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caesium-55 · 1 month

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—seven days. [ vi.i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore

author's note: i dunno if this is good cuz i have to delete a lot of scenes to make everything fit djsjjj. AND pls listen to two weeks notice by leanna firestone. 🐝 anon shared it to me and AAAAAAAHHH it captures the main vibe of the fic

masterlist.

"New shoes?”

The shoes come in black and it features a sleek silhouette with a pointed toe and a golden heel that is shaped as the letters Y, S, and L. Max is no expert in shoes but he knows how to recognize a luxury shoe if he sees one.

“Pretty lil things, aren't they?” you bring your foot forward to flaunt it.

Max doesn't know if it’s the heels that makes your feet look pretty or if the heels look pretty because you have pretty feet. Contrary to popular belief, Max does not have a feet kink. He just knows how to appreciate the aesthetics of a body part.

“Three years of savin’ and I finally got ‘em.”

“Good for you?” Is that an appropriate thing to say to a woman who just bought nice-looking shoes?

Max sees Daniel hug you after the Azerbaijan GP. You have twinning smiles on your face. Max's curiosity grows. You pull away from the hug and wave goodbye, returning to the garage, to where Max is standing and waiting for you.

“What did you and Daniel talk about?” he asks and if he sounds like he’s demanding, he doesn't mean it.

You stop walking, finally noticing Max's presence. The smile on your face fades a little but it doesn't completely disappear. “Oh, hi? Congrats on the podium today, big guy.”

“What were you and Daniel talking about?” Max asks again.

“‘s not important.”

“I want to know.”

You give Max an odd look, probably questioning why he wants to know so badly. He doesn't know why either. He just wants to know.

“Renault has an open spot in their engineering team,” you finally say, smile growing wide. You’re literally vibrating in excitement as you say it.

Max feels like someone just poured a bucket of iced water over his body.

“Engineer? Why would you even apply in Renault’s engineering team?” he sees your face shift and he wonders if his question is offensive. It does not seem like it is. For Max anyway.

“I’m an engineer, Max,” you're gritting your teeth, Max notices.

Oh, Max realizes. This was why Christian mentioned moving her to the engineering team. He thought you’re going to be their manager or something. Do engineers get managers, too? Max doesn't know.

Max’s world shifts off its axis when he realizes the bigger meaning carried by your words. You want to leave.

“No.”

You make a weird face, “No?”

“No, stay.”

He is perfectly aware that he is in no position to ask this of you. If you want to be an engineer and chase your dreams, you can. No one has the right to stop you. That's your dream. That's your life.

But do you really need to leave?

Suddenly, this becomes like the Daniel situation all over again.

Max isn't sure the exact time you begin holding this much importance over his life that he’s suddenly afraid of your absence. Max still won't consider the two of you friends per se, but he does not want you in Renault. He wants you here, behind him, following him at all times. You don't have to follow Daniel to fucking Renault.

Renault just keeps taking everything from him. First, it’s Daniel, his best friend and teammate. Max will not allow himself to lose you over to Renault and their sucky cars.

“Funny how you think you got a say in this,” you do the thing where you shift your feet lightly so you’re facing Max fully, one hand on your waist while the other rests limp on your side, your head slightly tilts to the right. There's a bulge on your cheek, where your tongue is pressing inside it, and one of your brows is cocked.

“You don't have to go to Renault. You can stay here,” he adds and it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

“And what Max? Let all the money I spent in engineering school go to waste?”

“Do you not want to be my manager anymore?”

“No offense, buddy, but I’ll choose being an engineer.”

Fair point but Max is still hurt anyway. Why are people always leaving him? Is it that hard to choose him and love him? Is he not a good enough reason to stay? Maybe it's because he's not a world champion yet. Maybe it's because he's not someone praiseworthy yet.

“I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I’ll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.”

Max hopes you believe him.

The 2019 season ends with Lewis Hamilton at the top. Valtteri Bottas is close behind him. After Bottas stands Max Verstappen.

He’ll understand if you're making your application letter to Renault at this very moment. And yet, you come knocking on his hotel door.

“You’re trashin’ the room again,” you say, not ask but say, when Max opens the door and this is like 2018 again when he trashed his entire hotel room for coming in fourth. You even wear the same clothes as last year—a Red Bull polo shirt and a black pencil skirt with the same cream tote bag with peach prints but the shoes are different. “Sour loser much?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too,” you reply in a nonchalant tone, not even taking offense that Max has cursed you out. “Lemme see your hands. I have a cold canned beer.”

“I didn't punch the wall.”

Not yet at least. He’s definitely planning to, before you have decided to knock on his door.

“Well then,” you thrust the beer towards him. “Good thing’s beer has multiple purposes. Bruised knuckles? Beer. Bruised ego? Beer.”

Angrily, Max takes the beer in your hands. He really can't deal with you right now.

“Don't worry, man. You’ll be world champion one day. You have the makings of one,” you assure him and your words are too unexpected that Max stiffens. “Not this year but one day.”

“Why can't it be this year?” he asks after a few seconds' pause.

You shrug your shoulders, “Not your time yet, I suppose.”

Then, you turn around and walk away, the loud clicks of your black and gold heels echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer in his hand.

