#sorry this took a second and thanks for indulging me with these again<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[bromcommie]

For the ask game ;)

🏜️,❄️,🥐,🌻 aaand 🥤

Hope you are having a good day!

Hiya, thanks for the retaliatory hit! (affectionate) hope you're having a lovely day too :) 🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? Ooh, can I just say any? Kidding, albeit I am very grateful for everyone who takes the time out to comment, even if it's just a string of emojis or something! But I am eternally grateful for long, detailed comments and especially love when people point the things that they related to in my work or things that clicked for them (particularly the ones I thought might be overlooked or alternatively, too heavy-handed to land) or even line up certain things or parallels that didn't fully register to me while I was writing except as a vague ~vibe~. I just appreciate it a whole lot, and it makes the whole exchange feel like a conversation. ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

Hm, I don't know - I don't think I have one specific dream theme/plot. That said I have been thinking a lot about Red Room/Department X plotlines recently. I really love the throughline of the struggle for identity + shifting ideologies/definitions of what it means to be a good person + autonomy & free will vs. wanting to belong dichotomy in those stories. Especially when it's grounded in interesting dynamics that aren't very black and white (i.e. Nat and the other widows, the handlers, the WS.) That era is also just very interesting to me in terms of real world circumstances and events, and the scifi potential to explore trauma and psychological fuckery in general is endless. So I guess I'd really love something that deals with Natasha's memories as a child + teen in the war and how that shaped her both before the Red Room even got their hands on her, as well as during and after; how she became this kind of mercurial person who is still (maybe surprisingly so) solid at her core. Something a la Name of the Rose, if you've read that run.

As for who I'd like to write it, I am in fact attempting to write something to that effect into my current post-CATWS wip, so I guess me? Not to say I wouldn't love to read something similar by someone else - there have been several fics out there that dealt with Natasha in a way that had me staring into empty space for an hour (in a good way) - just that I enjoy the process of developing ideas like that in my head differently than I do reading about them from another angle, if that makes sense!

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

that vine with the two guys with heavy NY/NJ area accents screaming at a duck. wait no - any patrick william charlton vine where he suddenly acquires a german accent. wait no - the can I PLEASE get a waffle one.

oh man. any one vine really. I'm very nostalgic about vine. 🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

I feel like if I started doing that I'd end up spamming way too many people haha. I do wanna say I very much appreciate everyone I've gotten to interact with and follow during this CATWS10 event and over the past two months I’ve been on here more!

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love Oh, god. GOD. This is so tough, I'm really blanking right now. I've been around for a loong while lol and there are so, so many insane, brilliant ones. It doesn't help that I really haven't read that many in the last few years as much as I've been writing them.

Off the top of my head though, I recently went back to Speranza's All the Angels and the Saints. One of the all-time old school Cap greats. All of their stuff is just wonderful, foundational Steve, Bucky & SteveAndBucky content. Also everything by magdaliny. I don't even know what to say there, except maybe goddamn.

I’ve also been reading a couple Red Room fics that I can’t find right now but that were great, so I’ll have to dig through my old laptop bookmarks and get back to you with a personalized list, hehe 🫡

[cher-rei]

Hey babe

Your such a good writer please more lamine yamal fics im acc begging there literally none🙏🙏🙏🙏😪

the sitter— lamine yamal [ l.y ]

met you at the right time. this is what it feels like– feels like [gracie abrams]

pairing: lamine yamal x fem!reader

summary: a rushed call from lamine's mother to babysit kenye turns into more than just a regular afternoon

genre(s): toothrotting fluff (have your dentist on standby)

[w.c: 2.8k] masterlist

notes: I wrote this instead of watching the real sociedad match to cope with the fact that we're losing. I got a bit carried away with this one but I hope you like it <33

as you stepped into the familiar house, not even having to ring the doorbell you were greeted with the smell of fresh baked cookies and comfort. you shut the door behind you and easily walked through the familiar hallway.

when she saw you, lamine's mother's shoulders relaxed a heavy amount along with the breath of relief she let out. “my saviour,” she said with a smile and pulled you into a tight hug, her gratitude evident. “I'm so sorry for calling on short notice but I have an emergency— ow!”

she bit her tongue in frustration and looked down to see the toy car that she stepped on, her head spinning at her son's carelessness. “never have kids, you’ll regret it eventually,” she said half-joking and hurriedly led you to the living room where kenye was sitting on the floor, a toy car in his hand while he watched tv.

she didn't even have to call out to him, the second he saw you he was up and in your arms with a toothy grin. “hey, buddy. didn't expect to see me today did you?”

the older woman watched with a smile as you interacted with her son, the moment being cut off by her ringtone. she didn't even bother to look at it and instead grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the front door, yelling out instructions and goodbye's as if you hadn't been doing this for a year already.

“and thank you, sweetheart! I owe you! kenye, behave!”

the door slammed shut, leaving you to the 5 year old's energetic grasp. you quickly settled into your usual routine, skipping the snack part because he had his breakfast already since it was only after 10 am.

you took your usual seat on the carpet with him because he was usually full of energy this early and jittery. so to get it out of his system, you played games with him— built some lego, played with his toys and so on.

an hour had passed and you found yourself trying to make his yogurt seem edible. it was never an issue to get him to eat, all it took was one “hereeee comes the airplane” and he was more than compliant.

“there you go,” you said with a smile and lifted the final spoonful of yogurt to his lips, the boy clapping alone happily when it was finished. “you took that like a champ.”

that didn't last long however and he was starting to grow antsy again, his suffocated whines piercing your ears. it was obvious that he was sick of the house and needed to get out, so without another thought you cleaned him up and took him out to the backyard.

it was any kid's dream back there. a playhouse, jungle gym with a slide, a ball pit and his personal favourite— the mini football net that was more of a self indulgent addition from his older brother.

you'd known lamine for over 3 years now seeing that you attend the same high school but it was a cute coincidence that his mother picked you for the babysitting job. the job wasn't even needed, you were just bored and needed something to do on weekends, there wasn't even a proper answer for how she found you.

as you and kenye played in the sun-drenched backyard, laughter and joy radiated from your every move. the mini football net, a testament to lamine’s passion for the sport, stood like a sentinel awaiting kenye's energetic kicks. your eyes sparkled with delight as you cheered him on.

the air vibrated with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, infusing your playtime with an idyllic charm. kenye's giggles echoed throughout the yard, mingling with the chirping of the birds.

meanwhile inside the house, lamine stirred from his sleep, rubbing the remnants of sleep as he descended the stairs to look for his mother. he called for her a good few times but she didn't reply, so naturally he searched the kitchen and her bedroom only to realise that the house was awfully quiet.

she would of said something if she had something planned today, and the tv was still on so someone was definitely home. then he entered the living room, his feet padding on the tiled floor as his eyes adjusted to the light from outside.

with a yawn, he neared the sliding door to check the backyard, but just as he was about to open it his hand froze on the handle. his mind blanked, his immediate reaction to seeing you play with kenye being to hide behind the curtain.

his thoughts were reeling, not expecting you to come over today. in panic, he took one last peep outside which only made his pounding heart thump even louder at the sight of you passing the ball to his brother so effortlessly.

run. that's what he did when he got the clearance, not wasting a second to rush back upstairs and grab his phone and hit the facetime button in the group chat. after 3 rings, hector and pau were on the line with him— their confused faces synced as they watched the boy lock himself in his bathroom and start pacing.

“what happened to ‘hello'?” hector said, judgement evident in his tone but lamine didn't have time to fight his snarky comments.

he propped his phone up against the mirror and rushed to get his toothbrush, his palms sweating against the toothpaste tube.

“bro, are you going to tell us what's going on or is this some type of ‘get ready with me’ gimmick?” pau spoke up finally and put another spoonful of cereal his mouth, quickly getting distracted by the cover on the box and commenting on it.

“she's here. she's not supposed to be here today so I don't know why!” lamine muffled out through his mouth full of toothpaste but his friends got the gist of it. perks of knowing each other for nearly their entire lives.

hector couldn't suppress his laughter, his smile on the screen teasing lamine. “this is even funnier because it's actually never that deep.”

pau joined in on the laughter. “imagine asking why your brother's babysitter is over to babysit,” he snorted. “it's been a year, you're insane.”

lamine finished rinsing his mouth, double checking to see if there was anything in his teeth before splashing cold water on his face. “does it look like i just woke up?” he asked and touched up his hair. “is it giving ‘I just woke up and look this good’ or ‘I freaked out and had a panic attack in my bathroom’?”

his friends went silent, their jaws on the floor at the amount of overthinking that he was doing. he's liked you since he could remember. at first it was simple attraction, and then came the longing to know you more personally, and when he did that's when everything went to shit.

you were beautiful, that's for sure but you had this natural charm that he couldn't get enough of. you made an effort to talk to him, to help him with anything that he needed and your selflessness was barely the tip of the iceberg. family was the most important thing to him, and the fact that his family loved you and treated you as their own had him on his knees.

“it's giving, ‘I can't talk to girls I'm actually interested in'” hector deadpanned and pau was quick to follow.

“I got a better one,” he said in between his laughter. “It's giving, ‘professional winger by night, but professional wreck by day.”

the bathroom echoed with pau and hector’s non-stop laughter, both boys having rolled onto their sides by now while lamine stood with his head in his hands to try and calm himself down.

worst wingmen of the year, he liked to call them. the only advice he got was to breathe and not trip over his own feet. it was pathetic of him to let his attraction towards a girl make him this… messed up? but what was a teenage boy to do?

he put on his game face and made his way downstairs again, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw that you were watching kenye as he played in the ballpit.

when you turned around you saw him there, your heart skipping a beat as he opened the door with a warming smile. it was your turn to take a deep breath. “hey, I didn't know that you were home today,” you greeted cheerfully, you confidence oozing.

“yeah, we got the day off so I took the liberty to sleep in,” he answered a took a seat beside you on the grass to greet his brother who immediately threw one of the plastic balls at him.

laughter tickled at your throat as you watched lamine playfully throw them back at him but kenye took it personally and began hurling them at him. “we're going to have to put a warning sign on him or something,” you joked in between laughter and lamine scoffed.

“the real threat is his ability to kick a ball,” the footballer said with this lips pursed.

you playfully rolled your eyes at his comment. “oh, please, you're just mad because he already has better dribbling skills than you.”

lamine's face was contorted with mock offence, and he leant back on his hands to look at you. “are you talking about the same guy who won the kopa trophy less than 2 weeks ago.”

you couldn't shake off how laid back he looked in that moment. the way he was looking at you with such ease and playfulness made your head spin. “yes, yes I am.” you answered confidently to which he put a hand over his heart.

“you wound me,” he joked. “I'm going to start making you nurse me back to health.”

funny. he was joking. right?

kenye, thrilled by the attention hurled another ball at lamine to which his older brother caught and tossed it back at him with a gloat. “nice try, but we already have the backyard champion sitting next to me right now.”

you smile faltered for a moment. “that's only because you let me win.”

lameye's eyes twinkled as he took notice of your slightly flushed cheeks and he thought that maybe he was doing something right. “you literally crushed me.”

you shook your head at his retort, ready to counter his argument as you put your hands in the air, and swiftly as if it were second nature lamine gently took them into his own to stop you from talking further. “consider my ego bruised, you're just too good,” he joked with a shrug, his hands still holding yours.

it was for a moment that you stopped breathing, unable to function properly until you realised that kenye fell asleep in the ball pit. his light snores took the attention off from your banter and onto his peaceful figure that lamine effortlessly picked up and carried to his room.

when he came downstairs again, the house had gone quiet while you cleaned up kenye’s mess that he eventually helped with. “oh wow, okay mr house husband,” you teased and tossed one of the toys at him, his smile not wavering as he continued to help you in comfortable silence.

after lunch the two of you found yourselves in the backyard again, chatting as per normal while lamine kicked the ball at his feet. he ended up stopping mid sentence to propose an idea that you weren't too eager about. a rematch at what cost? your embarrassment?

unfortunately for you, he was persuasive as hell.

“what do I get if I win?” he shrugged at your question with a knowing smile.

“anything you want, amor.”

you nearly choked on air at the term of endearment that came from literally nowhere. he didn't seem fazed by saying it though so you were almost certain that you heard him wrong and pushed it to the back of your mind and focused on the little tournament in front of you.

the sun was high, the barcelona heat was warm on your skin as you watched lamine ready the ball. the game wasn't supposed to carry on for as long as it did, but both yours and his passionate calls for cheating and distractions played a huge role in the 40 minute rematch.

“okay, this is the last round I swear,” you said with a tired huff which he was more than happy with. the ball was at your feet for a split second before you felt lamine's hands on your waist, holding you close to his chest as he sneakily took the ball and shot it into the back of the net with ease.

you jaw dropped at the utter foulness of the round. “you cheater!” you said in shock and turned to look at him, but he was too busy relishing in his glory to care. he let go of you with a proud laugh and picked the ball up again, giving it one last kick.

“I didn't cheat,” he said through a cheeky smile and took a few steps towards you. “it's a contact sport, so it's fair.”

you rolled your eyes jokingly at his counter, still in disbelief that he'd go that far. but you weren't a spoilt sport so you congratulated him on his win, fair or not and he humbly thanked you.

you turned back with a smile and began heading inside but his hands were on your waist again, the familiar tingle setting your body on fire as he turned you to look at him, the smile on his face making your heart race.

“I'll be taking my prize, thank you,” he said with a boyish grin and let his lips gently brush your cheek, a gentle, fleeting kiss that had your knees weak for a split second.

he craned his neck to look down at you, a blushing mess and he couldn't help but coo even thought he was internally jumping off buildings. “aw, don't get shy on me now.”

you quirked your brow at what you took as a challenge, mild irritation clear in your eyes that were fluttered shut seconds later when your lips met his for what was supposed to be a quick peck.

keywords: supposed to be.

the feeling of your lips on his sent a surge of electricity through his body, and he couldn't waste the opportunity. he dropped the football that was underneath his arm and pulled you in, one hand resting on your cheek and the other on your waist as he relished the taste.

the long-awaited kiss finally came and it was everything that he hoped for and more. the way you melted into him, sent a warmth through his chest that had his head spinning and hoping that you'd never let go.

when you eventually pulled away to catch your breath, your lips tugged up into an amused smile at his lovestruck look and flushed cheeks. “isn't that a better prize?” you joked, your hands still loosely wrapped around his neck.

“I want a rematch, now,” he said immediately after, and pulled you back into the yard, his eagerness getting the best of him because he was not going down like this— “if I win then you have to marry me.”

“what?!”

[usoppsstar]

HI!!! I hope your healthy and happy :) your fics make me happy and I check to see if you've updated all the time 💗 but I got this stupid idea for a fluff drabble were a fem reader x Sanji is just the biggest hugger ever. Literally anything =hug Hes made a really hard dish? Hug. something made him really sad? Comforting Hug. Something really cool happened? Jump up and down hug. She just LOVES hugs but if he catches on and gives her one back? She will literally die and melt into the floorboards. Nah, she'll probably just turn into a blushing mess lmao

It makes me happy that my fics make you happy, thank you for requesting and I'm sorry this took so long!U⁠ ⁠´⁠꓃⁠ ⁠`⁠ ⁠U (⁠≧⁠(⁠ｴ⁠)⁠≦⁠ ⁠)

Sanji with an affectionate reader🌱🌱🌱

Pairing: Sanji x f!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tw: Spoilers for Skypiea arc

Notes: I've had this 90% finished in my drafts FOREVER, but couldn't think of a way to finish it until just now; This is not proofread cuz it's 3 in the morning and I wanted to post this instead of waiting any longer. Sorry this theme is so wonky🌱🌱🌱

The first time Sanji ever received a hug from you was the day Luffy brought down Arlong Park. You had been by his side during the lasts of Luffy's fight and the moment Luffy broke out of the rubble and it sunk in to everyone that he'd won, you threw your arms around his neck. You both were battered, bruised,and floating in the water, but you wrapped your arms around him and cheered loudly along with the townspeople and usopp. Sanji had been in too much of a happy(bleeding) daze back then to really compute anything else that had happened after that.

The second time you hugged Sanji was only a few days later and caught him completely off guard. He pretty much thought that the first time was a fluke, that you hugged him in the heat of the moment, so he wasn't expecting you to embrace him again. He was just setting down everyone's plates for breakfast while the crew was shuffling into the kitchen,when you walked in.

