#Topolina

[angelina8611]

forgot to show you these

Well I made Donald daisy Mickey and Minnie in gacha

[gregor-samsung]

Topolino e la scatola dei 100 anni (Testo di Massimo Marconi, disegni di Silvio Camboni; pubblicato su Topolino n° 1997, 1994)

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

The thought of slashers assigning you names of timid, delicate animals as terms of endearment when you’re scared by them. You keep giving them those wide, fearful eyes! So befitting of a little fawn. You’re shaking like a leaf, your whole body trembling in terror…. You’re like a cornered rabbit. Their little rabbit. Their precious little mouse who cowers and squeaks in fear. Their beautiful, docile little dove to adore. Is it patronizing? Perhaps. But that’s the least of your worries now, isn’t it, pet?

[fangisms]

playfight

A/N: first of all, she is REALLY in her active era, hold the applause. second this is so borderline smutty and disgustingly self indulgent... it had to be done gif creds: @drunkblushed

Pairings: Theodore Nott x GN!Reader

Summary: Theo finds a way to motivate you out of bed. Hint: it includes body heat and physical contact. 0.5k words

Warnings: fluff with like a self indulgent pinch of smuttiness, more like heavy petting and a little spicy, lovesickness

You'd been inside all day, soaking in the cool tranquility of the Parkinson family lodge. With your group of friends always nearby and a good book always in hand, it can't get better than this.

"Topolina mia..."

Theo calls you like an emergency siren before he pounces on top of you, straddling the backs of your thighs and leering over your shoulder like a hungry leopard. You whine and he just giggles boyishly into your ear.

"Theo!"

His cold, pink nose presses to your pulsing jugular, teeth pinching the delicate skin. You whine and reach around, cupping the back of his head and resting your book against the pillow. Soft puffs of air fan out across your throat. He groans with contempt.

"It's cold in here"—his fingers fuss with the edge of your sweater—"If you want to be cold, why don't you come outside with us?"

"Too cold."

His laugh rolls up your spine, and when you try to flip yourself over, he pins your forearms to the bed. Suddenly, you're defenseless and he spreads your thighs with his knee.

Theo whispers into the tender warmth of your temple, "you're losing."

You let him overpower you, resting your cheek on the mattress but wriggling in his grasp to test him. 

"Not fair," you protest, "Rules unclear."

It's not so entertaining to Theo who gives you a little less wiggle room, pressing his hips to yours. Slotting his hips between your thighs.

"Are you coming to the pub later?" he asks. You pinch your eyes closed.

"I could. Or I could stay here and nap."

He groans. Just one shift of his pelvis has you relaxing beneath him. It's snowing, but he keeps you warm.

"You've been napping all day. Come with us," he pleads, pushing your sweater up and smiling when you writhe under his icy touch, "per favore?"

You mumble something into the mattress.

"Can't hear you."

You lift your head and sigh. "Damn you. Oh, how I love to stay in. But then again, oh, how I love you."

With Theo's weight loose on your upper body, you manage to twist, and he smiles and nudges your nose with his like a lover. Like he's your lobster, but he looks more like a buck. Then he kisses you.

It's slow and syrupy. He wastes no time in pushing his tongue into your mouth. It's his favorite party trick because you always let him show it off. Only with the promise that you'll cradle his face while he does it, though.

Theo hastily pats your ass and rolls off the bed. Holding out his hand to you, he cocks his brow expectantly.

"Coming?"



masterlist

[waywardcrow]

All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part six

art by the most talented @piaart -- they are also cooking up something extra hehe

author’s note: 18+! mdni! yeah yeah uhh… things happen between our favs. this is a nice chapter! future chapters may not be so nice… 5k!!! words. part one/two/three/four/five. ao3 linky.

Terzo’s pajama pants drag across the floor, having had trouble finding basically any pair of pants that fit his length since losing out on the ministry’s tailor. He’s grown used to it and has even gone so far as to hardly wear socks anymore due to his pant legs curling beneath his toes. Anxious to get back to you, to see how you’re handling falling headfirst into his trap. As he nears the guest room he is met with silence until he creeps closer to the door. A dim light spills into the hallway and he can hear soft pants and whines coming from inside. His stomach drops, lurching to push the door open. You’re on the bed with your knees pulled up to your chest, cheeks wet and eyes red.

“I-I can’t stay here,” you whimper as shaky hands rub your red eyes. “Something’s n-not right here.” Terzo is immediately in front of you, knees working his way to around your legs and his hands gingerly pushing your fingers away from your face to cup your cheeks. He is practically on top of you, the concern in his eyes nearly sending you into another fit of tears. Your head feels so heavy in his hands.

“What has happened, principessa? You are shaking like the leaf.” You’re surprised by the softness of his voice compared to the grip he currently has on your face, like you’ll disappear if he were to let you go. He brushes the hair out of your eyes with his thumbs. You try to catch your breath, almost unable to focus on anything other than how devastatingly handsome he looks. God, you really are *drunk*. Mumbling, you lift your arm that feels impossibly heavy to point at the suspicious telephone on the dresser.

He follows your fingertip and his entire body goes rigid as he sees it, rage boiling up inside of him. Terzo knows he can’t let it blow, not now, not while he has you in his arms. He takes a deep breath and turns back to you, leaning in so close that strands of his hair skim your forehead. “I am here now, topolina, eh? Here to protect you from the monsters.” Your eyes widen as if he’s serious. Is he serious? Was that phone call even real? You find yourself nodding. “I will take you to my room now, yes?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, instead scooping you up into his arms and hurrying out of the guest room.

Terzo is so *warm*. The fear and tension evaporates from your body, going completely limp against his chest. You are nearly being lulled to sleep just by his heavy steps and the steady beat of your heart. Visions blurs and when you’re able to focus again you’re being lowered onto a plush mattress. A comforter magically drapes across your body and you continue to sink into a cozy haze.

He stands over you unable to tear his eyes away or even move. Bewitched to see you in his bed. Terzo considers taking to the couch so you can have the bed to yourself but… but he’s a selfish, bad man. The mattress dips as he slides into bed beside you though he does allow for some space between you. Sleepy eyes flutter open and you look at each other. You start the little game, inching closer to him every few moments just for him to do the same until the tips of your noses touch. It’s almost juvenile, like having your first sleepover with a boy.

Lips brush against his and you’re kissing, timid and cutesy at first. The taste of alcohol is strong on your tongue and lips that he greedily sucks and laps at as your bodies press closer together. Terzo has his arms curled around your waist, pulling you tight against as your hands roam his coarse chest hair at your fingertips. You’re head is so heavy but your thoughts are light, each little sound from him sending you further into madness.

“Puffetta, you are tipsy,” he murmurs against your lips but there’s an edge of seriousness — you are drunk and no matter how hard you beg for him it would be wrong for him to truly take advantage. Still, his cool fingers slip beneath the hem of your t-shirt and he starts to stroke along your hip bones. Your hot skin only becomes hotter, face flushing as you try to wriggle yourself even closer to him.

“But I *want* you to.” An exasperated whine while your heart beats out of your chest. The whiskey he had you drink is going directly to your clit, throbbing with a primal need. You can’t believe you’re here in his bed, between luxurious purple sheets. Another whine and you hook your leg over Terzo’s hip to pull him in closer. “Touch me. Touch me *please,”* you whisper and chew on your lower lip.

*Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.*

Eve tempting the serpent.

He could take you so easily. Push your underwear to the side while you press into his touch. You’re probably so wet right now, so wanting. Terzo groans and removes one hand from underneath your shirt to gently push your leg off of his hip. The disappointment in your eyes makes him hesitate for just a moment until he gives your thigh and rough squeeze, making you mewl. Oh, what sweet sounds he could get you to make. He sucks in a deep breath, taking a moment to settle himself and ignore his burgeoning hardness in his boxers, and then brushes the tip of his nose against yours with a wicked grin.

“Okay, I’ll touch you. I’ll touch you along your stomach… your hips, your thighs…” His eyes are dark as they bore into yours. “Everywhere that isn’t *private*.” You huff and open your mouth to interject but he cuts you off. “I’ll make you feel good, *prometto.* Let me, gattina.” His husky voice and sharp squeeze of your hip has you nodding in agreement. Terzo knows best, doesn’t he?

