#it's always easier to talk to a real person and that's coming from me who hates talking to random people om the phone

[orcelito]

God I don't wanna go to therapy tomorrow. Sick of talking about my feelings in a clinical setting. I do enough psychoanalysis just by myself, and now I gotta sit through it with someone else??? Come on.

[insomtiny]

bro i called dhl and i kept getting pissed at the damn robot cause he kept repeating the same things and wouldn't transfer me to a person and i literally had to lie about my call not being about a shipment's status for him to finally do it and i feel like i got a little testy with the girl who answered and i feel bad 😭

[salemlunaa]

THE ACT OF SHIFTING CONSCIOUSNESS IS OWED TO YOU ❃

No matter what your aims are, shifting is for you and will always be easy.....

There are many things people can do with the void state/the state pure consciousness, and no matter what you are doing you need to know that shifting is owed to you. And in my asks and dms it’s made clear that a lot of you don’t know the different forms that shifting can come in

So before i get into it, Let’s get acquainted with the different ways you can utilise the void in terms of shifting!!…

Standard shifting

A person who will shift with the intention of coming back to where they are now aka their base or current reality. Being this person, you may have multiple drs you want to go to and will have “safe words” which can bring you back to your cr when you want

example: having a winx dr, having a kpop dr and a nepo baby dr at the same time, frequenting between each one, or which ever one is their “main” dr

Permashifting

A person who has one reality that they want to shift to, forever, perma-shifting= permanent shift, you can still have ties to your old reality and have memories from it but ultimately you can’t go back unless you tried to by shifting again, which wouldn’t be that much of a hassle because you still have some recollection of your old reality

example: Leaving your old reality while still having some recollection of the life you live before. You live this life recognising that you have shifted to get here and you are still somewhat tied to your old reality

Respawning

Being this person, you will have one reality that you live in forever. It’s kinda in the name, you reset, as soon as you shift consciousness to you desired life, it was always your life, you will cut ties with whoever you were before and live this way forever. A lot of people script a time stamp in which they forget everything, you will have pre prepared memories from birth up until the day the present day. You are expecting to live the rest of your life in this reality.

a smart example from a dm from one of my consenting mutuals: “I’ll shift there and it will be 02:00 I’ll be all excited about the fact that I shifted, have time to give my success story and bawl my eyes out from sheer happiness, and around 4 hours in (about 06:00 ) I will forget everything and fully cut ties with who I used to be and the life I used to live”

I want you to resonate with one and apply your knowledge where you need to because shifting consciousness is owed to you. Whether you’re doing it for a small while, going to multiple realities or one big shift of your consciousness cutting ties with where you were before. It doesn’t matter, it is owed to you and it is easier than breathing.

If you have a conscious mind, which yes you do or you wouldn’t be reading this, then you have a subconscious mind, and that means that shifting consciousness is a basic ability for you.

There is no such thing as something too big, one form of shifting isn’t “easier” or “harder” than another so whatever you wanna do, don’t be scared, you’ve got this!! There is a reason you’re here. Your subconscious mind knew you didn’t deserve all that you went through and all that you are going through and it led you here. Because of the horrible way humans have been conditioned, we live in a world where people mock shifting which is ironic , as it is a basic ability just like walking and talking, except it uses the mind and not the physical body. I want you to think of your desired reality/realities, whether you are thinking of 12 or 4 or 1, you need to understand that your desired life already exists, you already have it. It’s not a dream, you’re god, you give life to all that you touch with your mind.

I don’t think you really understand so I will say this again:

what you see: script + void/“I AM” state ➯ my dream life is finally real, me and my physical body are finally in my dream reality

you see yourself and some small part of some bigger process, when in fact, you are everything and everything is instant

what actually happens: i’ve created my dream life in my head ➯ as god i give life to everything my i touch with my mind, there for it is real

it’s an immediate chain of events, not a process. stop relying on the I AM state to give you something you already have, the void state helps you shift consciousness to a reality that is already there, and nothing more than that , it doesn’t create, you have already created. you have the power, the void is just a state of pure consciousness that helps you shift your awareness to which ever reality you wish to go to.

side note: As a respawner, all are welcome here, especially my fellow respawners and my permashifters (it’s nice to see both communities grow as i never used to see posts for permashifting or respawning)

no matter what you intend to do with the information you have learned on this app, your desired reality is yours, it was owed to you the second you thought of it

so stop doing nothing about the information you have, you don’t have to struggle in life, throw the teachings of society out the door and realise you can have all that you want, whether that be 1 dream life or 20!! LOCK IN MY LOVES

GET EXCITED ABOUT YOUR NEW LIFE/LIVES, ITS OWED TO YOU!! 🎆💋

[hopeastrz]

PISCES AND NEPTUNE THROUGH THE HOUSES: where you are most iconic, ethereal and utterly unreachable‧₊˚⋅♡🪻 ༘⋆.

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.

Pisces is the sign that oozes allure, wherever it falls in your chart may tell you where you are most inspiring and hypnotizing to people, and they can never match you there!.

NOTE: enjoy this post and don’t forget to reblog, thank you for your support almost at 3k heheheh, lots of love xoxo!! ₊˚⊹౨ৎ

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 1ST HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE AC.

unforgettable, there’s something about your face that can’t be ignored, you may have a real unique sense of style, a unique face feature, or striking head and hair volume/color, there’s just something special about your appearance, that’s why you may find lots of people trying to copy your style!, but they can never match your confidence, not even close, and you may have a very spiritual and inspiring personality or outlook on life, your presence itself is also quite enchanting, truly the unreachable visuals.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 2ND HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 2ND HOUSE.

the way you handle money is unique, your scent, or the way you just don’t care about materialistic things in an era where you are judged by what you have and have not, you also like to keep vintage and high valued/high quality stuff as dear possessions to you, which makes people idolize the way you keep them & cherish them, same thing about the way you view your self worth, also you have an enchanting singing voice, or you’re music taste itself is iconic.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 3RD HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 3RD HOUSE.

Speaking about voices, you may have a very alluring way of talking, you may have a soft or a dreamy— almost sleepy and quite voice which makes people envious of the way you express yourself, alas they try copying your mannerisms constantly, your mind is also one of the most alluring things about you!, the way you think and view things— the way you have a bunch of interests that makes people surprised by your knowledge, or you’ve had had a very pristine early education (like you went to a very expensive school where you learned something valuable enough to be envied by) or you have a bunch of unique siblings, like they may be famous or just quite decent and loved.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE IC.

People idolize where you come from, the country you grew up in or your family!, you may have a royal blood running through your veins (yep im exaggerating but your parents are loved), people may idolize your house, your mother, grandparents or always try to glamorize your childhood, also your femininity is very enchanting!.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 5TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 5TH HOUSE.

People idolize your talents, you may have many talents that you’re pretty good at!, you’re creativity is also iconic, people you date for a short period of time and places you go to for vacations— people get fascinated because you only pick the best places or people who look very magnetic and just different, like people be like ‘how did you pull this man!’ or they’ll just find them good after you choose to date them.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 6TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 6TH HOUSE.

You may have a very different daily routine that surprisingly makes sense?, like it may seem kinda messy but it really is effective, you also me be the type of coworker who puts alcohol in a flask or water bottle during work to pass the day, also you may be the one who comes up with the most iconic ideas, even though you feel shy to speak them out loud!, also your coworkers may be attracted to you!.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 7TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE DC.

You are the ideal and perfect partner anyone could ever dream of, and im talking both in business and marriage!, you know how to make things easier for people around you, very helpful and ready to give all your resources to others without expecting anything in return, and that’s your iconic role, the way balance between things is very admired

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 8TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 8TH HOUSE.

You’re a great secret keeper, and you cherish your privacy, which makes you unreachable, only few people know everything about you, about your past and goals, you may be very spiritual too!, and reading people is a talent of yours which makes you iconic, you’re emotionally intelligent and could easily know someone’s intentions towards you from the start which makes you so iconic, also you’re obviously an icon in the sheets too *wink*

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 9TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 9TH HOUSE.

Iconic in the way you think, you don’t really have the same beliefs as everyone else, you are philosophical, very knowledgeable and quite educated, plus very very spiritual, you may enjoy reading fantasy novels, or you even write iconic novels yourself!, also you may have been found to be very hypnotic to people with you in uni, since you might’ve been seen unreachable around then!.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 10TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE MC.