“Good Morning Sanji.” You greet him softly, in the middle of stifling a yawn, and surprise him by holding your arms open. Sanji just pauses and for a moment he wonders if you're even talking to him, even though you said his name, until you walk over and wrap your arms around his lean torso. It's like the entire kitchen stops and stares, Nami, Zoro, and Usopp not believing what they're seeing. That someone of the female gender actually,willingly wanted to hug Sanji. Sanji himself is standing there like a statue,his principle of not wasting food being the only thing keeping him from dropping the plate he's holding. Your warm body only presses against his chest for a second before you're pulling away and happily taking a seat in front of your plate, ready to start breakfast. Again, Sanji can hardly recall the rest of that meal, not even the masterfully cooked food he personally made. From then on whenever Sanji received a hug from you, he just about melted into a pile of goop.

After that, Sanji finds out that you hug not just him but everyone rather casually. Even if they're just side hugs, you can be found wrapping your arms around anyone that you deem needs you to. He's seen you console Usopp this way, comfort Vivi, and wrap even the newest member, Chopper, into a welcoming cuddle. He guesses you're just an affectionate person and proceeds to indulge in your hugs with all the heart eyes and goofy declarations of love you can think of, skillfully ignoring any disappointment he had felt in that moment of realization. Still, despite his antics and how happy he seems, he never initiates a hug first. He never even really returns them either actually. He usually just freezes up in a lovestruck state, just happy that he's being touched by a woman at all. Too happy to notice that you hug him just a little more than everyone else.

It isn't until after the battle in Skypiea that Sanji finally notices that you've got a soft spot for him. He was unconscious for a long while after taking a direct bolt of lighting from Enryu when protecting Usopp, so he has no recollection of when you first saw him. All he knows is that you're holding his charred body tight against you when he wakes up, your gaze on the way Luffy was trying to climb the beanstalk leading to the Golden ship. It wasn't until he grunted quietly that you cut your eyes towards him. He didn't even have time to ask what was going on before you hugged him into your neck, accidentally squeezing an injured person harder than you should but Sanji didn't care. You could've been crying so hard and holding him like that because you thought of him the same way as everyone else,sure, but Sanji has a harder time convincing himself of that this time.

Sanji is a little more appreciative of your hugs now, proceeding a little calmer when your arms wrap around his torso while he's cooking, or when the crew is having a drink. It was no longer just receiving a hug from a pretty woman, but now being shown affection by someone he cared deeply about, not necessarily his friend, but someone important to him nonetheless. Maybe that's why he finally decided to reciprocate that affection.

“Ugh it's so hot! Someone please shave all my fur off!” Chopper complains as a few of you walk through a desert city in search of Sanji, Zoro, and Robin. As per usual, you'd all gotten spilt up while exploring, Luffy started a problem, and now you all had to find the rest of your crew so you could hightail it out of here. You're currently checking near the docks with Chopper. You pout sympathetically at your furry crew mate.

“Don't worry Chopper, we'll find them soon.” You attempt to console him, right at you hear a smooth voice call your name. Both you and Chopper turn your heads and find Robin jogging down the pier.

“Y/n! Chopper!” She calls out with a wave of her arm. You wave back while chopper cheers gleefully and runs over to her. You're walking over to her too when you finally notice the two men behind her. Sanji and Zoro are busy butting heads and you don't have to be a lip reader to know it's because Zoro got them lost.

“Sanji!” You call out happily, excited to see him after these long hours. Sanji stops bickering immediately at the sound of your voice before leaving Zoro to meet up with you. You jog to meet him halfway before stopping once you both get close enough.

“It's good we found you! C'mon we've gotta get out of here-!” You say with a smile before your face is suddenly cradled into the crook of a shoulder.

“God, I'm glad you're alright! I heard from a local that there was a fight near where your group had head off to.” Sanji sighs in relief with an arm wrapped around your shoulders and a hand cradling your head against him. You just squeak with round eyes, for the first time not knowing how to respond to a hug.

“I-I’m alright!” You assure him with your heart thumping so hard in your chest, there's no way Sanji doesn't feel it against his own. Sanji lets you go with a warm hand on your head.

“Good. Hey mosshead! It's time to go!” He says with a cute smile before turning to wrangle over Zoro. You just stand there wide-eyed before placing your hand over your beating heart. You're still processing what just happened when Robin clears her throat beside you. You look over and she's standing with a pleased look on her face, chopper beside her and covering his mouth with a giggle.

“W-what?” You ask, already knowing why they're smiling like that. Robin just sighs happily with a hand on her cheek.

“Although one can't see the blood that's undoubtedly rushing to your cheeks, the look on your face says it all-.” She sighs eloquently before you cut her off with a whine. Sanji had gotten you good.

A/n: Again I'm so sorry for waiting so long to finish this, I overthink my writing so much that it takes months and months and months to finish anything, even something I have lots of ideas for. Thank you for requesting, hope this was satisfactory! Thanks for reading!🌱🌱🌱

[da-rulah]

Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: At the request of Papa Emeritus III, you return to your duties around the Ministry, but when he reminds you of your absence from confessional in the past month, he asks you to return to where it all started...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12k (lol wtf sorry guys this one ran away from me...)

Warnings: Pillow Humping, cunnilingus, panty-sniffing kink (once again, the glove returns...), honestly Copia just gets more pathetic in this part, vaginal fingering, premature ejaculation, cum eating, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk (a lot of it...), lots of feelings, idiots to lovers

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Guys... thank you all SO MUCH. The love for this fic has been bigger than I ever thought, and genuinely my heart is so full whenever I get a comment, a reblog, a message about it. I hope this is worth the wait, I know it's literally double the length of the other chapters but I really wanted you to enjoy and immerse yourself - there needed to be a decent enough pay-off after all the pining and angst 😂 Special thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for the beta reading and encouragement, and to @adinferix for their help with the Italian translation!

Copia had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t think of you today. Last night had been the last time. No, really.... He swore it. The moment he decided? When he’d woken up, face down in his pillows – after a night of self-indulgence that included another long-since dirtied and discarded pillow... - and realised that there was something stuck to his face.  

Your glove.     It had taken at least 25 minutes for the red imprint of that floral pattern to fade away from the pale skin across his cheek, and he’d been mortified - especially when brushing his teeth, having to stare at himself in the mirror with that pattern taunting him. He may as well have written “PERVERT” in sharpie across his cheek instead, for all the shame it brought him. 

That pattern was the reason for the Cardinal’s tardiness to his seminar that day, the man scurrying down the halls and checking his reflection in any and every passing surface possible to be sure that there was no longer an intrusive red flower burned into his pale skin.  

When he reached his classroom, everyone had taken to their seats already, some chattering away with each other as they waited, others impatiently tapping their feet or pencils with each passing second. Copia slunk into the classroom, muttering apologies with his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the death glares of the siblings who took their studies just a touch too seriously.  

Without further ado, the Cardinal began to make some notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked against the board, some of the siblings in the room whining incredulously at the sound and the chatter ceasing as if he’d done it deliberately to shush them.  

“Okie dokie, we will look today to focus on Latin pronunciation, and-” the Cardinal froze as he turned back to the class, eyes settling on a figure in the back corner.  

He must have been dreaming...   

There you sat, in your most conservative habit possible – purposefully changing after your meeting with Terzo that morning, your guilt for derailing the Cardinal in the confessional booth forcing you out of your impressive ensemble meant to manipulate Papa. 

Coming to Copia’s seminar was not a choice; you just desperately didn’t want Papa to bring Sister Imperator into this or get yourself in any more trouble. Terzo had spared you a punishment and you weren’t to take this for granted. So, you’d made sure you arrived with a group of other siblings, pushing through into the seminar room and plonking yourself in the very back corner in the hope he wouldn’t see you. 

But of course, he saw you. As if his body was magnetically drawn towards you, you were the first he laid his eyes on.  

You avoided his gaze, scribbling something down on the paper in front of you to look busy. You hadn’t missed his cut off sentence as his eyes settled on you, nor the lingering silence as you scribbled.  

‘Say something, Cardinal... Please say something. I can’t bear this...’ you thought, the seconds ticking by.  

“Mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I lost my train of thought for a moment. Pronunciation, sì, that’s where we were. Okay...” he shook his head, returning his attention to the class. He couldn’t focus on you now, couldn’t jeopardise himself that way. One wrong move, and you may disappear for another four weeks, or worse, and Satanas, he’d never forgive himself. That was not the kind of hell he wished to endure.  

Throughout the seminar, he would steal quick glances in your direction, as if making sure you were indeed still there, that you were real. Trying to find you before now had been like trying to catch smoke... downright impossible. His guilt gnawed at him like an insect burrowing into his skin, shame creeping over him each time he saw you staring down at your page.  

You didn’t want to be here, that much was clear to him. He’d made you uncomfortable, avoiding him... It stung him more than it should. 

“I... I think we’re done for today, classe (class) . Good job, molto bene (very good),” he fussed over the book on his desk as the class rose from their seats, gathering their things and heading for the door. In a moment of what he would describe as idiocy, he called out, “Uh, Sorella ______? Could I just...”  

But you were gone.   

Copia felt like a moron, embarrassed and pining over you as he watched you leave so quickly, quite obviously running from him. All he wanted to do was to apologise, to make you feel like you didn’t have to hide from him anymore. But you were that repulsed by him that you fled at the first chance you could.  

He huffed, dropping into his chair at his desk as the room emptied. He thought it over for a moment – you didn’t want to be in his class, and yet you came anyway. Why?  

Terzo... He had noticed your absence, questioned the Cardinal over it... Perhaps he’d told you to return to your duties, punished you...   

And that was all his fault. He’d upset you so much you’d avoided your duties, hidden yourself away. You were so repulsed by him that you couldn’t even look at him anymore. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…  

The Sorella who used to smile at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.   

The Sorella who never missed a seminar he was hosting.   

The Sorella who only ever confessed on a Thursday, during his duty.   

The Sorella who kept stealing glances at him as his brothers performed Black Mass.  

Not anymore.  

How silly of him to think there was ever any chance you might not hate him. How silly of him to think you might actually be attracted to him, that you could be at all interested in the blithering idiot Cardinale who still reads Beano comics and relaxes with a Juicebox and video games at the end of the working week.  

Copia was always brushed to the side, never good enough for a woman as wonderful as you, as beautiful as you.  

How daft he felt, and how sick he felt knowing how he had defiled your trust – and continued to do so every. fucking. night. Behind your back, in the shame of his private quarters. 

Perverted old Cardinale Copia...  

Those moans, oh how he could write a symphony with those moans. They sounded so visceral and somehow so melodic rolling from your tongue as his rolled against your heat. And Sathanas, the taste... he devoured that sweetness like it was his last meal on Death Row. Your hands clutching his hair scraped their nails against his scalp and he growled into your mound with a deep vibration that drew more sweet, sweet moans from your lips.   

With two gloved fingers, he breached your walls and with expert precision, he found the spot only you had found yourself – no previous lovers ever able to satiate you like he could. You were his.   

His his his.  

Even through the leather, he could feel your warmth on his fingers, hear the hungry slurps of your pussy drawing him back in over and over with every pump of his fingers inside you.   

“Cardinal... Cardinal....” you chanted like a mantra, eyes screwed shut and breath laboured as he drew you closer and closer to an end, more of your juices seeping out and dripping onto his eagerly lapping tongue, until...  

Until...  

Sweat beaded on Copia’s forehead as his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he lay in bed, his skin hot to the touch in the dark around him. His head snapped to the side, seeing the glowing red of his digital alarm clock reading 3:09am.  

He rubbed at his paintless eyes, groaning into the dark at the sticky feeling all over his body, the sweat now cooling in the night air and chilling him.  

Just a fucking dream.   

He could still taste you, still feel you, still hear you... How could he stop this? How would he ever be able to move on from this fucking chokehold you had on him? Does time heal all wounds?     Copia sure hoped so.  

In the dark, he felt the familiar need in his groin – a stiffness he wouldn’t be able to shake so easily. He didn’t want to, not again. Already he felt like a total degenerate, jacking off to the smell of your used glove a nightly occurrence. But now he was dreaming of you?  

With reluctance, he shifted the sheets and let his naked form hit the cold air around him, thick cock standing to attention. He threw an arm over his eyes, his other reaching down until he could lazily stroke the shaft of his shame a few times.  

Here we go again, he thought to himself in disgust.  

But disgust wasn’t enough to quell the rising lust he felt, and his hand began to pump his length with vigour as he recounted the details of the dream that woke him.  

He whimpered into the night, the heavy arm across his eyes shielding himself from his own depravity only getting heavier. His hips started to roll against the mattress, meeting his fist over and over. He couldn’t take this, he wanted so badly to bury himself, to grind down, to feel pressure...   

He sat upright, reaching behind him for one of the silk pillows he lay on before. He got up onto his knees, folding the pillow in two to create a crease and pushed it into his mattress, lining his hips up with it.   

And like the dirty old cardinal he was, he pushed his cock into the crease, groaning into a tight fist as he did.  

He leaned his weight over onto the hand pinning the pillow down and began to roll his hips into the softness, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as images of you flashed in his mind. That dream, it had felt so... so real? As if he could taste you still, smell you still... 

And he could, of course, once his hand had snaked under the remaining pillows to retrieve that damned glove he was far too lazy to hide properly these days. He humped the pillow he buried his cock into like a horny teenager, holding that glove against his nose and mouth as he got faster and faster, inhaling.  

“Ohhh, cazzo... (fuck),” he groaned, picturing you beneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of you. How good you’d feel beneath him, how slick, and wet, and warm you’d be for him. The noises from the confessional booth still haunted him, ricocheting off the inside of his skull as he buried himself over and over.   

“Sorella... Hmmm,” he hummed, “______, merda (shit).” His hips stuttered, the silk dampened with precum giving just enough friction... He wished it was you so badly, your pussy enveloping him. He craved it, like he couldn’t bear to go on without having you, even if it were just once.  

He bit his lip as he growled, hunching over the pillow like an animal and spilling his cum into the crease. His hips slowed, lazily rocking back and forth as he milked the rest of his spend until he could take it not more, letting go of the silk and falling face first into the rest of his bedding, uncaring of the mess beneath him. 

Integrating yourself back into the Ministry life hadn’t been nearly as hard as you had thought, managing to avoid the Cardinal everywhere other than that damn seminar. You’d heard him call out to you as you were leaving, but it only made your feet carry you faster past your Siblings and out into the hall to escape. You knew it was cowardly, but you weren’t ready to have to explain yourself to him, to see the disappointment in his face or to chastise you for what you’d coerced him into doing.  

You knew today you could evade him, his schedule keeping him busy all day and out of your current hiding place; the library.  

You adored this library... The corridors were like a maze, easy enough to get lost in your pursuit of knowledge. In dark nooks, high back leather chairs to read in sat in dim lamplight. Artistic renditions of Satanic teachings littered the ceilings as they might in a Catholic church – except, it was Lucifer who danced through each scene instead of Jesus. Dark wooded desks for studying or translating lined up in the middle of the lobby, two grand staircases winding up the walls opposite each other to the second floor. In between the staircases, was the most beautiful part of all... 

On the floor sat a reversed Pentagram, carved into stone with pictures of Lucifer and his most feared animals painted into the ramp where the staircases met – goats, cats, owls, bats... the misunderstood creatures tied to him. Carved into the outer edge of the pentagram sat purple stained Atropa belladonna flowers and vines, and atop the raised pentagram sat a marble statue of a white snake winding around a black pedestal. In the mouth of the snake, stuck between the fangs, was the ripest red apple – a symbol of Lucifer’s temptation, his greatest triumph in the Garden of Eden.  

That statue always seemed to steal your breath away, as it did anyone who gazed upon it. The care and attention to detail, the way it always shined in the faux candlelight – real was too dangerous around the ancient texts and antique furniture throughout the library – it was just so spectacular.  

It was a beautiful place to spend your day, but it served a purpose today. You chose one of the leather high back chairs just off from the lobby to relax and catch up on some reading you’d neglected in your time spent hiding.   

As you neared the end of the book you were studying – an old Catholic tome you struggled to translate from the dusty pages – you decided to find the book that you knew countered the Catholic teachings, so you could cross reference and perhaps understand the old book better.  

You stood, taking the Catholic tome with you into the rows of tall bookshelves in search of the Satanic counterpart. It had to be up on the fourth shelf, just out of reach. Sighing dramatically in your own laziness, you reached for the running ladder at the end of the shelves, dragging it along its tracks to the spot you had been standing. You rested the book in your arms on a lower shelf, and starting to climb the rungs of the ladder.  

In your haste, the long skirt of your chosen conservative habit – the ones you had taken to wearing every day now that you were to be out and about around the Cardinal again – became trapped under your foot and naturally, you slipped from a few feet off the ground, losing your grip and balance.  