He begins to trace slow, tantalizing circles along your inner thighs, making you shiver. You can feel the heat pooling even more intensely between your legs, but his touch remains just shy of where you need it most. For now, you let yourself get lost in the sensation, trusting him to keep his promise. Terzo’s bare fingers dance along your skin, igniting tiny sparks of pleasure with each stroke mixed with how soothing it all feels. To *finally* feel his hands all over you. You arch your back slightly, trying to coax him to where you need him, but he remains just shy.

"Terzo..." you breathe out, your voice a mix of desperation and drowsiness.

“I knew you wanted me,” he chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. Strong hands drift up your stomach and sides, so close to your breasts but just grazing the sides of them. You let out a shaky sigh, your body trembling with anticipation. “Calm yourself, puffetta. Aren’t you sleepy?” His fingers continue their journey, tracing patterns along your sides.

His touch is maddening, a tease that leaves you both frustrated and yearning. You nod slowly, feeling the weight of the alcohol and desire pulling you into a hazy state. His lips brush your temple as he whispers, "rest now, there will be a time for this.

"Promise?" You murmur, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean into his gentle touch.

"Prometto," he assures you, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your very core. His hands continue their soothing patterns along your sides, easing you into a sense of calm and comfort.

Your breathing steadies as you sink further into the couch. The fire inside you starts to die down, limbs growing heavy. Terzo’s soft breath on your skin and his deep strokes of your hips soothe you to sleep in his arms. He gives a shuddered gasp as you finally succumb to sleep, burying his face into the crook of your neck to take a deep inhale of your scent.

He can’t let you leave now, can he? Not when you’re finally here, so close and so vulnerable. He tightens his grip on you, a possessive edge creeping into his touch. Lips graze your shoulders and he shudders again, white hot desire coursing through him. Terzo bites the inside of his mouth *hard* to calm himself, to focus on something other than you.

But you’re *here*. In his arms. Snoring quietly. He sighs against you, arms around you giving you a firm squeeze. Sharing his bed with someone almost seemed like something he would never do again. But you’re here. His mind quiets, a sense of peace washing over him. You are here for him. Not because of his position or his family. Eh, perhaps the money and the mystique helped but… Terzo hums quietly and brushes his nose along your shoulder.

You’re here.

***

You wake up with your head in his armpit. Eyes blink open and the scent of him fills your nose, musky and comforting. You wiggle slightly, trying to adjust your position, but his arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. If your head didn’t hurt so much you would be swooning. Cheek rests against his chest and you take a deep breath. Terzo stirs beneath you, his hand drifting up your head to lazily pet your hair. A content hum leaves your lips and you feel him stiffen, fingers digging into your scalp. You lift your head so that you can see him.

Terzo’s eyes are already dark. A beat passes between you, holding each other’s gaze until he gives in. He presses a timid kiss to your lips as his other arm wraps around your waist. You blink as his head tips back for a moment, a delicious grin spreading across his face before he rolls you on to your back.

His lips capture yours again, more urgently this time, as his hands roam your body with newfound purpose. Morning light filters through the curtains, bathing you in a comfortable warmth that spreads beneath your skin. Cheeks are already flushed and you mewl into the kiss as you bring one of your hands up to cup the side of his face. The tips of your fingers brush along his hairline, feeling his silky hair for the first time.

"Terzo," you murmur against his lips with a huff, the desire in your voice evident. He responds with a low growl, his fingers tracing the along your collarbone, sending shivers down your body. “Please.”

He feels a pang of deep arousal in his gut as that word falls from your mouth. There’s a brief reprieve, his nearly black eyes gazing into yours, giving a sharp inhale before he grabs you. Fingers dig into the back of your head, his mouth hovering just over yours as his hand snakes down the front of your sweatpants. Palm presses against the heat between your legs and your entire body jolts from him finally touching you where you want him to. Your jaw goes slack, giving a small whine as your eyes flutter shut.

“*O-oh,*” Terzo gasps, shuddering just from the noise you made. He desperately wants to hear more of it so he pushes your already damp underwear to the side and runs his deft fingers over your wet folds. Your hips buck against his touch as his name falls from your lips. Terzo moans and leans down to press his forehead against yours, sharp gaze locked on your every reaction. A finger slips inside you and your whole body tenses, breath caught in your throat. He starts with long, slow strokes in a come hither motion, making your toes curl and your legs tense.

He is absolutely loving this, completely consumed by the way your body reacts to him. This is a moment he has dreamed about, thinking up the perfect things to whisper in your ear that have sadly slipped his mind now that he has you beneath him. You rest your one hand on his arm, squeezing as your other one digs into the sheets. Terzo adds another finger, a hiss leaving his lips before crushing them against your mouth, swallowing up your needy moans and gasps. You’re drowning in him, pumping his fingers into you now at a heated pace with all your muscles clenching around him with each thrust.

You murmur his name again, your hips rolling against him with each movement, eyes half-lidded. Terzo lifts his head, a string of spittle connecting your lips as his grip on the back of your neck tightens. He’s panting heavily, his chest nearly rising and falling at the same rate while your fingers dig into his arm, whining at the loss of his mouth. Tension continues to rise within you, heat spreading beneath your skin. His body is nearly between your legs now, hips grinding along with each of his thrusts until he’s rutting against your inner thigh. You can’t handle it, a thunderous moan spilling from your lips as you clench around his fingers. The orgasm rips through you, pleasure so intense that it makes you see stars.

The snarl that rips from Terzo’s throat brings you back to the present. His hand bunches up your shirt and shoves it up your chest, exposing your breasts. You give a sharp gasp only for the air to be immediately expelled from your lungs as his other hand frees his throbbing cock from his briefs. It is perhaps the most handsome penis you have ever seen. He grasps himself with his large hand and starts to stroke at a frantic pace, his mouth dropping open with a groan. Impossibly dark eyes meet yours, heart thundering in your ears as you watch him pleasure himself. Your name tumbles from his lips, your *actual* name, before he gives a stuttered grunt and comes undone. You can’t help but flinch, arms flying up to shield your face. He moans with each pulse of his cock, his seed spilling on your chest and stomach.

Wide eyes stare into his hazy gaze. Terzo pants heavily, chest rising and falling with force as he takes in the mess he’s made. “You are afraid?” His voice his hoarse but his eyes have softened and his lips twitch into a barely there grin.

“Afraid?” You blink at him, eyebrows shooting up in confusion. It tears your mind away from overanalyzing the fact that your boss’ jizz is currently pooling in your bellybutton.

“Of my sperms,” he trills, unable to hold back his smirk any longer. You roll your eyes as he leans over you to grab a towel conveniently on his nightstand.

“I didn’t want it to get in my hair,” you huff and lean up on your elbows. Terzo gently wipes down each boob and continues down your stomach.

“Ah, si. Makes it, ehhh, clumpy.” He smiles wide, crinkly eyes forcing your frown to dissolve into a giggle. “Need a shower, cara?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Mmm, well I need one.” Terzo presses a kiss to your forehead before slinking off you to his feet. “Don’t snoop. I will know if you do.” He wags a finger at you, squinting his eyes. Drama king. You hold your hands up with an innocent look on your face. His nostrils flare and then he wobbles to the bathroom, his briefs around his ankles. You sink back into the bed, sweatpants around your thighs and your shirt bunched up underneath your armpits. Sitting up, you adjust your clothes so that you’re covered up and finally, you let your mind wander.

The insides of your thighs are still twitching. You feel like you could be drunk again, your head still buzzing from the way he worked you with his fingers. The water starts to run, filling the room with soft white noise.

You dangle your legs at the edge of the bed, eyes wandering the room now that Terzo is in the shower. It’s the nicest room in the whole house — chic, vintage furniture that is beautifully stained a deep purple that stands out against the intricate black wallpaper. Candelabras are scattered throughout with black candles half burned away. The mattress is comfortable, soft with a mass of pillows and several blankets including a sprawling comfortable that’s currently pooled around your waist. You catch your reflection in a floor to ceiling ornate golden mirror.

Hair a mess and swollen lips, complete with an exhausted expression. You run your fingers through your locks in an attempt to smooth it out and untangle some of the knots. Tips of your fingers travel down your cheek so settle on your pink lips with a light touch, thinking about the night before, or at least what you could remember from it. The way he pressed the glass to your lips and made you swallow all that whiskey before stealing your breath away with a bruising kiss. The line has been more than crossed, it’s been pole vaulted over. Eyes continue to drift around the room.