He’s trying (emphasis on the word trying) to prepare himself snacks so he can eat while sim-racing. It's the off-season right now and his mother and his sister have decided to visit his place in Monaco and stay for a few days before they fly together to Belgium and spend the holidays there. Daniel’s name appears on the notification bar of Max’s phone.

daniel: is [name] in monaco rn or did she go home for the off season

max: why would she be in monaco right now

daniel: she lives there

max: [name] lives in monaco?

daniel: you didn't know??

daniel: she’s been living there since last year

daniel: ever wondered why she comes by our building a lot?

max: how am i supposed to know

daniel: she's your manager

max: well we don't exactly talk about where we live

daniel: i cant believe you

daniel: shes been living there since she was my manager

max: that long???

daniel: i cant with you sometimes

daniel: neways do u have her number?

daniel: i think she got it changed a month ago and i forgot to ask her

daniel: she's not answering my messages in ig

max: yeah yeah i do

daniel: great

daniel: can u call her and ask if she’s in the country?

max: ok

daniel: cool cool

daniel: appreciate it,, man

You answer the phone on the second ring.

“Need anythin’, man?”

When will he hear you call him Max rather than man, dude, bro, big guy, big boy, darlin’ (teasingly), or loser?

“Hi [Name]. I’m calling because, uh, Daniel messaged me,” he begins. “He said you’re not replying to his messages on Instagram.”

“Oh, my bad, my bad. I’ll check it out later, still out playin’ ball right now.”

“He’s asking if you're in Monaco right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Flight’s still next week. Why’s he askin’?”

“Okay,” he doesn't know what else is there to say. “I didn't even know you live in Monaco.”

“Well, I do,” he hears someone yelling your name. “Aight, anythin’ else you wanna know?”

“Nothing. Nothing else.”

“Okay. Stay safe out there, my guy.”

“You, too.”

The call ends and suddenly, the world feels too silent.

max: yeah she's here

max: she said her flight is scheduled next week

daniel: perfect

daniel: i have her christmas gift with me rn she better be there when i land

daniel: i have to wrap this up on the plane

daniel: do you know how hard it is to gift wrap smth during a flight

Max’s brows furrow. Perhaps he has underestimated the depth of their friendship. They're close enough that they give each other gifts. Or at least, she’s close with Daniel enough that he buys her gifts.

max: safe travels daniel

Daniel arrives a day later, which coincidentally is the same day Sophie, Max’s mother, and Victoria, his sister, landed in Monaco as well. Max’s mother adores Daniel, which is not surprising because everyone adores Daniel.

“Join us for lunch, Daniel,” Sophie invites him. Max and Victoria stand behind her. The three of them are heading out for lunch when they come across Daniel, who is also heading out, at the lobby of the apartment building.

“Sorry, Sophie, but I have an appointment today with [Name],” Daniel scratches his nape and smiles apologetically. Sophie perks up at the mention of [Name].

“Max’s manager?”

“Yes, Max’s manager,” Daniel nods enthusiastically.

“Invite her, too! I’ve always wanted to meet her. She sounds like an amazing girl from what Max has told me.”

Max groans, “Mom, please.”

He may or may not have talked about [Name] during his calls with his mother. Mostly, it's complaints. His mother has laughed at him, used to hee son's constant complaining. Despite that, she still thinks [Name] is good for her son. It's good that someone is able to rein you in when needed, she said.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love it. How about I call her and we’ll meet you at the restaurant in a few?” Daniel says.

Everything is settled. Max has reserved a private room for the whole lunch meeting so he can enjoy the privacy of lunch with his family. Less than an hour later, you arrive with Daniel.

Max almost drops the fork when he sees you walking towards them, just a few steps behind the grinning Daniel.

You look different than usual. Max is yet to decide if it's a good type of different or not, because when his eyes land on you, he feels like a thousand elephants have begun a violent rampage in his chest.

You’re not wearing the usual Red Bull polo shirt—perhaps that's why Max feels odd because he’s so used to seeing you wearing it—and instead, you were in a bustier jumpsuit with a white long-sleeved button-up shirt under it.

It looks a little too tight in Max’s opinion, hugging your body in a way that Max thinks you cannot breathe. He can't even breathe when he looks at you right now.

Daniel and you stop in front of the table and Max’s mother stands to kiss you both on the cheek. Max then notices that you’re carrying two bouquets in your hand. Funny how they're so huge and colorful but for some reason, he hasn't noticed them since you walked into the room.

“For you, Ma’am,” you smile as you hand the bouquet to Max’s mother, who gasps in delight. “Welcome to Monaco.”

Then, you turn to Victoria and hand her the other bouquet, “For you, too, Miss Victoria. Welcome to Monaco.”

“Please, have a seat, you two. We’ve already ordered for you," Max's mother says. You and Daniel sit down.

You and Daniel quickly engage in conversation with Max’s mother. Victoria elbows Max, leaning over his ear to whisper, “You have a good manager, Max.”

“You just like her because she got you flowers," Max whispers back.

Victoria chuckles and the Verstappen siblings join in the conversation.