Two unassumingly strong arms stopped you before you could hit the marble flooring, wrapping around your waist and tugging you to a body behind you to stop you meeting a rather bruising conclusion.     “Careful, Sorella...” the chest you were pressed against vibrated with a deep chuckle. “Pretty girls should not be covered in accidental bruises, eh?”  

You stumbled to your feet, straightening out your habit and turning to see Terzo smirking at you, his ghostly eye somehow even more bewitching in the dim lamplight.     “Grazie (thank you), Papa... I slipped on...” 

“Sì, your habit,” his eyes raked over your form, confusion furrowing on his brow as he remembered the other morning in his office – you'd been wearing something much more to his liking. “I must say, I preferred the shorter one, mia cara . With the red stitching...” he winked.  

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you averted your eyes from his.  

“Did you only wear that for me, tesoro? ” he winked, taking a step towards you, “Thought it would get you out of trouble, eh?” His teasing flustered you, and you couldn’t string a full sentence together as your heart pounded in your ears, breathing irregular to compensate for the rush of oxygen to your brain. He laughed as you stuttered a denial. 

“Speaking of trouble, have you been attending your duties, sorella? Did you go to Copia’s seminar?” he stepped back again out of your personal space, allowing you to breathe normally once again. 

“Sì, Papa.” 

“And was he... happy to see you?” he asked, arching a brow. His tone confused you, like he expected a specific reaction. But Terzo was fishing... he suspected the Cardinal had a crush and was doing anything he could to put you in Copia’s way. He was making you dance around him, like the carrot on a string to tempt the donkey.... 

“Uh... I don’t know,” you thought back to the way his face fell when his eyes caught yours, the way his breath caught in his throat and the look of fear as his skin had paled to a grey colour. “Perhaps he was surprised.” 

Terzo’s face screwed up in confused annoyance. He’d expected better from the Cardinal, for him to be more welcoming when he so clearly had missed you around the Ministry. He’d asked Terzo to keep an eye out for you, to tell him immediately if he saw you, after all.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re back to your schedule, mia cara. But you know,” Terzo had a plan... He enjoyed meddling in the Cardinal’s affairs, and well, anyone’s ... “I must insist you attend confessional before today is out.” 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You fought to keep your face neutral, quelling every natural urge to look absolutely petrified of the thought. Because of course he would want you to attend confessional today.  

On a fucking Thursday.  

“It’s been a while, no? If you were gone for four weeks, you must be overdue?” he quizzed.  

“W-well, yes...”   

“We can’t have you falling behind, mia cara. I’m sure you have something to confess to the Dark Lord,” he turned on his expensive Cuban heels, “I must go, I have some uh... business to attend concerning a rather beautiful Librarian,” he began sauntering off into the bookshelves, “By tonight, per favore, sorella !” he called out behind him. 

Just as before, your shoes echoed on the Ministry floors as you walked to the Chapel. Except tonight, they felt louder and louder, ringing in your ears with each step. Your legs carried you on autopilot, unable to disobey a Papa’s direct instruction.  

Why did he choose tonight of all nights? It felt like returning to the scene of a crime... You didn’t know what you were going to say, what you could possibly confess to the Cardinal this evening that you’d done in the last few weeks when quite obviously you hadn’t done anything at all... 

The Chapel was steeped in dim candlelight, completely void of any signs of life. You stood in the doorway for a moment, staring like a deer caught in headlights at the booth at the other end of the room. A shiver ran over your spine, a nasty reminder that you were supposed to move, to go and sit in that infernal wooden box next to the source of your embarrassment, your fear... your lust.  

Because of course, despite your efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, your brain liked to remind you at night that he most certainly did. Except now, the grunts and groans of his pleasure were accurate, burned into your memory and used against you as a weapon as you slept.  

With a push, you entered the Chapel, somehow speed-walking to sit inside the booth beside the Cardinal who jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut a little too hard. You wasted no time.  

“Bless me, Cardinal, I have sinned,” you deadpanned.  

Beside you, the Cardinal sat bolt upright, eyes staring into his peripheral vision, afraid to make a move and look directly at the shadow beside him. If he made any sudden movements, perhaps you’d disappear in a puff of smoke... 

He cleared his throat quietly.     “Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?” He stuck to his duty, as you stuck to yours. He wasn’t about to risk trying to have any other kind of conversation with you right now. Perhaps he could try after...  

But what the fuck would he even say to you? He wanted so desperately to apologise, but he couldn’t completely clear his conscience without admitting to everything that’s happened since the last time you sat beside each other in this damned booth. And there was no way he could do that, not without the promise that the ground would open up beneath his feet and plunge him into the deepest pit of hell the second he finished confessing. 

Beside him, you waited a moment, trying to think of something to confess to, but your mind was screaming the same thing at you.     Lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. LUST.  

“Sloth, Cardinal,” you huffed, “I’ve neglected my duties.” Coward, you scolded yourself. Not that it was a lie, of course. But... you couldn’t just own up to the worst of your sins. 

Copia’s shoulders relaxed next to him, a sigh leaving his lips. Part of him was terrified you might say lust again – he wasn’t sure he could take that torture. 

“Do you wish to elaborate, sorella? Is there a reason for your sloth?” he asked, as if he was trying to hurt himself further. He knew it was him – he was the reason. You were avoiding him, disgusted by him.  

“I did something terrible, and... I’ve been hiding,” you admitted. The cardinal was confused... What could you, his sweet sorella, have possibly done that was so terrible? Lucifer, you didn’t mean him? Were you that horrified by him?   

“Sorella, there’s no need to hide, you... uh...” he couldn’t think straight, his heartbeat rising in his chest as he panicked. He didn’t know what to say... Almost as if he were to absolve you of your sins but that wasn’t what confessional was for? But he wanted so badly to comfort you, to tell you it was okay, that he was so sorry... So very sorry for putting you in that position all those weeks ago.  

And on the other side of the lattice, there you sat, feeling sorry for ever entering the booth that night, for pushing him into such a situation with a member of his congregation, for defiling his position as Cardinal.  

Both two different sides of exactly the same coin. 

“I... I can’t do this, Cardinal. I’m sorry...” you rushed, pushing your way out of the booth and running through the Chapel. Copia sat for a moment, frozen in shock and disappointment when his body reacted before his mind could.   

He got up, and chased you. Out through the Chapel, down the hall where the clacking of your shoes was still echoing off the marble. But he kept running, desperately trying to find you without tripping on his cassock. He had to find you. He couldn’t let you stay like this, so angry and disgusted at him. He needed to apologise, even if that meant admitting to all the rest...    

“Sorella, wait!” he called, the halls empty for the time of evening it was. He was grateful, chasing a mere shadow through the halls like a predator on the hunt for his prey. Except that’s the last thing he wanted you to feel; hunted.  

You found it too difficult to run in your habit, far too long for you. You cursed as you stumbled, somehow managing to stay on your feet in the pursuit of your dorm but the Cardinal was faster than he looked, and before you knew what had happened you felt a grip on your arm dragging you into a nearby door, letting go as soon as you’d been almost flung into the room.   

The door slammed, and the Cardinal stood against it, breathless and looking distraught.  

“Cardinal, don’t make me s-” you wanted to apologise, to beg to spare you the shame of saying aloud what you’d been thinking since that first confessional... but he interrupted you.   “Sorella, mi dispiace if I frightened you, but I owe you an ap-” 

“Cardinal please, I can’t-”    “Mia cara, just listen...” he begged, but neither of you could get a word in edgeways.  

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you yelled your sorrows at him.     “What? What are you-” his confusion painted his features, hardened lines forming in his face.  

“Y-you’ve always been so good to me, and I don’t want to make you feel awkward or put you through that ever again. I should never have made you do that, I’m so ashamed of myself,” you rabbited on, wailing at him with four weeks of pent-up embarrassment spewing out your mouth. But the Cardinal stared at you as the cogs in his brain turned, realising what you were actually apologising for.  

“Are you sorry for your dream, mia cara?” he asked you softly, taking a step to stand of his own accord instead of leaning his back against the closed door.  

“Yes!” you yelled, “That and... well... what happened. It was too far, I put you in such an uncomfortable position and that’s not fair of me at all. Cardinal please forgive me, I’m trying not to have these thoughts-”     “You’re still having them?” his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting as he processed your rantings. 

“Well, um... I... yes, but I’m working on it, I’m trying to busy myself with other things and I thought that maybe if I hid for a while that I could stop it, not that I could look you in the eyes again anyway after what I did, and...” 

Copia had heard enough. He strode towards you through the rows of desks and chairs surrounding him, pressing the palm of his glove to your mouth to quiet you and in turn, pushing you to lean back against the solid oak desk behind you.     “Sorella, please...” 

That moment, singularly, was the beginning of your downfall. When you felt the leather of his glove press against your lips, his body pressing against yours as you stumbled back, and you whined against his hand...  

Copia’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that at all. His movements were not meant to be at all provocative in nature; he had simply panicked, needing you to hush so he could speak, to apologise and not knowing how else to do so. But now... Well, he could see the crimson colour of your cheeks under his glove, matched with the look of shock on your own face. That noise; it was completely involuntary. But it came from a place of lust...    Of submission. 

A beat of silence passed between you, the air appearing to be sucked out of the room completely, suffocating you both where you stood. Your screamed at yourself inside your head, cursing how pathetically easily you had succumbed to the slightest touch and showed your hand before any kind of game had truly even begun.  

“You must learn when to quiet this pretty mouth of yours and listen...” The cardinal tested his limits, watching your response. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell deeply and slowly beneath him, and how your eyes softened a little as they scanned his face and found no real anger there, only the hint of a smirk. “Now, give me a nod or a shake of your head, eh? I want to ask you a few things. Nod if you understand.”  

You nodded, his hand still pressed firmly to your mouth.  

“Are you still having these dreams, Sorella?” You shut your eyes now, embarrassed, and slowly nodded your head.     “And are you still... enjoying these dreams?” he spoke slowly, deliberately. You nodded again, hesitant. 

“And have you acted on these dreams since, tesoro?” You took a few deep breaths before answering again; a slow, ashamed, but deliberate nod.  

Copia sucked a lungful of oxygen in through his teeth, watching your eyes on him as he did. His head swam in a dizzying array of images; thoughts of the dream you had told him about in such detail, thoughts of you alone at night thinking of him, touching yourself for him. As he exhaled, he looked away from you, breaking the eye contact you held in fear and finally looking around the room.  

The seminar room...  

… from your dream.  

A wicked smirk spread across the Cardinal’s face, and as you followed his gaze around the room, you realised why. You dare not move, holding your breath as he turned back to you, his beautifully monochrome eyes hooded and boring down into yours. 

“It’s here, no?” he asked. You didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. “This is where your fantasia (fantasy) takes place, eh? Answer me, tesoro. ..”  

You nodded against his hand again, shame flooding your cheeks with warmth. The stirring in your abdomen was growing the longer he stood pressing you into the desk behind you. It was maddening.  

“I press you against this desk in that dream, hm?” he knocked on the wood you leaned on with his free hand, in turn pressing just a little tighter against you. You could feel his body heat through his cassock, and it served to focus your own heat between your legs... “Will you remind me, mia cara , what exactly did I do here?” 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth to let you answer him with words – except, you could find none. You stuttered and fumbled as you stared into his eyes, his face so close to yours you could smell his cologne stronger than you ever had. It was utterly intoxicating, a sweet yet smoky aroma. 

“Come, now, dolcezza ... Don’t hold out on me now, hm?” The back of his fingers met your cheek, lightly grazing the blush soothingly. “What. Did. I. do?”  

There was no escaping this, not that you wanted to. You were so close, your dream practically coming true before you. You may not be able to forgive yourself for pushing your Cardinal over the lines of professionalism all those weeks ago, but here he was, quite obviously flirting with you, enticing you.  

Tempting you.  

And you would never forgive yourself for fumbling this, for running and hiding once again. And that guilt would be worse, embedded with more shame and embarrassment than ever before. 

“You... were kissing me...” you whispered. The Cardinal smiled – not the dirty little smirk from before, more of a satisfactory smile, sweeter.  

“Tesoro, I’ll only ask you once – and whatever the answer, I will respect it,” he began, some nerves starting to bubble up in his chest. He feared rejection more than anything, having been rejected his entire life. Could he take it if you rejected him too? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try...  “Would you like me to kiss you?” 

Your chest bloomed with warmth, eyes flickering down to his half-painted lips and back to his eyes, somehow looking more puppy-dog like as the seconds ticked by. You realised then, he was scared of you saying no. Scared...   

But you could never deny your Cardinal.  

Words had failed you, that much was clear. And so, you opted for almost involuntary action, slowly leaning forwards against him until your lips barely grazed his. Copia could have sworn he felt his lips tingle where they’d brushed with yours; such a fleeting touch, unsure of yourself but it was all the answer he needed.  

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that took your breath away... His lips melded into yours with such a longing, both of you easily losing yourself in the moment. Just as in your dream, you sank into him, your hands gripping onto his cassock as he deepened the kiss. His arms had snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush against him as he hummed into your mouth. 

Just as you imagined every night, one of his hands came to remove your veil, letting your hair fall freely while he worked his way past your lips with his tongue, gently mixing with your own as you fell further into him. You whined at the sensation, feeling his hands regroup and tighten on your waist as you did.  

He pulled away from you breathless, the black paint of his top lip smudged slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for any sign you wanted to back out, but finding nothing.  

“You look so beautiful without your veil, dolcezza...” he whispered before he could stop himself. Mentally, he scolded himself for being such a lovesick idiota, but the way you looked into his eyes and smiled was everything he had hoped for. He twirled a strand of your hair in his fingers, watching it as he curled it around the leather. “I had no idea you had all this under there, eh?” he chuckled, “ bellissima (beautiful).”  

He dropped the strand and instead came to hold your chin between this thumb and finger.  

“Now tell me, what happens next in that dream of yours again?” Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to punch straight through your ribs to get to him. This was happening. This wasn’t you pushing him into anything, you weren’t undermining his authority. He wanted this. He wanted you.   

“Your hands... they slide up my habit...” you muttered, shy.  

“Like this?” he narrated, crouching momentarily to hook his hand under your habit, trailing slowly up your leg until the skirt hung lopsided around your upper thigh. You nodded at him, watching as his eyes never left yours. “And do I touch you here, mia cara? ” His palm cupped your mound over your panties, and he could feel the searing heat emanating from your core through the leather of his glove.  

The noise you made was involuntary – a soft gasp that made his already half-hard length twitch with interest beneath the heavy wool of his clothes. He didn’t wait for you to answer him, his question more of a rhetorical tease. Instead, he slid his hand against you, pressing against your entrance while his palm sat heavy against your clitoris.  

“Cardinal...” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to a perfectly round ‘O’.  

He continued to tease for a moment, enjoying the soft mewls and sharp breaths you took each time he would alternate the pressure between his palm and his fingers. But he only had so much control, after weeks of pining, of dreaming of you, fucking his damn pillows to the memory and the scent of you. 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them hit the floor around your feet. Without wasting a second or daring to look away from the blissful expression on your face, he dipped his fingers between your folds, dragging them painfully slowly through the mess you had made for him. The choked moan you let out at the sensation of that damned glove sliding through rang out against the stone walls of the seminar room.  

Copia collected some of your mess on his glove, lifting his hand into the dim candlelight of the room to see the way it shined. It reminded him of the moment he’d found your sodden glove in the booth, how it left the darker wet marks where he’d held it. Except this time, he was blessed enough to have it right from the source.  

“ Splendido... (splendid)” he mumbled, before you opened your eyes to watch him bring his shimmering glove to his lips, tasting what he’d taken. The way he groaned at the sweetness had you clenching around nothing, fisting the cassock you still had such a tight grip on. “I can’t deny myself, dolcezza ... Not anymore.” 

Before you had time to linger on his words – not anymore... - he dropped to his knees in front of you, as if ready to worship. He adjusted the skirt of your habit for you to hold around your hips, still covering your modesty for now. Both his hands slid up your thighs, parting them as he slotted in-between, finally coming to uncover you for him. 

The way you glistened for him made his concealed erection throb, and as much as he wanted to dive in and devour you whole, he didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long to be sloppy here. Instead, he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, enjoying the way they trembled in anticipation. Slowly, he made his way up, his breath tickling and warming the trail of wet he’d left with his tongue.  

Finally, his lips pressed against your mound. As painful as it was to have him tease, to gently kiss you where you so desperately needed more, you were grateful for any contact at all after the weeks of anguish believing he held no feelings other than disappointment and disgust for you.  