You become focused on the golden framed artwork on the wall in front of you, taking up the space above a low dresser. It’s him; Terzo with his hand raised above him holding up a geometric ball of light that streaks through what looks like the night sky. You’re compelled to your feet to get a closer look at the details. The shower turns off but you’re distracted — he looks almost like a statue, his figure a pale yellow in contrast to the dark sky. Like he carries the light inside of him. You want to reach out and touch the frame but the light is so bright, a worry crosses your mind that it could shock you — like Terzo had shocked you the other day. This doesn’t stop you from leaning in closer to it, admiring the image of him. You realize that he doesn’t have his scar.

It draws you in like the rotary phone did last night, except the art is much more welcoming. As your mind drifts to the phone call you feel a chill. Did that actually happen? The sounds echo in your head, the screams of agony and the squelching. Had you fallen asleep and dreamt it? You hum quietly to yourself. It’s not the best omen for a budding romance. Then again, it is only one of several red flags that have popped up since working for him and none of them have stopped you thus far.

The bathroom door opens and Terzo steps out, a towel draped loosely around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin and his paint still drying. He pauses, admiring you from behind for a moment until his gaze falls to what you’re doing.

*Lightbringer.*

Well, an edited version. He didn’t want to be reminded of the Clergy’s chess game, how he was merely a prop to forward *their* cause. Not the true cause. Lightbringer reminds him that for a time people truly did see him as a guiding light. Terzo’s eyes drift back to you, still in his clothes from the night before. His chest tightens, realizing that you’ve been the one guiding him these days.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is heavy with sleep as he takes a few steps towards you. You’re caught — jumping at the sudden sound of his voice before anxiously laughing it off, turning to look at him. You feel a jolt of arousal. Despite seeing him rather naked, the way water drips down his thick chest hair makes a sound bubble up your throat. Still, your eyes linger on the jagged scar that spans his entire neck.

“Could use some Advil I think,” you manage, rocking on your heels as use one hand to massage your temples. “Do you mind if I freshen up a bit?”

“A-ah, yes of course,” he shuffles out of the way before having a seat on the bed, pointing you in the direction of the bathroom. “There should be Advil in the cabinet.” Terzo props up his head in his hand, eyes lingering on you for a long while. You feel frozen in his gaze, the air catching in your lungs. You’re here in his room. In his clothes. You spent the night with him. He fucked you with his fingers not long ago. Forcing yourself forward, you give him another anxious grin and hurry by him to the bathroom.

He watches you go, drinking in your figure with a hungry look. The minute you’ve disappeared behind the bathroom door he gives a shaky exhale, his hand falling to grip the edge of the mattress. Nails easily tear through the fitted sheet, leaving claw marks. He brings his hand up to his nose to smell what’s left of you on his fingers with a growl. You’re still here and sober. Now, Terzo has to *keep* you. He has unending experience with seduction, luring people who can be easily swayed into the clutches of the ministry but he was only the figurehead. He was the shiny, handsome man who would reach out his hand and have twenty people take it but getting them to stay was never something he never had to worry about.

And his track record with relationships is abysmal. Is this even a relationship, though? He exhales through clenched teeth — he’s getting ahead of himself. You’re here and you *must* stay, no matter what Terzo decides to put you through. You’re his toy, after all. But he *likes* you*.* He chews on the inside of his cheek. An internal struggle ensues between wanting to give you the affection and love you so deserve or to ruin you like how he ruined all his other toys.

Terzo could use advice but the person he usually got it from *could* have been who was on the other side of the phone call you received. Why did it appear to you? It only ever would manifest for him, having been touched by the hells and all, why would the proverbial *they* want to communicate with you? **He can’t help but think he must have cursed you somehow.

His thoughts melt away as you emerge from the bathroom looking fresh and alert. He leans back on his hands unable to hold back the smile that cracks across his face. It may be the first time he’s felt true happiness since coming back.

“There’s a really good breakfast place right down the road from here if you wanna go.” You rock on your heels in front of him. His face goes blank, wide eyes meeting your gaze.

“Ehh… I don’t drive or have a car.”

“I can drive.”

“Your tire is flat.”

“Ah, right. The tire,” you sigh, having completely forgotten. “I could always get us an Uber—“

“*Puffetta*,” he interjects, his voice stern but still an edge of gentleness. You clamp your mouth shut and feel a pang of fear in your chest. Are you being too much already? Thoughts start to spiral until he speaks again. “I, eh… I don’t leave the house much. It’s…” he drifts off, running a hand over his face. “Difficult. It is difficult for me.” You take a moment to process his words, feeling a mixture of understanding and concern.

"That's okay," you say softly, stepping closer to him. There’s a hint of fear and worry in his eyes that makes you feel an ache in your heart. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? He might be worried about being recognized by leaving his house… or maybe it’s something deeper. You remember that despite spending much of your time with him each week there are "We can stay here. Maybe get delivery?” You scan his face, waiting for the first inkling of relief.

Terzo gives you a small, appreciative smile and you melt. "Mm, yes, let us do that." He reaches out to take your hand, toying with your fingers. You give a quiet exhale as you take a step toward him, closing the distance between you. His lips brush against your knuckles before planting soft kisses on each of your fingertips. It’s surprisingly sweet of him and it takes your breath away. Terzo’s free hand slips to your waist and pulls you into him so he can rest his head against your stomach. You start to run your fingers through his hair with a hum and you can feel him relax from your touch. He wraps his arms around you and the entire world falls away.

You stay like that for a quiet moment. This man just fingered you into oblivion but somehow this is more intimate. He lefts his head to look up at you, his mismatched eyes bright.

“Shall we start the day, baby?” Terzo’s voice is barely there, a low rumble that gives you butterflies. You nod and he’s immediately on his feet, arms still around your waist as he ushers you toward the door. He nearly trips over you with a loud giggle that fades as something catching his eye out the window.

Terzo does a double take, eyebrows furrowing. There’s an *imp* in his driveway. A small creature with claws and wings just wandering around your car. He focuses his eyes and realizes that it’s *changing your tire*.

“What’s up?” You start to turn around but he quickly squeezes you in his arms to keep your facing forward.

“E-eh, nothing. Come on — if I do not have french toast in the next hour I will *perish*.”

***

He spends most of the day watching you over the top of his copy of *The Turn of the Screw*. A book he read in his early days of his studies that he continues to come back to. There’s something… comforting about the story despite it being a horror. Perhaps Terzo could relate to the loneliness that plagues each of the characters— and the madness that follows. He’s not usually this quiet on the weekends, spending some time being… well, loud. Unruly. Not in a destructive way but in an over imaginative sort of way. He marches through the house and sings. One time he decided to roll himself up in his comforter and slink across the floor like a worm. The man needs activity but with you here all he wants to do is relish being in your company.

You are content with being with him, even when sitting in silence scrolling your phone while he reads. Terzo’s presence was felt more than seen during your usual working hours and you’ve never quite felt comfortable when he was around you until… well, *today*. You started with your head on his lap, his fingers massaging your scalp as you drifted in and out of a post-breakfast nap. As the day went on, the both of you shifted from room to room either settling sprawled over each other or snuggled in your own plush chair. It’s like two cats spending quality time together, cohabitating.

It’s not all that different from how you spend your current weekends now that your life is on a better schedule. You get to actually sleep at night now! But most of that extra time is spent in your bedroom alone, spacing out or watching some kind of trash reality tv show. Now you’re with him, breathing his air and taking up space in his home all while *not* working. And he’s been uncharacteristically quiet which at times sends your thoughts spiraling. Does he regret crossing the line with you? Have you overstayed your welcome? Just as you’re about to ask if you should leave he springs up from the couch.

“I have an idea, ‘fetta!” Terzo excitedly snuffles over to you with his hand outstretched. “We must enjoy the yard right this second!” You are *game*. Putting your hand in his you let him tug you up from your chair and out of the den. He slows down once you reach the kitchen, taking a moment to look out the window, remembering that *thing* that was outside earlier. Thankfully, the imp was nowhere to be found.

“You know, this has become one of my favorite pastimes.” Terzo squeezes your hand while he fishes a joint out of his pocket.

“You’ve had that this whole time?!” You reach out for it but he playfully swats your hand away.