Your work speaks for itself, and your reputation may be the best thing about you, you are known to be innocent or very kind & compassionate, also unreachable!, your reputation is unmatched either good or bad, very strong work ethic too and dedication to your profession!, your bosses may feel that you’re very unreachable in your work ethic!.

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 11TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 11TH HOUSE.

The most iconic and compassionate one in your friend group, you may be kinda different from them, like if they all date you don’t, if they all do certain things you probably wouldn’t, and people may find it hard to befriend you since you seem like an ideal friend and you may even be idolized on social media (nara smith has this placement), so don’t mistake this as you are lonely because something is wrong with you, everyone would really love to have you close

PISCES OR NEPTUNE IN THE 12TH HOUSE | PISCES DEGREES 12°, 24° ON THE 12TH HOUSE.

Very spiritual, your instincts are unmatched and truly unreachable, your dreams may suddenly come true, and you may also have a very strong self concept so work on it!, your subconscious mind is your way to be iconic, always trust it and have faith in yourself, i would recommend reading about law of assumption, neville Goddard and non-dualism!, you will go places if you used your mind right!.

[barcaatthemoon]

better off alone || barcelona x teen!reader ||

the team finds out that your foster parents left.

you were dead meat. jona wasn't there to vouch for you anymore. this season was sure to be your last. barcelona was on the verge of being done with you, and you weren't ready to go somewhere else and start over. having someone there to take care of you in a new city would be easier than your current situation, but you felt like you had found a family in your barcelona teammates.

they cared about you more than anybody else had. you had been bounced around foster homes and care facilities your entire life. this family wasn't good by any means, they had left you all alone after all, but your teammates more than made up for it. you had finally started to feel like a real person, and it was going to be yanked away from you in a matter of moments.

"where the hell have you been? you do know that we have a game later today, yes?" alexia grabbed onto your arm and dragged you inside. you stumbled a little trying to keep up with her. you were nearly an hour late for the pre-game training, but arrived just in time for the team meeting and the warm ups.

"sorry i was late, i tried to get here as fast as i could," you told her. it was the truth, and alexia was mad enough about you being late that she wouldn't pry. that was something you liked about dealing with alexia, her anger often clouded her judgement enough to never look too closely at the small details. she was easy to lie to because she'd generally accept the first excuse you threw her way.

"just go to the locker room, i'm going to talk to your parents," alexia told you. you wordlessly walked to the locker room and changed into your practice kit. you took the first open seat you saw, which was next to irene near the middle. everybody else was filing in as well, so you didn't draw too much attention.

"we missed you this morning," irene said calmly as she put her arm around your shoulders. you instinctively curled into her side. she didn't know the specifics of what you went through at home, but she always made sure to take care of you when she could. most of the team knew how close you were, but only alexia had an issue with it. she believed that irene babied you too much and that's why you were so "irresponsible" in alexia's eyes.

"sorry, i didn't have a ride here," you told her. you always told irene more than you'd ever tell alexia or the other captains. marta was torn between being tough on you like what alexia wanted and caring for you like irene did. you liked her well enough, but you didn't really talk with her much. patri, however, she was the one who you truly avoided whenever you were in a troubling situation. she took alexia's words to heart, and the two of you often butted heads.

"where are your parents?" irene asked.

"it's a long story," you mumbled. irene didn't like that answer and was about to press for more when alexia burst through the doors echoing the same question.

"(y/n), where are your parents!" you winced at the sound of alexia's voice and all of the eyes turning towards the two of you. you tried to turn into irene, but she wouldn't let you. with everybody staring at you and your secret on the verge of being put out into the world, you did what you knew how to do and bolted.

nobody made a move to catch you as they assumed you'd run towards hte exit alexia was blocking. that was how you made your escape, going the long way and making it all the way out of the stadium from the back. you ran until your lungs were burning, and then you ran just a bit further knowing that nobody was going to just leave and chase after you until after the game. you may never get another chance to play for barcelona, but you were on the way out anyway.

…

"you've got a lot of people scared right now. i know that you're probably also very scared right now, but i need you to come back with me please." of all the people you had expected to find you, olga wasn't very far up on the list. you knew alexia had to have asked her to look for you, but olga didn't know you well enough to know about your special spot.

"how did you find me?" you asked her as you stood up. you were a good few inches taller than the woman, always having been tall for your age. you seemed to still be growing, just half an inch shorter than fridolina.

"alexia gave me her phone, which has your phone's location. i don't know what use it is for her, she can't figure out how it works in the first place," olga laughed. you let her lead you back to the car without running away. "so, um, do you want to talk about what happened?"

"i was late for team stuff again, and it's not like they'll renew me. my contract has been up in the air for months now, and after this, i'm done for. maybe i can go somewhere else, but that's getting put in another home. i can't do that again, so i ran off hoping that nobody would find me," you rambled. olga took everything you were saying in, staying silent as she processed it.

"has anything happened at the home you're in now? alexia mentioned your parents a couple times, but not in a while," olga asked you. she looked like she was working through things in your head.

"they're gone, like for good. apparently, taking care of me wasn't worth the check. i've got too many obligations to keep up with," you repeated their words to olga, whose grip tightened on the steering wheel. the two of you ended up catching the last bit of the game, and olga brought you up to sit with alexia's family.

there were a lot of eyes on you, whispering going on around you because you weren't on the field. when the whistle blew for full time, you were brought down to the field. you tried to hide behind everybody around you, but it was no use. your practice kit stuck out in the sea of normal barcelona jerseys. it made it easy for your teammates to come and find you.

"ale, before you say anything to (y/n), we have to talk," olga said. you were grateful for the woman as your captain was led away. the other captains followed them at alexia's request, and you could see them talking to each other from the corner of your eye.

"don't be so scared of her. ale's not as scary as you think," alba said as she squeezed your hand. "just look at how olga bosses her around."

"they're going to fire me," you mumbled. there were tears in your eyes, ones that all of the people around you had been waiting for you to let go. it was obvious that you were terrified, and most of the people not on the team could see you for the scared little girl that you were.

"relax, go get yourself a drink and sit down," eli told you. her tone was gentle, yet commanding. there was no room for you to disobey the woman, so you grabbed the bottle with your name taped on it and sat down on the grass. nobody had approached you yet, even though you knew that your teammates had seen you. they were all waiting for one of your captains to go over there first.

instead of one of them, you got all of them. they stood around you in a circle, waiting patiently for you to acknowledge them. "i guess you know about my foster parents now."

"we do, and that's why we're giving you options. you can't live on your own, not this young. you are a part of this team, one of us, and we take care of our own. it's not permanent, but you will need to pick one of us to stay with for a couple of weeks while we talk to the club," alexia told you. you looked at the women standing before you.

"i don't understand. aren't you still mad at me for being late?" you asked her. alexia shook her head as she knelt in front of you.

"my anger has been misplaced, and i am sorry about that. i've been harsh on you, and i have been shown the error of my ways. for official purposes, you have to stay with one of us, but after that, other arrangements can be made," alexia promised you. you looked between all of them, overwhelmed with the option to choose.

…

"does this make me eligible for the norway camp?" you asked as you looked at the signatures on your adoption papers.

"what are you talking about? you're spanish," marta said as she ruffled your hair.

"actually, i'm not. they don't really know where i'm from, i just play in barcelona," you told her. marta's eyes widened as she raced out of the room to call alexia. you glanced at caro, who was trying to hold back a smile. "you aren't going to try and stop her?"

"oh please, we both know that you wouldn't play for another country. you're spanish in all the ways that count." she had a point, even if you'd never tell marta. you thought it was kind of funny watching her and alexia come up with more and more propaganda and bribes to keep you in a spanish kit. soon enough, they'd enlist the rest of your spanish teammates to the cause.

"yeah, but look at her. it's funny," you pointed out. the two of you walked out to the car, just in time to catch marta trying to plot something over the phone. you sat in the back of the car as they took you home, glad to finally have a permanent home with people willing to truly look after you. you weren't just a check to marta and caro, which was a welcome change.