When the Cardinal at your feet finally allowed his tongue to slip between your folds, you couldn’t help the hand that flew to knock his biretta off his head, grasping at the peppered grey hair that grew beneath it. He groaned against you; at your taste, at your heat, at your grip. It was all so wonderfully intoxicating.  

As he let himself bury his tongue in you, he lifted one of your thighs over his shoulder for better access for him, and stability for you. He wrapped his arm around that thigh, gripping on for dear life as if you’d disappear on him again. But you were going nowhere anytime soon... 

As he mouthed at your clit, he couldn’t help the grunts and groans that rumbled like thunder against you, vibrating through you. You threw your head back in pleasure, uncaring of how loud your moans and whimpers were.  

When Copia started to slide his middle finger through your folds below his tongue, you almost collapsed back onto the desk. He pressed against your entrance, slowly allowing his leather-clad finger to slide inside you. He never stopped his tongue, never came up for breath.  

When he had his ring finger join the other, you began to see stars. He filled you so well, scissoring inside you and curling up towards that glorious spot inside you that no other had ever found.  

“C-Cardinal... ahh,” you whimpered. It fuelled him further, hearing his title fall from your lips above him. It was all too much for him; your taste, your grip. And now that? Oh, how sinful it sounded, how beautiful, like the prettiest songbird singing its morning melody.  

He was ashamed to admit that what you were doing to him had such a tight grasp on his sanity, he was losing himself in his mind and his body was following suit. While he had no friction, no pressure, nothing to help the painful need in his crotch, he was so close...  

In his reverie, he lifted your other thigh over his shoulder, burying his face further into you as he continued using his fingers to bring you closer and closer to the edge. You had to grip the desk under you to steady yourself, allowing his animalistic urges to take total control of your body. This was nothing like your dream.  

This was so much better.  

His tongue lavished against your clit unforgivingly, lips circling and suckling from time to time as he drank you in.  

“F-fuck, Cardinal... I can’t,” you begged for nothing above him, so close to the edge, dangling by a splintering branch over a deep canyon that was ready to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help the way you bucked your hips anymore, or the way you ground your pussy down into his face, his nose becoming a tool for pleasure as much as his tongue, lips and chin.  

That splintering branch snapped clean off when he growled into you, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, back slamming down into the hard wood of the desk behind you. If you felt any pain at all, it didn’t show – you were too busy writhing and squeezing your thighs around poor Copia’s head.  

What you didn’t know, was that the growl that had pushed you into your earth-shattering orgasm had been a growl not only of lust, but of anger. At himself.  

Beneath you, Copia was squeezing your thigh with the hand that wasn’t buried inside you, desperately trying to stop himself... But his poor, untouched cock had violently flinched beneath his cassock before spilling a hot load of his seed. Copia had cum just from eating you out.  

If he didn’t feel like a pathetic pervert before tonight, he certainly did now. Who cums from just going down on a woman?  

Oh, but you were not just any woman, were you? Not to him. You were the woman he pined over, stressed over, cried over, came over every fucking night for four wretched weeks. What it was about you, he wasn’t sure, but the Cardinal had never been so besotted with a woman in his life. Dare he say it, it had started long before that night in the confessional booth... He had been drawn to you since the day you took your vows.  

And no, he just couldn’t help himself.  

You lay on the desk, catching your breath and waiting for your head to stop spinning as your limbs went lifeless around him, one slipping from his shoulder. He detached himself from your core and stood up, readjusting himself in his pants for a more comfortable position now that the wet patch in his underwear was beginning to seep through to bloom into a deep red stain on his cassock. But there was no getting comfortable with his softening cock confined and covered in his own spend.  

He stepped towards you, between your legs and reached for your hand with the glove that wasn’t still glistening with your arousal. He lifted it to his completely smudged lips, peppering the back of it with chaste kisses as you came to.  

“Mia cara... are you... okay?” he mumbled between kisses. You hummed an affirmative response back, your mind still foggy in post-orgasm haze.  

Copia continued peppering kisses to the back of your hand, to each fingertip, your wrist, a little way up your arm and back down as he waited patiently for you to come back around to him. Eventually, you sat up, pushing your habit down to cover your modesty once again. He held your hand in his, gazing up into your eyes with a soft expression you couldn’t quite read. 

When you really looked at him, you couldn’t help but giggle. His paint was smudged around his mouth, a grey hue painting him from his nose to his chin, and his hair was so dishevelled he looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge.  

“What’s so funny, cara ?” he smiled with you, the kind of smile you can’t keep off your face when someone you adore is laughing near you.  

“You look a mess,” you laughed, smoothing out the parts of his hair that were sticking up.  

“Ah, sì, you have quite a grip,” he chuckled, looking away for a moment, suddenly bashful. “I trust that was not so bad, eh?” he bit his lip as he waited for your response, a little smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Better than my dream, Cardinal,” you shyly admitted. “But um... my dream doesn’t end there...” 

Copia’s smile dropped, realising what you were hinting at. You weren’t done yet... You wanted more from him. But in order to perform, he would have to reveal what you so far had missed.  

Before he could protest, your hand was cupping his bulge under his cassock, but as you pressed your palm there, your eyes grew wide, and your gaze dropped to look at what you’d felt.  

Wet.   

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...”  

Someone had stoked the dissipating fire inside you once again, and a flame began to burn. You weren’t sure if it was knowing that Copia had cum in his pants at the taste of you, or if it was his dumbstruck look as he tried to rectify the situation with words but knowing he had been so enamoured with you that he’d reached his end even whilst neglected... that was hotter than you could have ever imagined.  

“What was it, Cardinal?” you interrupted him. He silenced quickly, cocking his head in confusion. “Was it how I sounded?” You pressed your palm to the soft bulge beneath you, not at all bothered by the wet fabric. 

“Was it how I tasted?” you asked, your confidence growing as his eyes widened in shock.  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” The heel of your palm dug into him, rotating in a small circle over his cock.  

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” You heard him moan softly as you stared into his eyes. His cock was beginning to twitch in interest again.  

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”   

That did it. Without a word, the man before you wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you to him to crash your lips together. You’d awoken something inside him, a beast that he’d been keeping tame until now. Between desperate clashes of lips and tongues, Copia began to tease you back. 

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?” he panted against your lips like a dog in heat, “it was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you,” he paused for another heated kiss, “ finally tasting what I’ve been desiring for so long,” and another, “but that I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”   

You whimpered at his words, knowing every single one was no lie. But hearing Copia call you his had you arching your back to press against him, your hips desperately seeking him out and your lips messily found his again.  

 Terzo yawned as he walked down the halls of the ministry, the days of solid paperwork and papal duties - not the mention his library rendezvous earlier that day... - catching up to him as he slogged back to his quarters. The halls were dark, silent. He didn’t rush – he didn’t have the energy to. His mind wandered as he dawdled, taking in the stained glass around him with every step he took.   

He rounded a corner, and thought he could hear shuffling coming from inside one of the seminar rooms. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the thought of having to put on his big scary Papa voice and tell whoever was out of bounds this late to go back to their dorms. Why did they make him work so hard, eh?   

As he drew closer to the door of a room he presumed was the one inhabited, he heard voices. He reached for the doorknob, until the voices registered, and he realised... These were voices he recognised...  

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...” Was that Cardinal Copia he heard stammering away in there like a moron? Well, as a higher up member of the clergy, he was okay to be out of bounds at this hour. Terzo shrugged to himself and started to turn away from the door – whatever the Cardinal was up to in there was his business. And frankly, Terzo was too tired to even realise he had been speaking to someone...    

“What was it, Cardinal?” Terzo stopped, his brows pulling together in thought. That had sounded like you, Sister _____?  What would she be doing alone with the Cardinal at this hour?   

Terzo was now intrigued, and hung around for a moment. 

“Was it how I sounded?” What on earth was she talking about?   

“Was it how I tasted?” Terzo’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. Had he heard that right?  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” This was not the same Sorella _____ he knew, surely not? Such filth spilling from her mouth... He almost felt a swell of pride in his chest. 

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” Terzo all but jumped with giddiness at the door, keeping himself as quiet as possible to not alert those inside. He heard the Cardinal moan the most pathetic little sound, and slapped his gloved hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Oh, fratellino, you are down BAD...    

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”  

Terzo’s hand dropped when his jaw hit the floor, completely taken aback by your brazen use of such a sinful phrase. He’d clearly stumbled upon something already in motion... Suddenly, he heard a quick shuffle, followed by a suppressed moan from you and a hungry growl from the Cardinal. Terzo jumped away from the door as if it had burst into flames.  

Now, Terzo was certainly a pervert. But he was not about to eavesdrop on his brother fraternising with a sister of sin. He recoiled at the thought, shivering as he backed away to the far wall of the opposite corridor. He stood frozen for a moment, his body not reacting anywhere near fast enough.   

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?.... It was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you... but I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”  

That did it. Terzo turned and bolted down the corridor to get away from the lip-smacking sounds and the whines you let slip.  

As he rounded the corner and managed to get away from the noises that frankly would now haunt him in his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel a little... proud.    

That had been his doing. He’d pushed them together, forced them into each other’s presence knowing how absolutely pitiful and sciocco (foolish) the pair of you were being. Terzo certainly wasn’t blind – he'd seen the Cardinal’s affections, saw how your absence had affected him so. Now he was beginning to think your disappearance may even have had to do with him, in some way. Avoiding him, perhaps?  

Not that it mattered. For now, he was proud that his fratellino was making a move – however mentally scarring that move had been to overhear. 

And he told you that you were his, too. The meaning of that may have been lost in the moment, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Terzo. Copia meant that with every fibre of his being.  

He smiled to himself as he continued to walk to his chambers. For all the teasing and all the jokes Terzo made at Copia’s expense as they were growing up, he had to admit, he turned out alright in the end. His goofy little half-brother who kept his secret Beanos and drank his little juice boxes. He chuckled to himself – he certainly was proud of him. And finally, someone else saw him for more than a bumbling idiot. Someone finally didn’t underestimate him the way the rest of the ministry did.  

“Ben fatto (good job) , Terzo,” he smirked to himself. His little plan had worked; albeit, far sooner than expected, and just a little too well. 

He would be working hard this evening to forget what he’d just overheard...

Copia’s grip on your thighs around his hips tightened as he deepened your kiss, the leather of his gloves tightening and squeaking over his taught hands. You were sure he would leave bruises with how hard he held you, pulling you flush against him until your core pressed against his hardening length. You didn’t care though; any mark he left on you was like a badge of honour.  

“Dolcezza, what do you want from me, eh?” he pleaded, breathless as he trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and to your neck, never once disconnecting his lips along the way.   

“All of you, Cardinal...” you practically sang, “ please...”   

He hummed against your neck, lost entirely to his visceral need to devour you whole. You threaded your hands in his hair again, holding him tight to you as you let your head fall back, enjoying the kisses, the nips and bites, the suckling against your skin that bloomed in beautiful red and purple patches. 

Copia stood upright for a moment, biting at the leather on his right hand to free himself of his glove and spitting it to one side before he lay his palm on your cheek. He drank you in with his eyes, hooded and blown out with lust. You nuzzled into him instinctively searching out his touch, your lips finding his thumb to pepper kisses to the tip. It felt oddly intimate, more so than having his face buried between your thighs.  

No one ever saw the Cardinal – or any clergy member, for that matter – without their gloves. Their bare touch was saved for those they devoted it to, and here he was, baring himself to you . 

You pressed a final kiss to his thumb, before allowing your tongue to lave over the pad of it, your lips following to engulf his thumb in the warmth of your mouth. Copia hummed in front of you, his other hand squeezing your thigh tightly as he watched. 

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti, tesoro? (What did I do to deserve you, sweetheart?)” he groaned, pushing his thumb to smear your spit over your lips, adoring the way they glistened for him in the low light. “I want to give you all of me,” he slid his hand to your neck, a wet trail left along your skin by the saliva still on his thumb, and gripped tight enough to send a wave of excitement through you. “Every last inch...” 

You whined for him again, as your body seemed to do of its own accord, and let him capture your lips in another kiss. You could no longer stand it – you needed him, like the moon needs the sun to glow brightly in the night.   

Hastily, you reached for the buttons of his cassock, making quick work of them until he could shrug out of the heavy red wool and let it fall to the floor. He helped you then, to remove his jacket underneath while you focussed on freeing his length.  

“A little messy, mi dispiace ,” he smirked, not sorry at all for the mess he’d made when he now knew how much that had turned you on. On another occasion, you would have liked to sink to your knees, clean him up and ready him for what came next but there was no time for that. Messy or not, you simply needed him.  

You didn’t even attempt to remove his pants, instead pushing them just a little further down his hips to allow you to reach into his underwear and take him in your hand. He hissed through his teeth like you’d scalded him, but instead rocking his hips to chase your touch. He had been correct, there was certainly a mess in there – one that coated your hand as you pulled his erection free and pumped along his length once, twice...  

“ Cazzo... (Fuck...)” he groaned.  

As your hand moved, you let your eyes wonder over his body, half exposed to you now. The physique you had dreamed of wasn’t far off, except he had a little more muscle definition than your imagination had given him credit for, particularly in the two lines that framed his abdomen, leading down to where your hand worked him over. But what caught your eye most of all, was the strange tattoo that sat over his heart, hidden by a thin layer of grey-speckled chest hair.  

Three 6’s, in a spiral, marked into his chest for eternity. Your free hand traced the black lines, fingertips grazing over it making him shiver at your touch. You didn’t ask about it, there was no need. He had kept it covered, hidden from knowledge of anyone else until right now – you were the only person he ever wanted to be this vulnerable to. Someday though, you might ask him about that...  

Copia moved to remove his other glove, letting it drop to the floor beside him with the rest of his garments. His red pants still clung to his thighs, and he struggled to draw his eyes away from where your hand stroked his cum-covered cock lazily.  

With one long, drawn out stroke back up his length, you lifted your hand – smeared in his mess – and pressed two of your fingers to your tongue, sucking the mess from them as you held his eye contact. His expression darkened, baring his teeth to you like an animal as he smirked, watching you lick and suck every last bit of his essence from your hand. A fire raged within you, like lava spewing through your veins at the quiet yet guttural groan he unleashed. 

In a flash, he was dragging you to the edge of the desk where you sat, both hands burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. His hips slowly rocked against you, cock dragging through the plentiful juices you’d left for him. You hummed at the feeling of some contact, particularly the feeling of the veins and ridges of his hardness. You needed him inside you, filling you. You couldn’t drag this out anymore; it was like torture. Worse than torture.  

“Please, Cardinal...” you begged. And how could he deny you when you’d asked so nicely?  

“Kiss me, bella,” he huffed, his focus snatched away by the hypnotising sight of his cock sliding through your folds as he teased. It was as if he could only be diverted by your lips, that he couldn’t drag his attention away voluntarily.  

You grabbed him by the jaw with one hand, crushing your lips to his desperately. He growled again, the weeping head of his cock catching on your entrance and slowly, finally, he began to push inside...  

Your jaw went slack, kiss long forgotten as your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a staggered moan into his mouth.  

“ Sono qui, tesoro... (I’m here, sweetheart...)” he assured, holding your hips flush to him with a hand on the small of your back. He struggled to keep himself still, buried to the hilt and desperate to move, but you needed a moment. The feeling was overwhelming, stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, dangling dangerously there as you got used to him.  

It was a true testament to his self-control and his character that he waited for you – as soon as his length had been buried in your tight, wet warmth he thought he was a goner. He figured that this was it – this was the glorious afterlife he’d been promised, that he prayed to Lucifer for day in, day out. 

Having you pressed against him grounded him as much as he needed. He watched the expression on your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort, of regret. He found none, because there was none to give. His lips hovered above yours, enjoying the warmth of your breath as you moaned for him.  

You were wearing too many clothes still for his liking; he wanted to be unbearably close to you, to feel the warmth of your skin on his, see you in all your glory. Still buried deep inside you, he used one of his hands to unbutton your habit, slowly revealing more flesh to him, kissing down your exposed chest until he could reach no further down.  

He was so gentle with you, so patient. He fought the urges to thrust into you, to take what he so desperately wanted from you. He simply wanted this to be perfect, and the thought had your eyes glazing with an adoration that went beyond a silly little wet dream. 

As your own way of signalling you were okay, you wanted more, you shimmied out of your now open habit, letting it pool around you where you sat, and pulled the straps of your bra down, unclipping it at the back.  

He watched your slow movements, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingertips. “ Più bella di quanto avrei mai potuto immaginare (more beautiful than I ever could have imagined),” he whispered, pressing his lips to your sternum, feeling your heart beating against him. If only he had known he felt this way, that it was more than just lust – if he had admitted that to himself... 