“This doesn’t mix well with reading books,” he murmurs as he brings the joint to your lips. You swallow thickly before parting them to let him delicately place it in your mouth. “A joint and a nice lay in the grass on a warm day.” His voice dips, making your cheeks flush. You blink and the joint is suddenly lit — he must have had a match at the ready. “We must enjoy it together, si?”

“Yeah, we should,” you mumble around the joint before giving it a deep drag. Terzo plucks it from your lips just as you start coughing and slings his arms around your waist, pulling you against his hip. You walk in unison out the back door and into the yard, the sunlight bathing the both of you in its warm rays. He immediately flops onto the grass with the joint in his mouth, dragging you down with him. You don’t get outside much aside from the outdoor improvements you’ve cared for.

It’s nice to enjoy the freshly mowed grass and the cool breeze that keeps you from getting too sweaty. This is the first time you’ve seen him in sunlight, the rays kissing the wrinkles around his eyes. Terzo reaches for your hand with a sharp smile and deep dimples, lacing his fingers in yours.

Everything is so… perfect in this moment. So much so that you don’t want it to end.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 18th - Thigh Riding (Cardinal Copia x Female!Reader)

Tags: Thigh Riding, Naked Female/Clothed Male, Sex Therapy, Praise, Innocence Kink, Squirting, 3rd Person POV

It was in the chambers of his eminence, Cardinal Copia Emeritus, that she would find solace on most nights. He was trustworthy, a friend to everyone, the easiest to come to for comfort in uncertain times. He knew well how to quell her nerves.

It started with just confessional, but only the afternoons where he would be on duty. He always knew just what to say. But when that wasn't enough, too little time in the day, she asked to meet him in his private domicile, for more personal, in depth chats. He obliged, of course, how could he refuse? Anything for this sweet, young Sister, whom he's grown ever so close to.

It was innocent, just chatting. Talks of anxieties, work stress, your average, day to day worries. The more he prodded for her to open up, the more she did. The talks progressed into that of her love and sex life, or rather, her lack thereof. She hadn't laid with another warm body in quite some time now. Her insecurities and low self-image depleted her sex drive, and her lack of confidence made it so she was mortified of the idea of anyone seeing her nude. Now, the Cardinal couldn't have one of his devoted followers feeling like that, he had a reputation to uphold!

Mentions of a so-called 'sex therapy' started to be brought up into conversation. When she innocently asked how much it was for a session he laughed and assured her it's not like regular therapy, in fact, it wouldn't cost her a dime. The concept is to pick a person whom you already know and trust more than anyone else to do this kind of thing with.

With both parties consent, you would let the other person (AKA your 'therapist') slowly get you comfortable with the idea of sex by building up intimate acts, little by little. Like just being naked around one another, for starters. That could build up to sensual massages, dirty talking, groping more explicit areas of the body, fingering, and ultimately it would lead up to sex. Boundaries and a safe word are set in place just in case, but things should rarely if ever go too far too quickly. When she expressed interest, who do you think she asked to assist her? Exactly who the Cardinal had hoped.

It went on for weeks, building slowly as he had promised. Their sessions were successful every time, Copia being a very attentive and gentle partner. It made her feel safe, valued, in tune with her own desires for the first time in many months. In todays session, they tried something different, but it was her favorite one by far. The pleasures of grinding.

She was naked, while he remained fully clothed, clad in his favorite black suit. The reasoning was to get her to be more comfortable with vulnerability, not being so nervous to be the first one unclothed. That, and he promised her grinding her clit against the fabric of his pants would feel unreal. He also wanted his work clothes to be dampened and tainted with the stench of her arousal for the rest of the day, but that was an unspoken, more selfish reason.

Her drags along his clothed thigh were meager, unsure of herself. It was clear she didn't know quite what she was doing. And while her naivety was as charming as ever, he saw by the look in her eyes she wasn't enjoying this. "Do you need your Cardinal to teach you, topolina? Do you need me to take the reigns for a little bit?" He cooed, in a way that somehow didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Copia had a way with his tone that made his words unimportant. She agreed, full faith in her beloved Cardinal.

He shifts his leg at a certain angle and flexes his thigh to make the experience more pleasurable. Leather bound hands resting at her hips, he begins to rock her slowly, her clit catching against the roughness of his jeans. Her slick gathers and leaves a wet trail across his pant leg where moved her. Exactly what he wanted to see. The way he did it was indeed a way better feeling, her eyes fluttering shut gently, soft little sighs and whimpers escaping her lips.

"There you go," He encouraged. "Let me make you feel good." Everything admittedly felt better when the Cardinal was in control. His voice was velvety and intoxicating, his hands were like magic, his movements were inhumanly perfect. He was unmatched to any other man in regards of sexual prowess, any other man she'd ever been with anyway.

The more she rocked, the wetter she got, the dark patch on his jeans just getting bigger and bigger. Soon enough she was able to guide herself, getting a firm grip on his shoulders and grinding on her own subconsciously. His hands slowly lifted from her sides, like taking off training wheels, putting them to the side. Her humping grows more bold, putting more force into really putting the pressure on her clit. Her moans grew louder too, without her even realizing, too lost in the feeling. She mewled Copias title, still has not once gained the confidence to call him by his first name, despite the professionalism being quite unnessacary. One day she will, and it will be while she's cumming around his cock.

"Cardinal, Cardinal..." She fawned breathlessly. Her riding becoming more insistent, voice sounding like what could almost be mistaken for a tone of distress. She was close, barely hanging on to the edge. Still, something was stopping her from teetering off. She needed some encouragement, poor little thing. And as always, whatever she needed, the Cardinal could provide.

"Doing so well, sweet girl. It feels nice, doesn't it?" He purrs. Her thighs shake. "I know. You've been doing everything right, you just gotta do one more thing for me. Just let go, topolina. Allow yourself to cum. Coat your Cardinal in your sweet nectar. Won't you do that for me?" The coil snaps, her little death arriving as quickly as it approached, flooding all her senses and making a mess of his fine clothes.

He holds her close, soothing her as she shakes and shivers, the intensity from the release she's denied herself for months was debilitating. She definitely needed some extra long time to recover from this one, unable to stand since her legs were now Jello, and extra aftercare as well. And he was more than willing to provide such, snacks, kisses, and back rubs galore. Whatever his little mouse needs. But as much as he loves to provide, he can wait till she leaves, so he can at last deal with this damned infuriatingly painful tent throbbing in his pants.

-

[da-rulah]

You can decide wether this is a request or not but just for your enjoyment, coming up behind either Mary or copia and placing your hands on his hips…slowly sliding them down into the front of is pants and through the waist band of his boxers and just cupping him…holding his cock and keeping it warm. Intimate

Ooooh I love the thought of this. I've really neglected Copia lately, focussed too much on my Mary fic and getting so many Mary requests as a result - which of course, I absolutely do not mind! But let's give our Papa some love, shall we?

NSFW 18+ MDNI!

TW/ Groping (consensual), soft porn really, mentions of oral and penetrative sex

I mean, just picture this...

Copia's just come home from a full day of meetings. He stressed, he's overworked and he's exhausted. He needs someone to take care of him, to show him some kindness, some love - not that he'd ever explicitly ask for it.

Luckily for him, you're already waiting for him. You knew what his schedule was like today; most days, even...

When you crept up behind him in the kitchen, sliding your hands around his waist and over his chest, he had jumped in surprise having not heard you approach at all.

"You sneak up on your Papa like that, come un topolina? (like a little mouse?)" he laughs, shaking off the shock and relaxing under your palms on his chest.

"Sorry Papa... Didn't mean to frighten you..." you lied, a playful hint to your tone. You rested your cheek between his shoulder blades, hugging him closer while your hands explored the expanse of his chest, feeling the softness beneath his shirt and waistcoat.

"A likely story, amore," he laughed, his eyes closing and his body sinking back into your embrace. He could already feel the tension in his muscles fading away.

You simply hummed against him, your hands starting to undo the buttons of his waistcoat, then the buttons in the centre of his shirt until you could slip a hand inside and feel his chest hair beneath your fingers. Copia's head rolled back a little, a small rumble of bliss tumbling from his lips.

Your free hand began to slip over his stomach, down to where his pants hugged his hips and dug into his sides a little. You pulled on the laced crotch to give yourself enough room to snake your hand past his trousers. Just as you expected, he'd forgone underwear again... these trousers of his far too tight for another layer, or so he would say.