[worldlxvlys]

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Observations- 013

I notice Cap Mercurys think so maturely even from such a very young age. These were those kids that always wanted to hang around people older than them. They are old souls at heart and sometimes it’s harder for them to connect with more childlike energies. People their age can see them as boring because of their serious demeanor.

Leo Risings never like to show the sides to them that make them look bad in anyway. These people have big egos so any assumption from others that they aren’t anything but great can take a big toll on their self esteem. They come off so confident but most are really insecure & don’t think they are interesting so they tend exaggerate a lot of facts about them to keep people thinking they are really interesting and amazing. (U guys don’t need ti do that people already think you are before you even speak)

Capricorn risings always look so annoyed when people are speaking to them. Most of the time they are. They have very honest expressions and when someone says something stupid or uninteresting they are more willing to show their uninterested while most are just willing to smile and take it out of being polite. This is why they can come off as rude or snobbish but really the just don’t have time for bullshit. (I definitely think Wednesday Addams has this placement) many don’t know they are being rude but most don’t have the energy to be fake if they really don’t like what the others saying. Very Real people many mistake them for being Scorpio risings.

Venus in Scorpios were probably shamed a lot for their their sex appeal/drives. I notice these people have a very provocative vibe to them that causes a lot of ppl to sexualize them ( especially the women). I’ve seen women with this placement be virgins and still get slut shamed. People always assume they sleep with mad people even if it’s not true.

Moon in 5th housers are actually very secretive about their talents. A lot are so talented but most tend to keep their hobbies and interests to themselves unless they really trust you.

When someone with Venus in the 7th house likes you they will talk about their future a lot with you. This one guy had a big crush on me and would always joke about getting married and starting a life someday ( he made it sound as a joke but in a way I can tell he meant it). Also can be obsessed with weddings. I have a friend with this placement who says she’ll only wanna get married to experience having her dream wedding lol

Venus in 2nd house women always have people buying them things bro. They don’t even have to ask and men will be buying them expensive gifts or paying for their food or trips. Definition of pretty privilege.

Mars in Aquarius like very eccentric things in bed. It’s almost like they enjoy the opposite of what should be expected in bed. Like the women would like to take normally the male role in bed and vice versa a man with this placement could like a very submissive role. The weirder and more out of place the more turned on they get. Can also be really experimental they are willing to try anything once even if it’s outlandish.

Mars in Aries are usually natural athletes. They have amazing endurance and can become pros faster than most.

Virgo moons usually have bad stomach problems or eating disorders. They are also always giving unsolicited advice no one asked for. They feel this need to solve everything but it can come off as kinda judgmental.

Mars in Pisces are usually victims to bullying. They usually have a hard time asserting themselves and standing up so they get pushed around a lot easier by stronger more dominant energies.

Cap moons are always in denial of their feelings

Mars Square Venus synastry can be really awkward at times in a friendship. Theres this bizarre sexual and touchy tension usually that both aren’t fully comfortable with. The mars person can come off a little too strong and can treat the Venus as if they own them. This attraction can be one sided sometimes with the mars person wanting the Venus and the Venus getting repulsed and distancing themselves. I’ve seen the mars person get jealous if the Venus would hang out with others whether it be other friends or family. And if the Venus is dating someone else this can get really heated on the mars end. Venus will feel the attraction but I notice it’s not as strong.

Venus in 5th house synastry is soooooo flirty. These are those cheesy cringey couples that are always acting like little kids around eachother. It’s actually a really sweet placement. This person will be able to bring out your inner child.

Venus in Libras are always crushing on someone. They jump into relationships I think faster than people with Venus in Aries the only difference is that they can maintain longer term partnerships & don’t bore as quick (even if their feelings are a little superficial). They just don’t know what to do with themselves when they are alone.

Scorpio risings I notice get really strong reactions out of people (like Lilith/asc people) their words make others blood boil even if they really don’t say anything offensive or rude. Most people are jealous of their authenticity which is why a lot of Scorpio risings are quiet and not as willing to open up. People just hate on them so intensely for the littlest things. They also have this ability to know if people are genuine or not which can be intrusive to certain people causing intense reactions. They can see thru everyone’s mask which can make other feel uncomfortable to be around them. This is why they usually have few friends and the friends they do have are as authentic as themselves. Literal human lie detectors

Men that have a water sun with a water moon are BIG SIMPS

Cancer sun women will be passively rude to you if they don’t like you or are jealous of you. They won’t straight say it but they will say little comments in a nice way that’s actually really rude. Then usually play victim if confronted

Everyone’s crush in high-school was either a Scorpio sun or a Libra sun/rising. Tell me I’m lying

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[redsrooftopprincess]

Monster

Raphael x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Happy Monsterfucker Pride Month you fucking deviants. 😈 Here's a present.

There are a lot of words that come to mind to the average person upon meeting the Hamato clan. "Thing" is pretty popular, and "Freak" is always a classic, but by far Raphael's least favorite is "Monster."

That one tends to stick around, like a "Hello My Name Is" sticker, even after first meeting. The others have an easier time. Leo's the calm, cool one, Mikey doesn't need any help making friends, and Don's got that cute nerd thing going on, but Raphael is big, quiet, and Close Quarter Combat has left him with more scars than clear skin, making an already ugly situation worse.

So when he was sitting at your desk while you were hanging out one night and a notification popped up on your computer, the word caught his attention.

"What is a... 'Monsterfucker?'"

You're not sure sure if anyone has ever died from asphyxiating Dr. Pepper, but you wonder for a moment if you'll be the first.

When you can once again breathe, you look up at him raising a brow at you, "You good?"

"Yup," you croak out with a nod and a thumbs up, clearing your throat, "good."

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, "So... You gonna answer my question, or...?"

Damn. You were hoping he'd suddenly magically forget that he asked.

You've been holding off on coming clean to the guys about this particular personality quirk. You're conflicted because, while it would do wonders for their self esteem, it would more or less be the equivalent of wearing a big sign around your neck that says "HEY RAPH! I'M INTO YOU!" You're still trying to figure out how to approach him about it, and whether or not doing so would ruin an already amazing friendship.

Apparently, you aren't going to get a choice.

You clear your throat, procrastinating, and looking down at the Halloween coloring book you've been working on so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Well..." You clear your throat again, "... a Teratosexual... or... 'Monsterfucker'... is someone with more... exotic... preferences," you cringe internally.

"Exotic as in...?"

"Exotic as in... non-human." You say, making an attempt at sounding casual, suddenly very focused on the cat you're coloring.

That was not the answer he was expecting.

The longer he's quiet, the louder the heartbeat in your ears.

"So you're... not... into humans." He ventures hesitantly.

"Not generally, no..." You say, still not looking at him. Your face is burning.

"Oh..." He says, sitting back and attempting to process, "So what kind of, uh... monsters, I guess... are you, um..." He can't believe he's actually asking this question.

"Depends," you say, thankfully without your voice squeaking.

"On..."

"On... who they are as a person," you say, "just like anyone."

He's quiet again, and you resist the urge to look up at him. He's running through moment after moment with you in his head. The looks, the touches, the gentle words, all those times he kicked himself for reading too much into things...

You tense as you hear him get up and walk over to your side of the bed. the mattress dips as he sits down beside you, and a hand comes up to still the hand coloring. You look up at him, heart thundering in your ears as his thumb brushes over your wrist.

"Now, I could be way off base," he says softly, "and if I am feel free to tell me and I swear I'll never bring it up again... but sometimes I feel like you and me, we..." He takes a breath, "What are we? Friends? I mean, Donnie's your best friend, but you spend all your time with me, and... um..." He trails off.

"Is that what you want...? Friends...?" You ask, hesitantly. You're talking about it. Everything the two of you have both very purposely avoided talking about. The time, the touches. You're talking about it, making whatever the hell this is real. Which means the next words out of his mouth could either build or break you.

"Honestly, at the risk of possibly ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me... No."

"Honestly," you say, breathless, your heart doing backflips, "me either."

"So... If not friends, then... what do you want?" He asks, holding your gaze.

He watches every one of your reactions closely. Any sign of unease or discomfort and he's going to bail. But there aren't any. He's pulled to you, and he closes what little distance there is, a blush blooms across your cheeks and chest.

"Honestly..." You whisper, "you."

He inhales sharply, and looks down at you in awe for a moment, heart pounding behind his armored chest. Exhaling, he cups your face with his other hand, brushing his thumb over your jaw before sliding it back slightly and tilting your head up to him.