“ Copia ...” you whined, the first time you’d called him by his name all evening... His heart swelled, smiling against the swell of your breast between kisses. “ Per favore, h-ho bisogno d-di te... (Please, I need you...)” you stuttered in broken Italian, piecing together bits you had picked up in your time in the Ministry, but he knew – oh , he knew what you were saying.  

“ Qualsiasi cosa per te, amore mio (anything for you, my love),” he replied, sweetly pressing his lips to yours as he cradled your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk into him, only for him to begin moving his hips, slowly pulling back from where he had been buried deep within your warmth for a few minutes now at least... 

You mewled into his kiss, letting your tongues dance together so beautifully. It wasn’t until he had slid almost completely away from you that he pushed his way back in, gliding almost effortlessly in the slick you’d created for him. He built his movements over a few slow thrusts, gradually setting a pace that would never bring you to any kind of climax, but enough that the two of you were swirling in pleasure, able to enjoy your first moments anchored together.   

Copia’s lips never left yours, not to allow moans the freedom to escape or to allow his lungs the freedom to breathe. You were totally, utterly enamoured with each other.  

With every roll of his hips, you edged closer and closer to a point of begging for more, begging for a means to an end. He was struggling to keep himself composed, too scared to frighten you off if he unleashed what had built inside him for the last four weeks.  

“Copia, m-more... please...” you begged, finally separating the two of you to hazily look in his beautifully distinct eyes, show him the desperation in your own.  

“Amore, if I let go, I’m not sure I can control myself...” he warned, still forcing himself to stay at the pace he’d set.  

“Then lose yourself, Cardinal... Take me,” you offered yourself to him, trusting completely that he would never do anything you didn’t desperately want yourself.  

With no further encouragement needed, and a whisper of “ Cazzo, Sathanas perdonami ... (fuck, Sathanas forgive me...) ” he picked up his pace, effortlessly sliding into you over and over until the tops of his thighs were smacking into the underside of yours. The sounds ricocheted off the stone walls around you, a sinful mix of whines, pants, grunts and skin slapping on skin swirling in the air around you.  

The hands laying loose around his shoulders slid into his hair, pulling tight to press his forehead to yours. The desk beneath you groaned and creaked under the force, scraping along the floors with each hit. Your Cardinal’s cock filled you so deliciously, his hips angled to hit the back of your cervix and the top of your pussy where that tantalising sweet spot lay.  

“I wanted you for so long, amore mio...” he confessed, “so completely, like un patetico bastardo (a pathetic bastard).” He grit his teeth together, grunting like an animal as he fucked into you. He fought the urge to push you back down against the desk and lift your thighs up, spreading you open as much as possible for him, wanting to savour the closeness, the way he could feel your breath beading in condensation on his neck.  

“S-six months...” It was your turn to confess. “I’d b-been dreaming of... you... for six months...” you cried out as he slammed into you harder, fuelled by your admission.  

“ Bella , you’ll be the end of me, eh?” he chuckled between pants of breathlessness. “ Adesso sono tutto tuo (now I’m all yours...)”   

The coil in your abdomen wound impossibly tighter, threatening to fracture at any moment with the way he rolled his hips up into you, filling you deliciously with each pistoning motion. You felt the ripples from each violent thrust over and over against your clit where his body met yours, and the way his nails dug into your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises with deep crescent shapes imprinted in your skin.  

“C-can’t... hold...” you could barely string a sentence together in your current state, “ fuck...”   

“Cum for me, amore. Cum for your Cardinal, eh?” he roared. And well, you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to.  

Fire spread from your core through every nerve ending, spanning your entire body and you squealed and writhed against him. He never faltered, not missing a single beat as you shook and spilled around his cock. The way your walls fluttered around him, squeezed him impossibly tighter made every thrust a struggle, but he fought it – he couldn’t let you down now.  

He tensed his body, staving off another orgasm as long as he possibly could. He wanted you to revel in yours, wanted to watch you come undone on his cock like he’d dreamed of so many times. A litany of profanities and mumblings of his name spilled in incoherent babble as your limbs turned to jelly, barely clinging onto him to stay upright. If you were to fall back or forward, you were to choose forward, slumping against his sweaty chest, your head sitting where his neck met his shoulder.  

In your tired and overstimulated state, all you could do for him was mouth at the skin there, leaving sloppy kisses while your pussy continued to pulse around him until eventually, he gripped your chin tightly to lift your head and crash his lips to yours. He growled into your mouth, hips stuttering and slowing – he had cum inside you, needing to taste you again as he did so.  

With his final few thrusts, his spend leaked from around his cock, mixing with your own climax. He punctuated each thrust with a hum of satisfaction, until he couldn’t take the movement anymore, his cock too sensitive to continue. Still, he didn’t remove himself. Not yet...  

Somehow you both slumped together, keeping each other upright with your body weight alone. Your chests rose and fell together, trying to regulate your breathing to have an opportunity to speak at all. But honestly? The pair of you were happy in your blissful silence together for a moment. 

After a few minutes, it was you who spoke first. 

“I thought you would hate me...” you sighed against his shoulder. Copia’s brows furrowed together, and he stood himself up removing his softening length from you, holding you by your shoulders to get a good look at you.  

“Why would you ever think that, amore mio?” he asked, genuinely confused.  

“I thought I had overstepped, that night in the confessional. I thought you were ashamed, disgusted...” you drooped your head in sadness at the memory of him excusing you so abruptly that evening.  

“No... not with you, never you , tesoro,” he assured. “At myself, sì? I assumed you would despise how I took advant-” 

“Cardinal no, you didn’t... Sathanas, we’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” you chuckled, shaking your head at your antics.    “Idioti innamorati (idiots in love),” he laughed, until he realised what he’d actually just said – and then the colour drained from his face, his eyes blowing out wide in horror.  

You smiled softly, taking his hands from your shoulders and pulling him to take a step closer to you.     “Idioti innamorati,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose, still greyed from the smudging of his paints. Copia smiled sheepishly, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this before, much less ever had someone reciprocate his feelings. He felt strangely at peace, more so than he ever had.  

“Tesoro, promise me something, eh?” he asked. You nodded, willing him to continue. “Never hide from me again, okay? I damn near lost my mind.”  

You laughed at your idiocy. “I promise, Cardinal.” You leaned forward to press your lips against his, sweetly capturing the moment in a blissful kiss.  

When you pulled apart, he wordlessly helped to gather the garments that had been carelessly removed and dressed you again. You exchanged jokes about the messes you both were, how vile it felt to put your clothes back on with the feeling of your spend seeping from you and his still damp in his underwear... How truly ridiculous you both were.  

“Come, bella. I have a rather large shower cubicle I think we can both put to good use,” he flirted, pulling you to him by your waist now you were both fully dressed. You agreed, taking him by the hand and wondering through the corridors together back to the clergy suites.  

“Besides, I have something of yours I feel I must give back...” Copia laughed at himself, somehow no longer afraid to admit what he had been up to in your absence when he knew now just how depraved your own mind could be.  

Your mind ticked over at what on earth he could possibly mean, until it dawned on you... You had lost your fucking glove.  

“ You pervert!” you accused, smacking his chest playfully as you walked. “Maybe I don’t want it back, Lucifer knows what you’ve done with that thing...” The two of you giggled and flirted your way back, uncaring and unaware of any prying ears that may hear voices late into the night.  

And there were indeed prying ears, albeit accidentally, that perked up at the sound of voices outside his chambers... 

Terzo sat on his couch with a glass of vintage red in his hand, attempting to read a book to take his mind off the sinful noises he’d heard from his fratello earlier that evening. When he recognised the noises, he groaned to himself.  

‘Must they parade around to remind me of that?’ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes and standing to look through the peephole of his door. He saw the two of you waltzing through the dimly lit corridor, hand in hand like teenagers. The dopey look on his brother’s face was, to him, a wonderful sight; so hopelessly enamoured with you as you giggled and laughed together into the night.   

He had always hoped Copia would find someone like you – perhaps that’s why you were the one sister he never tried to bed, the one he felt was off limits to him. Maybe he had always known... but he was glad to see his fratellino acting like himself in your presence. Goofy, dopey Copia. Perhaps now, he could stop looking for approval from those he looked up to and looked down on him, and focus his efforts on simply being himself. After all, he had now found someone who liked him for who he was, not who he hoped to be .  

“Idioti innamorati,” he muttered to himself, chuckling at his win.  

Sì, his fratellino could be himself now – however pathetic he may be...   FIN

A/N: I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing this. This may be my first Ghost fic, but it will NOT be my last - so if you'd like to stick around for more, I'd be incredibly grateful. Send me some head canon requests or some drabble prompts - I'm MORE THAN HAPPY to do those for you. Endless love, Bee 🖤 TAG LIST: @melvilless @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @edensbuttercups @daughter0fcain @xnothingpersonalx @assassinprocrastinator @funfetti-furby @kadedoesthings @sunbleached-ghoul @gravehags @gbatesx @solluna00 @mae-mei-m @bolliancat @ghulehsin @socksandcr0cs @girlwithissuesworld @fallen-angelito @maccery @wjyndigo @thew0man @a-fools-circus @luxavier @saintedcooper @whatawonderfulexistence--blog @calamity-queen @eternaltiare @moongoore @wagooo @dolceterzo @emeritusing @letstalkstories @sacred-coffin @rainstorms-library @ryos-cruddy-side-blog @fruitmanstyles @relentlessmoon @cardinal-copingmechanism @werich @strawberriiblossoms @evepeve @portaltothevoid @casualghostfan @copias-juicebox @sl1psth3magg0t @enchantedbunny @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

[galedekarios]

#this took so much work#but i really wanted to make this#sorry it got so long

Personally I thank you for your hard work and that gif set is just as long as it needs to be. I for one can't recall hearing the dialogue in the second gif before so I'm glad to see it now.

thank you so much, i really do appreciate the support and kind words a lot! 🖤

the line is from early access! i touched on it in this post.

if you want to see and listen to it, tim's performance of it, i included a short clip from early access:

the quote itself is from gale's early access romance scene in act i after the tiefling party. that scene was cut and most of it is completely gone. some lines were re-used in the full release version of the game: in act 1, for the reveal scene where gale lets the protag into his mind, and others for the beginning of the act 2 romance scene/last night alive scene.

the conversation started like this:

Gale: I know we have to get moving again soon, but before we part, I’d like to tell you something. I’d like to tell you a story. It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess. Player - Option 2: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know. Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

if you then chose to indulge gale, letting him tell the story with "a bit of narrative distance" to make it "easier in the telling" for him, this was the story he would tell the player in early access:

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

from there, the conversation branched again:

Player - Option 1: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Player - Option 2: He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. Player - Option 3: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him.

leading to the quote that i used for my gifset, highlighting gale's lines about the life of a chosen:

Gale: Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

i'm thinking about dedicating a full post to the original ea romance scene in act 1 when i find the time to do so because it's an interesting scene.

anyhow, i hope that was helpful! 🖤

[boywithpinkcarnation]

tbh kinda wanting some jealous!jb like if someone is filtering w her gf OR ESPECIALLY IF IT WAS A ANOTHER GIRL AHH THE DRAMA 🕳️🕳️

alrighty... i am in no way a writer, so this is. going to be bullet point, blurb, word vomit, unedited chaos. additionally, this is gonna be so incredibly self indulgent and catered to me so i hope it suffices for u bug 💝

frankly posting this is very scary for a little tumblr baby like myself, but i feel a need to serve my community 🫡

they style of writing and tbh most headcannons/lore is coming straight from @gingerjolover their blog is lowkey bible and they are the sweetest pookie pie ever. luv u g fr <3 like seriously i recommend you go just read through their masterlist bc this will not compare (not trying to fish here, just being very real as someone who is a like fein for fics as a source of comfort, i fear this will not fully suffice)

rpf content under the cut (no hate if that's not ur jam, just ignore me!), minors dni!!!

refering to jb's parter in this as "gf" and sense i am a selfish selfish girl in this scenerio she is roughly jb's height/a little shorter bc i am and theres no shorter than julien rep ANYWHERE

personally, i see julien as lowkey so possessive in a cutie non toxic way... and sometimes that manifests in some cutie jeleousy that gf can not get enough of. i think it obviously would come out in like flirty enviornments like bars and parties where people are loosey goosey... but sometimes it's just like and about on a normal date. here's a little thought i cooked up for like a more domestic environment jealousy:

aquairum date

the date starts out very normal, classic boyfriend!julien activities are happening

she's making sure y'all are touching at all times. like she'll die if you guys are not physically connected

i'm talking arm around your shoulder, iron grip within intertwined hands, hand in ur jean pocket 16 candles style, hand on the small of your back,,,, but i think eventually (and her favorite, albeit a little awkward) she's hugging you from behind as you walk, almost hanging on you, head perfectly slotted on your shoulder kissing your head and neck at every stop to look at the pretty fish

"jay! look at this one" "real pretty princess" *kisses your head* (its over i can'tttt)

then maybe she leaves you to go get you like a bottle of water or a jacket from the car (idk something to make you more comfortable, very "can't have my baby thirsty/cold" vibes)

then of course, you are looking so cute and so gay, a girl approaches you

you are very focused on the fish bc they are truly just so pretty (can you tell i love fish?) and only look up when mystery girl nudges you

"omg i'm so sorry" "oh uh, you're good" "sorry, i have a bit of a habit for running into pretty girls"

and your're kinda caught off guard bc like... this is an aquarium??

"haha um thank you" "so what are you doing here all alone"

mystery girl is sooo fuck boy coded just go with it

"well um my girlfr-"

julien is back behind you, re koala latching twisting open the water bottle for you and handing it to you, GLARING at this girl

"sorry it took me a second princess, who's this?"

then her grip tightens pulling you even closer to her chest

mystery girl, bless her heart, replies "we just bumped into each other. i was just letting her know how beautiful she was"

oh jb did not like that

she reaches over grabs your jaw tilting your head to the side and back to look at her

"she is beautiful. my sweet girl" and kisses you DEEPLY

and ur blushing because you know jealous/protective/possesive!julien is in the room with us now and kind of giggle out of the kiss

"well then... i should be going, sorry again for running into you"

instead of letting you respond or responding herself jb keeps your face turned and starts kissing all over ur face as you giggle letting mystery girl to just shuffle away.

for the rest of the date she is SO overly affectionate

squeezing ur hips

keeping you so close

kissing your cheek and neck as you tell her about all the fish and animals

"really baby? that's so cool" "my little biologist" "ooo princess what about these?"

it's times like these julien wishes she wore lipstick to leave a mark on your face so everyone knows

she's probably taking you to the gift shop and buying you some random thing for fun because when she's jealous she doesn't take it out on you, she's secure with you and knows you aren't doing anything but being your pretty self

in fact it just makes her softer and more affectionate

when you finally let her drag you out she had you against the car kissing you lovingly and deeply and sets her forehead against yours

"i just love you so much. my sweet girl. my priincess"

"all yours j."

note from c: i hope this is at least semi ok? literally no editing or even proof reading, just love sick delusion.

[braisedhoney]

[PART ONE] - PART TWO (you are here!)

“Sorry,” Skulker bites out as soon as Plasmius loosens his grip. “I only meant, once I find it, it’s going to take a while before he’s back to normal.” - (Our Pupils Grope for the Shape of What We Know, CH 3.)

second part of the comic, original fic by @ectopal here on tumblr and ao3!

OKAY SO LET’S CHAT!! welcome to cap’n ney’s art context corner!

the layout for each page was something that really gave me a headache, and tbh i would probably have no idea how to assess if they make any sense. but my favorite page, by FAR, is in part one where vlad is yelling at skulker (“i gave you a job…”) etc. the idea was depending on how angry someone was, they’d break through the panelling more and more.

this. took. forever.

well not forever, only like. four days. but that’s because this had such a fucking grip on my brain that i genuinely dedicated almost all my spare time to it. i did a couple other doodles (that you probably saw yesterday) but man. i haven’t drawn this much in one sitting in a while.

this whole thing gave me so much more respect for the new graphic novel that’s coming out btw, because holy shit this was draining. i can’t imagine doing literally almost 200 pages.

thank you so much again to ectopal for sharing your fantastic works with us. and thank you to all of you for indulging my nonsense o7

i’d say i’m sorry for the spam, but really this will probably happen again someday. can’t help it if fics blow my mind :’D

[perseephoneee]

Ice-scating with Diego Hargreeves please 🥺

ice skating (diego hargreeves x gn!reader) ficmas 2023

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 3 of ficmas!

a/n: sorry this one is so short, but i hope it still brings all the holiday fluff vibes that are necessary.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Diego glared at the ice skates in his hand, looking at the rink currently populated by families, teenagers, and even the geriatric population. He didn’t want to ice skate. He didn’t want to be here at all. Except that you wanted to ice skate because “the-world-is-ending-and-if-we’re-all-going-to- die-I’d-like-to-do-this-with-my-boyfriend-once.” He had never been that good at turning you down. He just also wasn’t that good at ice skating. You, on the other hand, were a freaking angel. Diego couldn’t peel his eyes away as he watched you glide across the ice, smiling. You even managed to turn backward and let the skates take you. He hadn’t seen you laugh in a long time. You ended up sliding right over to him, hands stopping your motion against the wall as you stared at Diego sitting on the bench. 

