this loyalty to your own cause ran deep enough to turn on those who appeared to be your allies. you had a goal — the belt — and you didn’t care what you’d have to do to get to it.

“missed me?” you asked the wwe universe, satisfied with the heckles you received in response. your break had only been short, simply recovering from a surface wound doctors had advised needed time to heal over, but you had wasted no time in ambushing one of your fellow superstars backstage on your return, and the fans were shown once again you were back and undeterred from your backstabbing saga.

taking a few steps forward, your leant against the ropes that surveyed the right side of the arena.

“it seems in just a month you’ve all forgotten who runs this show huh? hope my little display reminded you all.” you growled out, voice as sultry as you could manage. you were a villain they loved to hate, after all. “i’m getting pretty fed up of you all doubting me. how many times do i have to prove i’m the best before you start to believe me?”

your taunts were welcomed with angry calls, coupled with the occasional fan who cheered as they stuck by your side. those that loved the underdog always made themselves known.

you were just about to launch into the purpose of your promo when the arena went dark again, and the first sign of trouble was when the animated wings spread ferociously across the screen at the back of the stage. really, with the track you were on, you should have expected this sooner.

still, nothing could have quite prepared you seeing the newly drafted judgement day appear at the opposite end of the arena to you, damian and rhea flanking their leaders side as edge honed his attention directly on you.

he looked so eerie in the dark, an unsettling feeling settling momentarily in your stomach as you dragged your eyes over the kingpin of the stable. he only smirked back menacingly as they made their way towards you.

as expected, playing their role as perfect lackeys, rhea and damian took their places either side of the ring, ready to jump incase you made a break for it — but not edge. oh no, he climbed into the ring gracefully, not stopping until he was a mere foot away from where you had returned to stand front and centre of the stage. from here, he towered over you, something you were sure on camera looked more intimidating than most things wwe had seen.

lifting a mic to his lips, judgement days leader began his proposition, not breaking eye contact once. “you’ve made your statement y/n. you’ve got what you wanted — an opportunity.”

after an intense stare down, edge stepped away from you, and suddenly you could breathe again as he paraded the ring in a circle around where you stood.

“you have a lot of things to offer: the heart, the mindset, the strength — but what you haven’t got? a lot of allies.” you daren’t turn your head fully to look at him, feeling how the intimidating (yet, gorgeous) man stopped behind you. all you were willing to give was a weak glance to your side to see rhea grinning in the darkness. “you could be so powerful if placed with the right people. you have everything it takes, but way too many enemies to take them all down at once.”

edge circled back around, acting like a vulture as it waited for its prey’s final breath. they were determined to wear you down, but you steeled yourself as you let the man continue.

“you have no aid, and when those you’ve betrayed turn on you — well.” edge chuckled to himself, sinister and gravelly in a way that went straight through you. “i’d hate to have a front row seat to your downfall when you could have had so much more.”

poking your tongue into the side of your cheek, you stretched out your neck as you inserted yourself back in the conversation. “your side getting cold, mister? need another body to warm your titleless stampede?” you sneered, finding satisfaction in the glare edge sent you in response. “if you think i’d join your faction just because i’m alone then you don’t know me at all.”

edge clenched his jaw, taking a step towards you as another chant was ignited amongst the crowd. “i know you’re a smart woman, y/n. i think you know we could be the leg up you need to finally take what’s yours. and i must say you’d be better to have us as allies than enemies.”

you pretended to mull it over, but your decision had already been made from the moment you saw them appear. you had gone it alone thus far, and if anything, it was now a matter of proving to yourself, and everyone who doubted you that you could do it.

“do you know what i think when i hear you talk, edge?” this time, it was you who took a step forward, crowding edge where he stood. you had to look up to speak directly to him, but your presence was large enough to veto the difference. “i hear a man who is scared. you all know perfectly well what i’m capable of. none of you could come out to face me one on one, so you just had to band together to prove a point.”

you clicked your tongue before continuing.

“that’s the difference between you and me. i’ve been doing this alone. my enemies don’t try to get to me because they know it’s a losing battle. and i’ll promise you something else,” you placed a hand against his chest for effect, sliding it steadily down until it rested on his sternum “when i win this, alone, without your pathetic help, you’ll be the first person i mention in my thank you speech.”

with that, you dropped your mic to the ground, giving an exaggerated curtsy that had long become your signature, before you clambered out of the ring and made your way down the catwalk to the familiar sound of your music. even those who hated you couldn’t help but cheer after the display, and you weren’t about to stick around to see how judgement day picked up the pieces of your rejection.

there was a certain level of pride in your actions, knowing you had stuck to your own guns. you had barely even faltered when cornered by the hall of famer, and you could use that as a testament to your determination. the congratulations you received from various superstars and company men as you headed backstage (even paul heyman stopped to praise you?!) certainly told the promo had been an overall success despite the interrupt.

there would be a lot to sort at a later date, surely some damage control that your manager would be responsible for, but for now you deserved a shower, and maybe some takeout.

the locker room welcomed you with a familiar squeak of the door, finding the room which you shared with just two others empty due to their lack of scheduling at the company tonight. these were you favourite shows, when you could stretch and take as much time as you needed, no fear of others bursting inside whilst you were kid costume change.

or at least, you thought.

it was just as you were brushing through your hair with your hands, a button down shirt hanging open on your frame over the underwear that the door opened with a clatter. you moved to cover yourself, and scream at whoever was entering unannounced, but then you turned to see the figure standing in the doorway.

edge stared you down, eyes only leaving yours when he took the opportunity to take in the sight of your half dressed body. you buttoned up the mid section of your shirt on instinct, stepping back to your back as the judgement days leader closed the door behind him.

“my answer is still no.” you muttered, trying your best to ignore how he locked the door behind him.

“i know.” he hummed, playing with the bottom of his suit jacket. you had to turn back to your things to avoid his cold gaze “you made that pretty clear with your attempt to embarrass me.”

“nothing personal, sweetheart.” you taunted, surely adding insult to injury.

edge gave a faint growl, suddenly crowding behind you a lot like how he had in the ring. you felt a tug to the hem of your shirt, slapping his hand away before you were even fully turned to face him. he was closer to you now, having chest nearly colliding with your own when you whipped around to shoot him a glare. but all your possible retorts died in your throat when you saw how he was staring at you.

like he wanted to eat you alive.

“oh trust me, sweetheart, i know. to turn down such an opportunity on a personal grudge? now you’d have to be more stupid than i first thought.” one of his hands reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but it wasn’t sweet in the way most would take that action, it was a fight for ownership.

you stepped back in an attempt to put some space between you and the man, but were met by the bench against the back of your knees, almost causing you to tumble. just before you could slam down against the seat and the hard wood of the locker spaces, an arm was around your waist, steadying you but leaving very little room to breathe.

“get off me.” you whispered, no real heat to your own request.

he knew that too, lips curling in a smirk as he realised he had you right where he wanted you. “you don’t want that, do you, y/n?”

steeling yourself, you choked out an unconvincing “i do”, and just to prove a point, edge released his grip just enough to allow you to slip.

you weren’t proud of how quickly you reacted, grabbing at the collar of the black suit to keep yourself upright and igniting a low chuckle from the man in front of you.

once you had steadied yourself, he was the one to move to release your hands from his collar. you thought he might move back after having made his point, but he didn’t make any attempt to even release his hold on you, instead, taking a step forward until your back was curved as it pushed against the hard wooden beam behind you. the only things holding you up now were the angle and the way you levelled your legs against his.

he used the position to his advantage, sliding his knee in between your thighs, knowing you couldn’t push him away for fear of falling. one of his hands came around your body, not quite touching in a way that would provide pressure, but dancing along your bare thigh enough to pull goosebumps from your skin.

“your little stunt has caused quite the rift amongst us.” he growled, low and rough as his eyes raked your upper body. the top of your shirt had slipped open enough now that you were sure he had the perfect line of view of your chest. “i think you owe me an apology. what do you say?”

his free hand, the one that wasn’t teasing your thigh, journeyed back up your body, coming around rest on the back of your waist. you couldn’t help but arch on instinct, head lifted enough that the space between your faces was almost minimal. he leant forward, breath ghosting over your lips as you mustered as much power as possible to whisper a half hearted “fuck you.”

edge chuckled again in response, hand on your waist giving a firm squeeze before his lips were on your neck. your brain was screaming to move away, but the pleasant sensation that rushed through your body told you otherwise. “you’d like that wouldn’t you.” he mumbled against your skin, trailing a line of kisses down the side of your neck and across your clavicle. you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out as he attached his lips to the bottom of your throat, nipping at the skin there “tell me to stop, babygirl, and i will.”

there was your out, all you needed was to say the word and, despite his harsh acting exterior, the gentleman inside would stop. but you both knew you couldn’t, not with how his hand massaged at your waist, and his lips sucked what would surely be a bruise come the morning into your sensitive neck.

“edge,” you whispered out, hands coming around his neck to tug him closer. he obliged, hand around your waist pulling you up and flush against his body. the movement caused just enough pressure of his knee against your crotch, and the involuntary groan that left your mouth was welcomed by him smashing his lips against yours.

he kissed you ferociously, not wasting any time before sliding his tongue into the mix. then, your feet were off the floor and legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he pushed your back against the locker spaces once more, his waist pressed firmly against yours so that you could feel just how affected he was. you were sure you weren’t much better, feeling the way your body reacted on instinct to the man’s touch.

he supported you enough with his thigh to release one hand from under you to practically undo the two buttons holding your shirt together with an expert flick. the air conditioning hit your body once more, and for someone who wrestled in underwear, you had never felt more exposed than now.

“still not joining.” you mustered up enough courage to whisper the rejection again, gasping loudly when edge used your distraction to cleverly unhook your bra. it didn’t slip off due to the issue of your shirt still being over your arms, but he seemed pleased with himself as he kissed down your chest.

the hand that had worked the magic on your top trailer down your centre, teasing finger pressing until he reached the hem of your underwear. he attached his lips momentarily to your left breast, before his hand found its goal and he cupped your heat through your underwear, a snarky “even now?” breathed into your skin.

you couldn’t help the moan that tore out of you once again as edge slipped your underwear to one side, but this time all that followed was a chuckle of your own as you used your hands to direct his head upwards. just before you collided your lips together once more, you punctuated your laugh with a sly “actually, you’re very convincing.”