Lunch is a pleasant event. Everyone loves the food. Everyone laughs. Everyone is having a good time. However, good things always come to an end. Daniel has to leave early because he has an appointment. Max is supposed to drive Victoria and his mother to the department store because they planned on shopping together as a family and buy gifts for their relatives in Belgium. But since Daniel left and he was your ride going to the restaurant, that means you have no ride going home.

You insist that you can hail a cab or even walk to your apartment since it’s “just three streets away” but Max notices that your smile looks too forced and Max calls bullshit. Max may not know where you live but he knows you're lying. Thankfully, his mother seems to share the same sentiments and push you towards Max.

“Don't worry, honey. He’s a good driver. You're in safe hands.”

“I’m really fine, Ma’am,” you try again.

“Call me Sophie,” she says, her hand comes up to your shoulder and you flinch a little. “You take good care of Max. It's the least he can do for you. Also, I’m a woman, honey. I know the pain of walking a good distance in heels. Don't subject yourself to that pain.”

You don't protest any further and the four of you hop into Max’s car. Max drives Sophie and Victoria to a department store and drops them off. He kisses his mother’s cheek as they bid a temporary goodbye. Afterwards, he instructs you to type down your address on the GPS so he can drive you to where you live.

When he reads the address you input, he snorts. You whip your head around to give him a dirty look.

“Three streets down,” he says, amused. “Really?”

“Shut up, ‘s just on the other side of the city.”

“It's still far.”

The first few minutes of the drive is silent. You sit on the passenger seat with your earbuds in and legs crossed, leaning most of your weight against the car door so your back posture sort of resembles a person with mild scoliosis. Max hears you hum along the song you’re listening to, your fingers tapping along the rhythm.

Max taps your shoulder. You turn to him, pulling off one of your earbuds.

“Somethin’ wrong?” you ask.

Why do you always assume something's wrong when he calls your attention? Does he really only talk to you when he has a problem?

Max gestures to the AUX, “You can connect your phone to my car.”

You gasp dramatically, a hand pressing on your chest, “You’re givin’ me AUX privilege? Truly honored.”

Max rolls his eyes.

“But I don't think you’ll like what I listen to,” you add.

“Try me.”

El Alfa songs have electrifying and infectious rhythms and Max may not understand the lyrics but not understanding the song lyrics can't stop a person from enjoying a song. El Alfa songs are the type of songs that you’ll hear in parties and in the streets.

“By the way,” Max begins. The song changes into something else—Sofia, the title reads, sung by Alvaro Soler. It's a whole different vibe from the previous song. “Thank you for giving my mum and sister flowers today. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trynna be nice,” you say nonchalantly. “Glad they liked it.”

“Also, you look nice today.”

You slowly turn to him. You have this weird expression on your face like you have an aneurysm but also indigestion and mild stroke.

“Did you eat somethin’ weird at the restaurant?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Then why are you playin’ nice?”

Max rolls his eyes, “I can punch you if you want.”

“Yeah, right, as if you can. Your mother raised you too well to throw hands to the ladies.”

Max closes his mouth.

“See? I’m right,” you continue. “You’ll fight any man on the grid but you won't fight me even though I annoy you every day. You're not like your father, Max.”

Max clears his throat awkwardly. He does not know how to respond to you. You're too… too… honest.

“But thank you,” you say. “Borrowed this from my roomie ‘cuz I don't own any nice clothes.”

You wear branded clothing way too well for someone to think otherwise.

The song switches. Danza Kuduro starts playing. Max knows this one. He watched Fast Five.

Max stops the car outside the apartment building, but instead of hopping off, you rummage through your tote bag—still the cream-colored one with peach prints, it looks so worn down now—and pull out a….it looks like a beaded bracelet but it's not closed on the ends.

“What's this?” he asks when you hand it to him. Red and navy blue beads—the color of Red Bull.

“Consider this as my gift for the holidays. I made Daniel one so it makes sense that I give you one as well.”

Oh. Max blinks at you then glances down at the little thing in his palm. Something warm blooms in Max’s heart.

“That's very thoughtful of you.”

Panic follows. His head snaps up.

“But I haven't bought you anything.”

“That's okay, man,” you smile and open the door. “Thanks a lot for today.”

You step outside and close the door after you before Max can even utter another word. Max watches as you jog inside the building. He shakes his head when you disappear from his vision, hangs the beaded keychain with his keys, and drives back to where he drops his mother and sister off earlier.

Sophie notices the keychain and compliments it. She asks his son if he got into the hobby of creating things out of beads. Max shakes his head and tells her that the keychain is a gift from you.

His mother visibly lights up, “You should get her a gift!”

Max gets into thinking. Yeah, he should.

He meets you a day before your flight to Texas in the lobby of the building where you live. You gave him a keychain. It's only appropriate that he gives you keys. (You don't seem very happy with the gift though for God knows what reason but Max is adamant on giving it to you and will not stop at a no.

“I want you close,” he says, surprised by the sincerity that exited his mouth.

“Well, I don't.” Your words sting a little. Max ignores it.

He ends up giving you a different key. You say the other key is too expensive. Max is not thrilled but it's still a key and this certain key, you accept. So Max is happy.)