“Are you going to ice skate or what?” You raised a brow, looking at your boyfriend in amusement. 

“I’m working on it.”

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” you chuckle, poking him in the shoulder as he swats you away. 

“I’m not,” he snaps, letting out a huff of air. “Just…never done it before. Don’t want to embarrass myself,” Diego mumbled. You leaned over and took his hand in yours, your mitten-clad hand enveloped in his own. 

“You won’t embarrass yourself; you have me,” you smiled before gesturing back to the ice. “Plus, Klaus is embarrassing himself all on his own.”

True to your word, Klaus was prancing across the ice like no one's business. It's not that he couldn't skate (he was excellent). He was acting like he had taken shrooms before getting on the ice. Knowing Klaus, he likely had. His arms were wiggling around as he balanced on one leg and spoke out loud the whims and wiles of the ice. You were glad he was having fun, even though Diego was annoyed that Klaus had invited himself (again) to another one of your couple activities. 

“Please? We can get hot cocoa after,” You pouted, and with an eye roll, Diego finally relented. He tied on the skates and wobbled to a standing position, hobbling over to the entrance. You held out your hands, reorganizing your stance so you could support him if he started to fall. Diego slipped a little as he grabbed the wall and your hand, a panicked sound leaving him. “You gotta bend your knees, don’t freeze up.” He let out a hiss, which made you laugh, but he hesitantly moved one foot in front of the other, letting the ice carry him around the perimeter. You skated right next to him, reaching out occasionally to keep him studying. Eventually, he started to relax, and you smiled as he got the hang of it. Diego laughed excitedly as he let go of the side wall. He even whooped as he made his first lap without any help. By the second time around, you skated and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with him. 

“Thanks for indulging me,” you said, looking up at Diego. He could be a stubborn ass at the worst of times, but he always made you feel supported in ways you hadn’t experienced before in your life. Diego brought your enjoined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. 

“Ice skating is pretty cool,” Diego admitted. “Manly, since it has blades.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you chuckled, waving as Klaus circled you. To cause mass chaos, which you were starting to think was Klaus’ mission in life, he reached out for Diego’s open hand and dragged the two of you behind him. This didn’t work out with the intended effect and instead led to all of you sprawling across the ice like a hockey accident. 

“Klaus!” Diego growled, reaching to beat up his brother. Klaus rolled away, sending an apology as he skated away. Diego crawled over you like a starfish on the ice as you lay. “Are you alright?” You smirked instead of answering, grabbing the front of Diego’s jacket and kissing him. 

“I’m perfect,” you laughed. Diego kissed you again before helping you up, letting you lean against him as you shuffled over to the side of the rink. “Should we get hot cocoa now?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Diego huffed, helping you off the rink and holding your hand to the hot cocoa stand the entire time.

[billlydear]

MIDNIGHT MUNCHIES - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (18+)

word count: 1965 // masterlist | inbox (please request ! ) | WIP list

summary: you're well accustomed to billy's smoking habits and his subsequent eating habits.

Contents/Warnings: afab!reader, smut (18+), cunnilingus, almost-somnophilia (discussed beforehand and consensual; basically she's given him permission beforehand to eat her out while she sleeps she just woke up before he could), weed smoking, accidental cigarette burns, mentions of being high

A/N: do you like how I got so busy with schoolwork that i had to drop off the face of this app and then when i finally came back i chose to write freehand instead of touching the requests in my inbox... me either <3 this is the start of my summer break, though, so i hope to get out a lot of content for you guys!!

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

Billy's an experienced smoker. He's building up an impressive tolerance to the stuff, but he gets his fix, and it makes his hands a little uncoordinated as he pries at the button on your shorts.

You'd meant to change before falling asleep in his bed, but for every puff he took of his joint, your eyes drooped lower and lower, until you finally fell asleep slumped back against his pillows.

You wake to his frustrated grunt, as well as the sting of something hot at your thigh. You hiss, leg tensing as you peer through the dim room at him, "Billy? Can I help you?"

"Can't get your fucking shorts off," He grunts, and you watch as the lit end of his joint tilts to your flesh again, leaving a burning ring in its wake. The second time you jolt away from it he realizes what's going on, yanking the blunt away from your skin.

"Shit," He ducks his head down to kiss the ash-covered red mark on your thigh, "Sorry, babe."

"I was sleeping," You whine, voice still thick with the stuff, "Can't you eat a bag of chips or something?"

"No," Billy mocks your pitiful tone, burying his face into your thigh and dotting kisses to the skin there, "You taste better."

Finally his fingers manage to pry the button hole of your shorts over the metal circle, and he rips your zipper down with enthusiasm you're not sure how his weed-riddled body possesses.

"You can sleep if you want to," He offers, but with the press of his slightly stubbly cheeks against your soft, raw inner thighs, you know you won't be able to.

"Oh-" Your thighs tense as Billy's lips press in a prim kiss to your slit, "Just- just go, Billy, I- I don't wanna sleep anymore!"

"Knew it," He chuckles, eyes hazy as he parts his lips, licking a thin, wet stripe just along the slit of your cunt, "I'll make it worth your time, angel. Just relax."

You unclench your thighs, and he nestles more comfortably between them. His large hands are thrown over your hips now, splayed wide under your ass as he tucks your thighs beneath his arms, locking you in place.

He's just barely keeping his joint from igniting the blanket with the way it's tucked between his fingers, because now most of his attention is on the pliant, fleshy globes of your ass. You reach down to take it from him just in case, and he hums in approval, nestling his face into your slit so that the sound vibrates through you.

"Billy!" You gasp, hips attempting to jerk upwards even though they're stopped by his strong grip, "C'mon, please- please just do something!"

"You smell so fucking good," He groans, pointedly ignoring your pleas. He seems to be burrowing into you instead of indulging himself, and you're sure you're slick enough now to wet his nose if he keeps pressing it into your cunt.

"Billy," You pant, reaching down with the hand that isn't holding his blunt. You grab hold of his curls, tugging hard, "Do something!"

He bites you. He sinks his teeth into the oversensitive, thin skin that creases your thigh and your cunt, nipping roughly at it as a searing pain erupts from the bite. You cry out, hand falling from his hair and joint nearly slipping out of your grip.

"Ow!" You cry, but your stomach kicks back up with butterflies as he drags his tongue over the bite mark in a long, wet, thick, soothing stripe, "Ah, Billy, that- that hurt!"

"Don't order me around," He drawls, tongue back in his mouth as he presses his nose into the stinging bite mark, "I'll eat you out when I eat you out."

And, of course, eat you out he does. You should have known his dramatics were only that, the snap of his teeth were a show of authority, not of reluctance. He indulges in the wet smear of slick that's threatening to seep out from between the lips of your warm cunt, finally sticking his tongue out to slide between them in a stroke that only makes you wetter.

You're in the middle of taking a drag from his blunt when he finally makes his move, and you nearly bite the thing in half. You choke on the smoke, chest stuttering and lungs heaving to get oxygen back when it seems there's none left. Billy's hungry tonight, the more weed he smokes, the more intense his cravings are, and tonight he seems to be out of his mind.

Once he starts, he can't stop. He dives in, jaw nearly unhinged as he tries fitting it around your entire cunt. His tongue is messy and eager as it laps through your folds, licking up wetness that gushes out of you due to his ministrations. You can feel him trying to control himself, trying to drag his tongue through your cunt in methodical swirls, but eventually his rational brain loses out, and instinct takes over.

He laps at your cunt wet and messy, dragging his tongue in a slimy trail up from just above your ass to the hood of your clit. He pays special interest to the sensitive bud, lips sealing around it as he sucks and licks at you. His hands, still kneading greedily at your ass, change targets as he flicks his tongue over your clit one last time. He pries your thighs even further apart, like there's more of your cunt that you're hiding from him. He doesn't find any, of course, but he takes what he can get, groaning as he dives his tongue back into your pussy.

He's more than vocal, his hot breath coming in pants that signal he's getting out of breath. How he's managed to suffocate himself in your cunt, you have no clue, but you like how desperate it makes him.

He's making out with your pussy so well that you feel an orgasm already creeping up on you, brought on by the haziness of your former sleep and by how many grunts and groans he's pumping into you. He eats like he hasn't in years, like he doesn't get high and ravage you every night.

"Billy," You whimper, the bump of his nose against your clit ramping up the flow of pleasure below your stomach, "Billy I- I might- I think I'm gonna cum soon!"

"Do it," He pants, burrowing his face impossibly further into your cunt, practically sucking your orgasm out of you, "Go, baby, cum on my tongue. Give it to me, 'wanna- nngh," His voice tampers out into a gruff groan as your cunt begins to clench around his tongue, "Wanna taste you."

"Come on," He coaxes, purring into your cunt and egging on your impending release, "Come on, angel, lemme have it."

"I'm- I'm gonna cum!" You insist, reaching down with your free hand to lock them in his curls once more. This time, however, he doesn't reprimand you for your tugging, and you relish having something steady to hold on to as Billy licks your orgasm out of you.

The second you spasm around him, the moment your thighs start to shake and clench around Billy's head, he's letting a steady flow of moans seep into your pussy. It only makes things more intense, and as pleasure bleeds through your veins, Billy sucks it out of you.

"Fuck yeah," He groans, gruff and ragged into your cunt. He's panting, chest heaving as he devours you, "More, baby, c'mon, keep going."

His thick, rough thumb comes up to rub your clit, pressured circles around and around the bud that nearly make you black out. Billy's nothing if not an intense lover, and you think he may be trying to crawl inside of your cunt to suck you dry from the inside the way that he's mashing his face into you.

"Okay," You pant, heaving and shaky as you come down from your high. Billy's not easing up, tongue still laving through your pussy like there's more to take.

"Okay, Billy, okay!" You yelp, flinching in sensitive shock when he tries suckling desperately at your clit again. It's all too much, you're afraid you might pass out if he keeps going, not that you wouldn't have a good time.

"More," He groans, chasing you up the bed when you scramble into a sitting position and back against the headboard. He crawls onto the bed after you, already prying at your knees that you've bent together.

"Please, babe," He begs, voice thick with rasp, "Please, 'just want a little more, I- I'll go slow or something, I promise."

"I can't," You pant, gripping his cheeks and tugging him into a kiss instead. He's happy for the substitute, and you taste your own release on his tongue as he resumes licking sloppily into you.

"Here," You have to pry him away from your face, his lips chasing after yours, spit trailing down his glistening chin. You hand over his blunt, and he takes it from you eagerly to fill his lungs with smoke.

"More," He insists, keeping the joint held between his two fingers as he reaches for your face this time, leading another kiss. He steals the breath from your lungs, replacing it with thick smoke that makes your eyes water. He's too busy sucking your tongue to notice, his own trailing along its underside and sending shivers down your spine.

The squelching sound that accompanies his kiss is almost more filthy than how it had sounded when he was eating you out, and though your cunt is still on fire, you feel something building below your belly again.

He's making the same sounds into your mouth as he was into your cunt, grunting and groaning and huffing and panting as he devours you. It's only when he's nearly blue in the face does he let up, breaking away to pant open-mouthed against the corner of your lips. He knocks his forehead against your temple, lips mouthing lazily at your jaw while he catches his breath.

"Jesus, Billy." You breathe, lungs now empty of both smoke and oxygen as you heave, "You're- oh," He presses a wet kiss to your jaw, "You're really going tonight."

"I'm hungry," He drawls, voice lazy and gruff with both exhaustion and smoke, "But I'm-" He breaks off to yawn, nose scrunching, "-Tired, too."

"I can tell," You laugh weakly, no power in you to do so heartier, "Come on, baby, put out the light and let's go to sleep."

"Mhm," He groans, snuffing out his blunt and stashing it god knows where, too lazy to do anything with it, "You gotta- you gotta pee or something."

"Yeah,' I'll pee," You promise him, slightly touched that even smoked out of his mind, he's concerned for your post-orgasm hygiene. You excuse yourself while he wrestles with the blankets on the bed, and when you get back, he's snoring against his- no, your pillow.

"Billy," You scoff fondly, slipping a hand under his head to try and scoot it off of your pillow. He's limp now, and you're easily able to reroute him to his own side of the bed. When you slide in beside him the bed dips, and he rolls with the incline, body heavy with sleep as it presses against you.

"C'mere," You scoff, wiping away drool that's beading at the corner of his mouth as he snores, "Goodnight, Billy, love you."

You know he can't hear you, you know he won't say it back. But it feels wrong sleeping without saying it, so you nestle into him under the covers, and when you press a kiss to his throat, you feel his heart beat.

You know he loves you, too.

[funtimefloof]

Helping (T)eddie Bear

Eddie Munson x plussize!fem!Reader

a/n: I'm currenly on my period and I wanna pass away, the last time it was this painful was 2020 :') I felt the need to write about Eddie taking care of reader during her menstruation. I needed some Eddie comfort. (I'll apologize if he seems a little oc, I tried my best) This is kinda self indulgent, that's why plussize :P

Warnings: tiny blood stain, menstruation, period cramps of agony, lots of fluff and maybe a little cheesy......I got carried away

Wc: 1.7k

!Not proofread!

Agony is one way to describe how I felt, the other way I'd describe it would be that Michael Myers went completely havoc in my uterus.

I shot up from my pillow, my eyes ripped open, before I squeezed them close again, feeling the dreadful feeling in my lower stomach.

That could only mean one thing. As fast as I could I stood up and hurried to the bathroom and just like expected; I got my period.

As sight of frustration left my dry lips. I cleaned myself up and went back to my bedroom, hoping the mess on my bed wouldn't be too serious. Thank fuck, it only was a little stain which would wash out easily.

So I pulled off the mattress cover, went to my bathroom to wash the stain first, before I threw it into the washing machine.

The second I got to my bedroom again, a harsh pain snapped through my lower body, causing me to almost fall as my knees felt like jelly.

Regaining my strength I made my way to the kitchen and went over to the telephone on the wall, before dialing the number. I was out of painkillers, so the only thing that came to mind, was to call him.

It rang and rang, but nobody picked up. Sighting, I hung up the telephone and was already on my way back to my room, before the clear ringing tone of the telephone caugh me off guard. I shuffled over, grabed it and immediately heard the groggy, sleepy voice of the person I adore the most.

"Hey, is everything alright, my love? You're usually not awake this late at night. " He sounded tired, which made me start to feel bad. "Hi, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you...." My voice wavered a little as a small tear went down my cheek. He seemed to notice that my voice was off somehow "God, baby no, you didn't wake me, I already woke up a few minutes ago, to go take a piss."

I could hear right through his lie, but decided to not question it any further, cause I didn't want it to end up in a discussion.

He broke the silence again, noticing that I stayed quiet as he just heard almost inaudible sniffs coming from the other line "What's wrong, love? Are you alright?" the concern in his voice was evident, so I quickly replied "Can you please come over? I need you right now."

Hearing the desperation in my trembling voice, he replied without hesitation "I'll be there in 3, love." As fast as he answered, the loud beep on the other line, singalised that he hung up right after, so I did the same.

Leaning against the wall next to it, I took a sharp intake of air, before small whimpers and cries left my throat as tiny tears went past my eyes. The pain was so uncomfortable and highly unnecessary at this time of night, I thought.

Not even 3 minutes passed and a few rushed knocks were heard at the front door of my trailer. Leaving my spot on the wall, I went over and opened the door, meeting the eyes of my favourite person.

As soon as he saw my tear stained face his gaze softened a little. He stepped into the trailer, closed the door behind him and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him.

"It hurts so bad, Eds." my voice was muffled due to me being snuggled tightly in Eddie's embrace. Softly stoking my head he let out a small humm, before backing away a tiny bit and leaving a loving kiss on my forehead.

Having already figured out the cause of my pain, he let his hands start to wander and before he had to chance to try and lift me, I stopped him in his tracks "Don't."