"You sure that this... that I'm... what you want...?" He's vibrating. Everything in him is screaming out to take you. Claim you. You're right here. You're giving yourself to him. Anyone else would have just kissed you by now. But he isn't anyone else, and this isn't exactly a normal situation. He has to be sure.

His soft caress is sending sensations rippling down your arm, and you can barely breathe for the ache in your chest. The night they met, Mikey had been injured. Badly. So badly, that they had to drop in at April and Casey's even knowing there was a stranger there.

He stood in the corner and watched you like a hawk. You were new, and new was dangerous. He watched you jump in to help Donnie with whatever he needed, eyes clear and calculating.

In the moment, you were too focused on making sure D had what he needed to save his brother's life, but the memory set your skin on fire.

"Pretty much since the beginning." You whisper, nodding.

He wastes no more time. You've wanted this as long as he has and that thought sends a surge of heat through his bloodstream. He releases your hand and slides his around your waist, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap, and as flush against him as he can. He's been dreaming of this since the moment you met.

It feels right. Natural. Like you should have been doing this all along, but the moment the hand against your cheek slides into your hair, gripping it gently, and you can feel the rumble in his chest within your own, any whispers of regret are forgotten.

All too soon, he pulls back, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath.

His forehead pressed to yours, you look up at him curiously when he starts laughing softly.

He beams down at you, "You know, on the list of shit I though was gonna happen... ever..." You smile up at him, laughing gently as well. He looks at you with elated, if not confused, eyes, "You got any idea what you're signing up for."

"Pretty sure, yeah," you grin.

They all tried so hard to be human, but it was the hardest for Raphael. Whether it was a result of his mutation, his wildly inconsistent emotional states, or some combination of the two, he was the closest of the four of them to their primal nature.

That night, and the hulking figure in the corner, like some kind of ancient sentinel watching over his charges, was a memory you had come back to so many times you're pretty sure you could recreate it perfectly, not that you would want to.

You pull back slightly to look at him, and bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. You look down at his lips, brushing your thumb over his scar, you've always wondered what it felt like, "... and I think I've been handling it pretty well, so far." Your eyes meets his like the period at the end of a sentence.

Looking at you as if you were the only thing he's ever really wanted, he presses his lips to yours far less tentatively this time, growling into the kiss.

You rest your hand on the back of his head as he kisses down the curve of your throat, nuzzling against it and leaving traces of himself on you. You don't miss the significance of being marked as His and something warm and grateful fills your chest.

He works his way back to your mouth, kissing you deeply before pulling back. He looks down at you, still in almost disbelief.

"I want to see you..." He says, breathless, running a finger just under the hem of your tank top. He looks down before meeting your eyes once again, and you would shudder if you weren't pinned down by his gaze.

You smile, pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You had no idea what you thought his reaction would be to finding out everything, but this was way better than you could have hoped. Gooseflesh scatters across your skin, though you're not sure if it's from the change in temperature, or the way his eyes laser focus on on every inch of you. They light your skin on fire, but he doesn't move.

"You're allowed to touch me, Raphael..." you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours, "I want you to." He inhales sharply, fingers already tingling, he hesitates for just a moment before a calloused hand brushes tentatively over an already hardened nub, making you shiver.

His hand covers your breast and he squeezes gently, the sigh that ghosts from your lips emboldening him.

When he dips his head and captures the other in his mouth, circling with his tongue, the whimper that escapes you as your eyes fall closed is nearly his undoing.

One of your hands rests on the back of his neck, while the other guides his hand lower. As he caresses your waist, his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment and leaving your pulse racing.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, and from the way his churr has deepened, it's evident he can smell your arousal. His fingers play at the waistband of your shorts, but no further.

"This doesn't have to go any farther than your comfortable with," you reassure him.

"It's not that, it's just..." His cheeks darken, "I'm not... um..."

"Human?" You venture, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah..." He says before laughing softly, still not entirely able to process that this is happening, "But, I guess... that's not really a problem for you, is it?"

"Nope," you say, offering him a wicked smile which leaves him swallowing hard.

You smirk and reach up to tug at his paldron. "Feeling a little one-sided here, Red," you say looking over all the clothing and equipment he still has on.

He exhales, a permanent smile of disbelief resting in the corner of his mouth. Him. You want him. You climb off of him, laying back on the bed, and he stands. He sheds his gear and clothing as you look on hungrily, reclined on the bed like a God damn empress. His tail twitches. You aren't just letting him have you, you want him right back, and that is doing amazing things for his ego.

As he's removing the last of his clothing, he glances down at your shorts before meeting your gaze with a brow raised in expectation.

You narrow your eyes and smirk, pushing yourself up and standing beside the bed, before pushing your shorts from your hips and letting them slide to the floor. Now it's your turn to look at him expectantly as he tosses his red mask on top of his gear and takes the few steps towards you.

He looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and if you ask him, you are. With fabric no longer impeding, he is glutting himself on your scent and his head is swimming as it takes everything in him not to drop right there.

Your eyes roam over his body greedily, drinking him in, something you previously could only ever do in secret, and he shivers. You can't help it, you reach up a hand and hesitate for only a moment before placing it on his chest, following the labyrinthine whorls and channels in his plastron. He's cool and hard under your fingertips, and rough in many places where the keratin has been damaged.

"You know what kills me?" You ask softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep scar, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are," you step forward, pressing your lips to the deep groove. You're rewarded with a sharp inhale and the rumble in his chest against your bare skin.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you into him as you kiss upward along the length of the scar. Your softness caresses him, and warmth pours through his shell, filling all the parts of him starved for sunlight. A deep hum reverberates inside of him when you reach the divot in the top of his pectoral scute, and kiss the scarred skin just above.

You look up at him, whispering, "Will you let me show you?"

He looks down at you, and he looks terrified. But he nods. He trusts you.

You take his hand and walk to the end of the bed. You close the door to your room, the light flashing in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

"Sit," you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, leading him to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He does as he's told, and you climb into his lap, also facing the mirror.

You take his large hands in yours and guide him, showing him how you like to be touched. He watches your reactions to every movement closely, and it isn't long before he's confident enough to explore on his own. His fingers trail lightly down your side, following the line of your hip slowly inward. He stills, waiting to see if you're going to stop him from moving forward.

You don't.

He holds your gaze, watching your features change as his fingers slip into your folds. You gasp as he teases you slowly, and it isn't long before you're near trembling.

You're eyes fall closed, and your mouth falls open as one finger finally pushes into your soaked center. You lean back against him, whimpering as his finger curls, brushing against the soft part inside of you, before pulling out and pushing back in. He repeats the action, slowly, and again, slowly. He feels you clench around him, writhing impatiently, and looks up at the mirror.

Flush and trembling in his arms, one hand nearly covers your abdomen, the contrast of your smooth skin and his pebbled scales looking almost intentional, color and texture complimenting each other perfectly. The other continues disappearing inside of you and drawing from you the most exquisitely frustrated sounds. And it's him. He's doing all of it. His oversized, inhuman hands are creating this moment.

There is no other word for it than "beautiful..."

Your lust blown eyes open to meet his as you whimper and twist in his lap. "f-fuck..." he shudders as he drops, gripping you tighter.

The corner of your mouth turns up slightly as you meet his reflection's eyes. Trembling, he angles himself to rub against your sex, coating himself in your slick, pulling a small sound from your throat. You're already so wet and ready, and when you tilt your hips and capture his spade-tipped head, you are very grateful for that.

The burn as you stretch around him is glorious. He's bigger than you were expecting (and you were expecting), and a deep moan is pulled from you as you sink down on him slowly, your eyes falling closed.

You still once he's buried to the hilt, both of you needing a moment to adjust. When you open your eyes, his are still closed. His arms hold you tightly around the waist, and measured, trembling breaths ghost over your shoulder.

He needs a minute. This is new for him and the worst thing he can imagine right now is for this to be over before it starts. You are so soft and warm and tight, and he can feel your heartbeat pulsing in the walls around him, and if he doesn't get some kind of control, he's going to bust right here.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror. His fingers find your clit again, and he strokes it slowly, groaning, his head falling back, when you clench around him.