#✍🏻 requests : slutforoscarisaac #wwe x reader #wwe imagines #wwe edge #edge x reader #edge imagines #edge imagine #edge scenario #wwe edge x reader #adam copeland #mentions of :#rhea ripley #damian priest

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endless-summer-soldier · 9 months

Text

cruel to be kind - chapter two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: my taglist was getting messy so I created a sign up form! please complete and indicate your fic preferences. even if you're already being tagged, I'd really appreciate if you'd complete this! link for the sign up is here

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taglist: taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @fallenlilangel99 @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @milanaasblog @marvel-wifey-86 @helluvapimp @charmedbysarge @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @unaxv @theroyalmanatee @tellmealovestory @zanneme (click here to be added!)

Bucky knocked twice on her front door and waited for about three minutes before knocking again. The door flew open and Y/N stood in front of him, clad in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of bike shorts.

“Can I help you,” she phrased it more as a statement than a question.

“Did you forget about our plans, doll?” he asked.

“You were serious?” she retorted.

“As the plague.” They squared off in an unspoken staring contest until Y/N finally blinked.

She sighed, “Fine. I’ll give you an hour.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She grabbed her keys and slid on a pair of converse and Bucky smiled to himself. He loved that she was going to a party in an oversized T-shirt and no makeup on. She truly didn’t care what anyone thought of her and she wasn’t there to impress anyone. Little did she know that her IDGAF attitude was impressing him.

“How did you even know where I live? Creep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not letting you evade that question. I need to make sure you aren’t actually stalking me.”

“My friends live next door. You’re always banging on the wall telling us to keep it down.”

“Ah, so you’re one of the degenerates. It’s all making sense now.”

“Well you’re on a date with one of the degenerates, so what does that make you?”

“This is not a date.”

“Oh no? Then what is it?”

“We are going to a party.”

“We are going to a party…together. Which is a date.”

“What if I turn around and go home…alone. What is that considered?”

“Come on doll, don’t do that.” She stood there frozen, glaring at him. “Stay for one drink and then, if you want, I’ll take you home.”

“Fine. And stop calling me doll.” They continued walking in silence. Bucky wanted to talk to her but he wasn’t going to risk pissing her off.

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked, breaking the tension.

“Some frat party. I told some people I would make an appearance. It’s not much further.”

“Really, a frat party? I haven’t been to one of those since freshman year.”

“If it helps, it’s one of the nicer frats.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Think of it like a walk down memory lane. You can relive your younger days and impart your wisdom on the underclassmen.”

“Oh, well in that case, I can’t wait!” she said with false enthusiasm. They walked up the sidewalk towards the surprisingly immaculate mansion. The only sign of the fraternity was the three greek letters mounted by the front door. Bucky walked through the entrance like he owned the place. He walked right past the pledges who were collecting entry fees without a blink of an eye and led her into the kitchen which was packed with people. Music from the basement was flowing into the room and there was a crowd circled around a keg, seeking a fresh pour. Bucky pulled two shot glasses out of a drying rack full of dishes and placed them on the counter as he retrieved a flask from his back pocket.

“Whiskey okay?” he asked, as he filled the shot glasses. She nodded and they clinked the glasses together before downing the dark liquor.

“You bring your own liquor to these things?” she asked.

“If you want cheap liquor that’s been poured into a top-shelf bottle, go for it.”

“I’m not complaining, just curious.”

“Call it trust issues.” Before she could ask any other questions, he opened a cooler and pulled out two cans of cheap beer. He swiftly cracked them both and handed one to her. She immediately chugged close to half the can and Bucky looked at her with concern.

“It’s weird being here sober,” she explained.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said. He passed her the flask and she took a quick swig and handed it back to him. He did the same and their night began.

Bucky couldn’t figure out when he’d lost her. They started the night at the beer pong table, defeating every challenger that came their way until they were coerced into playing flip cup. Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised that she was good at drinking games; she was competitive by nature. He had assumed she was always on the field or studying, but she also seemed to have a talent for drinking. Or so he thought.

He heard a roar of cheers coming from the other room and he followed the sound, hoping to find Y/N. And boy did he find her. She was standing on the pool table as “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. started blasting from the speakers. She started dancing on the table like she was in the club, rolling her hips and flipping her hair. She was either completely oblivious to the crowd of fraternity brothers surrounding her makeshift stage or she didn’t care. She dropped her hips low until she was suddenly on all fours doing a cat crawl across the table. Bucky pushed his way through the crowd, determined to get her off the table before she realized what she was doing. As she reached the end of the table she started to make her way back to a standing position. After a few hip gyrations, she bent over to complete another hair flip, only she hadn’t realized the lighting fixture was lower on this side of the table. Bucky saw the scene unfold in slow motion as she flipped her head back and it immediately made contact with the light. The crowd gasped, seemingly concerned, as her body gave out and she fell backwards. Bucky caught her effortlessly in his arms as she went limp and he pulled her off the table and away from the crowd. Despite the scene that had just played out, the music kept playing and people kept drinking as if nothing had happened.

He carried her out to the back porch and he ordered one of the pledges to bring her some water. He lowered her onto the porch step and sat down next to her, keeping his hand around her back to keep her up. She was starting to regain consciousness and as she woke up under Bucky’s arm she squinted at him in confusion.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question. Here, drink some water.”

“Is it drugged?” she asked, before taking a sip from the red solo cup.

“No,” he said emphatically. “Do you really think I would do that?”

She didn’t answer his question and instead finished the cup of water.

“I think I’m just gonna take a quick nap,” she said leaning her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No, no, no. You need to stay awake.”

“Whyyyyy?” she whined.

“Because you might have a concussion.” He felt her weight fall into his shoulder and he pulled her up. “Hey, hey…stay with me,” he said lightly smacking her face to keep her up.

She groaned and looked at him. “You don’t care about me,” she slurred.

“Sure I do. Without you I would have to go out with girls who actually like me. Where’s the fun in that?”

He expected her to laugh at the joke but when she didn’t, he looked down at her to make sure she was okay. She was staring up at him with a look of concentration on her face. He didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt whatever thoughts were racing through her brain.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” she eventually said. “There’s little flecks of green in them.”

He sighed, “You must be really drunk if you’re giving me compliments. Come on, let’s get you home.”

He pulled her up from the porch and she swayed in his arms, not yet able to support her own weight.

“Jump onto my back,” he said.

“What?” she questioned, confusion displayed all over her face.

“Climb on my back and I’ll carry you home.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking another step and stumbling on the grass.

“Come on, it’ll be quicker this way.”

“Fine,” she mumbled. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lowered himself so that she could climb on. She hoisted herself up and Bucky intertwined his arms with her legs to keep her secure.

Bucky carried her with ease and they made it about halfway to her apartment when she spoke up again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why am I being nice to you?” he echoed back, like the question was blasphemous. “Because I like you.”

“But I’m not very nice to you.”

“Oh trust me, I know. But that’s part of what makes you so interesting.”

She became quiet again, resting her head on his shoulder, “You falling asleep back there?”

“Nooo…” she groaned.

“Better not be,” he teased. “We’re almost there.” He picked up the pace a little more, knowing she was growing tired. When he reached her building, he gently returned her to the ground and steadied her.

“Do you have your keys?” he asked. She handed them over to him and he opened the door to the building and offered his hand to Y/N. She gave him a low five and walked inside. He chuckled to himself, even after a head injury she still had sass. She stopped in front of her apartment door and Bucky found the next key needed to open the apartment. She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow her in.

She sat down on the couch and he walked into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

“You know, you don’t know me,” she said out of nowhere.

“I think I know more than you think,” he countered.

“Yeah, like what?”

He sat down next to her on the sofa. “I know that you like indie music but you also like classic rock from the 70s. While you aren’t the poster child for school spirit, you almost always find time to go to other teams games. You don’t like any condiments on your hot dogs. You turn everything into a competition. And I know that you don’t care about what anyone thinks about you, which I find incredibly attractive.”

Her gaze shifted and she leaned in a little closer to him, “You aren’t as vile as I thought you were…”

“Sometimes if you give people a chance, they surprise you,” he smiled at her, “Well I should get going.”

“I think…” she placed a hand on his thigh, “you should stay.” She glanced down towards his lips and her face inched closer to his.

Bucky took in a deep breath, feeling knots in his stomach and what he was about to do. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He cleared his throat and softly said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea." Her eyes connected with his and she pulled back, a flicker of embarrassment on her face that quickly turned to rage.

“Fine, then get out,” she said with venom. She stood up and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, but knew it was the right call. He couldn’t make a move on her when she was either drunk or concussed. It didn’t feel right. But now he would have to find a way to reopen the door that was just slammed in his face.

Before leaving, Bucky slid a note under her roommate’s door, letting her know about the potential concussion. He just wanted to make sure someone kept an eye on her.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes fanfic

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lunafoster · 1 year

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Dead talking

Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of a dead character(s), mentions of Kaz’s trauma, mentions of reader being small, mentions of life in the streets (if you squint), not beta read, English is not my first language (sorry).

Word count: 500+

A knock was heard from the door and he replied almost in autopilot.

“What business?”

The girl came in with a wary look, taking her time to observe the room before her eyes landed on him. She looked small, fragile, her hands shaking as she took a few steps towards him.

“I’m here for the job?” She questioned more than stated, “I’ve heard you needed someone who could provide you with unreachable information.”

“And what do you have to offer, miss…?” He trailed off, waiting for her to give him a name.

“I’m what one would call a witch,” she said, looking away for a second before meeting his eyes fiercely, as if daring him to question her.

“Grisha? What kind?” He ignored the fact that she hadn’t answered his implied question.

“Not exactly that…” she searched for the right words under his hard gaze, “just a witch.”

“How so? What kind of witch are you, then?” He looked skeptical, not trusting the woman -the girl- at all.

“I read cards, bones. Sometimes act as a medium. I- I can communicate with spirits, sir,” she wasn’t boasting, and her body language told him she was speaking the truth -or what she believed was the truth.

“Which means you know more about everyone than what they tell you, am I right?” He raised an eyebrow as she nodded shakily.

“Show me, then.”