"Why, what's the matter?" The stroking motions of his hands on my arms made me melt down into his embrace once again as the cold metal on his fingers gave me a weird but calming feeling. What did I do to deserve this man? He's always such an angel to me.

"I'm to heavy...." As soon as those words left my mouth, he cupped my cheeks with his ring adorned hands and looked deep into my glassy eyes. His expression showed confusion, but at the same time his beautiful brown button like eyes radiated warmth, comfort and reassurance.

"My love-" He took a deep breath, while caressing my face, wiping the new coming tears away "I don't want to hear you talk down on yourself, ever again." He started to leave butterfly kisses on every inch of my face "You, my love, are the most precious creature I've ever laid my eyes on. The only things supposed to leave those pretty lips of yours are, only positive things about yourself and the sounds of pleasure that I get out of you, alright?"

I suppose he tried to brighten my mood with the last statement, which he definitely succeeded with as a quiet giggle left me right after. Sneaky Fox.

Without a warning he picked me up bridal style, which caused me to squeak as I felt my feet lift up from the floor, before he carried me towards my bedroom.

Gently he eased me onto the bed, quickly threw off his leather jacket and his shoes, before climbing in next to me.

My arms sneaked around his torso, while I slowly tried to hook one of my legs around his, trying not to put too much weight on him at once, but he just grabbed my thigh like it was nothing and hiked it up. Once again I snuggled my head into his chest and took a whiff of his scent. My quiet humming vibrated against his chest, while he was lovingly stroking my head again.

I could still feel my insides being ripped apart, but I tried to keep my emotions down, because I wanted to enjoy this moment with him, being held in his arms. We stayed like this for a little while, just existing in this moment together as two people who were so undoubtedly in love with each other.

Sooner or later the pain has gotten to a point where I just couldn't keep quiet anymore, so I just hoped that Eddie couldn't hear my silent whimpers of agony. Despite my fragile attempts, he noticed "Baby, if there's anything you need, just talk to me. I'm right here. Let me know if there is anything you want me to help with."

I silently started crying again, before I broke the silence "Christ, I'm such a sensitive bitch, crying over the littlest things. And you? You're such an angel, so calm and reassuring. Do you have any idea how much my heart hurts just knowing you're the most perfect human that I could've ever asked for in my life?" before I could continue with my rant he interrupted me with a small kiss.

"Love, as much as I love you throwing compliments at me, periods make you sappy. You know, I'm far from perfect. You on the other side? The best and most perfect person." His comment made me look at him with puppy dog eyes before I tightened my arms around him and started to cuddle the hell out of him.

"You are my personal Teddie bear, you know that?" He just chuckled at my statement, before slowly removing his arms around me and smirking down at me.

With a last peck to my cheek he shot out of bed and left the room. Since it was just getting comfortable I was confused for a second, till he returned some minutes later with a cup of chocky milk (cause chocky milk makes pain go away, yk?) and a glass of water.

After he set the things on the bedside table, he crawled onto the bed again, but this time instead of taking his place next to me, he placed himself at the bottom part of the bed, before slowly starting to lift my legs. I was curious about his actions, so I let him continue. He then shimmied closer, with his knees on the mattress, before he laid my thighs on top of his.

With eyes full of love and adoration Eddie glanced at me, his hands on my hips, as if he was asking for permission to continue. I couldn't deny his sweet face, so I gave in.

He started lifting up the v neck sweater I was wearing, but stopped halfway. The soft touch of his hands ghosted over my belly, while the cold metal of his rings gave me slight shivers.

Not even a minute later, he was using a little more pressure as his hands went a tiny bit lower. In return of his actions he got to hear a relieved sigh. Suddenly his hands switched positions from my torso to my thighs. He kept on kneading them in nice circular motions, before he switched back to massage my lower stomach.

From time to time he switched between those two areas, sometimes leaning over and leaving soft butterfly kisses on my collarbones and my cleavage.

During the time he was handling my body with utmost care I was able to drink my choky milk. Sometimes I'd hiss if he went a little to deep, but as soon as he'd notice he would go softer again.

In the middle of the procedure he began to hum along to my favourite song which, along with the massage I was getting from him, made me really sleepy.

The only thing I could remember before falling asleep is Eddie leaving a loving kiss on my lips "Good night, baby. I love you"

I don't know how much time passed, when I opened my eyes again, but it was still dark outside. Eddie laid next to me, snoring slightly with the moon illuminating his face and I couldn't help but to admire him. I lightly touched the side of his face, hoping he wouldn't wake up "I love you too"

A small smile graced my features before I cuddled myself into him and fell asleep with the help of his breath's calm movement. Two hearts beating as one.

(small nsfw extra)

Imagine Eddie massaging your thighs and your tummy, while fucking into you with a nice rhythm, during your period, because he heard somewhere, that it helps with period cramps ;) (Steve told him)

(not @ me finishing this, on the last day of my period lol. writing takes forever).

Please if you noticed any mistakes, make sure to let me know, so I can change it. ^^

[kattythingz]

YJ x FMA Pt. 3

Yeaaaaah, I couldn't resist.

I've already made my bed with this one, man. I might as well commit to the bit lmao. This au has been incredibly self-indulgent so far and I'm honestly digging it.

New folks, the main gist of the au is explained in part 1, so direct all your confusion there first :P

🧡 Pt. 1 💛 Pt. 2 🤍

“Holy fucking shit! Are you serious?!”

Ling could hardly contain his grin when Ed exclaimed in what could only be described as sheer scientific euphoria. Kaldur and Artemis let out similar snorts of amusement behind Ling and M’gann outright giggled as Ed ran up to Ship, the previous rush of getting to their escape point completely forgotten in favor of gawking starry-eyed at the majestic aircraft. His arms hovered back-and-forth with a familiar excitement to reach out and touch, before he inevitably caved.

“Holy shit,” Ed repeated, reverent as he brushed a hand over Ship’s indulgent surface. “I knew it. I’m dreaming. I got shocked one too many times and I passed out—”

Ling really couldn’t help the overflowing bubbling of laughter from his chest. It caught Ed’s shining gaze as he pivoted with one hand kept on Ship, the other flinging to jab at Ling. “Tell me I’m dreaming, Ling! Tell me right now!”

“Dude, how old are you again?” Wally chortled, though not cruelly, Ling noted with approval. He would’ve had words to emphasize with his sword if any one of his friends demeaned Ed’s bliss. “It’s like you’ve never seen an airship before. Ship’s pretty plain-looking as far as those go, you know—”

Ship made a beeping noise of protest, and Ed yelped, turning like he could pinpoint the source. Which, now that Ling thought about it—

“Hold on,” Ed said, lightning-struck, and touched his second hand to Ship again. “Hold on. Is this thing—?”

“Alive?” Ling said amusedly, and Ed whirled on him. “I believe ‘sentient’ is the more accurate term M’gann used, but—”

“Shut up!” Ed beamed, and Great Dragon on Ling’s heart—

He’d missed this sight something awful.

The rest of the team were clearly just as endeared. Especially M’gann, as she beamed right back, saying, “Thank you! Ship says she likes you too.”

“‘Ship’?” Ed said. He startled when Ship opened her hatch suddenly. Gently, though Ed didn’t know it. Ling read the moment for him and set a prompting hand on the small of Ed’s back with a tilt of his head, and Ed didn’t waste a second. He climbed slowly up the ramp, like he thought his footsteps could hurt Ship.

The team took their seats easily except for M’gann, who spun in the air to smile at Ed and say, “This is Ship! She’s a friend, even though she might not look it immediately. She’s just as much a member of this team as all of us. Isn’t that right, girl?”

Lights flickered along the side in eager answer, and Ed tracked the reaction greedily. Ling could already see the cogs turning behind those eyes, and the sight warmed his heart beyond comprehension.

“Here,” Ling laughed, pulling Ed back down to Earth and coaxing him by the hand to a vacant corner with two seats, no doubt provided by Ship’s thoughtfulness. Ed followed his second cue to sit, eyes still high above the ground as he took in the finer mechanics.

“Alright,” M’gann announced with noticeable cheer, finally at her seat at the helm. “Everyone strapped in? Sorry, Ed, this might feel a little weird at first.”

“Wha—?”

Ed cut off when Ship began lifting. He let out a yelp when the distance really grew, wobbling on instinct and hands shooting to grip the Ling’s bicep.

Ling remembered how strange the first fly had been on him too. He set an anchoring hand over Ed’s, catching the slightest fear in those eyes and smiling.

“Relax,” Ling told him quietly, to avoid embarrassing Ed with a spectacle. Judging by Ed’s rapid glance in his direction, the gesture was appreciated. “Your ears might ‘pop’ in a second from the air pressure, and it’ll feel uncomfortable for a while after, but you’re otherwise fine.”

“Did someone else tell you that?” Ed said between a grimace. His hands kept taut for a moment as Ship caught a steady pace, before he relaxed under Ling’s hand.

He let out an exhale, casting Ling a smile that time. “That sounds like the sort of talk you’d ask me to repeat ten thousand times for you instead.”

“Rude!” Ling gasped—to no avail. He’d smiled too wide again. “I learned a few things while you were gone, you know. A year’s a long time.”

Ed’s eyes sparkled in the literal changed atmosphere between them now. “Really? Then how’d you end up here immediately?”

“I had a moment of regression. You know how I get when I’m hungry.”

Ling was rewarded with a brilliant laugh for that. 

He completely understood when the sound drew several eyes back to them as well, and there was a pause as the team considered the two of them.

Artemis eventually broke the silence.

“So,” she started with an imperceptible smirk, crossing her legs and leaning back in her seat. “Ling’s infamous fiance.”

“Unfortunately,” Ed said.

The easy humor shifted something in the atmosphere, and faster than anyone could grin, Wally blurted, “What was that you did with the walls? I’ve never seen any earth powers that spontaneous before!”

“Yeah! What kind of power was that?” Robin leaned forward—sounding like his age, to Ling’s relief. Though Robin was undoubtedly much younger than Ling, he so often behaved like, well… Ed and Ling, back in their own teenagehood. This was a nice change. This was good. “You covered all that mass in, like, one motion. And you knew exactly where it would stop.”

Perhaps it was the nerves from being mass-stared at from all corners, but Ed flushed at the admiration. “Oh, well…” He cleared his throat. “That was pretty basic from me, really. I’d usually go for something louder, but I wasn’t sure entirely what was under the walls… It was better safe than sorry in the moment.”

“You couldn’t tell from a touch?” Ling furrowed his brow.

“Not completely.” Ed shook his head. “I had an innate understanding, but I couldn’t put a name to… a lot of the things.” He cast Ship a grimacing onceover. “But I guess I’ll have to get used to that.”

“So that is part of your power?” Kaldur asked, because, naturally, he couldn’t resist his curiosity either. Though his was more tempered. “You understand the components of the earth, and mold it?”

Ed blinked at the astute observation.

“That’s… exactly it, actually,” he said slowly. “I’m surprised you got it in one go…”

“Well,” Ling said, never one to miss a chance with a sly grin, “he is the esteemed leader around here.”

Ever since Ling had learned the team’s average age, he’d made it his life mission, while he was here, to soften them all to act their ages more often. Kaldur, in particular, was a tougher target on par with Artemis, but he, too, had a weakness. Recognizing his competence, for one. Recognizing his competence as leader, for two.

Ed clocked that in an instant, bless his perceptiveness, and he nodded easily. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Kaldur wavered. “You—can tell such a thing?”

“Sure. You’ve got the eye and attitude for it. And you sound a lot like a certain someone.” Ed cast Ling a sideways glance, and Ling pulled his most gracious face. Ed rolled his eyes back to Kaldur. “Next thing you’re gonna tell me, you’re a prince too.”

Wally immediately burst out laughing. “You got it in one! No way!”

“Well, not exactly on the nose,” Robin hummed. “But definitely close enough.”

Kaldur was far too well-mannered to gape, but he most certainly stared at Ed. “How—?”

“Like I said,” Ed snorted, but his grin was genuine as gold, “it’s obvious.”

Kaldur ducked his head, hiding that successful blush under a hand rubbing his neck. “That praise might be undue for the time being. I have only been in this position for a few months. But… thank you.”

And that, too, was a sight Ling had missed. The way Ed positively melted at the image of these kids, walking in shoes too big for their feet but filling the mold so well, for better and for worse. 

Ling had a great feeling about this world, suddenly.

<- prev ◆ next ->

[rriavian]

Hello! I saw your December prompts post, so may I suggest "reunions" for Corinthiel? Would love to see more of them in your style <3

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy how I write them because they are still a very new pairing for me so I'm slightly nervous. Sorry this took a while - I had an idea for what I wanted to write but it only really came together today, so I frantically wrote this on my lunch break haha. Please enjoy! <3

-

A first kiss; yet not that at all, not even close, novelty and familiarity combining sweet and decadent. The dessert one serves to a god, a full flavoured taste Daniel doesn’t need to chase to find.

He still does.

Daniel still licks greedily at his Corinthian’s mouth—will chase what is abundant, will hunt what isn’t rare—still takes and takes and takes.

There are golden white strands soft under his hands, fingers running through the Corinthian’s hair on a loop. It is something of a compulsion, though there is no accident in Daniel’s surrendering to it, no trap here but his own.

The Corinthian surrenders too.

He is a smirking, sauntering thing; laughing into Daniel’s mouth, pushing back with the same claim he’s held with, hands clamping down tightly on slim hips. The wish to bruise is the Corinthian’s own trap; to anchor, to tie them tightly together past the ability of a vow made only with words. No air moves between their skin, even if his fingers could speak the Corinthian doesn’t allow the distance that’s needed to make a sound. They both know drawing back to say sweet words is still withdrawing, is still a parting, time spent separate before reuniting still an unacceptable goodbye.

This is a greeting, a joining, the Corinthian keeps Daniel like this to make it last. He’s slipped his hands beneath the clothes to lay fingerprints on Daniel’s skin, to show the place his hands should always be. Indents to make him incomplete unless he’s being touched.

Daniel very much approves of that.

Hello, he thinks, hello my protector, my guardian, my Corinthian.

It seems they both know how to hunger like a human, have taken that for their own, a concept that serves their own ends. A human appetite compliments an endless one. The greed of wanting every moment—of knowing you will have it—is such to devour infinity while leaving room to spare, but the greed for just one moment makes the now its own banquet. A singular event no crumb. He’d always been so unhurried, is still that same thing making a marathon out of eternity, but occasionally there is an urge to sprint that Daniel doesn’t hesitate to indulge.

The sea may repeat a pattern but that doesn’t mean it’s steady.

The tide can rush in too, frenzied within the structure of its own pattern, can crash wild against a shore lined with cliffs. Even Dream of the Endless can run; wind whipping through his hair, pounding heart and burning lungs, chest rising and falling with rapid, heaving breaths.

This is one second that will never be had again. And that means it must be taken now, must be claimed because it will pass and never ever come back.

It will be lost.

The thought strikes. Daniel curls fingers in the Corinthian’s shirt collar, bites, remembers—aspects always interlocking, he is what he was, and now Morpheus chuckles, murmurs, has waited until desperation hit its height and oh that is so very Dream—aha, it can be kept. Sand can only fall through Daniel's fingers if he lets it go. This can come again; it will, it's already been promised, and oh Daniel can relive whatever he wants within a dream.

He will have this moment a thousand times again. 

Daniel tastes blood from that sharp bite, soothes with a greedy suck at the Corinthian’s lower lip, swallows the moan like taking a breath. It’s a sound made without the sacrifice of distance, another thing to remember, the truth of how that’s a possibility another thing that calms. Yes. Daniel has this. An eternity just like it; his mouth on the Corinthian’s until the world ends, Daniel has the greed to ignore it all as it burns, can spend forever touching him and having him.

He smiles because he knows he will.

A balm for all that distance, all those centuries apart, all those moments where role and duty lies between a kiss. There is space for this instead, no crumb in a moment—

A dream where every second they reunite.