Max flies to Belgium a few days after you and celebrates the holidays with his mother's side of the family. He calls your cell in the middle of the night, Belgium is six hours ahead of Texas so Max is sure it's around four in the afternoon from where you are. He does not expect you to answer as quickly as you did.

“Somethin’ wrong?” your voice sounds rough like you’ve been asleep.

“Hi, uhm,” Max clears his throat. He’s a little tipsy right now and his words are flying around in his brain. “Happy holidays.”

There's a pause.

“You called me for that?”

“Can you stop being mean? It's the holidays.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kinda?”

“Well then,” Max hears a ruffle of sheets and suddenly, he feels bad for waking you up. “Happy holidays to you, too, bud. Appreciate the effort and the money you spent on making this call. International calls are expensive as fuck.”

They're not. At least, Max thinks they're not.

“Can I get your Instagram? The one you use to talk to Daniel?”

“My priv? Why?”

“Because I just want it.”

“Brat. You can’t follow that account usin’ your public account. PR has access to your account and they’ll see my shit. I don't want them to see my shit.”

“Then, I’ll make a private account and we’ll follow each other.”

He hears you sigh.

“You promise not to give PR access to that account?”

“Hm. I promise.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Send me the details and I’ll follow you when I wake up, aight?”

Max giggles, “Okay.”

“Anythin’ else?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Aight, I’ll continue my nap. You enjoy yourself there.”

“Okay.”

Then, COVID happens.

#mv33 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x you

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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

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Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.

Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!

A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!

“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over.

“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous.

“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.

“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.

“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.

“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”

“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him.

“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.

“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.

“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”

Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.

The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.

“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.

“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.

“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”

“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.

“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.

“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations.

Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.

“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.

“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life.

“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.

“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.

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jovialmoonprincess · 5 months

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AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

----------

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #president snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #enemy to lovers #angst #angst with a happy ending #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #fem reader #hunger games au #fluff #tigris snow #thg #snow #tom blyth #coriolanus x fem!reader

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tartigglez · 1 year

Note

Hello tunblr user that I have NEVER spoken to before

Can I pretty please request dragon!zhongli doing dragon!Zhongli things

Like hoarding shiny things, and having a tail and hating random plants and squid 😭😭😭😭 idk I’m just hoping that something in this magically inspires your brain BUT feel free to ignore me

(I also really wanted to initiate ur ask box lol)

~ 🌷 anon <3

Why hello there tumblr user who i have also never spoken to! i hope this is uh,,, acceptable.

it was so hard to find a title for this oml

"my natural form...?"

zhongli x gn!reader

genre: fluff, pure unfiltered fluffiness, such fluff, many fluffitude

word count: 500-ish

tags: retail addict zhong bc we love to see it, possessive zhong, zhong hates fish zhong, protective zhong (hes a cutie patootie guys omgomomgomgomgogmogmHDKAJH), venti makes a cameo/reader is a traveller but not tHE traveller bc THEYRE MINORS I REFUSE TO WRITE THAT. thats kinda it

tw/cw: possessive dragon boi, it lowkey seems like lightly toxic behaviour but i think thats it

a/n: i wrote a little smol bit of this every night this week so its maybe a bit disjointed but whatever. this was fun to write ty tulip bb. zhongli is the cutest im so sOFT FOR THIS MAN AAAA. also send me asks, ples, pls, plsssssssss, pls.

dragon!zhongli who will buy pretty things without even realising that he quite literally has a retail addiction. will put things in random places in your house then get really confused when you move them. he keeps closely monitored stock of everything.

“darling, have you seen my golden vase anywhere”

“which golden vase?”

“the one i purchased last week, at the market”

“i put flowers in it, it’s in the kitchen”

“okay, okay, good”

“you seem awfully worried about it”

“i am not, i simply… wished to know where it was… is all.”

“i see.”

dragon!zhongli who is lowkey possessive over you but refuses to admit it, also he feels that jealousy is not a good shade on him. But he’s a dragon, and you’re his most prized treasure, so it is only natural to him to protect you, right? it can’t be helped. he's got a really good sense of smell, so he can always tell who you’ve been around in the past few hours, but won’t tell you because he's afraid it’ll freak you out.

(side note: he totally loves your scent and will compliment you on it all the time, like he’ll bury his head in your neck to calm himself down omg)

“my dear, who was with you earlier?”

“the guild had me teleport to mondstadt for a commission, why?”

“nothing my love, i simply- nevermind”

you look him in the eyes doubtfully

“tell.”

“alright. you were with the anemo archon, yes?”

“i was. i was sent out to windrise to fight some hilichurls, i ran into him and he helped me defeat them, why?”

“nothing, darling. the hilichurls didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“when has a hilichurl ever hurt me?”

“it is difficult to argue with that logic.”

dragon!zhongli who despite literally creating the harbour, refuses to go near the markets. he cannot stand the smell of the seafood that the merchants sell, so despite trying to “blend in” whilst in his mortal form, he will rarely be sighted outside the innermost parts of the city.

“li’”

“yes, dear?”

“shall we take a stroll by the harbour? i have a free hour this afternoon and we should spend some time together. i haven’t spent much time with you this week, and i've missed you.”

“i have missed you too, love, however i think that-”

“you think?”