She carefully approached his desk, sitting herself on the chair in front of it and extending a hand towards him.

Kaz stared at her hand for a couple of seconds. He took it into his own, swallowing a shudder at the contact of her skin against the leather of his gloves.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she took a deep breath in. When she spoke, it sounded like multiple voices where exiting her throat.

“Rietveld, Kaz Rietveld. We know him. We know his brother. Jordie? Yes, Jordie,” he swallowed at the mention of his brother’s name, but willed himself to keep holding onto her hand even if the waters were rising to his waist.

“What happened?” The question sounded like it was hers, with her voice more prominent among the others.

“The Queen’s Plague,” that was his brother’s voice, unmistakable even after all these years.

He didn’t want to hear more, the waters up to his throat, almost drowning him. Kaz let go of her hand.

“That’s enough,” and he berated himself for sounding so shaken up.

When she looked at him again, her gaze was soft and her smile was sad. His own hardened at that and he coughed a couple of times to calm the tide around him.

“Your abilities will be helpful in the future,” he decided. After all, who didn’t want someone who was able to discover information only the dead had access to?

She smiled more openly now, but it fell from her face as soon as it appeared.

“Will I have a place to stay, then?” She asked, voice full of hope.

Dirtyhands had taken notice of her ripped and old clothes when she entered his office, her state proving the lack of a single good meal in her body.

“You will,” Kaz assured her, “as long as you pledge your loyalty to the Dregs and run by me all the information you reunite by the end of each day.”

“Of course, Mr. Brekker.”

“Kaz.”

“Kaz,” she repeated with a gentle smile.

#kaz brekker #shadow and bone #the crows #the dregs #six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #platonic #female reader #witch #medium #spirits #dead!jordie #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse

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iwantmystupidlifeback · 6 months

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Vessel x reader (touch me)

His dark lips gently moved over my face not like a kiss but the way a cat will rub against your legs. He was feeling you in such an intimate way. Nothing of lust or greed or out of gain in his game. Your body rest across his right arm bend having your head in his forearm his Palm felt your hair and held your bare neck not in a grip but in a way to keep you still. Other hand was moving along your body over your shoulder to your hip. He was like an archeologist. As if he has discovered an ancient item but an item of gold. He worshipped his goddess sleep with nothing but loyalty with an undying love. But as you laid before him. He felt a connection a need. Nothing to gain or lose. He understood his goddess and even tho he could never hold her or see her he valued the women she brought to him. He was loyal but wanted more and to have you here made him so hypnotized,lost, lured into a dangerous dangerous trap. He refused to speak. The way you laid so relax so trusting so beautifully made a faint very very faint smile rest on his lips. From the color of your eyes down to the color of your hair to the length it was if the goddess herself had laid in his arms. He held no power no goal nothing. Just you letting him touch you letting his dark lips hands and body touch you felt like a sin you giving an aura of white then him head to toe in blackness. He could only marvel at you. He desperately wanted to sink into you. A need he never knew until now as everything around him was blurry your face was all his focus. He felt ashamed to even look to your body in amazement. If you were a statue he put you on the same alter as his beloved goddess ask the goddess to use you as a vessel for his own selfish desires. He knew his thoughts were selfish. He knew his mind was pledged with very unclean and dangerous thoughts. A possession comes over him as he leans closer lips kissing your cheek following down to your shoulder. Your soft skin against his lips made him so so greedy. He wanted to kill for you or die for you. He wanted to speak but his tongue was so trapped by you and you laid here silent in his arms not even speaking or looking at him managing to leave him speechless a man with so much to say and sing about left wordless to your presents. He wanted to beg to you. He held you in the flesh and bone and yet he needed to know you were real that you were alive. He brought his hand up speaking lowly “ open your eyes” when you listened he next to wanted to tell you to close them again his chest tightened and he felt overwhelmed by you. You know looking up at him made his mind blank his face under the mask complete in awe of you. Knowing you allowed a man who is far from what you need hold you made him just so possessive but angry you so much better,so so beautiful, so prefect. It made him angry to know you aren’t kept locked away like how people put gold in safes how countries hide their relicts in big building keeping guard to protect what is so precious. How he wished to keep you like this forever. His eyes meet yours. Hid with no color but wanting to absorb your color eyes. He lean closer inches from your face. You could hear him breathe you could read his eyes completely understand him, gently you touch his mask moving to connect lips with him the motion alone almost made him fall. But he returned the kiss., kissing you like as soon as he let go death herself was going to grab him by the robe dragging him away to a darker realm. His hand held the back of your neck possessively as his other cup your cheek. He held his breath just wanted you to never pull back but you do with a gasp and a smile that brought him almost to tears. He never tell a soul if he could keep you. He write in the holy text of your control of your beautiful soul. How he wished you to know his goddess and how he wished his goddess was you.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token #vessel x reader #vessel #vessel x you #vessel x y/n #vessel sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fic #sleep token x gender neutral reader #sleep token gun #what I dream of #I love vessel

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 years

Text

O Tsaritsa

Synopsis: Childe's loyalty to his Archon is unshakable, one of the surest things he's ever known. But perhaps in the end, he'll forsake her for you.

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Fluff, Comfort Warnings: Battle, mentions of drowning and falling, crying, and nervousness