[sleepymarimo]

I saw someone say Toji would never get over his wife dead and would never fall in love again, what do you think about that?

anon!! thank you so much for the message and i'm sorry for the delay, it took me forever to get my thoughts into words. it's a bit of a jumbled mess. i might even go back and add something i forgot lol.

so, i'll break down what i think about this question…

also like mild disclaimer but this is just how i see toji's character! he can be whoever you want 🫡

tldr: i don't think it's impossible, but he's not gonna make it easy for you!

wc: a little over 1k-ish?

so, according to mr. gege, toji gave himself to megumi-mama wholly. he was undoubtedly in love with her and i believe that he fell for her first. given his history with the zen'in clan, one can maybe assume that megumi-mama was just unlike anyone else he'd ever met. to me, it makes sense that toji would fall for her first, whether it was her kindness or other aspect of her character.

minor side note here, but i feel like we don't truly know much about megumi-mama's character. all we know is that she significantly impacted toji's life and honestly, i love her character. if she has no fans, i am dead </3 it's a classic case of real recognizing real, and toji would not be the man he is without her. i

anyway…

following the death of his late wife, plus the time toji momentarily spent as a somewhat proper husband and father, i'd say he's self-aware to the point that he won't allow himself the chance to fall in love again.

that said, impossible is a strong word. i think, given the right person and conditions, he can get himself to fall in love again.

the 'who falls in love first' question is hard to answer. he falls first, he might protect himself and dip before things get too deep. you fall first, start to ask him for commitments, he'll feel like he's suffocating.

if you fall first:

due to his freeloading tendencies and overall lifestyle at this point in the story, he's not above taking what you willingly give him. truly, to me, there's a very sensitive balance that must be maintained when it comes to handling the sorcerer killer.

to hand everything to him on a silver platter would be his dream. he'll stick around, he might even pretend to care. he's not above taking the easy street while keeping his options open. you're good and great, but if someone is offering more, he's off.

while toji has no respect for himself or others, i believe he has a thing for people who can hold their own ground and respect themselves.

remember when todo asks megumi what his type is and megumi's answer was a person with an unshakable character? a person with a moral compass that isn't easily swayed? yeah, i believe he gets that from his dad.

sticking to your guns, not being a complete pushover, catches toji's attention.

if you were to fall in love first, but keep some solid boundaries and don't let him walk all over you, that's a plus. he might try to push a little (since he'd catch on pretty quick if you were crushing on him), but if you hold your ground and don't let him take, take, take… that earns you points.

i like to think of keeping a loose leash, keeping him in your orbit and allowing him to do his thing. he might not even realize that he comes to your place first, that he stops entertaining others. yet, the second you start tugging, shortening that leash, he'll flail and bail.

if he falls first:

if toji gets the feeling that he's, well, feeling things for you, nothing is stopping him from severing the connection right then and there. he can find other beds to crash, other scraps to eat. whether he acknowledges it or not, he's a runner. there's no need to make things complicated when he can simply leave it all behind.

it's an interesting thing because yes, he can be selfish and indulgent, but ultimately he's protecting himself. in my opinion, one of the reasons he's wary about falling in love again is because it requires him to make himself vulnerable. and by being vulnerable, he has to give up control.

he's been vulnerable all his life, whether it was being the zen'in's punching bag or falling in love only to have megumi-mama die, and has been hurt physically, emotionally, mentally, etc.

to fall in love again and have that kind of connection is... a lot. it's easier to brush attachments off, to stay in control and enjoy the fleeting pleasures of life.

but, like i said, nothing is impossible.

under the right conditions, i think toji can be tempted to stick around. not that he has to be forced to see you, but having a link to you makes it a little more difficult for him to leave. some fun scenarios to think about would be:

a reader who works at his favorite food joint. why would he give up the best offal in town?

a reader who is a secretary for one of his clients, maybe a client themselves, someone he frequently does business with

a reader who also dapples in underground work, maybe an informant, etc.

a reader who works at a race track, or somewhere he usually goes to place bets

get the gist? if he just knows you as an acquaintance with no other link, it's easier for him to leave. associate yourself with a place or person that he can't quite walk away from, and it's just a bit harder to walk away.

should this be the case, then i think it would be more likely for him to fall first, depending on your interactions of course.

unlike with megumi-mama, who he gave himself to wholly, he'll give you bit and pieces of him, like a puzzle. even if he starts to get attached, he's hesitant to put all of his eggs in one basket. so over the period of time that he knows you, he'll start revealing more or doing more, and he watches your reactions.

it's not the most healthy, mature thing in the world, but i feel that he'd totally 'test' you.

it's like he's waiting for you to walk away, to confirm the bias he already has that he can't do love again. you'll either pass his tests or confront him about his behavior, both which i think can potentially work in your favor.

eventually, as i mentioned before, he'll start to come around more and see less women until you're the only person he's with.

once he's in, he's in.

i'm just gonna go off topic a bit here but..

will it be different? yes. will he compare to megumi-mama? probably. she will cross his mind, maybe things he used to do with her, he'll do with you and he has to learn how to separate those things. will he feel guilty? there's a good chance. like i said, it's something he has to learn to accept.

like i said, off topic, but imo this man really needs a partner who is emotionally mature. hell, if you're able to talk to him about his late wife, maybe even convince him to go to visit her grave, it would heal him in ways that he didn't even know he needed.

well… i hope that answered your question anon! if you have any more, pls let me know! it means a lot that you asked me and trust my opinion 😭

like i said before, this is just my opinion on toji and how i view his character while writing :P

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @captain-hen @anxieteandbiscuits @lemonzestywrites @forthewolves @king-buckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @shitouttabuck @lover-of-mine @thewolvesof1998 @heartshapedvows @jesuisici33 @hoodie-buck @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @exhuastedpigeon

thank you all! sorry it took me so long to do this <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

582,638

3. What fandoms do you write for?

only 911 at first but now i have a fringe fic and a wolfsong fic in the works

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head (eddie comes out to buck and to be supportive buck buys eddie a very gay mug)

today i live for a single drop of you (5 times buck dreams about sucking eddie's cock and 1 time he actually gets to do it)

when the violence causes silence (set after 6x10, eddie dealing with the aftermath of the lightning strike and working out how to confess his feelings)

we live and breathe words (buck finds eddie's poetry and realizes eddie is in love with him and decides to do something about it)

slowly getting sober from the taste of your skin (pwp, threesome between buck, eddie, and evil doctor buck)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do! at least, i do my best, i know sometimes i get the notification and look away and completely forget asdfghjkll, but i love responding and weeping about my gratitude

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ummm all of my fics have happy endings sooooo i don't have an answer for this

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ummm maybe red life might stream again because eddie and buck went through a lot of shit in that fic so i made it my mission to give them the happiest and sappiest ending possible

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have been very lucky in that i haven't

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

oh yes i do. and i suppose it's very emotional and sappy smut. i do try to balance filthy and sweet

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

never written one

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to me knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

me and @elvensorceress started writing a s2 rewrite where shannon lives that i absolutely adore, it's taken a bit of a backburner but it lives forever in my heart. also me and @spaceprincessem plan on writing one that im sure will be so very self-indulgent

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

gotta be buddie (though polivia from fringe is a close second)

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

im not sure. i plan on getting all of my wips done at some point and i don't really think there is one that i won't (at least not at this point)

16. What are your writing strengths?

descriptions i think. i can paint a pretty picture and definitely have flowery purple prose. and a lot of people have told me i am good at characterization which i always worry about but am glad to hear that's it's something im good at even if i doubt it

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i cannot shut up. everything i write is so lengthy even when it doesn't need to be. being succinct definitely isn't my strong suit. and uhh i struggle with writing dialogue because i will get lost in the character's headspace and forget people are supposed to be talking

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i absolutely love it though i don't do it often because i get nervous about it. thankfully i have friends that i can ask if i am unsure about something and im trying to get more comfortable doing it

19. First fandom you wrote for?

supernatural

20. Favourite fic you've written?

gotta be to you i'm just a man (to me you're all i am) because i put my heart and soul into that fic and i really loved delving into the 118's dynamic and everyone's relationship with buck and creating new circumstances for eddie and buck to fall in love

no pressure tagging (and sorry if you've already been tagged) @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @bvckandeddie @colonoscopys @housewifebuck @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @paranoidbean @911onabc @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @try-set-me-on-fire @bucks118 @devirnis @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @transboybuckley @rewritetheending @eddiediaztho @callaplums

[aureatchi]

hello, reverie. i am truly sorry to bother you. i saw your reblog about your selfships, and i adore the concepts. if you would be so kind, i would like to ask if you have any recommendations for books or movies that would match the 'academia' vibe you provided, and of course, if you could give me some. thank you.

please forgive me if my english is unnatural and forced, for it is not my first language. 🐇

nonnie !! my lovely don’t ever apologize, you’re not bothering me at all !! :< i’m sorry i’ve let my asks pile up sm this week, i’ve seen a few others signed by you & i promise i will get to them soon (i’m honestly js cherishing them to myself rn hehe bcz i love getting fedya asks & you’ve indulged me sm 🥹; i promise i’ll release them soon !!)

but anyways THANK YOU SM FOR ASKING :’) i’m so in love w/ this ask omg. honestly i swear there’s something out there tht could fit our exact dynamic perfectly but i’ll have to do more searching (& reading; unfortunately school’s haven’t given me time to read things for fun these past couple of years :< but once i can balance out my classes this year i’ll def get into the habit again (˘ ˘ ˘) !!) js for you nonnie i’ll come back & reblog this post when i’ve found more in this genre i could relate to w/ updates ᰔ

& btw if anyone else thinks of anything tht could relate pls pls tell me, i’d totally check it out <3

but WHAT I HAVE SO FAR !! the secret history & if we were villains ofc; ik they’re so popular but the first is rly the blueprint for the ‘dark academia vibe’ imo 🥹. & let me talk abt the second…

if we were villains is abt a group of theatre kids who study about shakespeare. (LOL is this already typical of me?) they are all close friends (altho they acc all have complex feelings abt each other) but one tragic night results in a murder of one of them. the book is basically about how all of it came to be. there’s this one line that goes “do you blame shakespeare for any of it?” & the main character replies “i blame him for all of it.” i was rly inspired by how the theme of shakespeare was incorporated into the story & how it caused such tragedy (even though shakespeare wasn’t an actual character; even alive, etc.) therefore, i took inspiration from it to add to the fyozai academia universe, where our demise is ofc…the fyozai chess game tht asagiri also uses as a metaphor in bsd !! & it’s both literal & a theme — the three of us all literally play chess, & it’s also used as a metaphor for MY three-way manipulation mind game… 🙂‍↕️ hehe.

also i feel like fyodor is so henry winter from the secret history. but anyways ik these are only two, so i promise i’ll come back w/ more recs for you !! (esp since it’s almost autumn) they’re both supa similar — TSH is basically the same plot as IWWV except they study greek/latin instead of shakespeare, but i enjoyed both of them.

your english is perfect, btw. :)

[c-c-cherry]

HELLO you may recognise me as the artist that drew that one whole scene from chapter 7!! thought i'd drop in to say:

FIRST OF ALL midterms are the pain ever, i wish you all the best!! stay hydrated <3

SECOND OF ALL thank you for taking the time to leave such a long and heartfelt reply on my post asjcjkdj it made me really really happy and giddy for the rest of the day i'm so glad i managed to portray the characters and envision the scenes the way you intended us to! your writing is absolutely gorgeous and i hope you're doubting its quality less, because it is top tier.

speaking of your writing i was tempted to talk about why i really loved the fic in the post itself but felt like it was really long already 😭

so here i am, this may be long, i apologise in advance for my rambling, in this essay-

REIGEN'S SPIRALLING DOWN THE NEGATIVE SELF TALK WAS SO HEART BREAKING BUT SO RAW, IN A WAY, LIKE IT HURTS THAT HE REALLY THINKS NO ONE NEEDS HIM AROUND AND EVERYONE WOULD BE FINE/BETTER OFF W/O HIM. BUT SO SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN POSITIVELY IMPACTED BY HIM AND SO MANY PEOPLE LOVE HIM AND WANT HIM AND NEED HIM

I LOVE HOW REIGEN WAS FORCED TO FACE THAT TRUTH THROUGH DIMPLE'S MEMORIES, I LOVE HOW DIMPLE CARES AND IS CONCERNED FOR REIGEN WHILE BEING BRUTAL AND A LITTLE SHIT

i love how everyone turns to teru because he's reliable and he's smart but he's just a 14 year old who's had to be his own adult for way too long and he's just trying to figure things out, too. I LOVE HATE THE WAY HE TRIES TO FILL REIGEN'S SHOES, I LOVE THEIR FATHER-SON DYNAMIC

getting me started on ritsu would be a mistake as i may write a 13k word essay if left unattended BUT in short, I LOVE THE WAY YOU DEPICTED HIS TRAUMA, HIS EXTREMELY HUMAN, EMOTIONAL REACTION TO MOB POTENTIALLY LOSING CONTROL, THE WAY HE ISN'T OVER IT, BECAUSE REALLY THATS SO UNDERSTANDABLE, THE WAY HE'S JUST A SMALL, SCARED 13 YEAR OLD JUST OUGHHH

MOB AND HIS CONCERN FOR REIGEN, HIM STEPPING UP EVEN THOUGH HE KNEW HIS SHISHOU COULD BE DEAD INSIDE THE OFFICE, HIS BRAVERY AND HIS COMPASSION. AND THE ONE MEMORY? WHERE HES ASKING REIGEN NOT TO LEAVE SO SOON, NOT WITHOUT SAYING SOMETHING I CRIED. I CRIED OK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

SERIZAWA DESPITE BEING ARGUABLY THE MOST ANXIOUS ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION, STEPPING UP!! TAKING CHARGE AND BEING MATURE AND DOING HIS BEST, FOR THE KIDS AND FOR HIMSELF AND ESPECIALLY FOR REIGEN

and shou oh my god i love that he tags along, that he's included but feels like an outcast in their group, the way he's there because he cares but he thinks he doesn't really have the right since he's not as close to reigen. HES SO ALONE BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO INTEGRATE INTO THEIR CIRCLE, SO HE KIND OF HANGS AROUND THE EDGE AND GOOD LORD I WISH THEY'D JUST PULL HIM IN

in conclusion i want to hug them all. i haven't felt this many emotions in so long cherry you did amazing and trust me you're going to keep doing amazing, because you are you

if you read all the way here thank you for bearing w me 😭😭 i hope you're doing well, you said you recovered from a mystery sickness recently? take care ok, we support you!! <3

-bloo

Hello Bloo!! I’m so sorry it took me this long to finally reply. Life is life, and now I’m here! But just know that I’ve been rereading this ask consistently because it makes me so happy that my work can…make people think THOUGHTS? In-depth thoughts that they want to share with me?? It still barely feels real to me that people are liking my silly self-indulgent fic where I make the business man suffer. So thank you! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it, and thank you again for that deliciously-crafted fan comic! :)

I'm sparing your poor souls from a Cherry ramble under the cut. But for those who wanna peek inside my silly head:

As for what you’re saying about the fic itself…yeah HAHA. You’ve got it down. As someone who’s completely desensitized to their own ideas and the execution of said ideas, I don’t know how obvious all my little underlying themes and ulterior plot lines have been, but your interpretation of it all is pretty spot on. I’m a sucker for forcing characters to face their own truth via IMPOSSIBLE circumstances and then dragging every other character into a whirlpool of chaos and conflict and confrontation in turn. It makes it all the more fun >:)

I’ve been trying to write the characters carefully so their dynamics blend or clash or do anything else that I please, and that means letting them roam free and interact with each other while keeping their special character quirks. I love writing Mob constantly on the verge of guilty instability, Seri having to step his ass up despite his confidence not yet being 100%, Shou and his mysterious ways that are SO worth exploring because he's such a complex character despite not appearing a lot in canon, Ritsu’s impulsive, fear-driven, 13-year-old antics (and that dreaded stop sign), and of course, Reigen and all his pathetic self-loathing. In fact, ALL of them have been incredibly fun to write because ONE has amazing, fleshed-out characters that interact so well together. BUT I’ve been surprised with how much I’ve loved writing Dimple and Teru especially. Dimple’s not hard to write at all for me, but his interactions with the other characters in writing are ADDICTING, and I didn't expect that. I will say this forever, but I want Dimple in more fics because of the POTENTIAL. LET THE FART CLOUD HAVE THE SPOTLIGHT!! As for Teru—you can ask anyone who was around for the first few draft chapters of AH—I was very hesitant to write him at all. I personally think his character is very hard to nail, and I’m honestly surprised at how much the audience has taken to his role and his little moments within the fic—that encouragement and influence definitely made him appear more than I originally anticipated :)

I could ramble for hours about every character and all their inner complexities that I'd love to explore in this work and others. But I will stop myself here hahaha.

Thank you for this sweet little breakdown of what you’re enjoying in AH so far. It makes me feel very happy :) And thank you all for all the support! It really means a lot.

As for my mysterious sickness from a few weeks ago, it has vanished! Student life is crawling with unknown bacteria. It's like you're in daycare all over again, or perhaps a medieval plague ward. Now all I have to do is battle the turbulent trials of finals :’)