"Amore..." he groaned, only just beginning to harden under your touch as you wrapped your hand around his package, simply holding him, barely fondling at all.

"Yes, Papa?" you asked from behind him, beginning to sway a little. He naturally followed suit, the two of you gently swaying together as you groped him so gently, so tenderly, it was all he could do not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

"I'm so tired, amore. I don't know if I have the strength tonight..." he whined. He so rarely turned down an offer to have his way with you, but he'd be in no state to give you any energy tonight.

"Then how about I take care of you instead, hm? You let me do all the hard work?" You could feel his cock filling out in your hand, his body responding so well. He was so lost in his relaxation, there was no hiding your effect on him.

"I could never be so selfish, topolina..." was his only resistance. You just chuckled behind him.

"Papa, my love, you are many things. But selfish? Never. Let me take care of you, please?" you begged so sweetly, massaging your hands across his bare chest and his hardening length. He couldn't deny you; not that he wanted to. His body was already betraying him.

"If that's what you want..." he smiled blissfully, gently holding onto your wrists as you worked your magic.

It was a pitiful surrender, one that he so gladly gave. He almost regretted it when you retracted your hands and instead took his in yours, gently guiding him towards your shared bedroom so you could spend your evening worshipping your Papa as he so deserved.

He would soon retract any regret, when he spent an evening in sleepy, exhausted bliss. You so tenderly pleased him with your hands, your mouth... Even when you came to ride him, you were so careful, slowly drawing the pleasure out of your connection for the both of you.

There was nothing in this life or the next that Copia could say relaxed him more than your presence alone - especially when he allowed you to take care of him...

[volturissideslut]

aro x reader fluff. anything. please. im begging you.

𝕬𝖗𝖔 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

"Darling!" he gasps when you walk into his study, scrambling to hide what he was working on. He had been so focused on what he had been doing that he hadn't heard you knock, he hadn't heard the door open and hadn't even heard you walk over to him. It was the hand on his shoulder that startled him.

"Aro, love, what are you doing?" you look at him incredulously, wondering just what he was up to and why he was scrambling to hide it. He doesn't miss the curious look in your gaze and shrinks back, feeling caught. "I saw my name in your book. Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Cara mia, it was supposed to be a surprise" he almost whines. Heaven forbid any of the guards see him like this, but behind closed doors he was your big loveable baby.

"For our anniversary?" you ask, only to be met with a nod.

"A century together. Immortality becomes you, topolina." his nose brushes against yours in an Eskimo kiss.

"I'll let you keep your secrets... For now." your voice is teasing as you pull back and pinch the tip of his nose. "but right now there are matters to attend to" you straighten up and he smiles softly.

Aro takes your hand in his, raising it to his face to kiss the back of your hand and link your arm with his. "Then we mustn't delay"

(the gift turned out to be a romance book he was writing for you, the main characters being you and him and the story being your relationship. It was a well appreciated gift)

[primomover]

some soft copia headcanons because i’m thinking about him (as always!)

(all sfw with very mild suggestion)

-copia takes his glove off of whatever hand he holds your hand with- he likes to feel skin on skin contact

-you steal each other’s scents. copia keeps a little bottle of your perfume with him and you constantly wear his casual clothes because they smell like him

-he hardly ever says your name. it is every pet name under the sun before he resorts to saying your name

-copia can play the piano. i’m imagining you lying on top the body of the piano and he’s playing your song by elton john to you and you can feel the vibrations in your bones and he just loves you so much

-he doesn’t like being shirtless around you- he’ll sleep in a plain white singlet rather than reveal himself. but you go out of your way to tell him you love him and kiss him every time you get the chance and, when he’s finally comfortable, you slowly strip his shirt off so you can press butterfly kisses on every inch of his skin

-when u wake up next to copia and he’s already awake he will literally just be lying there looking at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen

-he peppers kisses all over you whenever he gets the opportunity. this starts the second you wake up and continues until the pair of you pass out

-he is very clingy. whenever he is able to, he keeps your fingers intertwined, but sometimes he likes to just link your pinkies as you walk

-he would say the most loving and cheesy shit like “are you sure you’re real, topolina? are you sure you are not a stolen work of art from the louvre? we must return you straight away, vero?”

-hogs blankets so bad when u share a bed and he sleeps with his legs intertwined with yours

-he big spoons when he has to but lucifer below he loves being the little spoon and just being enveloped in you

-he loves touching your hair. so much. he will style it if you let him.

my ask box is open for requests, both sfw and nsfw for any and all ghost characters!

[angelina8611]

My IDW version of Minnie

Here's Minnie in my vampire universe that I also made for Halloween

[copias-girl]

Coming Out as Demi to Copia!

Papa IV x reader fluff

A/N: So!! I just came out as demisexual here on tumblr and what better way to celebrate than with a little fic where Reader comes out as demi to a slightly confused yet super supportive Copia!! ACE ARMY, THIS ONE’S FOR US!! I hope you enjoy! 🖤🩶🤍💜

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

“Papa!” You called out, snagging Copia’s sleeve as you caught up with him in one of the many grand corridors of the ministry.

“Eh? Oh! Amore!” He cheerfully greeted you, eagerly halting his steps, wrapping his arms around your waist, and planting a sweet kiss onto your lips.

He looked so handsome in his black blousy shirt- the one with the ruffled sleeves- and you couldn’t help but pull him back into a deeper kiss, causing the man to release a pleasantly surprised little moan.

“Ehh, what’s up, baby?” Copia asked in that adorable Italian accent of his, a bashful grin spreading across his face. And suddenly you began blushing upon remembering why you wanted to speak to him in the first place.

“Um… Can we talk? Are you busy, Papa?” You asked, your hands resting on his shoulders and mindlessly fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt.

“Papa is never too busy for the love of his life.” Copia stated, making you smile. “Dimmi, Dolcezza, di’quello che hai in mente.”

Oh, Satan bless your precious Papa for being so easy to talk to! His lighthearted demeanour served to slightly calm your tense nerves and ease the knot in your stomach.

“Well… I have to tell you something. I- I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I want to tell you now.” You started, nervously fidgeting with the little gold skull that held his cravat in place.

Copia’s expression was suddenly painted with worry as he moved to pull you into an ornate little alcove in the hall for more privacy, his gloved hands never leaving your waist. “Is.. is everything alright, Dolce?” He asked, his mismatched eyes filled with concern.

“Oh! No, don’t worry, everything’s fine!” You shook your head, biting your lip. “I’m just-” You cast a timorous glance over to the marble statue of Baphomet in the alcove, silently praying for courage. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous, as Copia had always been such a supportive and understanding lover. But this suddenly felt like a big thing, and you didn’t want it to change the way he viewed you.

“Dolce, ehm, you’re making Papa a little nervous.” Copia grinned, but you could still see the anxiousness in his gaze.

“Papa, I’m-” For the love of Lucifer, your words kept getting caught in your throat!

Copia recognized how apprehensive you were, so he took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Tutto è bene, si? You can tell me anything, Topolina. I promise whatever it is, I will not be upset.”

You took a deep breath, nodding in determination while your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest. “I’m… I’m demi.” You finally spit it out. You could feel the blood pounding louder and louder in your ears as you waited for your lover’s response.

“Ehm… Demi.. Lovato…?” He asked, and you almost could have burst out laughing if you weren’t so goddamn nervous. Oh, your poor, sweet Papa. It was silly things like this that made your heart swell for him even more.

“No, not- not Demi Lovato-” You managed to huff out a little giggle.

“Eh, a demilune?” He asked again. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely trying to guess or if he was attempting to break the tension with some comedy. Perhaps a mix of both, and you utterly adored him for it.

“A demilune? Do I look like a table to you?” You giggled, raising an eyebrow.

Copia stole a brief glance down to your chest and the curves of your hips before shaking his head and staring at you with wide eyes. “Certainly not…” He corrected himself, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement.

“So tell me, Dolce!” He pleaded, the suspense unbearable.

“Alright, alright… I’m… um.. demisexual..?” You winced, bracing yourself.

“Eh- W-what does that mean, Dolce? Do you… do you not want to be with me anymore? Are you not attracted to me in this way anymore?” Your Papa asked, trepidation in his eyes. “Are you… playing for the other team?” He whispered. “B-because if you are, I would support you but- Oh, il mio povero cuore! Dolce, I would miss you so much!” He lamented, his expression turning utterly sorrowful at the thought of not being able to be your lover anymore.