~ * ~ O Tsaritsa, protect us from the world with walls of ice and snow. Ajax knew the importance of his nation’s Archon, as all children do. The Lady of Eternal Winters, the Cold Maiden, the God of Love- she went by many names, yet all know her official title by heart- The Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon, Her Royal Highness of Snezhnaya. His father would tell him stories by the fireplace, playfully ruffling his son’s gingery hair as he weaved tales of Her Majesty; in battle, amongst the other gods, sitting upon her crystalline throne of frost. Ajax would sit in the opposite chair, eyes wide with awe and oblivious to his father’s quiet chuckles. He was too young to know the meaning of loyalty, yet still passion burned in his heart as he proclaimed that the Tsaritsa must be the best of the Seven, if all those stories were true. And his parents would smile, patting his head before asking him to come help with preparing dinner- fish, the family’s favorite. O Tsaritsa, give me strength in times of need, when I feel like falling forever. He was 14 when his childhood ended. He had merely been looking for adventure, a precocious child who deemed his easy life at home boring, slow, monotonous. He had only intended to run away- just for a little bit- for some fun and excitement, before returning home at sundown to be tucked neatly into bed, dreaming the same simple dreams he always did. But Ajax had slipped, and tumbled, and fell, down through a mysterious crack in the earth. It was scary- terrifying even- back then, thinking he was going to die and that no one would find his corpse, because who in Teyvat would want to climb down into a seemingly endless drop of darkness? Even his family didn’t love him that much. Somehow, he didn’t die. Instead he landed with a splash that echoed far into the distance, into water deep enough to swim in, sword still clutched desperately in his hands. It was only after he floundered to shore and lay there a while, wheezing and coughing up water, that he noticed the speckles of light adorning the walls and ground like miniature stars and the faint sound of howling- wind or beast, he couldn’t tell. The sun was nowhere in sight. In the coming years he would speak to no one about the horrors of underground, the creatures that lurked amongst the ruins of a decaying kingdom, or the countless, bloody battles he had to endure. He felt so much older, even though his parents said he was missing for only three days, and with that age came the loss of everything but a horrible need to experience the sensation of fighting for his life again, fingers itching to take up some weapon, any weapon, and fight. His father sent him to the Fatui, and Ajax didn’t care, only desiring to surpass everyone in terms of bloodshed, something in his mind humming in satisfaction whenever another opponent was defeated. Soon, Ajax was dead, and the Eleventh Harbinger Tartaglia was born. O Tsaritsa, I pledge my everlasting loyalty to you and this nation alone. An assignment once sent him to Liyue, a warm land all the way across the sea. It was an important mission- perhaps the most important he’s ever known, and Tartaglia preens at the fact that he, specifically, was chosen. It’s with smug satisfaction that he counts off all the correct steps, watching the bank-goers fuss over debt and mora. Accounts and money were never really his thing- Pantalone was more suited- so soon enough Tartaglia’s eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from the last few days of nonstop moving and talking. Only they snap back open when someone strides up to the desk and sets down a bag of mora, greeting Ekaterina with a friendly wave. You never really cared if the Northland Bank was associated with the Fatui or not- their services were excellent, convenient, and Ekaterina had become a close friend. So it was with ease and confidence that you stride into the building, waving to Ekaterina and setting your funds on the desk. Your personal philosophy has always been to save most of what you earn from work, and you chat with Ekaterina as she takes your mora to deposit into your account. She’s on for lunch tomorrow- a small tradition you had formed together- and with a smile and another wave she bids you good day and farewell. When you turn, you meet the gaze of an unfamiliar man in gray, and are momentarily stunned by his deep, lightless blue eyes, before giving him a cordial nod and meandering on your way. Tartaglia curiously watches you leave, blinking in confusion when he hears a murmur in the back of his mind, the Foul Legacy he’s become so accustomed to rumbling in interest. The Harbinger turns to Ekaterina when she returns, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. “Who was that?” O Tsaritsa, this curiosity burns like never before, am I foolish for following it? He sees you more in the following weeks, coming in to deposit your pay or chat with Ekaterina, head held high. It’s strange, to see someone from Liyue walk into the bank without a look of worry or despair painted across their face, and at times he wonders if you’re even aware of the Bank’s connections with the Fatui at all. But the way you fuss with Ekaterina’s mask proves otherwise, always straightening and centering it on her face, the receptionist happier than Tartaglia had ever seen. Ah, he forgot that a majority of his coworkers are, at heart, regular people trying to earn their keep who’ve never touched a weapon in their lives. It’s by pure coincidence that you meet face-to-face one night, around dinnertime. You’re the one treating Ekaterina this time- Archons only know how stressed she’s been recently, even if she never says anything, and you’re pulling her along when your feet betray you and force you to stumble backwards. With a sharp inhale you rush to cover your head in anticipation of the fall, but instead you land against something considerably softer than the floor, leaning diagonally. When you look up, your gaze is filled with a vivid, familiar cobalt. Ekaterina rushes to your side, one apology after another pouring from her lips as she helps you up and looks worriedly at the person you ran into, but the man simply laughs and waves her off. With a charming grin he sticks his hand towards you, smile only widening when you politely take it. His name is Childe. You offer him a smile of your own, and Ekaterina watches, awed, behind you. O Tsaritsa, these feelings are new and raw, yet I want to know more, more, more. Childe finds himself attached quickly- too quickly, perhaps, if he was thinking straight- but around you, such a notion was impossible. You, who cared little for the reputation of both the Qixing and the Fatui, greeting everyone with equal respect. You, who acted as an unofficial tour guide of the Harbor, showing Childe the best places to eat and sightsee, even your own personal favorites. You, who didn’t flinch even the slightest bit when he confessed his position as a Harbinger. You- stunning, amazing, perfect; words that came to Childe’s mind when he thought of you, even if others couldn’t see it the same way. Foul Legacy likes you too, perhaps even more than Childe, always purring and cooing at the sight of you strolling into the bank- It’s only by enormous willpower that the Harbinger prevents Foul Legacy from taking over his form, just to experience the sensation of holding your gentle hand in his claws. The Abyssal monster whines and, in defeat, retreats to the recess of Childe’s mind to sulk for the rest of the day, and Childe has to hold back a smug smile of triumph. When the time comes to carry out his oh-so important mission for the Tsaritsa, he almost detests how he has to slip away from your company early, donning the mask of Tartaglia to confront the Traveler. Foul Legacy’s ravenous, enraged from a combination of being deceived and the lack of time spent with you that day, yet the Traveler prevails nonetheless and forces a weakened Tartaglia to summon an old god, the Overlord of the Vortex. The Harbor will drown, but Tartaglia- Childe- can only think of you, and desperately he hopes you get to a safe location, somewhere away from the sea. His heart sings in relief when he finds you standing beside Ekaterina in the Bank, but it quickly sinks when you glance at him and march over, a furious expression on your face as you swiftly land a smart punch to his shoulder. Childe staggers, regret already pooling in his stomach, but steadies when your arms suddenly wrap around his waist, your face against his shoulder as you tell him through muffled words to never do that again, or he’ll kill you from worry. Although weak, Foul Legacy purrs contentedly as Childe hesitantly rests his own hands on your back, and he swears a few purrs slip from his own mouth when your grip tightens. O Tsaritsa, allow me to indulge in this happiness a bit longer. Everybody in Liyue hates him now, the scapegoat in the Fatui’s plans. As he took the blame, La Signora bartered with Rex Lapis for his Gnosis before leaving without a care in the world, leaving Tartaglia betrayed and despised by everyone in a nation. Everyone except you and perhaps the Traveler, the latter of which only puts up with him for weekly sparring. It’s the same this week, every week- but although he’s hated and away from home and his god and fights to his near death with the Harbor’s golden-haired savior, Childe couldn’t be happier. You’re by his side, and that alone makes him and Foul Legacy smile like the sunrise breaking over glittering waves. Every week, he fights the Traveler, and every week, you wait for him outside the Golden House. You made a pinkie promise, after all. This week, however, you’re early. Not only early, you’re curious- you know Childe- Ajax, he said to call him, when it’s just the two of you- is an excellent fighter, and despite your lackluster knowledge of battle you want to see him spar, want to see the way he’ll inevitably twist it into a beautiful performance of Hydro and Electro. With a single hand you push the door to the Golden House open and immediately let out a yelp as you slide several meters down, the top floor already out of commission from Childe and the Traveler’s battle. You land in a pile of mora, the coins scattering around your feet and going entirely unnoticed as you stare in amazement at the fight unfolding before your eyes. The Traveler looks the same, not even the slightest bit scratched, but their opponent is an enormous monster, adorned in violet and black armor with what looks like a shimmering celestial cape, and a bloodred mask with two horns and one shining blue eye. Your heart beats suddenly when you realize that the beast is Childe- it must be- and you press a hand to your chest in an attempt to calm it. It’s a hectic, ferocious battle, but you’ve come only at the tail end and soon the Traveler strikes the final blow, Childe letting out a screech of defeat and slumping to his knees, breathing heavily. The barrier around the arena flickers then dissipates, and without thinking you shove the coins away and sprint over to the monster, ignoring the Traveler’s shock when they see you. Foul Legacy squeaks when he sees you, nervousness flaring suddenly when you approach. He refuses to meet your eyes when your run slows to a jog, too ashamed and frightened because what will you say? Surely you wouldn’t love him like this, he was foolish to think you ever would. You love Childe, the human, the Harbinger, not Childe, the creature from the darkest depths of Teyvat. You’re close enough to touch him now, and he shrinks away with a soft whimper, hunching his body over in an attempt to appear smaller, less threatening. Something soft rests on his knee, and he looks down to see you pressing your hands against it, looking up at him with nothing but worry. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” Oh. Oh. The concern and affection in your voice makes him sob, and he turns so he can face you properly, cape-like wings limp on the elegant flooring. You stay still as stone as Childe reaches, hands hovering just beside your head, before you press your face into his palms with a comforting hum. Tears drip down his cheeks which you carefully wipe away, admiring how his crystalline eye slips shut as purrs begin to filter from his chest. Foul Legacy doesn’t remember ever being this relaxed, this cared for- not while he was controlling their shared body, anyway, and subconsciously his clawed hand twitches in a need to pull you close and hold you forever. But suddenly you slip your smaller, more fragile hand into his, and Foul Legacy stares before gently closing his talons overtop of it, almost chittering in delight when you close the remaining distance with a few quick steps and lean your head against his chest, accepting and loving every part of what makes up your beloved Childe. With your opposite hand you hold his cheek, eyes glittering at the way he leans into the touch desperately, like a man starved, and by standing on your toes you’re able to press a small kiss to Foul Legacy’s forehead. His jaw drops, revealing his deadly, adorable fangs, and with a warbling trill he hides his face with his hands and the lavender fluff that adorns his shoulders, only able to let out flustered squeaks as your kind laughter fills the air, hand finding its purchase in his locks of coppery hair. Foul Legacy chirps, embarrassed, but not even he can conceal the smile that spreads across his mask-like face when you give him a hug, so similar to the one after he summoned Osial yet so much better because he feels like he’s home with you, who holds his heart and cherishes it more than all the power in the world. Home is where his heart is, and Snezhnaya is home no longer. O Tsaritsa, forgive me, for I’ve betrayed you and my nation, and fallen in love.

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arc-misadventures · 11 months

Note

Dragon Faunus au: can I please ask for Jaune finding out who it was stalking him and confronting them?

Mobile Easel

Jaune: So… Pray tell… Why are you here? Definitely not for the sights I take it.

Sienna: I came to meet you, your Grace.

Jaune: Ahh… So it’s more dragon related faunas crap. Peachy.

Sienna: Is that a surprise, your Grace?

Jaune: No, but I do find it uncomfortable. I feel like some sort of zoo exhibit. And, please don’t call me your grace, king, or whatever silly titles you can possibly give me. Jaune is just fine.

Sienna: Very well then. So it seems you have accepted your nature as a faunas, I heard you were denying it, and posing as a human.

Jaune: That’s not true… entirely. I never hid the fact I was a faunas from anyone, I just don’t have any visible traits that scream: ‘Hey, that guy is a faunas!’ My teeth, as well as my talons are retractable so no one would notice them. And, unless I was breathing fire would anyone notice that?

Sienna: Fair point, if I had worn a hat you would have thought I was a human.

Jaune: Yes, a human with some nice looking stripe tattoos.

Sienna: Those are not tattoos.

Jaune: Really? Well they still look nice.

Sienna: Thank you.

Jaune: Well, it doesn’t matter whether those faunas traits are visible, or not. I can’t hide what’s coming next.

Sienna: Are you developing a new trait? That’s impossible!

Jaune: Hey, I already have three traits, most faunas only have one. How’s that for impossible?

Sienna: You are a rarity of rarities among faunas… I suppose you gaining another trait isn’t something to be unexpected. What is this new trait you are developing?

Jaune: Horns. I’m growing horns.

Sienna: Horns? Let me see…

Jaune: Wait, hold on now!

Sienna moved in a flash, moving mear inches from, Jaune’s face, as she held up his hair to display the two mounds forming on either side of his head.

Sienna: Well that’s certainly interesting. Most faunas would be showing signs of growing horns when they were at least ten years old, but to be growing them at seventeen. That is quite… interesting…

Cerulean gazed into amber, and amber gazed into cerulean. The duo stood there for a moment, their eyes locked upon one another as a deep blush spread across their faces. What felt like an age past before the two realized their position to one another, and jumped back away from one other. The blushes upon their faces slowly fading away.

Sienna: I’m sorry for that, it’s just the fact you have so many faunas traits, and the fact you have more to come is quite impressive.

Jaune: Hopefully it’s the last, I’m tired of being the circus freak.

Sienna: So you would not be upset if you heard that I was sent here to confirm whether, or not you were the dragon faunas of legend who would be crowned king of the faunas, and would lead his people into a golden age of prosperity for all faunas, and the world itself?

Jaune: Uhh… No, no I would not. Blake Belladonna has already told me a thing, or two about all that kingly stuff. But, aren’t you the high leader of the, White Fang, who commands you to do anything?

Sienna: On principle, no one. They may recommend, and advise me on various courses of action. But, at the end of it all it is my decision on what I shall do. Or, it was…

Jaune: Was?

Sienna: You are my, King. Whatever your command is, I will obey.

Jaune: Seriously?! I’ve known your for half an hour! Why are you pledging your undying loyalty to me?!

Sienna: Oh, but I have been here for days. Observing you since your match with, Mercury. And, I have become quite found of what I have seen so far.

Jaune: W-What have you seen?

Sienna: For starters…?

Nora: Big bro!

Jaune: Oh hi, Nora. Need something?

Nora: Just wanted to call you, ‘big bro!’ Hehehe~! I love that I get to call you that~!

Jaune: Right back at you, lil sis.

Nora: This is amazing~!

Pyrrha: Ahhh… Is it just me, or was she faster then, Ruby just now?

Ren: If you think that was fast, you should see her on a caffeine high.

Pyrrha: I would rather not.

Ren: No, no you don’t…

Nora: Hey, whose the kitty lady?

Jaune: Nora, may I introduce you to Sienna Khan. Mrs. Khan, this is Nora Valkyrie Arc, my little sister, and teammate.