“i think that it is rather cold, down by the harbour. Shall we go to the teahouse instead?”

dragon!zhongli who is unconsciously protective of you in his sleep. he will wrap his tail around your form when cuddling, as a literal natural response. puts it around your waist and between your arms whilst spooning you so you can hug it like a teddy bear whilst he puts little kisses on your shoulders as you doze off. tells you the stories of years gone by as you sleep to vent his worries.

“li’”

“darling?”

“tell a story”

“must i?”

“yes, you must!”

“very well my dear, close your eyes.”

#zhongli #zhongli headcanons #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #cael is talking to 🌷 anon :0

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slashersteve · 1 year

Text

Dream Girl

pairing: Walter “Keys” Mckey/Female Reader

summary: Keys helps you pass a seemingly impossible boss battle in a video game you’ve been playing.

warnings/extra tags: cursing, a kiss kiss, probably ooc keys? I tried 😔, poor hacking things i got very vague but for this imagine just trust me bro, beta read, edited by me so if i missed anything pls ignore :')

note: Consider this my debut to writing Keys and who knows…maybe I’ll write more of him 👀 also yall this has been in my drafts for decades and today i was like?? it's bri's birthday, so i should post this right??? happy birthday @userdjo !! Thank you for reading and enjoy ♥️

✦ ✦ ✦

“I'm not doing it.”

"Why not?”

“Uh, because it's too risky?”

“Seriously? Too risky? Do you hear yourself right now?”

Keys was standing across from you, leaning on the kitchen counter holding a cup of coffee that he had only taken a single sip of seeing as the moment you heard the coffee maker come to life you stalked out of your own office to try to convince him to do what you wanted him to do all morning.

“Keys!” You were exasperated when he didn’t reply to your rhetorical question.

He just wanted to spend a bit of time during his break to look at something that wasn’t a screen of codes he could read like the morning paper. He wanted to talk to you in this kitchen like you always did throughout the day and unfortunately your conversations had to be this.

“We could get into a lot of trouble, I could get into a lot of trouble,” Keys told you firmly, to which you scoffed and crossed your arms, “I’m serious.”

“Only if you get caught, which I know you won’t,” you replied, before huffing and adding, “Where did this goody two shoes attitude come from? You literally took down an entire gaming company by causing trouble with Millie.”

Keys sighed, turning away from you as he set his mug down and brought one hand to his face to remove his glasses just so he could properly pinch his nose. That was different, and you knew it, but still wanted to try and guilt him into helping you.

“And you can’t do it yourself?” He asked, fully knowing that you couldn’t because you wouldn’t be asking him otherwise. If you could you wouldn’t be bugging him so much, pushing him to do what you wanted.

“I’d get caught, we both know it. Nobody can do it but you- Millie probably, but she’s not here,” you explained, “Come on, please? If you do it I’ll do every coffee run for the rest of the month.”

You were trying to bargain now, which amused Keys as he wiped the lens of his glasses before sliding them back over his eyes.

“Yeah me hacking into a game of another company is definitely worth you doing coffee runs,” he said sarcastically, resting his eyes back on you. You shrugged weakly and shot him a sort of sheepish smile, not caring that he was obviously irritated with you.

“I think it is- unless anything else is up for grabs? Anything you know…you would like?”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him, and he felt his chest tighten slightly, unsure exactly what you were getting at and suddenly being afraid that you did know. The sight of his expression had you smirking before you said, “She is my best friend- like yours- but girls mostly listen to each other…I could potentially lead her in your direction. You know…get that date you’ve always wanted lover boy.”

Keys blinked, understanding after a moment or two that you were talking about Millie and the hopeless crush he had on her, something he had confessed to you a while ago. Just that, nothing else…thank god.

“Don’t-“ Keys laughed awkwardly, “Don’t. I actually don’t like her like that anymore.”

You gave him a look, and he felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed by the mention of his old crush on her. Not because he was embarrassed of being in love with Millie once, but because he had thought you had known something else now, that had nothing to do with Millie but with the woman standing in this kitchen with him.

“Oh…when did that happen?” You questioned him, not believing a single word that just came out of his mouth. Truth be told, long before he confided in you his crush, you had been aware of it. How could you not be? It was the way he looked at her, brown eyes longing and yearning. He had it bad for her, for years, so it was hard to believe he’d moved on, that he’d fallen out of love.

“A while ago, actually, just sort of happened one day,” he replied awkwardly, eyes flashing to his watch. He had a few minutes left before he had to go back in there and start coding again. You both worked from home, made up your own hours and he liked to keep a more timely schedule than you did.

“Huh,” you said, still curious as to how that happened at all, but knowing he was going to be escaping back to his office/room was enough to make you set it aside and continue your prior conversation bargain.

“Anything else then? I’m really desperate here Keys, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if I wasn’t, you know this,” you continued, watching as he picked up his basically untouched coffee and pushed himself off the counter, ready to return to his coding.

“The coffee runs do sound nice, but like I said, not worth it,” he told you again, this time a bit more firmly and now it was you getting frustrated with him as you followed closely after him through the living room.

“Oh come on! I can do it for longer? The rest of the year- Keys!” You grabbed his arm, the one that wasn’t holding a coffee thankfully as it definitely might’ve spilled, “I’m begging you, do you want me to get down on my knees and beg to show you how serious I am?”