“No no no! Papa- Oh my Satan- Papa, of course I still want to be with you!” You frantically tried to explain before you broke the man’s heart. You stroked your fingertips down his cheek and along his jawline as he searched your eyes for clarification.

“In fact… this means that… you’re really extra special.” You told him.

“Davvero?” Copia perked up.

You nodded, a smile gracing your features. “It means that…” You paused to think of how to explain it to him, stealing another quick glance at the stoic caprine visage of the Baphomet statue. And then you felt an unexpected clarity come over you. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, and the words poured out of you.

“Well, it means that out of everyone, I only have feelings for you.” You started, inching impossibly closer to Copia and resting your hands on his chest. “No one else makes me feel the way you do, my love. The connection we have is unparalleled; I don’t have a connection like this with anyone else. Like… you don’t understand, this isn’t me just telling you that I love you a lot. I literally don’t feel anything for anyone else. I don’t feel anything at all.”

You took a breath before continuing, “But with you, Copia, life is in a different colour. You make me feel so many things, things I never thought I could feel. I crave you all day. I constantly need to kiss you, touch you, hold you. All I want is to be in your arms. With anyone else, everything is grey and dull. But with you… With you, there are fireworks going off in my head and it drives me mad in the best way possible.” You sighed, but kept going when Copia patiently waited for you to finish, allowing your words to fully sink in.

“I don’t desire touch unless it’s yours. I don’t want sex unless it’s with you. I don’t want romance or anything unless it’s with you. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that… you’re perfect for me. And the reason why I even experience sexual and romantic feelings at all is because of you. Because you’re you. You’re my silly, awkward, sweet, hot as fuck old man. And I fell completely head over heels in love with you.” You finished. “Do you understand..?” You asked, cheeks flushing, a bit embarrassed at the fact that you rambled on so much.

But it was then that you noticed Copia’s beautifully odd eyes were sparkling with crystalline tears, threatening to roll down his painted cheeks as he gazed at you wondrously.

“Oh, Papa.” You whispered, already feeling tears pricking at the corners of your own eyes.

Copia gently cupped your face in his hands, stroking his thumbs against your reddened cheeks while you snaked your arms around his neck.

He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, tears finally spilling as his eyes fluttered closed. You kissed him back with needy fervour, pulling him closer closer closer and tangling your fingers in his soft grey hair. After pouring your heart out to him, you were desperate for this.

“Sei perfetta.” He only pulled away just enough to utter the words against your lips, the seriousness in his voice causing your heart to flutter. This man was so good to you; so accepting, understanding, encouraging. One thing was for certain, you could always count on Copia’s love and support for you.

In this vulnerable moment, you truly felt seen, validated, and loved. When he pulled away further to look at you, all you could see was adoration and pride swirling in his eyes, his chest flooding with emotion for you.

“Thank you, for trusting me and telling me. I know it is not sometimes easy, eh?” Copia murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“You make it so easy to talk to you.” You smiled, sniffling and wiping away a tear from your Papa’s pretty face. You felt so relieved, like a weight had been lifted from you. Copia wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze, and you rested your head on his shoulder while he slowly rocked you back and forth.

“I love you.” Copia declared, sounding as though he wanted to climb to the top of the ministry’s high bell tower and shout it to the world. “I love you more than you could ever imagine, Tesoro, do you know that?”

It felt as though a spark of electricity coursed through your veins. Every time your Papa told you he loved you, you felt as though you were flying. It never failed to make you feel like you were on top of the world.

“I love you!” You shouted, squeezing a chuckle out of Copia as your arms constricted around him tighter. “Oh, I love you, Copia! I love you I love you I love you!” You sighed dreamily, beginning to pepper kisses all over his cheeks, lips, nose, chin, and forehead. You adoringly kissed every line and wrinkle on his face, all while Copia’s gloved hands caressed you, wanting to touch you everywhere at once.

“I am so proud of you, amore mio.” He whispered praise after praise to you, intoxicated and lightheaded from the sheer passion he felt for you.

“Thank you.” You smiled, basking in the warm sunshine of Copia’s love.

“Take the rest of the day off, Papa. Please? Let’s go lay in bed and watch movies and make love.” You nudged him, and of course your darling man could never say no to you.

“You seem to have read my mind, Dolce.” Copia grinned, and you sighed as he placed a slow, chaste kiss to your lips.

So you laced your fingers with his and walked down the corridor together, stealing dreamy glances at one another and relishing in the feeling of being completely and totally in love.

“So, you don’t see me any differently?” You asked with a smile.

“Of course not, Dolcezza. You telling me this has only made me adore you more.” Your Papa replied happily. “Eh, in fact… Everything you have described, Dolce… well, I feel the very same way for you. So, ehm, perhaps…” He trailed off, blushing under his paints.

“Perhaps…?” You questioned, clearly intrigued.

“Perhaps two demis make a whole..?” Copia grinned sheepishly, causing an excited smile to spread across your face. You pulled the man in for another passionate kiss as he unlocked the door to his rooms, the two of you stumbling and practically falling through the door.

You felt silly for even feeling nervous at all earlier, because through all this, you realized that you and Copia truly were made for each other. And you couldn’t be more thankful to have your other half.

𖤐 the end 𖤐

[portaltothevoid]

Console the Griever - copia x gn!reader

Grief is a fickle thing. It hits everyone differently, some more-so than others. We all have to learn how to deal with it and sometimes, no matter how long it's been, we just need comfort and a safe space to feel. Reader is dealing with it being the first anniversary of the loss of a loved one and Copia steps up to be the one they can lean on.

warnings: grief, loss of loved ones mentioned (no descriptions), everything is kept as vague and broad as possible to fit many situations, emotional hurt/comfort

word count: 2.8k

ao3 link

You could feel your insides shaking, your leg constantly bouncing. The work day was almost over. Freedom was so close, even if the only thing you did with that freedom was stay secluded in your room drowning yourself in memories of things, of people, you could never get back. 

A notification popped up on your phone. One of your friends sent you a meme, most likely. That seemed to be the way you communicated lately, solely through memes. The energy to have a full conversation was nowhere to be found and you couldn’t be bothered to look for it. Your eyes fell on the date. 

Knots twisted in your stomach. All day you’ve tried to ignore it, but it was bound to catch up to you eventually. Scrunching your eyes shut, you focused on your breathing. This could wait until you got back to your safe haven – it had to. You took a stuttering deep breath as you organized papers on your desk. Biting your lip, you hoped these tasks could wait until Monday. Staying on track wasn’t an option today, no matter how much you wanted to. 

“Topolina, before you go, could you just email these idiote (idiots) and tell them we have a petting zoo for i bambini of the Ministry for educational purposes and not for ritual sacrifices.” Copia pinched the bridge of his nose as he returned to his desk after setting down the information you needed.

“Of course, Cardinal,” you said quietly, after a brief and quiet laugh left you.

“It’s Papa now, cara,” he solemnly corrected you. 

Great. Another slip up. Your shoulders slumped at your mistake. Couldn’t you just get it together? “Sorry, Papa, I keep forgetting…”

“Ah shit. So do I,” he chuckled as he wiggled his fingers at you, now covered in his white face paint. He wiped it on his black, designer tattered pants absentmindedly before he frowned, having spread the white paint elsewhere. A nostalgic sigh was pushed from his lungs. “I miss my white suit,” he muttered.

“Me too,” you mumbled.

“What was that, cara?”

“Uh, I said, I know you do,” you quickly spoke, covering your small slip up. Your only further response to him was a tightlipped smile. It was just pleasant enough and all you could manage. An angry email. That was your mission right now. Then freedom. You could write a brief angry email.

As you went on with your task, you missed how Copia’s brows furrowed in concern. He knew you’d been acting differently lately. He wanted to chalk it up to just an off day; everyone has them once in a while. Then you started to smile less, his stupid jokes and quips that would always make you giggle barely made you give him more than a “ha.” Something was going on, and even though you were his assistant, a close bond had formed between you both. He hated seeing you turn into a shell of your former self.

Once the email was sent, you felt the crushing weight of the shadows in your mind fighting their way to the surface. You needed to get back to your room. Your breathing started to quicken and your hands were shaking. “Email’s sent. I think that’s it for today, unless you need something else…” you trailed off, praying to Lucifer himself that he would allow you to go home for the day.