In an involuntary search for friction, your hips rock against his and he gasps, his other hand tightening around your waist, and he's never been more grateful for years of training in meditation.

He breathes heavily for a few moments, and once he feels like he has his bearings, he holds your gaze and tightens his grip on your hips, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back in. You can feel his churr inside you and you shudder as he sheathes himself again, feeling the vibrations of his desire scatter outward from your center, leaving your fingers and toes tingling.

You move together in a slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He's going to remember every single second of this for the rest of his life. Whatever happens next, this is his. This moment. This feeling. He's wanted a lot of things in his life - peace, acceptance, love -, and for this one shining moment, he has all of them. For this once shining moment, he has you.

This beautiful, brilliant goddess of light and mercy is with him, wants him. You are watching him in the mirror as if he is something sacred. Divine. This broken deformation of something that isn't even a man, held in reverence, and he is filled with something indescribable.

His head falls to your shoulder with a deep moan, as a fire ignites inside of him. Not the one he's used to, there is no burning rage. No barely contained fury. This is not the fire of battle, but the fire of a forge.

Red hot iron burns in his veins as years of doubt and insecurity are boiled away. They didn't matter anymore. Every weird, unacceptable mutated turtle thing he had to deal with. Every scream of horror at his terrible visage. Your light. Your heat, is burning it away. Allowing him to make something new. He leans back, lifting you and bucking up into your harder as that heat fills him, and with every thrust, something in him is reshaping itself.

You could see it in his eyes. That fire of creation. And if you thought he was beautiful before... He holds your gaze with open purpose, unsure but ready for anything, pouring that fire into you. The catalyst of his recreation. And for the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he deserves something good.

And, Gods, you felt SO good.

He's transfixed, his hand reaching around to find your clit again, moaning as his mouth descends to your neck and shoulders. Needing to pull more of those exquisite sounds from you. Every one of them ringing through him like a struck anvil.

A smirk turns his lip as he stands, growling, and you brace against the door as he shows no signs of slowing. His large hand comes to cover yours on the door, wrapping around it. Eyes no longer fixed to the mirror, gaze downward, watching the way you stretch around him as he disappears into you, he can feel his release building as your body flexes around him.

The fire roars under your skin as his speed and strength increases, capturing every sight, sound, and scent, and tossing them back into the flames.

You're beyond language at this point, grunting and whimpering with every thrust. You can feel him in every part of you, until there is nothing left in the world but him and the burn of him filling you completely.

You can feel the pressure building as he growls low and sparks shoot up your spine, his hot breath crashing over your shoulders in waves as he is lost to you. He wraps his arm around you, leaning back and pulling you flush against him as his eyes fall shut.

You are consumed by the flames, arching against him with a cry as white fire streaks through you, the pressure breaks, and you are undone. Raphael follows with a roar, gripping you tightly as he buries himself in you. A second wave crashes over you when you feel him spill himself inside of you, your body milking him dry.

Trembling and breathing hard, you sit back and hold each other as you come down together. You meet his eyes in the mirror, and he's looking at you in reverence and gratitude, like you're his own personal miracle.

Because you are.

He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your shoulder and breathes deep, pulling your scent into his lungs as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Glancing up, he watches himself drip out of you, staining the rug below. You are flush and exhausted, but smiling as your heart rate and breathing slow.

After taking a few moments to clean up. You crawl back into bed together. He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smile up at him, happy, truly, actually happy, for the first time in... ever? That can't be right. It feels right. All you know is you've never been happy like this.

It won't last. It can't. He's too special. And now he knows he has options. "Just think, when you get bored with me, there's a whole community of people that will also find you hot." you chuckle softly. It was only a matter of time, right? You were nothing special.

His smile disappears.

How could you think...

"Y/N, I don't want anybody else." He says softly, sure.

"Raph, you haven't met anybody else." You counter.

"Fuck anybody else. Everybody else. I got it in one, and I ain't about to question that." He presses his forehead to yours.

You smile at him in patient, loving, disbelief. "Okay, Red."

He raises his head to look at you. "Want me to prove it? Fine. Give me a few years, I'll have you convinced."

This gets him a laugh. "Years?" you really like the sound of that.

You grin up at him. You really, really like the sound of that. But moments later, you cringe hard and start giggling, a clear sign that your brain has interrupted with something ridiculous. "Okay okay okay, I'm gonna say it. I have to say it... I've created a monster."

"If I'm lucky," he says. You look into his eyes as he smiles down at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You better be prepared for me not to be able to keep my hands off you," he says with a smirk.

"Y/N..." He groans and covers his face with a pillow while you cackle.

"No wait, see? Now you can't hate that word anymore because it will remind you of sex!" You chirp delightedly.

"You can't possibly be fucking serious right now..." He says, muffled by the pillow.

The next several minutes are spent with you vehemently defending your joke, while, delightfully annoyed, he quietly admits to himself that being a Monster might not be all that bad.

...

Happy Pride Month, my Monster. I love you. ♥️

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

—we belong to you and me

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

[eluxcastar]

Dottore giving child reader a check up

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle

You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.

Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.

Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be. 

The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.

There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.

Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.

One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.

Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."

You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.

"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."

The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.

Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much. 

Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.

"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.

You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.

The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.

He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.

You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.

Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer. 

Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.

You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you. 

Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.

"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.

Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.

What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.

You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.

Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."

He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.

You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—

"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.

He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.

The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.

Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.

"Lift your head." 

This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.

Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.

Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.

Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."

You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.

"Do you know if you're able to speak?"

You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.

"Are you able to make any noises at all?"

You nod. You know the answer to that.

"But not speak in full words?"

Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.

"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"

You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this. 

"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.

Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.

You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.

"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."

Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that. 

You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.

Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.

"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety." 

That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.

You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times. 

Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.

Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.

You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.

Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.

"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."

That's it?

You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,

You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.

He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.

"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.

You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.

You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.

Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: in the land of delulu.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Steam rises around you as you lower yourself into the water. It might be relaxing but your flesh doesn’t meet porcelain. Instead, you lay across the man who sighs beneath your weight. Just as soon as you recline, Lloyd’s arms are around you. 

You flinch as he grabs his other arm and squeezes you close. You tense as he remains completely lax between you. He’s relaxed and confident. He knows he has control. 

“Ah, jellybean, isn’t this nice?” He rocks you with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” He’s right, you don’t. The more he talks, the more you suspect he’s been watching you for longer than you realise. And he talks a lot. “You and I. Happy. Together.” 

He unclutches his hand and it wanders up your naked chest. Goosebumps rise at the reminder of your nudity. He’s the only person who’s seen you like this. He’s the last person you would want to. You squirm as you feel him harden beneath you.  

His other hand walks to your thigh. He tickles your skin and pushes his fingertips firmly into your soft flesh. You shudder as his touch sends a tingle through you. 

“So, since we’re doing this the not-so-fun way, how about a trip to Las Vegas? We can hit a drive-thru chapel then stop at the casino. Gamble a little, fuck a lot--” 

“Vegas?” You echo. “I...” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re classy, aren’t you, bean? Yeah, that’s not right. Vegas. For my wife. Did you know you can get married pretty easily in Hawaii. And it’s gorgeous,” he purrs. “You’ve never been to Hawaii.” 

You wince. Each time he tells you how much he knows about you, you remember how little you know of him. Where did he come from? How did he find you? And what kind of man nonchalantly gasses someone one out after a whole stalking campaign? This is absurd. You just can’t believe it’s real. 

As he fondles your chest, you’re assured that it is very real. 

“Your heart’s racing,” he shifts his hand to spread flat above your tits. “You’re excited. Me too, bean. Me too. I promise, this ain’t just about the sex. Which I am very much rock hard about. No, jellybean, this is about us. About us expressing our love for each other. Sealing it. A pact to be together. Forever.” 

He laughs. You might even call it a giggle. He nuzzles your hair and hums. 

“Look what you’ve done to me. I feel like a teenager. I’m... I’m just... happy. I’ve never been more certain of anything, bean,” he purrs as he flutters his fingers down your stomach. “You know, I always thought marriage was stupid. Women, they were fun. Something to play with.” He pets your pelvis as he speaks. “I know, I know, I won’t mention the past. You don’t need to know about my mistakes. I was lost without you, jellybean. Stupid. Those women. Sluts. They mean nothing.” 