He cheeks suddenly became flushed as you started to descent to your knees and he had to catch you to keep you from doing that. The last thing he needed was to know how you looked when you’re on your knees in front of him. The last thing.

“No! You don’t have to-“ he said a bit too frantically. You stared at him, confused by his sudden behavior (even noticing his suddenly very pink cheeks and wide eyes underneath his glasses). Keys blinked rapidly for a moment, before he turned his head and cursed, “Alright alright, it may take a day or so- we need to make sure our schedules are clear- which means you gotta do work.”

He gave you a pointed look, knowing your tendency to move away from your work computer to what you called your fun gaming one whenever you felt like it.

“Oh yeah of course!” you replied like you did work all the time, “If that’s what it takes then hell yeah, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

You didn’t say it like a joke, which made him swallow thickly at your words and push down some thoughts he’d been having about you lately. Some romantic, some not so romantic and more in the carnal sense. Both equally terrified him and made him feel a sense of guilt.

It didn’t help that your favorite lounge at home outfit was a sports bra and biker shorts you usually paired with a zip-up hoodie that you never zipped up. It was mostly that pretty silver chain necklace you wore all the time and how it would fall underneath the fabric of your bra, making his eyes and thoughts wander to forbidden places.

Something he was doing right fucking now. It was almost like getting caught in a spell of some sort, which embarrassed him greatly.

You were too distracted by the fact that he technically agreed to helping you out to notice his eyes resting on your chest area, “I can’t believe you’re going to do this for me- okay- okay you get back to work and we’ll meet up tonight?”

You were giddy, almost bouncing in your spot and Keys suddenly snapped out of his trance caused by you, and he quickly forced his eyes to meet yours, realizing you’d just been speaking and that he wasn’t listening.

“Uh- yeah- yeah totally,” he told you in an attempt to not sound like a creep. You didn’t notice though, you didn’t notice a lot of things actually, and you merely flashed him an excited grin before you turned and jogged back into your own room, for the first time being excited to do some work and actually complete it.

Keys just stood there long after you had slammed your door shut, long after you probably sat at your computer and started replying to messages or reworking some mods like you were supposed to.

He felt like an idiot. A fool. Yet another hopeless fool who developed feelings for somebody he was close to, somebody in the same friend group.

He hadn’t intended for it to happen. It had always been Millie, not that anything was wrong with you of course, he just had some odd attachment to her because for a long time he considered her to be his dream girl, but after a long hard look at himself and their friendship he knew that’s all she would ever be.

And he was okay with that…eventually. Eventually his heart stopped fluttering in his chest when their eyes would meet, eventually his mind was no longer foggy and warm when they spoke. Eventually, he felt nothing but a platonic love that would always be there to stay.

With you, he wasn’t anticipating feelings like that to come up. It honestly came out of no where one day. Millie and Mouser had left, and you decided to stick around a little longer.

Keys wasn’t used to being alone with you, as at the time you were closer to Millie only and you two were like a package deal. So when you said you’d stay, Keys suggested you two play a game of your choice as an ice breaker. You chose this shooter game, 1v1, or on a team together online. That would be his choice and he decided to go with 1v1, not wanting to deal with teammates he didn’t know as he wasn’t up for a headache or trash talking from strangers or kids who aren’t being monitored by their parents and cursing like sailors.

He didn’t catch the wicked look in your eyes when he chose that one.

Keys learned very quickly how much you liked shooter games, even ones at the arcades. Your aim was impeccable and your sportsmanship was completely out of the window. You quipped back and forth like old friends, teasing him when he’d lose, cursing him when you lost, which wasn’t as often as Keys would’ve liked.

It was fun, very fun, and you ended up spending the entire night with him, playing your favorite games, and his favorite ones. Then, you just talked and got to know each other better.

Keys had liked you before that, and it was after that he started to like you more. And when you and him moved into together- things changed. They changed a lot.

He really liked you, but like with Millie, he was probably forever going to keep it to himself because how could you ever like him in return? He was your friend, and you knew he had been hopelessly in love with your best friend- he couldn’t see that working out. Not one bit, even if it broke his heart knowing that it wouldn’t.

Like Millie was, you were just another dream girl, and like her again, he eventually learn to be okay with that. It’s what was keeping him going, honestly, but he knew it would take longer as you were around him constantly. Eventually, he told himself as he took a sip of his now cold coffee, eventually.

✦ ✦ ✦

Keys had gone to bed the minute he finished up.

He washed his face, taken off his shirt and put on his pajama pants, took off his glasses, and laid spread on his bed under the covers on his stomach. One side of his face was nuzzled into his pillow, heavy eyes shutting on their own accord, mind ready to be overcome by well deserved sleep.

Just as he felt sleep wash over him, something had weighed down the mattress from his left side. Well, not something, more like somebody had.

He opened one eye to see you on his bed, and he quickly sat up, moving away from you as he asked what the heck you were doing in his bed like this. You were taken back by his reaction, but then raised a brow before saying, “We agreed to meet up tonight, remember?”