“No, no, that was it.”

“Okay, I’ll see you on Monday,” you responded quickly, gathering your things.

“You’re not going to be at dinner?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Um, no, I don’t think so… well, uh, maybe, I don’t know,” you rambled.

“Is everything alright, dolcezza?” You froze at this question. Dolcezza was a rare term of endearment. It carried more weight than the others. This wasn’t Papa asking you, it was Copia.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Your pitch rose, betraying you just enough to earn a raised eyebrow from him. You tried to make your voice sound happier, more even. “Everything’s okay. Just a long week. Case of the winter blues, you know how it goes…” When he didn’t respond right away, you finished making your way to the door. “Have a good weekend, Co– Papa.”

Keeping your head down, you rushed back to your room. With a pounding heart and a heaving chest, you breathed out a shaky sigh as your hand lingered on the now closed door. You threw your bag down at the foot of your bed before you fell backwards onto it, staring up at the ceiling. Dragging your eyes to the window, you noted the weather. Exactly the same as last year. 

The memories sucker-punched you the instant your mind made the connection. Tears rolled down your temples, and before long you were choking back sobs, not wanting the sound to carry to the nearby rooms. Bringing your hands to cover your face, you curled into the fetal position, where you let the wave of emotion, of pain ride its course. 

How had a year gone by already? How had several gone by? You were no stranger to loss, but it never gets easier. All you wanted was to just stop everything in the sense of responsibilities and duties and expectations. It was getting more and more tiring to hold it together in front of everyone. You were seconds away from breaking down today in front of your boss. Even before his… promotion… the two of you could have almost been considered friends, he had just experienced a multitude of losses himself and you couldn’t dump all of this onto him. He had enough to deal with and you certainly weren’t about to add anything to his already full plate. That being said, there were also the formalities that had to be respected. 

You had no idea how much time had passed since your sobs had quieted. A ding from your phone pulled you back into the present moment. Curiosity got the best of you to at least see what the notification was, despite planning to ignore it. A grimace pulled at your features as you saw it was from Copia. Ideas of what the text could contain raced through your mind; you forgot to do something important, he needed you to come in for a bit tomorrow, another email had to be sent, you really fucked who-knows-what up and you’d be reprimanded… Biting your lip in apprehension, you slide the notification open.

Papa Emeritus IV:  Are you sure you're alright dolcezza?? You really haven’t been yourself lately… I hope this isn’t too forward. I just worry about you topolina mia. I am free tonight if you need or want to talk about anything. –C

Well, that was certainly unexpected. You threw your phone on your pillows like it was a hot potato. A blush reddened your cheeks as your heartbeat sped up, finally not because of anxiety. 

He was just being nice. There was no need to read into this. With how much time you spent with him in his office, albeit in a work environment, of course he would know some of your mannerisms. He was incredibly smart. He didn’t get to where he was by being stupid. That being said… perhaps he would be the one to really be able to understand what you were going through. 

Over and over you read that text, your mind racing. Should you respond? What would you even say? Do you want to talk to him? Why is he being so insistent? 

Darkness fell over your room, so you got up to turn on a light, but that just turned into you pacing as you tried to decide what to do.

Again, you lost track of time ruminating in your own world. Your eyes widened when a soft knock at your door stopped you in your tracks. Taking a deep breath, you cautiously went to open the door.

Copia was waiting outside, chewing his lip nervously, as he held two plates of food. “I’m sorry I–” you both said at the same exact time. 

“Go ahead, Papa,” you nodded, encouraging him to go first. It still felt so strange to refer to him by his title.

“I, eh, I noticed you didn’t really have lunch and… you weren’t at dinner, so… I just wanted to bring you this. I promise I won’t bother you again. Well, until Monday. I guess it’s your job to be bothered by me, no?” he laughed nervously as he rambled.

He was here because he cared. So, you listened to the little voice in the back of your mind that was whispering to you how you were more than just an assistant to him.

“Th-thank you…” was all you could manage to say, in shock by the kind gesture.

“Have you been crying, carissima?” he whispered softly. Okay, and then with his use of carissima… That was a new term of endearment, which made your heart skip a beat.

“Is it that obvious?” you laughed humorlessly, but it died in your throat when you saw him regarding you with such concern. You stepped back, giving him room to enter. “I guess I could use some company if you want to have your dinner here… if you’re still free?”

“Certo, certo. For you? Always,” he said as he stepped inside. “I was, eh, hoping you’d say yes.” The shy smile he gave you melted your heart and you swore you saw the slight blush under some spots of his fading papal paint from the long day.

Although your apartment was on the smaller side, it was still large enough to have a kitchenette and a small seating area. One of the perks of having worked alongside senior clergy members for years. As you got some utensils and drinks from the fridge, Copia set the plates on your coffee table while settling down on the loveseat in the corner.

He smiled at you as you set down a couple juice boxes for him and some for yourself. “Before you say anything, I haven’t felt like going into town so I had to dip into the stash I save for you when I need to restock the minifridge in your office,” you chuckled. 

He just shook his head. “Everyone’s always hating on the juice boxes,” he playfully grumbled.

It didn’t hit you how hungry you were til you saw the plate of food in front of you and then when you realized he brought you your favorite. “Wait… how did… This wasn’t on the menu for tonight’s dinner, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t, but sometimes it’s worth it to take advantage of the perks of being Papa.”

He had literally gone out of his way to do this for you. Blinking back tears, you murmured a quiet thank you when you knew you weren’t going to start crying again from his kindness. “How has it been, now that you’re officially Papa?” you wondered in an attempt to keep the conversation light so you could actually enjoy your dinner.

“Eh, it’s pretty much the same as it’s been for the last couple of years. Well, as far as duties and things go, for me at least. They treat me with… a little more respect than before,” he shrugged. 

“I’m still not used to calling you Papa,” you admitted.

“Please, don’t,” he responded quickly. “When it’s just us, call me Copia. I don’t like… I don’t think there has to be such formality between us. We’ve, um, worked side by side long enough…”

“It’s nice to have a sense of normalcy?”

“Sì. Sometimes it just reminds of… what they did to get me here and…” he cleared his throat. “And I’d just prefer you use my name.”

You nodded, knowing he was referring to his own series of losses. Not wanting to encroach on heavy topics yet, you steered the conversation to movies you’ve seen recently, a book you thought he might like, et cetera.

Once you both had finished eating, Copia insisted that you stay put while he cleaned up. When he sat next to you again he turned and wondered, “Did that help you feel a little bit better, dolcezza? I really can’t stand to see you so… hurt.”

You nodded. “It did. It really helped get my mind off everything for just… a little bit. I can’t thank you enough, Copia. You… you have no idea how much this means.” Anxiously, you stared at your hands in your lap as you fidgeted. 

“This week… it’s the first anniversary of her passing, isn’t it?” he spoke with sincerity and a cautiousness as if you might break.

Biting your lip, you nodded again. “You remembered,” you stated.

“Of course, cara.” He took one of your hands in both of his. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I’m here for you, if you need me. You’re safe with me, always know that.”

The tears started to well up again. You couldn’t tell if the pressure in your chest was from the surmounting grief you tried to stuff down or from the gratitude of Copia trying to break through to you. “I can’t do that to you,” you shook your head, avoiding his mismatched eyes. “You have your own stuff to deal with. I can’t pile my shit on top of it…”

The hand on top of yours moved to cup your face as he turned your head so you could look at him. “If I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t be so insistent. I’m okay. Sure, some days are worse than others. That’s grief. It… it never goes away, but what changes is our ability to handle it and have space for it, to navigate it.”

As you looked into his eyes, you felt the dam break. Tears spilled over and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself be fully vulnerable in front of someone else. Without hesitation, he pulled you to him, cradling your head against his chest as his other arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him. This time, you weren’t solely sobbing from the crushing grief and memories of the past, but because finally you felt like you were able and that you wanted to share with someone everything that you had been keeping under lock and key. 

When you had calmed down enough to talk, you told him your story. You started with how you had lost one of your parents when you were young, how much it still bothered you, how you recently lost another close family member and the anniversaries were so close together. You shared with him how this week you just tried to keep your head above water. You were so afraid of disappointing him, but were too overwhelmed. He just listened. He took it all in stride as he soothingly rubbed your back to keep you calm and grounded. 

“So much of that I’ve… I’ve never told anyone,” you confessed.