You stiffen and catch his wrist. His splays his fingers, then curls them. 

“I know, I’m getting impatient. Promise, I’ll be your good boy. I can wait.” He hooks his other arm around you. “Tell ya what. We’ll relax, get freshened up, then we can go book our flights, and look for a pretty dress.” He rambles on as you stare at the ceiling in horror. Everything you say is just a hurdle he easily jumps overs, “and some sexy lingerie. Only the best for my, bean, right?” 

It’s a good thing he can’t see your face. As clueless as he is, you think your disgust would be all too obvious.  

🩷

Lloyd has everything ready to go. Tickets, luggage you’ve never seen before, and even a passport. You never had a passport. You never travelled and you could never spare the money for the expense of it. That eerie suspicion rises again. How long has he been plotting to dismantle your entire life? 

The question hardly matters. You can’t go back. He’ll make sure of that. He already has. What is there to go back to? An empty apartment and no job. You doubt the company will buy the ‘oh sorry, I was kidnapped’ excuse. 

As unprepared you are for any of this, the airport is well beyond anything you can bare. As you enter, you’re struck by the sheer number of people and the noise alone is enough to make your ears itch. You stand in line with Lloyd, searching around for any sliver of hope. This is it. You get on that plane, and that’s the end. 

You cover your ears as your head begins to pulse. Lloyd nudges you as the queue moves ahead of him and you pull your luggage along. He hands over the boarding passes and your IDs, then helps get the bigger bags onto a cart. He retrieves his phone and the passports and leads you off towards security with only your carry-on. 

You shrink down as you’re crowded on both sides. Lloyd startles you as he rubs your back. You glance over at him with wide eyes. 

“Once we get through security, we can head over to the diamond long, jellybean. Less crowded there,” he keeps his arm around you, “only the best for wifey.” 

You turn your head straight and stare at the back of the stranger in front of you. You hate this. You never enjoy being among the general public but this is all too much. There’s so much sound and people and moving. It’s chaos. 

You hold your breath until your eyes threaten to bulge. You slowly let air through your nose as your eyes flick back and forth. You want to run but there’s nowhere to go. 

Lloyd ushers you forward and your feet drag. When it’s your turn, you walk through the scanner then stop for them to wave a wand around you. You wait as Lloyd collects his watch, phone, and wallet from the tray. 

He comes to you and takes your carry-on from you. He directs you around as you look around at the people rushing by. Faces blur and voices blare. You only move in hopes of being free of this. 

He leads you through a tunnel and the wall of noise fades behind you. You come into a lobby with a desk labeled Diamond Lounge. A woman greets you with a chirp but it’s much preferable to the chattering and yelling of before. 

Lloyd shows your boarding passes again. The woman says something but you can’t discern her words clearly. You're tugged by your hand into another room. 

The lighting is softer and the space is sectioned by leather seating and mounted televisions, and low tables. There are artificial fires set into the walls and pillows waiting on the cushions. You follow Lloyd to a couch and he sits you down beside him. 

“Hey,” he puts his hand on your shoulder, running his thumb up and down, “jellybean, you okay? You look foggy.” 

You look at him and cough. Your chest aches from holding your breath. You nod and sit back. His hand slips away from you. 

“Bean?” He murmurs. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Another woman in a white blazer similar to the one behind the desk appears. She pours two glasses of bubbly wine. You watch her and say nothing. 

She leaves and Lloyd caresses your knee. You stare at his hand. The dress he put on you chafes. You want jeans and a tee shirt. 

“I...” you begin hoarsely, “hate people.” 

He stills his hand and covers your knee, “I know, baby. Me too. We’ll be okay. It won’t be so bad from here.” He drags his hand away and takes the stemmed glasses, “here,” he offers you one. “Cheers.” 

You take it and hold it up. He clinks his against it but you do not drink. He sips but stops himself. 

“This will be good for us, jellybean. Just think, a proper wedding would be overcrowded, overpriced, and overdone. You know,” he leans towards you and grins, “what I love about you, besides the fact that you’re gorgeous from head to tits to ass to toe, is that you like simple things.” 

You blink at him and take a gulp. This isn’t just a flight or a shotgun wedding, this is your whole life. This man, this maniac, is never going to let you go. 

“You need anything? You hungry? You want a blanket? You can relax, baby--” 

You think about that more. He’s as good as giving you a life sentence. With him. It’s not just terrifying, it’s enraging. He’s enraging. He never stops. 

“I need you to shut up,” you snap without thinking. 

He recoils and his brows arch, “jellybean?” 

Your mouth opens and you stare at him. You wait for him to explode. To say something. He just looks at you, stunned. 

“I said shut up,” you repeat shakily. 

“Oh? I’m sorry, bean. I know you get a bit stressed from everything going on--” 

“Shut.” You trace a finger through the air, “up.” 

He takes a breath then shuts his mouth. He nods and pouts. He bats his eyes at you and sits back. You watch him uncertainly. He just looks back at you. You turn your attention to the glass of wine and drain it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. 

🩷

Every little girl, every woman dreams of their wedding. Don’t they? 

No. Not you. Not ever. Never. Not in a million years. And to that man? 

To your surprise, the plane ride is quiet. You have your first-class seat and a pair of earbuds and an almost worryingly quiet neighbour. Since you barked at him to stop talking, Lloyd has obeyed. The longer he stays silent, the more you worry.  

Is he angry? You don’t want to care if he is but this man is dangerous even if he is ridiculous. He did gas you out of your former life. 

You disembark and he gets the bags. All of them. He’s suffocatingly servile. He loads the rental car and opens the passenger door for you. The only words he utters are ‘jellybean’ or some other redundant pet name. 

You chew your lip as you stare out the window. It’s gorgeous. It takes until that moment for reality to hit. You’re in Hawaii. You’re far away from home. Further than you’ve ever been. The beauty of the island battles with your displacement. 

The hotel is just as immaculate as the rest of the scenery. Lloyd checks you in and sends for the bags. You go to the balcony and stare off at the ocean as he fumbles around the suite. 

“On its way?” He says into the phone. “Yeah, that’s great. And the minister? Mmhm, yes, right on the beach.” 

You slump and cross your arms. You want to just fold into yourself. Maybe if you bash your head against the window... 

“Jellybean,” Lloyd calls to you. You cringe at the glass doors and turn your head slightly. He approaches, almost demure in his posture. “I don’t want to ruin our special day but there are a few things we still need to get ready for tomorrow.” 

You face him fully and stare. Now he wants your input? 

“You know I love you, right, bean?” He says, his lips twitching. He smooths his mustache with his fingers then shakes his hand out. You don’t have an answer, just an endless stare. “I’d do anything for you.” 

Love? Really? Right. He knows you as much as you know him. Not much. He might know about you, but he doesn’t really know you. And do anything for you or to you? Or to keep you? Because none of this is what you want. 

“Your dress will be your something new, and something old is your ring. Did I mention it belong to Elizabeth Taylor?” He smiles sheepishly, “so you just need something blue... I was thinking a garter? And something borrowed...” He puts his hands together and wiggles free his pinky ring, “you can try it on? Or just put it on a chain.” 

You squint at him. He’s crazy. That’s obvious but he really is. He thinks this is a dream come true. Not just his, but yours. This is an actual nightmare. 

“Well...” he takes your hand and presses the ring into your palm. “I know you need to rest before the big day so there’s some wine and whatever in the mini fridge. I can get you some champagne? Or something else? Are you hungry?” 

You shake your head and pull your hand from his. You turn away and look back through the window. You watch the coast and the peaceful lapping of water. You can’t be there right now, not mentally. So in your head, you’ll run out into the waves until they swallow you up. That’s much preferable. 

“Jellybean,” he says, “I’ll shut up now.” 

[biribaa]

I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them

Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!

-🧪Anon

Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them

I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.

TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted

Kinger

Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J

Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.

Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.

He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.

Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.

Caine

While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.

You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?

"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.

Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.

He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.

With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.

And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.

Ragatha

Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.

Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.

Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!

Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.

Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.

The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.

[idksmtms]

Golden Globes (Cillian Murphy x reader)

Summary: Written from the perspective of press and viewers of the golden globes; how cute are Cillian Murphy and his girlfriend Y/n L/n?! From the red carpet to his acceptance speech, look at what a mesmerising couple these two make!