Keys just stared at you, blinking wildly as he tried to remember if that was true. You shifted in your spot, spreading your thighs a little more so you could actually sit on his bed. He let his eyes move down for only a split second, though his vision was blurry, before forcing them back up at you.

“I seriously don’t remember, just-“

“God relax,” you suddenly said, a smile starting to grow on your lips, “You’re so nervous by a girl being in your bed.”

You were teasing him again, and he coughed into his hand before he shook his head and said in an attempt to change the subject, “I told you it might take all day, we can’t start tonight we’ll be up for hours.”

You frowned now, “Then why’d you agree tonight? You said ‘yeah totally’ I remember.” You pointed at him, and Keys suddenly recalled that he did say that to you- he had just been distracted that he didn’t know what he was agreeing to.

He cursed under his breath, knowing that you weren’t going to go away at all, but thinking he should keep his word as well, especially when you titled your head and gave him what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. You even fluttered your lashes and stuck out your bottom lip.

“Fine, get everything set up-“

“Already done,” you replied, already moving to stand, and you gestured him to follow you as you took long strides out the door. Keys could only grab his glasses, forgoing a shirt, so he could keep up with you.

Everything was set up, the game, the laptop with the games codes there- he was sure you made sure IP addresses couldn’t be tracked as the last thing your guys new gaming company needed was a scandal that involved one of the key founding members hacking into a game made by a separate company. Why on earth did you want to do this? It was insanely risky.

You moved to sit on a stool you had brought in from the kitchen, leaving your vibrant teal gaming chair to Keys. He sat in it, eyes glossing over the game and he asked you for clarification what it was you wanted him to do exactly.

“I’m having trouble with the items- okay so every time you buy one the price goes up and it goes insanely high- insanely that it makes it impossible to buy more,” you explained, “So I need you to either keep the prices from going up, or to give me infinite items or coins. That one sounds great.”

Keys ran his hand through his hair and laughed at your request, and said teasingly, “You know you can just earn all those coins by being a better player.”

He felt your hand lightly smack his shoulder, “I’ve been on this for weeks, Keys, and I’m desperate. This boss is kicking my ass and I’d like an infinite amount of healing potions.”

Rather than going to the coding, he actually moved to the game instead, starting it up and waving you off when you asked him what he was doing.

“I just want to see which boss is kicking your ass so much that you want to cheat,” he told you, and you started to protest, knowing that this was one the games he actually introduced you to and would definitely tease you when he found out which one it was.

Keys promptly ignored you as he loaded up to your last mission, and as his eyes danced around the screen, taking in the familiar surroundings and music even, he started to laugh and shake his head- doing exactly what you were afraid of.

“Alright yeah laugh it up-“

“No, no I actually don’t blame you,” he said with another shake of his head before he pushed his hair out his face, “I think I stopped playing for a while because of this fight. Have you gotten asked to play easy mode yet?”

He was looking at you now, and you moaned in distress before nodding. Keys laughed, remembering how this particular boss battle had humbled him and other players who thought they were god at video games greatly. He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together and resting them over his chest.

“It’s a bad idea,” he told you again, this time more firmly, “Also I’m sorry- I’m not going to let you cheat. We’re beating this guy here and now.”

He was turning away from you to look back at the screen, and you groaned.

“Keys there’s no way- no fucking way we’re going to beat him- you said even you had trouble,” you tried, “Just let me go the cheating route.”

You grabbed the laptop, but Keys had taken it from you swiftly, shutting it and setting aside as you grumbled at him.

“No you’re going to beat this guy fair and square, we just need to replay missions, get every objective checked off…” he trailed off as he started moving the character away from the boss battle zone. You just sat beside him, dreading the idea of having to go back to do all that.

“Keys…” you moaned in complete despair, “That’ll take too long.”

“It won’t, I’ll help you,” he replied back, and dropped your head on his shoulder while he grinned, amused by your reluctance to replay any of this.

“Fine, fine, we’ll take turns,” you said, lifting your head up so you can look at the screen. Keys agreed to these terms.

A few hours had passed, you and Keys switching off who plays and who watches- and Keys was a much better player than you were at this particular game, getting through past battles you also had trouble with and barely passed with ease, slicing through the bosses like butter, and going on his merry way. You were almost embarrassed honestly whenever it was your turn, but he sat beside you on that stool, and just helped you.

Normally, whenever you played together or watched the other play a single player game (a sort of ritual you two had every other night when you were both available) you’d go hard on each other for every little mistake.

“Uh triangle is the top button Keys? Need to study the controls a little longer there big guy?”

“Haha- if you’re just going to be so critical the door's over there…”

All would end with a laugh and you leaning back on his bed as you continued to watch him, teasing him within the next few minutes.

Right now though, he’d still occasionally tease here and there, but it wasn’t condescending or serious enough to irritate you. You actually liked it, liked him sitting next to you, leaned in slightly so he was closer to you and the screen, telling you directly in your ear what to do, when to trigger your characters power, what weapons you should go with- you liked him being so close, and especially liked it when you did good and he praises you.

It really urged you to play well, wanting to hear those words again.

Then, you got to the boss you’ve been having so much trouble with you wanted to cheat your way into beating him. By now it was past midnight, closer to 1 in the morning, and you have both been at it for at least another hour or so- switching spots again and again as you did your best to fuck the boss up. He was the only one who got closest and you at least got farther than you normally would…more than half of his life had been down before you were taken out.