Nora: Hello~! Can I pet your ears?

Sienna: Hello, and no you can not…

Nora: Naww…

Sienna: And, its Ms. Khan. Not, Mrs.

Jaune: Oh sorry. Ms. Khan.

Sienna: Sienna is fine, Jaune~!

Jaune: Okay… This is my teammate, Lie Ren.

Ren: Nice to meet you, Ma’am.

Sienna: A pleasure.

Jaune: And, lastly we have my partner, Pyrrha Nikos, and together the four of us make up, Team JNPR! Ya!

NPR: YA!

Sienna: It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of you, Ms. Nikos. I have heard of your…? (Sniff, Sniff.) Hmm…?

Pyrrha: Is something wro… EEP!

As, Sienna held, Pyrrha’s hand she suddenly pulled her towards her, and held, Pyrrha there for a moment, allowing, Sienna a chance to smell her. As, Pyrrha pulled away she could see a thirsty smile spread across the tigers face as she looked to her, and then to, Jaune.

Sienna: I see… So you’ve claimed her as your own. How interesting.

Pyrrha: Bwa?! WawawawaWHAT?!!

Jaune: You can smell that?!

Sienna: Easily.

Jaune: I thought faunas couldn’t pick up on my sent due to various hierarchical reasons?!

Ren: Hierarchical reasons?

Jaune: I’ll explain later… (Sniff, sniff!) It’s very confusing. But, answer the question!

Pyrrha: Y-Yeah! How do you know that we… did it?

Sienna: It’s more of a female faunas thing. We female faunas, particularly the older ones among us can tell certain… things about woman who have been claimed by a male. I can’t pick up your sent, Jaune, but I can pick up the ‘mark’ you placed upon her.

Pyrrha: WHAT?!

Jaune: Damn faunas, and our incredibly powerful noses!

Ren: Well, that explains why everyone was shooting death glares at, Pyrrha lately. Well, more so than usual.

Nora: Ohohoh! What do I smell like?!

Sienna: Syrup.

Nora: Nice!

Jaune: Haa… So why are you here exactly…? Oh yeah: More pledges of undying loyalty…

Ren: Is this one any different compared to the rest of them; can’t you just decline it like usual?

Jaune: Partly; She may be a single faunas, but she represents thousands of faunas. For, Sienna is the High Leader of the White Fang.

Ren: Ahh, she isn’t just anyone you can say no to.

Jaune: Precisely. So, then we have to do things that prove you’re worth for my trust.

Sienna: Prove my worth?

Jaune: Yes, your worth. I don’t trust blindly; as a businessman, and a leader, you must prove there is worth to me putting my trust in you. (Sniff.) Understood?

Sienna: Earn your trust? That seems perfectly reasonable, tell me, Jaune how can I, and to a greater extent prove our worth to you?

Jaune: You can first start off with why you are spying on me; I understand it’s because of the whole dragon king bullshit. But nonetheless, why are you spying on me?

Sienna: Spying?! I have given no order to spy upon you? In fact I gave the exact opposite order for our operatives to leave you alone.

Jaune: You haven’t? Then why is, Kali Belladonna here?

Sienna: She is the wife to, Ghiria Belladonna, the Chieftain of Menagerie. It’s only natural for her to come here, and see if the rumours of a dragon faunas are true.

Jaune stared down the cat faunas as he sniffed the air. The air of confidence, and assurance in the truth of her own words were etched across her face. And, yet…

Jaune: If that be true then explain this: Team JNPR!

NPR: Yes!

Jaune raised his hand and pointed to a tree near the edge of walkway, and simply said three words.

Jaune: Mobile Easel: GO!

In three seconds three scrolls were pulled out of their respective owners pockets. In a second a single button was pressed. And, in five seconds, three standard issue rocket lockers crashed into the ground before them.

As quick as a flash, Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha each rushed to their respective lockers, and grabbed their gear, and did as Hunter’s do. They hunted their quarry.

Jaune: Nora! Fire one round behind the tree! Force them out of their hiding spot!

As her fearless-leader/older brother commanded, Nora fired a single round from her rotary-grenade launcher. The round impacted behind the tree forcing some black clad individual to pop out from behind it.

Jaune: Pyrrha, open fire on them, don’t let them get away! Ren, charge them!

Listen to their leaders instructions, Pyrrha changed her spear into it’s rifle form, and started firing upon their uninvited guest. The rounds struck true, and prevented them from fleeing, giving, Ren the time to close the distance, and engage in close quarters combat.

The spy was apparently more skilled at fleeing than fighting, for they could barely last a few seconds before they were knocked to the ground by, Ren’s swift onslaught of attacks. There they lay, defeated. Nora quickly ran over, and threw the spy over her shoulder like a bag of rice before dumping them in front of, Jaune with a pained groan.

Jaune: Excellent job team! They won’t know what’ll hit ‘em come the, Vytal Festival if we can keep this up!

Nora: That was AWESOME!!!

Pyrrha: I must admit, that was quite exhilarating.

Ren: I’m surprised we reacted that fast, I thought we would have a harder time with such a quick response.

Jaune: But, you didn’t. So excellent job guys! Now then… Who are you…?

Jaune pushed over their spy with his foot. They had brown skin, and wearing a black bodysuit. Their long brown hair done up in a ponytail, but what stood out the most to, Jaune was the white mask with horns she wore upon her face.

A Grimm mask, often worn by the members of the, White Fang.

Jaune: Interesting… So, the White Fang is following me, and you said they weren’t. Care to explain yourself, Ms. Khan?

Sienna: Ilia…

Jaune: Beg pardon?

Sienna: Her name is, Ilia Amitola.

Pyrrha: And, you know that because?

Sienna: She is as you said, a member of the, White Fang. She’s a chameleon faunas; She can change her skins natural pigment to whatever colour she wants. Because of this we use her to spy on others.

Jaune: She can change the colour of her skin? Well, that explains why she smells like oil paints.

Sienna: You smelt her out?

Jaune: Yes I did, this smell isn’t hard to miss. Now then, what was that bit about not spying on me?

Sienna: I’m not, I swear!

Jaune: This says otherwise.

Sienna: She may be spying on you for another faction within the, White Fang. Probably trying to see where your allegiances are, and if they could sway you to their side.

Pyrrha: Factions? I thought you were the, High Leader, shouldn’t they listen to your commands?

Sienna: I am the High Leader! It appears there are those among the, White Fang who need a reminder on who is in charge…

Jaune: Let’s start here then shall we? Hey, wake up!

Jaune slapped the sleeping faunas who slowly started to rouse herself from sleep.

Ilia: W-What…? W-Where am…?! Oh no…!

Sienna: Hello, Ilia… Care to explain what you’re doing here?

Ilia: Sight seeing…?

Jaune: And, I’m the sight to see, no?

Ilia: N-No… Ghak?!

Sienna grabbed, Ilia by the scruff of her neck, and held her in the air. A fierce gaze burned in her eyes, as she stared the quivering little girl.

Sienna: Considering I gave the orders that I would be meeting the dragon king alone, I expected them to be carried out! But, for some reason you are here, care to explain that?!

Ilia’s body seemed to literally turn white from fear, no doubt her unique faunas trait coming into play. Nora couldn’t help, but give a soft ‘aww’ as she saw this interesting display, while the others just watched on as, Sienna imposed her place within the faunas hierarchy.

Sienna: Answer me you pathetic little welp! I know you would have never sought him out yourself, you pathetic little dyke! Who sent you!

Ilia: T-T-The Albain Brother’s! T-They sent me to see if it was true! If the dragon king was real!

Sienna: Ahh… Those wretched bastards…

Ilia: Ooph?!

Without fanfare, Sienna unceremoniously dropped, Ilia on the ground as an unamused frown spread across her face.

Jaune: Friends of yours?

Sienna: Religious zealots is what they are! Always preaching about the good of the faunas in a holier than thou tone. Their personality is utterly unbearable.

Jaune: Would they also drop to the floor before me, and start worshiping me, praising me as this god I supposedly am?

Sienna: Most likely.

Jaune: So if I ever met them they would be the ones erecting statues, and murals of me for my supposed divinity?

Sienna: It wouldn’t surprise me if they haven’t already done that.

Jaune: Well… That sounds bother some…

Sienna: They would probably try, and wipe up the faunas, and rile them up to committing a holy war in your name.

Jaune: S-Seriously…?

Sienna: They are part of the more fanatical militant arm of the, White Fang. They already have been trying to force me to committing to such a course of action. While I admit that I am willing to attack enemies of the faunas that have slighted us. The Schnee Dust Company, and Atlas for example. But, they would be more open to attack civilians indiscriminately, to show people that faunas are to be feared. Such a course of action will only make more enemies of the faunas as a whole, and not just the, White Fang. With you however, they will try all the more harder to do so, and the likely hood of such a course of action happening is all the more likely.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Fuuuuuuuuuuck! I don’t wanna do this… but, they’re leaving me no choice…

Pyrrha: Do what, Jaune?

Jaune: I have to align myself with, Sienna, and Mrs. Belladonna. Dammit! I didn’t want to take part in this!

Ren: Who says you have to join them? Can’t you stay on the sidelines like you have already been doing?

Jaune: No, if I align myself with, Kali Belladonna it says I am looking towards a peaceful coexistence with humans, and general peace. Aligning myself with, Sienna will show that I do support the, White Fang, but I don’t favour its more violent aspects. People may still worship me as a god, but they will know that I do not like it. So there numbers will be less than if I adopt a more neutral position.

Ren: And, you can easily push for more favourable outcomes if you adopt their sides of the argument than the, Albain Brothers?

Pyrrha: But, is that really better? The White Fang are still militaristic.

Jaune: True. But, what would you rather align yourself with: A militant group, or a fanatical militant group?

Pyrrha: The militant group.

Jaune: Precisely. I will choose the lesser of two evils. On top of that I can curtail their more violent habits, no?

Sienna: I will do as you command.

Jaune: Good! Now there’s only one thing left to deal with! You… Ilia…

Ilia: Y-Y-Yes your, Grace…?

Jaune: How long have you been following me?

Ilia: For about two weeks…

Jaune: So you were there when I was at the, CCT Tower.

Ilia: I wasn’t ther… Gack?!