Word count: 2,250

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, very slight profanity, mostly just fluff (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario. 

AN: Inspired by Yvonne and Cillian actually being the cutest couple ever at the Golden Globes. Also, if you catch the sneaky Succession reference: mwah! Edit: Just watched an interview clip where he says everyone calls him Cill as his nickname and I will be gratuitously using that from now on.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :) 

Part 1: Red Carpet 

“And next to arrive onto the red carpet is Cillian Murphy! He’s a favourite to win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama Motion Picture, and I mean, rightly so, he killed it in Oppenheimer!” 

“Right?! And I have to say, whoever styled him tonight knew what they were doing, because mmm chef’s kiss right there.” 

“For real, but knowing him he probably grabbed an old suit out of his closet and put it on, hahahah.” 

“I bet he wishes, but Y/n would never let him, and there she is! Oh look how stunning she looks! For all our viewers who are unaware, that’s Y/n L/n, Cillian Murphy’s girlfriend and the other half of our favourite couple!” 

“Is that a vintage Schiaparelli?! Um, someone did not come to play. Aw, look how cute they are, he refuses to let go of her hand. I want a man like that.” 

“The way he smiles at her?! You can really tell they love each other, and awwww she’s blushing!!! You guyssssss, I can’t handle this.” 

“Hahahah, she’s forcing him to go out and strut his stuff, how sweet. That’s the definition of a supportive partner right there, always wanting you to have your moment to shine.” 

“Honestly, and like, I know we’re supposed to be watching Cillian but guys look how SHE watches him. That’s true love right there, and no one can convince me otherwise.” 

“D’you remember that interview where he talked about the little gifts she gets him at the end of each of his movies?” 

“Oh my god yeah, that was adorable, she makes him something small to remember each of his movies, like she knits or crochets or crafts something for him right?” 

“Yeah, exactly, well apparently, since this was his sixth movie with Nolan, she made the little tokens for all the producers and like the lead team. I was in TEARS when I heard, because who is that sweet? Like who is THAT sweet to their partner’s whole team?” 

“I didn’t know that, oh my god, I love her even more. No wonder Cillian loves her, I get it, I fully support it.” 

“Ok, seems like Cillian’s done getting his pictures taken and- aw! He’s looking for her! Cillian, bestie, she’s right there, ok ok ok, they found each other. Look at that hug!” 

“A man who adjusts the train of your dress like that to help you walk easier??? That is a man worth having, and Cillian Murphy is clearly the best man. Gosh look at the way she leans into him when they walk, and he’s just rubbing her back all soft and sweet, aaaaa I think I’m gonna melt.” 

“Oo! Ok, they’re going for interviews and the next person to come up is…” 

Part 1.2: Interview 

“Hi Cillian! How are you feeling tonight?” 

“I’m doing well thank you, a little nervous I guess, how are you?” 

“I’m great! Having a lot of fun here at the Golden Globes! How did you enjoy the red carpet? Any chance to meet others yet?” 

“Yeah, it’s grand, very… opulent, heh, and no! Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to properly greet anyone yet, but I’m sure when we get inside I’ll have plenty of time for that.” 

“Alright, let’s talk about your movie for a bit, how does it feel to see all the recognition it’s getting?” 

“It feels deserved, you know? Everyone worked so hard on that film and put in a hundred and ten percent and it feels like people have really noticed it and seen not only the talent but the effort the team put in.” 

“Were you expecting such resounding fame for the movie?” 

“I mean, I definitely knew at least some people would watch it because Chris made it, hahaha, and people have recognised how amazing he is, but I guess you never really know how popular a movie is going to be until it comes out. But it’s truly amazing to see how it resonated with audiences.” 

“You’ve spoken in past interviews about the importance of a strong and accepting support system for people in this line of work, how did such an intense movie fit into your life?” 

“I mean, I treated it like I treat all my roles - it is a job at the end of the day - but it’s always great to have my family willing to put up with odd schedules and having to be away from home for long periods of time. My girlfriend, heh, she’s actually really great with this stuff. She always makes sure to call me while I’m away, she comes to visit as often as she can, and she just has this way of making anywhere feel like home, you know? Regardless of where I am, or what I’m doing, I can count on her, and that’s probably the best part of my life. It’s a really bad habit of hers but she stays up late with me if I have an oddly timed call or interview or whatever, just to be there with me.” 

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s amazing the way you talk about her, she sounds like a great person!” 

“She really really is. I mean, there’s some people out there who are just blessed with the biggest hearts and even just their presence can make life better, you know? And that’s her. I don’t know where I would be without her in my life to be honest with you.” 

“Oh how cute! Well, we’ll let you go, tell your girlfriend how much we love her, and good luck with your award tonight!” 

“Thank you.” 

Part 2: The Main Event 

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Cillian Murphy!” You let out a rather unholy shriek that you were sure would be caught on camera and posted all over, but you were too excited to care. You jumped up, grabbing Cillian by his shoulders and pressing your lips to his mouth and face, over and over until there were lipstick smudges across his nose. 

“You did it Cill! You did it,” you whispered, rubbing at his face to try and wipe away the lipstick. He had the lightest red splotches across his nose and cheek but they mixed into the flush on his skin so you let him be after a moment. Your face hurt from smiling, your whole body buzzing because finally, finally, he had gotten the recognition he had long deserved. 

“Oh boy, my first question, do I have lipstick all over my nose? Ah, I’m just gonna leave it. Um, I-I knew the first time that I walked on Chris Nolan’s set that it was different. I could tell by the level of rigour, the level of focus, the level of dedication, the complete lack of any seating options for actors, heheh, that it was-that I was in the hands of a visionary director and master. I wanna thank Chris, and Emma, for having the faith in me for-for twenty years, and six feckin pictures! So, thanks so much. Um, one of the most beautiful and vulnerable things about being an actor is that you can’t do it on your own, really, and we had the most incredible ensemble cast in this movie, it was magic, and some of them are here today. Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, thank you for carrying me and holding me through this movie. Um, thank you to- thank you! Uh, thank you to Dara Langley, and everyone at Universal for believing in this movie from the very beginning. Uh, oh! To all my fellow nominees - if you’re Irish or not - you’re all legends, stunning work guys, I salute you. Um, to all my reps, all my team, uh thank you so much you’re the best. To my girlfriend, you are the light of my life, the love I couldn’t live without, thank you for always being there. To my family, I’m the luckiest man, I love you, thanks so much guys!” 

Part 3: Top Ten 

“Hello everyone and welcome back to the ATN News youtube channel! Today we are looking at our top ten favourite Cillian Murphy moments from the Golden Globes and spoiler alert: they all have something to do with his girlfriend because, let’s face it guys, they’re our favourite unproblematic power couple! Just a reminder that we did similar videos for some other celebrities so you can check them out on our channel but let’s get started! 

Number 1: When they were walking into the hall and he held her purse for her! This is a personal favourite because I love someone who notices the little things, and the fact that he just kinda slipped it from her hands?? Cuteness overload. 

Number 2: This one is my personal favourite. During the break, the camera was just kinda moseying around and it caught them whispering to each other and just laughing. Look at how lovey dovey they are, leaning against each other, just whispering in each other’s ears. I really wanna know what they’re saying because I’m sure they are the most hilarious people on earth, but it’s also so intimate that I don’t wanna disturb them, you know? And she’s holding his hand in her lap aaaa! I have to move on otherwise I’m just gonna sit here and watch this all day. 

Number 3: Ok, at number three we have the couple’s red carpet glam moment! After getting some solo pictures taken, Cillian had Y/n walk the carpet with him and they slayed. I mean they slayyyyyed. Their outfits were amazing, their chemistry was amazing, their poses were amazing just- amazing. The fact that she did the little heel kick in one of the pictures?? Iconic. Cillian, Y/n, if you guys are looking for recommendations I would frame the picture where Y/n’s kissing the air just before Cillian’s cheek, it’s funny and it’s cute. 

Number 4: This is a moment from an interview he gave where they asked him about life with Y/n, take a listen. 

“You know she’s just the best. We both have our own strengths at home and I think they fit together so well and it just works perfectly. Like, I’m terrible at D.I.Y. Just absolutely hopeless, and good or not, she’s tenacious. If she starts a project for the house, no matter how hard, she will learn what to do and she will finish it. It’s inspiring honestly. Just every little thing she does inspires me.” 