“Do you feel better, lighter now?”

“I do. I didn’t realize how much I needed that. I… Just… Thank you, Copia. Thank you for listening, for insisting, for just… being here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, carissima.” You couldn’t help but give him a quizzical look as you tilted your head to the side. “What’s that look for, hm? Do you honestly think I’ve thought of you as only my assistant? All this time?” His hand cupped the side of your face again with his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

“All this time?”

“Sì. You mean more to me than you know. I couldn’t stand to see you in so much…pain. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to keep my feelings to myself any more. I just hope–”

All inhibitions left you and you couldn’t stop yourself as your hand finally reached up for him to pull him close, stopping his words as your lips met his. The kiss was gentle, but the affection you both had, and could finally admit to both yourselves and one another, was unmistakable. When you parted, Copia couldn’t help but quietly laugh. “You feel the same, I take it?”

“I do. I mean, I have for quite some time now. It’s not just because of this moment…” you trailed off trying to find the right words. 

“We take things slow, then, sì? Even if just for tonight,” he smirked playfully. 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you nuzzled your head into his chest while wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him tightly. The ache was still there, but it had dulled considerably thanks to Copia. The smile wouldn’t leave your face as your space for your grief having grown two sizes. You didn’t have to go through this alone. Not anymore. Neither did he for that matter, because when the time would come, you knew you could be just as strong and supportive for him as he was for you. And there was no one else you’d rather have by your side.

🖤🌹🖤

[imthepunchlord]

Zodiac Heroes Poll: Mouse

Another idea I kinda want to play around with and plan for is the chaos of Fu only having the Chinese Zodiac and he releases them all to spite and deal with HM, cause how dare he misuse a Miraculous.

Only there are 12 heroes and a struggle to decide who gets what as possibilities are endless. I have tried and just kept going back and forth and constantly changed my mind.

So for fun, let's do them in polls! I'll be doing three a week, and provide links to other polls as they get released.

Choose very carefully, as each Zodiac will have a variety of potential characters to use it. What character wins in this poll is what they get and that option is removed from future polls.

Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, Pig

Mouse Miraculous will have the power Multitude, which can clone the user endlessly, all clones are mentally linked, though the clones will have the same physical capability as the user with no additional strength, speed, or agility. Clones are also very delicate, and will poof away out of existence from a single hit. When clones are dismissed or return to the original, the 5 minute timer will start.

Mullo is a kwami who is quiet and impish. One of her favorite pastimes is pull pranks and messing with humans. She is competitive and thrives for success, preferring it through subtly, cunning, and resourcefulness. She values wit and cleverness, and urges her humans to think out of the box, and to go for what they want, any means necessary, even making use of others around you and their unique strengths. If she likes a human, she can be very affectionate and helpful, but if not, she will set up humans for failure as a (spiteful) lesson, and for her own amusement.

[mxssingmemories]

the s'mores incident // david rossi x teen!reader

summary: you spend a day at your uncle rossi's house, and he has marshmallows for you to roast at the fireplace. unfortunately, you forget that things near fires are, in fact, hot.

wc: 1k~

warnings: a burn injury

a/n: this is the first fic in the 12 days of christmas challenge!! i'm so excited to start this with you guys :)

“Hey, Uncle Rossi!” you smiled as you walked in the door of the agent’s home, backpack in tow. He smiled back, grinning as you looked around. “What’s all this? I know you normally go all out but this is…different.” you questioned, one eyebrow raised as you surveyed your surroundings. Normally, your uncle decorated like a “normal” person- a tree, lights, stockings for the team, and other little decorations here and there-but this year it was a little different. 

“Can you please tell me why it looks like Christmas exploded in here?” you asked, running a hand through your hair. To put it blatantly, there were things everywhere. Lights were up in every room you could see, and there were 6 nutcrackers on the fireplace. Six nutcrackers! You pointedly looked away from the tree, choosing to process that later. “Also, why is there a fire going? I thought you only did that when the team is here?” 

“Yeah, well, things change topolina. As for the fire, I thought you’d want to maybe roast a few marshmallows? I know you’re older now, but-” he was cut off when you effectively barreled into him. He feigned annoyance as you jumped up and down excitedly, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"You know me too well," you exclaimed, giggling as he affectionately ruffled your hair.

"That's what uncles are for, kiddo," he winked, rolling his eyes once again as you gagged.

You loved Christmas at Rossi's for a lot of reasons, but the fact that he made sure you felt at home was a main one.

The marshmallows were laid out on the fireplace along with a few skewers. A quick glance into the kitchen revealed a bunch of graham crackers, and you chuckled at the fact that he thought you'd be making that many. There were probably about 30 set out on the table.

You sat down on the couch by the fireplace as you watched him work. You had to admit the flames from the fire felt nice, the heat allowing you to shrug off your coat.

"Ready to start?" he asked, eyes gleaming as he extended his hand to you. With a nod, you took the skewer from his outstretched hand.

"Hey, be careful before you get to close to the glass, it's really hot," he warned, eyeing your hand that was already dangerously close to the aforementioned area.

"I'm not a baby," you sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. Carefully, you positioned the marshmallow on the skewer before holding it over the flames. You felt the heat on your face as it began to roast, turning a golden brown. Unfortunately for you, you'd forgotten the words your uncle said to you only 30 seconds ago, and placed your hand directly onto the glass.

"Shit!" you yelped, immediately jerking your hand back as the pain started to kick in. You shook your hand rapidly, Rossi's running footsteps drowned out as your hand burned.

"Hey, come on, passerotto, let's get that bandaged," he said gently, pulling you up by the shoulder and guiding you to the sink. He turned on the cool water, running his hand in the tap to check the temperature before moving your hand under it. The cool water soothed your hand almost immediately. It was in situations like these that you really your uncle's ability to keep a clear head. He jogged over to the first aid cabinet, pulling out some aloe vera and a bandage.

"Can I touch it?" he quietly asked, and when he received a nod from you, he uncapped the aloe vera and put some on your hand. The relief was instant. The water could only do so much, but having the gel on your hand cooled it down a lot more. You watched as he carefully wrapped the bandage around the burn, making sure to not put pressure where it wasn't needed. Your focus was taken off of the injury as your eyes fell back onto the kitchen table. You perked up quickly as another thought entered your head.

"Can I have a marshmallow?" you asked him, smiling when he looked at you incredulously.

"Didn't you just get severely burned, or did I imagine that?" he mocked, looking from your hand to your face and back. You held eye contact with him, not faltering under his stern glare. The Rossi Stare was something you'd been used to receiving for upwards of ten years-it didn't really affect you anymore.

"Fine," he relented, walking over with you to grab a marshmallow. He tutted as you tried to grab one with your injured hand. "Watch yourself, kid," he warned as he handed a cooler s'more to your uninjured hand. You nodded your thanks to him as you popped it into your mouth. A comfortable silence fell over you two as your uncle did the same, a satisfactory look falling on his face at the taste.

"So, can we maybe roast a few more?" you asked, refusing to look at him. Rossi stared open-mouthed at you. "Come on, there's like, 20 left! Please, Uncle Rossi? You're my favorite uncle!" you whined, and the last sentence was a cherry on top as he relented.

"Alright," he surrendered with a sigh, handing you a skewer. You bounced up and down, thanking him repeatedly as you ran back to the fireplace. You returned to your original spot as your uncle's eyes watched you.

"Questa maledetta bambina," he muttered under his breath as you fumbled with the skewer. "Hotch is gonna kill me."

[angelstraiqhtfromhell]

i wanna talk about my oc now so i’m gonna tell you about the first time she called Copia papa.

It’s about a year after she starts living with Copia full time, and little Piper bursts into his office and rushes up to his desk, holding something in her tiny fingers with a huge, wonky grin on her face. "Papa! Papa! Look!!! I lost a tooth!! See?" and she gives him her cheesiest, ear to ear grin, showing off where her front tooth used to be.

Copia almost chokes on air, "O-oh my! Topolina! That's wonderful! Come, let me see." He waves her over to come around the desk and lifts her into his lap, tilting his head back so she doesn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes. Piper presents her tooth to her papa, and he gently pats her head and tells her, "Good job! We will put it under your pillow tonight for the tooth fairy.”

After he puts the tooth somewhere safe and sends her on her way, he breaks down and cries like a baby. That little girl is healing his inner child and she has no idea.