Jaune’s hand was on, Ilia’s throat, pushing her body against the ground. He stood above her, his other hand held high as he flexed his fingers revealing the talons he hid beneath them. Ilia’s body paled to a ghostly white as he stared at the terrified little faunas below him.

Jaune: Don’t lie to me! I picked up your sent there, and I’ve been looking for it ever since! So were you there or not!

Ilia: I-I-I was there!

Jaune: And, did you hear anything?

Ilia: W-What…?

Jaune: Did you overhear the conversation I was having!!

Ilia: N-N-No! You finished your call as soon as I entered the room!

Jaune: Is that the truth?!

Ilia: I uhh… A-Air!

Jaune: I said: Is that the TRUTH!!!

Jaune opened his mouth, and snapped his teeth together, letting everyone see the fangs that lie within his mouth, as jets of fire shot out of the sides inches from, Ilia’s face. It was a truly fearsome sight to behold, one clearly showing the contained rage the, Dragon King held in check, one that no wanted to be on the receiving side of. Ilia displayed this fact as she promptly fainted from being on the receiving end of, Jaune’s furious visage.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Oops… I went a little too far…

Pyrrha: Damn that was hot…

Sienna: That can certainly get your engine purring~!

Ren: Understandable considering the circumstances.

Nora: Whoo! Do it again!

Sienna: What circumstances?

Jaune: That is none of your business…

Sienna: I see…

Jaune: Well, good talking with you, Sienna. I think we have other things to attend to. I’ll live you to deal with your… associate. Till later.

Sienna: Till later, Jaune.

As, Team JNPR made their away from the faunas duo, Ren fell into step with his team leader to ask him some pressing questions.

Ren: Are you alright?

Jaune: Somewhat. It appears she didn’t hear about the conversation I had with my sisters, but until I know if he has any traits… There is much to worry about…

Ren: What about your breathing?

Jaune: My breathing; What about it?

Ren: You may have smelt, Ilia out, but you were still sniffing heavily. Is something wrong?

Jaune: Damn you noticed that! I thought I was hiding that better.

Ren: You were, but most people tend to focus on the eyes, than the nose. What were you smelling?

Jaune: Sienna. I was smelling, Sienna.

Ren: Oh… Is this the same thing that you’ve been dealing with, with Ms. Goodwitch?

Jaune: Yep…

Ren: Oh… It doesn’t appear like you had the same reaction to her as you did, Ms. Goodwitch though.

Jaune: I know what I’m smelling, I won’t have such a violent reaction. I hope…

Ren: We can only hope that.

Jaune: I don’t like the fact I can sniff people out like that. Oh well… I’ll just look to the bright side in all of this mess.

Ren: And, that would be?

Jaune: That I’ve got good taste~!

Ren: …

Ren: Okay then…

///

Hahahaha!!! Haaaaa…

It’s finished… This has been sitting in my draft for at least a month…

But, it is finished!

Now I have to finish all the other ones…

Nerts…

#rwby #jaune arc #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #sienna khan #ilia amitola #glynda goodwitch #kali belladonna #blake belladonna #ghira belladonna

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argisthebulwark · 22 days

Note

Your last post but also Erandur. Erandur who loves tld so much more than hes ever loved mara it's honestly a little scary. Erandur whos torn between "i should love mara most of all" and "no, mara would want me to find a love like this its what shes all about." Erandur who, when absolutly and totally and completely lost in fucking tld, doesn't even realize his moaned words of praise have become "rewritten" prayers to mara, in which he's saying tld's name instead of mara's.

I need this priest so bad he's doing something to me

oh fuck you're right!!! again, this one's nsft. minors shouldn't read or interact. i just wanna fuck that priest so bad man.

"This is not right," Erandur groaned the words against your skin, damning himself yet fully unable to stop. He was intoxicated on the scent of you, enraptured by your hips rolling against his and the breathy sounds you made with each new touch.

"Is this wrong?" You asked and the priest knew he should cease this. He'd long ago pledged his heart to Lady Mara - she was his savior, the guiding light that had kept him sane on his darkest days. He had vowed to hold no other above her but the sight of you spread before him, limbs wound together and promises whispered in the dead of night, he found proper prayer difficult.

"Yes." Erandur agreed, though it did little to deter him from tasting your skin once more. Lips danced over your chest and he marveled at your reaction; back arching, fingers digging deeper into the back of his robes. He knew you wanted more of him and gods, he wanted nothing more than to give you every shred of himself.

"Should we stop?" Peering at him through your lashes, he knew. Despite the thick haze of arousal you were offering him an exit. Erandur's eyes wandered along the expanse of your throat and the soft swell of your lips and found that damning himself once more was fairly easy.

"Lady Mara, forgive my transgressions."

"You can pray if that would help," your kind words did not ease the guilt, though Erandur was fairly sure he was beyond salvation. Lady Mara would want him to find a love like this, but how would she punish him for daring to hold you above her? Would she strike down a pious believer for loving you so dearly?

"It is only you that I want." Your lips on his skin, your hands pressing him into the soft mattress, your body clambering upon his. Your little gasp was far better than any hymn when your hips settled against his, a gentle rhythm dragging out every filthy sound he was capable of.

"By your words I am renewed, now and forever." He babbled a sacrilegious version of the prayer he'd repeated for so many years. Surely loving you could not be a sin, there was nothing a priest could do more to honor Lady Mara than love so deeply that it hurt. "Sacred love of mine, it is through you that I am remade."

Thank the gods you were slow with him, allowing Erandur to fully savor every second with you. Your head fell back in ecstasy and his own voice rang through the room, a steady and reverent mantra of your name. Not once did he consider Mara - all that he knew was you.

"Glory be yours forever. I will be yours forever."

#asks #anon #skyrim #erandur

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

Text

| The Mark of the Beast |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E chapter word count: 3k total word count: 5k chapter 1 of 2 tags/warnings: dom copia, he's a dickhead, humiliation, inappropriate touching, abuse of authority, hair pulling

An imposter has apparently been hiding in the abbey, and there is only one way to prove you're part of the congregation. And that is to submit yourself to an examination to find Lucifer's mark upon your body.

read on ao3

I sat just outside Sister Imperator’s office, patiently—or not so patiently waiting for my turn. I was last and had spent the entire day on edge, unable to pay attention to my chores or lessons. Nobody had really been able to pay attention, not since this morning’s sermon. And it hadn’t really been a proper one. Papa Terzo had been interrupted halfway through by Sister Imperator, who had rushed in late—a disturbing thing in its own right. Sister Imperator was never late!

Her hurried and whispered words with Papa had left the rest of us whispering in the pews until Papa had turned to face us, looking confused. He had told us we all needed to submit to an inspection—apparently, an imposter was amongst us. Spreading falsehoods and lies about our Dark Father. The whispers had grown even louder then.

Over the next few days, we were all to submit for an examination to confirm that we were all truly siblings of this abbey. And the only way to prove that was for our bodies to be stripped and searched for a mark—the mark of the beast. A mark bestowed upon our skin when we had pledged ourselves to Lucifer. My stomach had twisted just as my hands in my lap did now.

Some of my other sisters had proudly shown me theirs. I had not been a sibling for very long and I had heard a few remarks about them but nobody had ever said that everyone had one! I thought it was something only the higher clergy were gifted with. Last night, I had twisted myself in circles like a dog chasing its tail trying to find some mark upon my body. Anytime I had spotted a blemish I had felt a momentary rush of relief only to realise it was simply another freckle. I had asked Sister Rosaline, whom I shared my room with to check me over and she had found nothing. Her suspicious eyes and cold voice had made me reluctant to ask anyone else.

Would they throw me out? I knew in my heart I was no imposter, and I had taken my vows. But still, my heart was gripped with dread.

The door was suddenly opened and another Sister walked out, giving me a smile before she skipped in the direction of the papal suites. A ghoul followed, not even glancing at me before it slunk down the halls. Sister Imperator soon followed but before she could hurry out her eyes fell on me.

“Sister!” she said, raising a hand to her forehead in surprise. “I thought Sophia was the last one today.” She sighed. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting but I must go speak with Papa Nihil urgently.”

I tried not to let it get to me. “Should I return tomorrow morning?” I asked as I stood up.

I did not want to wait a whole night for my fate to be decided, I was anxious enough as it was. This whole ordeal needed to be over!

The older woman shook her head. “No, no, no.” She looked across the hall at a closed door. “Cardinal Copia can check you, we have too many siblings to get through and I want this dealt with quickly.”

“Cardinal?” I squeaked out. I did not want that man anywhere near me. He was terrifying. And I certainly did not want him to see me naked! “But, Sister, I would much rather it be you.”

While the smile she gave me was kind, she was clearly tired and I could tell she had better things to worry about than my embarrassment.

“Dear, he’s very efficient,” she said, giving me another smile. “You’ll be fine.”

“Or Papa?” I asked. “Can he not check me?”

Sister snorted. “Ha. No. This is not an excuse for Terzo to fuck the entire congregation. We would be here until spring if that were the case.” She gave me a quick little pat on the shoulder and then prodded me in the direction of the Cardinal’s office door. “Cardinal Copia is a professional. And he has finished with everyone else.”

I went to open my mouth to protest but she was already waving me off and hurrying down the halls, her shoes clicking behind her. I stared at his office door. Maybe I could just go back to my room, but I knew it was pointless. I had to be checked and I didn’t want to disappoint Sister Imperator—or have her think I was silly. If it had been Papa Nihil I think I would have been less hesitant. I shuddered at the thought.

I had only ever been in Cardinal Copia’s office once before. It had been when I had first joined the abbey and was a fresh-faced novitiate. He had been talking of rituals—explicit ones—and I had been unable to stop fidgeting in my seat, unable to really concentrate. I had been sitting so far back I do not know how he had noticed me, but he had. And the Cardinal had requested to see me after dinner that night in his office. The old church I’d left behind had instilled in me a sense of shame that had been hard to ignore during those early days—especially when my thoughts would turn to the more lustful. Whenever the Cardinal would speak, I hadn’t been able to control the way I would press my thighs together. I didn’t really care what he spoke of, only that he did. But when he spoke of rituals out there on the sacred grounds, bodies naked in praise of Lucifer, how was I supposed to concentrate? I had never heard such lascivious talk before, and certainly not from a man wearing a cassock!