Number 5: Halfway through and this might also be my personal favourite (agh I can’t choose!). When Y/n fed Cillian something from her plate?? Guys, when I saw that, I kid you not I almost melted. She just gently taps his shoulder, lifts her fork to his mouth, and feeds him. Was he too nervous to eat?? Did she notice and make sure he ate something?? Or is that just something they do? Like if you walked into their house at a random dinner time she might just randomly feed him something?? Either way, it was cute and I bet they make everyone sick with their love and I’m here for it. 

Number 6: Another simple one, but when he sat back with his arm over her chair? He just kinda leaned to the side and put his arm on the back of her chair and she just kinda shifted closer into his side- and they didn’t even stop their conversations with other people! They just did it! Being that intune with someone is just nghdhm. I have no words. 

Number 7: Alright, so some fan pics came out after the event of the couple leaving the venue, and look at this, he’s carrying her shoes for her!!! The pictures are a little grainy, but you can clearly see him holding the heels that she was wearing during the event while they walk to the car. She’s even carrying his award for him, what a bunch of cutiepies!

Number 8:  Another one from the fan pics - and another personal favourite (leave me alone) - is those cuties dancing on the street! I think it’s near their house and the pictures capture him twirling her, and they’re both laughing so much and then they’re hugging and Cillian’s just swaying her (all while holding that Golden Globe mind you) and they just look so happy and in love. Brb, I need something to tackle this overdose of cute. 

Number 9: Our second last moment is when Y/n kissed Cillian right before he went up to accept his award! Just, the scream, the kiss, the lipstick on his face, all of it is so perfect. And the fact that he left it on his face while giving his speech? Our king, have no shame, proudly show her love! 

Number 10: And of course, the final favourite has to be Cillian’s speech. He was funny, he was gracious, and honestly? It was perfect. If my boyfriend called me the light of his life in a room full of famous people, on a live broadcast that like millions of people are watching, I would probably just start proposing to him at that moment. Like he really said “the love I couldn’t live without” can you imagine that kind of devotion?! I want that. 

Anyway! Thanks for watching our top ten Cillian Murphy moments. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!” 

AN: Yes, I did transcribe his whole acceptance speech. No further questions.

Taglist: @4ria790

[smuthospital]

⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️

Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!

Art by Minagami

Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.

Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees

Miners DNI

You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.

The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.

"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!

Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.

“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?

You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.

You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!

He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.

To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.

He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.

He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.

A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.

He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.

He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.

"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...

He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.

You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.

He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.

It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."

You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.

[ejlovesvi]

Hi

Can I please request a fic with Taylor swift x fem!reader where they are in a PR relationship and reader is a really big actress and in her late twenties and she’s an introvert and likes to build legos and play Mario cart and she’s a big softie and incredibly sweet but the catch is Taylor and her friends don’t really like the reader whenever she has to hangout with them they always ignore her and make her feel uncomfortable and unwanted between them and one day she goes live on instagram or TikTok and she’s building a Lego with her fans it’s something that she does a lot and the Lego just happens to be a lovers house one to support Taylor and the fans just go crazy meanwhile Taylor is with her friends and they are talking about how the reader is annoying and weird and always quiet and then one of them mentions how the reader is live now so they get on to spy on her and they realize how nice and cute the reader is and someone in the comments asks the reader about Taylor and she starts gushing about Taylor with a love struck smile on her face because she secretly likes Taylor and wants to pursue her for real and then later on they start treating the reader better and they go on real dates together and it’s just fluff. Sorry this is long you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to I just had this idea for a long time and wanted to share it but if you do end up writing it can you make it with as much details and events as possible. Thank you so much

note: this is such a cute idea!! it’s fairly different because i changed it up a bit to make it easier to write. thanks for the request! not proofread.

IT’S LIKE I’M WASTING YOUR HONOR

pairing: taylor swift x fem!reader

warnings: taylor coming to her senses, sad but amazing folklore song

masterlist

to say you were in love with your PR girlfriend was an understatement. you knew it the from the moment you had met her and heard her laugh at a corny joke that slipped from your nervous lips. taylor had been incredibly kind to you and had seemed to notice things others had never thought to mention to you. you were doomed.

you two began a PR relationship for many reasons, the number one being that it would help taylor’s prideful content reach further to others who were part of the lgbtq+ community.

now obviously you knew taylor wasn’t as in love with you as you were her; or if she even really loved you at all. but you didn’t let that stop you. after all, you two were supposed to act madly in love anyway.

so now you sit here on live building a lover house lego set that the company sent you two. taylor left four hours ago to go spend some time with her model friends and you had simply kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good time as she left.

your eyes scan the comments that speed past and you catch onto one of them in particular. “does taylor show you her song writing process?” you read aloud the comment.

you think about the question for a moment, trying to figure out what you can reveal on live without getting a call from tree. you weigh your options and decide fuck it. with a smile you answer, “sometimes she does. it’s mostly after we’ve had a few glasses of wine that she sings to me. half of the songs i hear on guitar or piano end up scrapped in her notebook.”

you look down at your lego set and continue placing pieces together, all while continuing to ramble on. you try to fight the smile spreading across your face but the intense emotions at the thought of the blonde invade your mind like a thick smoke.

“it’s sometimes sad to hear songs get scrapped because they end up being my favorites.” you admit. “she’s just so talented and i love being able to see her grow as a person.”

a week later

it’s been a week since you gushed about taylor on instagram live. the repercussions ended in the internet going insane over your guy’s relationship and calling you two perfect for each other.

taylor had been acting different lately and the thought of her being upset over the live made you feel worried. what if she completely disliked that?

but as you sit in front of the brick fireplace with two wine glasses in front of you and taylor’s cats curled into the side of your criss-crossed legs — you let all those worries slip away.

taylor sits beside you, her body shifted towards you slightly. her fingers pluck at each string as she adjusts them to perfect tuning. the only light in the room elicits from the crackling fire contained in the fire place.

taylor looks up from her guitar to smile shyly at you, “this is a song i wrote last night, so it’s not perfect but i hope you like it.”

you tilt your head as you pet the cats beside you. taylor looks back down at her guitar and clears her throat, plucking at the soft chords before softly singing. “our coming of age has come and gone. suddenly the summer, it’s clear. i never had the courage of my convictions. as long as danger is near.”

you listen intently with a soft smile, watching her fingers skillfully move across the wood guitar with perfected ease.

“i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm. if your cascade ocean wave blues come. all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret.” she sings out, looking you right in the eyes for those specific lyrics.

she suddenly stops playing and swallows, looking at you with anticipation. you breath in as you take in the moment, analyzing the lyrics she just sang to you.

“those last lyrics are… something.” you breath out with a small nervous laugh.

taylor lets out a small chuckle and softens her gaze on you, “it’s true though. i’ve thought about my feelings for the past week.” she starts. “about my feelings for you specifically. this whole thing started for the public but getting to know you and experiencing your kindness has made me fall in love.”

your eyebrows raise slightly but you stay silent, letting her continue. “i want to be able to love you behind the cameras and public. and a part of me thinks you want that too.” she finishes.

with a smile gracing your lips you giggle, “taylor i’ve been in love with you since we started this stupid PR relationship.”

taylor lets out a breath of relief and sets the guitar aside. “well, that’s great news. if you rejected me i probably would’ve shit my pants.”

you bark out a laugh and lean forward, your face just inches away from hers. you glance from her pale blue eyes to her soft plump lips that you’ve only had the pleasure of kissing twice in front of paparazzi. “well, are you gonna kiss me for real or should i call some paparazzi to come get content?” you joke.

taylor rolls her eyes, “shut up you dork.”

and with that she kisses you softly but passionately. you hum and you lean in further, resting your hands on her thighs. she grabs onto the back of your head to get better control.

before you can protest she lifts you to straddle her as she lays back against the soft rug. she pulls away from the kiss and looks up at you with complete and utter love in her eyes.

you bite your lip to contain obnoxious giggles and glance over at the curled up cats. you glance back to taylor who looks over feature on your face. “let’s get to bed, tay.”

she nods and lets you drag her to bed where you fall asleep in each others arms for the first time in your 1 year relationship.