I didn’t know what I had expected when I had arrived in his office, but having the back of my hands struck with a ruler had not been it.

Lack of discipline, he had told me. I should pay attention and not fidget during lessons. It had been mortifying. But not because he had struck me like an errant child but because it had made my mind immediately think of being bent over the desk and him striking my backside. I never wanted to go into his office again.

That was a lie. I did. But he couldn’t know that. I had witnessed a few hopeful siblings sidle up to him after an impressive sermon, surely emboldened by his passionate words and that wicked look he would get in those mismatched eyes. All of them had been turned away with a snide remark. I had no desire to be mocked or to embarrass myself in front of a high member of the clergy. So I didn’t dare approach him.

I knocked on the door politely until I heard the sharp command to enter. I did so, letting the door shut softly behind me. The Cardinal was at his desk, bent over some document and scribbling furiously. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I cleared my throat.

“Cardinal—“

He held up a hand for my silence but did not look up. I bristled but kept my mouth shut, hoping he would finish quickly.

I glanced around the office. It was very much like Sister Imperator’s office with dark wooden panelling and numerous shelves full of books and other odd trinkets. But the Cardinal’s space had a ridged neatness about it, I felt sympathy for the maid who had to clean in here. I suspected he was rather pedantic about everything. My eyes continued to roam until they fell on a high wooden stool off to the side. It looked out of place compared to the Cardinal’s high wingback chair and the hard uncomfortable chair that sat in front of his massive desk—I suspected this was a deliberate choice in an effort to discourage others from staying long. When my eyes fell back to his desk, the Cardinal was placing his fountain pen away and finally acknowledging me with a raised brow, gloved hands folded in front of him on the desk.

“Sister,” he said, “what do you want?”

“Sister Imperator was meant to see me—for my mark,” I said quickly. “But she was called out urgently. She said I could see you instead.”

The man regarded me a moment before he let out a suffering sigh and waved a gloved hand at me.

“Si, si.” He stood, his grucifix clinking against the many buttons of his black cassock.

It was then I realised he had already removed his biretta. I’d so rarely seen him without it when he was wearing the regular clergy attire. The soft lamplight made his hair look like burnished wood and I could see the greying strands at his temples. I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to not think of how it would feel to run my fingers through it.

He moved around the desk and past me, leaving a trail of heavy incense and leather in his wake. There was a scrape and I turned to watch him grab the stool and place it before his desk.

“Do you know if you have one?” he asked in a bored voice but then he smirked. “Unless you wish to confess to being a virtuous little idolator now?”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t find one but I’m no imposter, Cardinal.”

“We shall see.” He pointed at the stool. “Take off your clothes and sit.”

I stood there stunned by his brash attitude. He scowled at me impatiently.

“Hurry up, girl.” He waved a hand at me impatiently. “I do not want to be here all day.”

I quickly stepped out of my shoes, taking my veil off as I did. I angled my body away from him ever so slightly, not wishing to look at him, though I could feel his eyes on me. The skin on the back of my neck prickled and a shaky breath escaped my lips. I undid the top few buttons of my habit before unceremoniously tugging it over my head. It was nothing, I told myself. Many people had seen me naked since my time at the abbey, I had become more comfortable over time. But still…it had never been in front of Cardinal Copia. I folded my dress over the nearby armchair with my veil before I moved to sit on the stool but his words stopped me.

“Dai!” he snapped, coming towards me and pulling up my bra strap so that it flicked down hard against my shoulder. “The rest of it as well.”

“What?” I said, shocked.

“Remove the rest of your clothes,” he repeated, voice tinged with irritation. “Satana salvami dalle bambine stupide…”

While I didn’t speak Italian, I didn’t need to in order to guess what “stupide” meant. But I wasn’t going to sulk, I just wanted it over and done with. Ignoring the embarrassment already welling somewhere in my chest, I took a deep breath and undid the clasp of my bra, grateful that my fingers didn’t fumble with them. The flush of humiliation was rising up my neck and I could feel it suffusing my cheeks. It’s just like a medical exam, I told myself. A very strange one. I glanced at the Cardinal and he was staring at me with a blank expression. I couldn’t just stand here forever so I decided to just treat it like a bandaid and gathered whatever courage I had to push my knickers down my legs and step out of them. I kicked them towards the rest of my clothes and immediately used my arms to try and cover my breasts with my hands clasped in front of my sex.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Sister,” said the Cardinal, bored disdain dripping from his words. He pointed at the stool. “Sit.”

I awkwardly perched myself on the stool, my hands in my lap and keeping my thighs pressed together tightly while my feet dangled. I didn’t know where to look as he approached me, engulfing me again in that delirious scent of his. It made my skin prickle and I tried to think of anything that would distract me. I was all too aware of how bare I was and didn’t need my stupid body to give me away. Thankfully, he walked behind me and I felt myself relax somewhat. It didn’t last long. Suddenly and without warning, a leather-clad hand was gripping my shoulder while the other touched my bare back. I couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden contact.

“You have not been here long, Sister.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” I replied as his hand pushed me forward slightly. “I only joined a few months ago.”

“Most marks are on the torso,” he said. “The mark isn’t used much in these modern times but everyone is gifted one.” I felt the leather glide down my back, making my skin break out in gooseflesh. It felt unbearably soft despite his precise movement. “Sometimes it is like that of a burn—a branding—or it can be like a tattoo or birthmark. But it’s always His sign.”

It was easier to try and pretend I was merely in a lesson, or perhaps mass, and not sitting here naked while his hands roamed over my skin. He grasped my shoulder again and pulled me back upright. A gloved hand swept my hair to the side and trailed gently over the back of my neck. He moved methodically but I couldn’t deny how every touch sent my nerves alight. Occasionally when he moved closer, the grucifix he wore would swing forward and I’d feel the cool bejewelled cross graze against the skin of my back.

When he tilted my head to the side to look behind my ear I had to bite my lip. The patch of skin there was too sensitive and again my body was tingling. I tried to squeeze my thighs together and then abruptly stopped—I was completely bare, I told myself, and couldn’t hide. He would notice. I tried to think of anything to distract myself: Nihil naked, the smell of rotten eggs—anything revolting I could think of. But it was too hard to conjure up anything disagreeable with those hands on my skin and his scent enveloping me.

“Nothing yet, Sorella,” he hummed. He sounded a little gleeful, as though he was hoping to be the one to find the imposter in our midst. “It could be on your head,” he continued thoughtfully, hand grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging me back so I had to look up at him, “we could chop it all off but that would be a shame to have you looking like Papa Secondo.”

He let out a bark of laughter and moved in front of me, letting go of my hair. I still kept my hands in my lap, trying to salvage whatever modesty I had but he grabbed one arm and stretched it out. I didn’t know where to look so I just stared below his chin at the top few buttons of his black cassock. He twisted my arm and then spread my fingers before he dropped my hand unceremoniously and began doing the same to the other.

It felt like a slight reprieve to have him checking my arm and hand. It didn’t make me feel as delirious as his touching of my back and neck. But too soon he was done with the other arm. I couldn’t place my hands back in my lap so I just gripped the side of the stool. The Cardinal was already tilting my chin up so his fingers could glide over my throat before they dipped over my collarbone. There was a rustle of fabric as I heard him lower himself to the ground before me. I kept my head slightly up, staring at a small brass globe sitting on a shelf behind his desk. One of his hands was gripping my waist while the other flittered over my chest. He muttered something in Italian under his breath.

“I have yet to find a single mark on your skin, dolce,” he said and I still refused to look at him.

“There will be one,” I replied even as my breath hitched.

The feel of his thumb digging into my hip was driving me insane and I tried to take in a calm and even breath. But I lost any composure I had when his thumb accidentally swiped over my nipple. I sucked in a sharp breath in an effort not to moan, my whole body trembling at the contact.

“Keep still then.”

I bit my lip again as leather moved underneath my breast. How was I supposed to keep still? Surely he didn’t need to touch what felt like every inch of my skin? It was torturous.

His careful and businesslike touches should not have had me dancing precariously on the knife’s edge of arousal but they did. I was praying that he would find it soon, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My stomach was tense with building desire and the throb between my legs was getting insistent, I knew I was already soaking wet. Sneaking a glance down at him, I could see his face was set in an expression of focused concentration—his heavy brow furrowed as his eyes swept over my legs. A hand glided up my shin and gripped the side of my knee, fingers tickling the back of my thigh.

He hummed in thought and when I saw his finger move between my pressed legs I nearly cried out.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

No way, I told myself. I was not parting my legs. It was too humiliating. But he just glanced up and caught my eye.

“Do it now, Sorella.”

That frightening face just watched me, seeming to dare me to defy him. I parted my legs barely two inches. His face was directly in front of my shamefully soaked pussy and I was terrified he would notice—and even worse that he would make some snide remark about it. But I knew he had to notice, there was no way he couldn’t smell it. If I could, he certainly could. I wanted to run, but his grip on my leg was firm.

An irritated huff fell from his lips before his large hands swept up my legs and gripped my knees. He forced my legs apart and I nearly tipped off the stool with the sudden force of it. My face flushed again and I readjusted my tight grip on the seat and stared up at the ceiling. The humiliation had me breathing hard. I couldn’t even try to pretend I had any composure left as soft leather-clad fingers moved over the inside of my thigh. I glanced down again unable to stop myself and saw him lean closer. His finger paused—it was right in the crease of where my thigh met my groin. His hand was so close to my dripping sex I was ready to scream. He tapped my skin and I squirmed in my seat.

“I think this is it, dolce,” I felt his breath against my folds and bit the inside of my cheek. How was he doing this? How in heaven was he so calm? “But I have to check for sure.”

“How?” I managed to ask. I didn’t even sound like myself.

As with earlier when he had first begun, there was no warning from him. His head just moved forward as his hands dug into the flesh of my thighs before I felt his mouth kiss against the skin. His cheek brushed again my pussy, sideburns tickling and teasing my flesh before it was suddenly gone. I’d been unable to stop the soft whine of protest that fell from my lips, I prayed that he hadn’t heard.

Suddenly it stung hot and I gasped. I looked where he had touched me—there was a small mark—three sixes intertwined—which blared red for a moment before it faded to look like a regular birthmark. It also sent a rush of pure, unfiltered pleasure through my entire body—a body that was already on edge. I shuddered. The temptation to just scoot myself forward an inch or so, just so that the Cardinal’s large nose was buried against me was overwhelming.

But he stood abruptly, smoothing his hands over his cassock not even phased that he had left me a wanton mess. I just sat there, still breathing hard as I tried to come to myself.

“You can go, Sister,” he said, moving towards his desk. He glanced at a clock on the wall and grabbed his biretta before placing it on his head and giving me another withering look. “I’m already late for dinner.”

thanks for reading! will hopefully add the rest soon :) apologies for any errors.

Dai! - Come on! Satana salvami dalle bambine stupide - Satan save me from stupid little girls

chapter two

#cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia x reader #the band ghost fic #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #my-writing #fic: mark of the beast

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everydayyoulovemeless · 14 days

Note

sequel to that no nut november post where instead it's destroy dick december?😭

FNV Companions (+Yes Man, Victor, and Benny) Responses to Destroy Dick December

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic ➼ A/N » what a title

Boone outright refuses. He knows he's not gonna be successful and decides he's not even going to try. He's not even supportive about it. Anytime he sees you walk toward the bathroom he'll look at you with disgust and tell you to be smart about what you're gonna do because you both have to hit the road again soon, whether you're tired or not. 0/10, he's an awful partner to do this challenge with, don't even bother asking.

"Does it feel good anymore?"

Arcade will run stressed hands down his face. He made it all the way through November only for you to bring up something he finds to be way harder than the last. He'll try, but he's not making it anywhere past the tenth day. He likes being overstimulated, but damn. 3/10, he tries but doesn't quite have the stamina to pull it off.

"uh uh, I'm done, I have things I need to do around Freeside."

Raul hits you with that 1000-mile stare. Have you seen how decrepit he is? He has a difficult trying to get his thing up as it is, and you want to see him cum 31 times in one day? No, thank you. 2/10, he does actually try because he's curious about how far he can take himself, but it's nothing to write home about. He'll make it to day 3 if he's lucky.

"I'm over 200, boss... I don't think I can."

Cass is a champion at this. She can cum 31 times a day any day of the week. The biggest problem with her is that she makes sure to include you. You're knees are going to be weak and wobbly by the end of the month, it's her only goal since she passes the challenge with ease every year. 11/10, it's her favorite month by far.

"C'mon~ You can last longer than that!"

Veronica's quite determined to pass, even if she knows she's going to struggle once she hits the double digits. She'll try to mix all sorts of new things into your sex life to try and keep the challenge fresh and interesting. She'll find all sorts of sex toys and new positions to try in an attempt to keep you both at it for longer. 7/10, she makes it to day 15, but at least she's creative.

"Hear me out... I got us working vibrators!"

Yes Man makes it his life's mission to ensure you make it through the month. He'll lock you away in the Lucky 38 and personally make sure you get to the correct number every day. The day you told him you were interested in doing it was the day he pledged to himself that he'd actually get you through this challenge. He didn't do as well last month, but he'll make sure this time is different. He'll even tie you to the bed if he has to. 10/10, not only are you passing, but he will too!

"Aww, quite squirming! We've almost hit the number for today!"

Victor just shrugs and tells you that he thinks it'd be fun. He's not the horniest person alive, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't have stamina. He's fairly competitive and would like to win the challenge with you, but it relies heavily on how far you're willing to take it. 5/10, he could go for however long, but he'll stop going at it when you do.

"How're you holdin' up? Wanna go another round?"

Benny was really on board with it until the sixth day when he realized how exhausting this actually is. He's an old man, he's not built for this. But he wants to keep that pimp-like persona going for as long as he can. He'll be whimpering most nights from the overstimulation but he doesn't give up unless you specifically ask him about it. 8/10, he plays a very convincing performance, but how long can he push it?

"Sure, baby! We can go... again..."

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loving-n0t-heyting · 5 months

Text

Holy fuck they are hawking this bullshit again about high mortgage rates being racist

Borrowing costs for mortgages have more than doubled over the last two years as the Federal Reserve has battled inflation by hiking interest rates, which hit a 22-year high earlier this year. […]

The Financial Services Forum, representing eight of the biggest U.S. banks, said it is spending a seven-figure sum on television advertising blasting the proposal as an added fee on Americans already burdened by inflation.

“The fed has hiked interest rates to reduce inflation, and also as the Evil League of Evil points out, these high interest rates exacerbate the problem of inflation.” Could you try to hide the doublethink a bit harder?

After George Floyd’s murder ignited nationwide protests in the summer of 2020, corporations across the economy committed to projects aimed at battling systemic racism. Mortgage lenders pledged to work with financial regulators to provide credit to more minority borrowers.

“To honour the death of George floyd, we need to use interest rates to hike housing values.” Shameless. Just fucking shameless.

Then again, if she extends the lease on her two-bedroom apartment — where her 11-year-old son is sharing a bedroom with his 22-year-old brother — her rent will increase by $70 a month, to nearly $1,400.

“To hear costs just keep going up is really disheartening,” she said. “Where do they want people to live?”

If the problem this woman is facing is that the rent is too damn high, I think the natural thing to do would be to focus on policies with the ability to make the rent less damn high. But no, increasing homeownership forever at all costs is clearly the only solution, which actually dovetails with instead of flatly contradicting addressing the problem of rentiers being able to extort more money from their tenants bc of their high property values

Sen. Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio), who chairs the Senate Banking Committee, struck an incredulous tone over the industry’s lobbying push as the bank CEOs testified before the panel Wednesday.

“Wall Street banks are actually saying that cracking down on them will, quote, ‘hurt working families.’ Really?” he asked. “You’re going to claim that?”

Love that the obligatory “And now we will give coverage to the other side” section is just sherrod brown saying “Sorry do u expect me to actually swallow this tripe?” Lol

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

An Enid x fem reader where Enid is upset about her parents and not wolfing out and the reader comforts her

“Enid.” You called out softly as you entered her dorm; sitting yourself down on the edge of her brightly coloured bed, conscious in giving the werewolf as much space as she required in her current vulnerable state. “Wednesday told me about…y’know…” you trailed off, not wanting to remind the poor girl of what had to have been lurking in the back of her mind ever since discovering her inability to perform her duty as a full fledged werewolf.

“So she’s telling everyone one now huh?” Enid said bitterly from under her blankets, “poor, unfortunate Enid Sinclair, Nevermore’s resident gossiper, doomed to becoming a lone wolf because she’s too inadequate in being like all the other werewolves...” she finished, her voice filled with hurt, pain and anguish that it forced you into an uncomfortable silence. Enid had branded herself as someone who had sunshine built within her rather then moonlight like most, she was one of the only lights within a school as bleak and as off putting as Nevermore.

She wasn’t like everyone else at school and you love that about her, very much. So it hurt you to see her like this about something that wasn’t hers to be faulted for; you didn’t care that she was a late bloomer but it was an obvious sore spot, an Achilles heel for Enid whenever her ears perked up at the howls of her fellow werewolves as she stood outside on the terrace of her dormitory, torturing herself within the unforgiving cold bite of night. “Did you know that they’re planning on sending me away?” Enid said as she sat up from her bed so you could see the dried infused steaks of tears and ruined mascara that ran vertically down her flushed cheeks.

You didn’t have to ask of who she was talking about because it was obvious that it was her parents. They had made it apparent that they weren’t proud of their daughter as parents should be no matter what, but you guessed you expected too much from people whom only wanted their child to be just like everyone else, to be ‘normal’ and have no differentiating traits what so ever. “No, I didn’t and I’m not about to let them do it either.” You spoke as though you were pledging to a vow that you were intending to keep, which you were until your dying breath because in all honestly; you weren’t ready to say goodbye to Enid, you weren’t about to loose your sunshine.

Enid looked at you with fresh tears brimming her eyes as her hands pulled and tugged at her cotton candy pink sweater, puncturing holes into the stitching. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change their mind y/n…it’s too late, I’ll be gone by the end of the semester.” She tells you, utterly defeated and devoid of her will to fight against the injustices made against her will. It broke your heart to see her without a beaming smile on her face but it seemed to you that those who smiled the widest and shine the brightest were the ones who suffered the most with their internal conflicts.

You reached for her hands, pulling them away from her sweater so you could intertwine your fingers. “I may not be able to change your parents minds but I hope to at least change yours.” You said as your eyes never left her beautifully pastel painted nails, subconsciously running your thumbs over the backs of her hands comfortingly. “Enid, you shouldn’t care for what is expected of you because no matter what to do, they’ll always view you lesser then you actually are. To me your perfect the way you are,” you tell her, tightening yourself grip on her hands, taking her silence as a cue for you to continue.

After wetting your dry lips, you began to speak again, “i don’t care if you can’t wolf out. You’ll get there in your own time, you just need to have a little patience with yourself because the more you force it for the betterment of someone else, the lesser you are able to wolf out at your own accord because subconsciously your stuck; Perpetuated by the fear of disappointing those very same people. So please Enid, don’t be so harsh on yourself about this because it’ll only end in you getting really, really hurt and I…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You whispered the last part under your breath as you willed yourself to look up at Enid to see that she had already started crying once more. You felt your heart drop.

“Oh Enid, I didn’t mean to- “do you mean it? All of it?” She asks of you, her hands squeezing your hands as though she was Adair’s that you would take back everything you said because she was too needy or too reliant on knowing that someone was being genuine with their words towards her. “Yes, I mean all of it and so much more baby.” You replied, wanting her to know how serious you were about how little you cared about her inability to wolf out because to you, it was the least important factor about her. You weren’t given much time to react when she lunged forward to wrap you up in her arms, her face buried deeply into the crook of your back as her tears dampened the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m so sorry for snapping at you, I didn’t mean to-“ you cut her off by shushing her, running your hands up and down her back as you leant yourself backwards until your back hit the bedding below. “Don’t apologise, sunshine. Just rest your weary eyes as I cradle your hurting heart in my arms until you feel better.” You pressed a kiss to her forehead, smelling her much favoured strawberry and cherry shampoo as you felt Enid snuggle deeper into your being, pulling up the blanket to cover the both of you as you laid there until you felt yourself falling asleep.

#enid sinclair fic #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair imagine #enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair imagines

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