“Yup- I’m dead,” Keys said with a sigh. He leaned back, pressing the back of his head on the gaming chair and you grumbled, knowing you were next to try.

“Don’t even move,” you said in a gruff voice as you moved from the stool and sat onto his lap. Keys eyes widened when he felt you there, hands moving to grasp your hips almost instinctively but quickly dropping them as if it was a crime to hold you.

“What are you-“

“I’m going to die real quick, so you moving would be a waste,” you said, shifting slightly before you restarted the mission. Keys just say there staring at the back of your head, trying to fight the heat that was overcoming him.

You weren’t putting your weight fully down on him, your own feet touching the floor and holding yourself upright as you clicked away at the keyboard, too concentrated on the game to notice Keys having a slight panic attack underneath you or how tense suddenly became.

Curse words were slipping through your lips toward the game, and you shifted in your spot again, making him hold onto you once more, deciding to look over your shoulder now and focus on the game and not how you felt on his lap.

You were doing pretty well, actually, dodging with precision, getting well aimed hits on the boss. Your characters power bar was growing drastically, and when the bar was full you managed to trigger it at the perfect time.

“You know, for somebody’s who not even trying you’re doing pretty damn good,” Keys mumbled, leaning forward so his head was over your shoulder. Focusing on the game had been successful in distracting him from your current position.

You merely hummed in response, acknowledging his compliment, and the villain’s health bar was so low- it was in the red and Keys said, “Holy shit! You almost got him!”

He held his breath, and also you, as he watched you dodge some his quickest attacks that you struggled with before triggering your character's power again and putting the boss to sleep with one final blow and a final scream.

You just stared at the screen, in pure disbelief, and perhaps a dash of denial that you’d finally beaten this fucker who had been haunting you for weeks now, taunting you every time you looked at your computer screen. You did it, you beat him - or did you?

"Did...did I actually beat him? Or did I fall asleep watching you play and this is a fever dream? Please tell me this is fucking real-"

“It's real! You kicked his ass!” Keys was practically hugging you from behind and you threw your hands up and shouted with excitement, the smile on your lips wide as you really took in that you finally beat him.

"See! You didn't need to cheat," Keys told you from behind, making you laugh and move to stand, making Keys let you go as you did. He stood up too, and you were turned around to hug him tightly, which seemed to have taken him off guard.

Keys settled into your tight embrace, returning it by wrapping his arms tightly around you before you tilted your head up at him with a wide grin on your lips.

He looked down at you, “He wasn’t worth hacking into a game, right?”

"I mean if we cheated it wouldn't be almost...2 in the morning right now," you joked, making him laugh, his lips pulling into a sweet smile as his brown eyes held your gaze, "But...no you're right...totally not worth that."

He nodded, happy that you agreed with him.

"Thank you, Keys, I mean it...just thank you, I know it's just a video game but you know...this stuff is basically our life, so just...thanks," you told him truthfully.

Keys sucked in a tight breath before he nodded, "You're welcome, anything for you honestly...except you know...hacking into a beatable game."

He made you laugh, again, and because he was pretty sleepy right now with the adrenaline rushing off, he couldn't really hide the way he was looking at your lips.

There was little light in the room, with only your bedside lamp and the light emitting from your computer screen behind you. It reflected back at you slightly, courtesy of those cute glasses Keys wore, but you could see his eyes weren't on yours.

You honestly don't know what compelled you, the adrenaline that still coursed through your veins from the win, or maybe the fact that you were still holding each other like a separated couple reunited- you couldn't really pinpoint it, but you were starting to lean forward as if you were going to kiss him...well...you were going to kiss him.

Until he was leaning away, causing you snap out of it. Your eyes widened as they snapped upward to rest back on his. He looked so very confused and your felt your cheeks heat up immediately with embarrassment, feeling like an idiot that you just about almost stole a kiss from him without asking.

“What...what was that?” Keys asked you, attempting to keep his voice as steady as possible as he felt his heart start to race and his stomach between to twist and turn with nerves.

You were pulling away then, saying in an exasperated tone, “Nothing- sorry- I think I just got too caught up in the moment.”

You were trying to laugh it off, make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal what you were about to do and you stumbled backwards, wanting to shut the game off for the night and lay under your covers in your own embarrassment.

Keys just watched you, piecing together exactly what you were close to doing- how close you had leaned in, how your eyes had looked- were those what they call kiss me eyes?

His heart nearly swelled in his chest and he grasped your arm gently, making you turn to meet him with a curious expression and he asked, “Were you about to…kiss me?”

Your expression turned horrified.

“What? No,” you said, panic rising in your voice before you cleared your throat and continued to say, “I wasn’t- no- did it…did it look like it? Because I wasn’t...”

He blinked a few times, knowing that you were lying. He knows what he saw, and he knows you and your tells, the way you refused to keep eye contact, and would press your lips together as if conflicted. You were lying, and you were embarrassed. He didn’t like that you were.

"Well! Anyway! Thanks for helping me, I really appreciate it and uh- we should totally do this again. Well we probably will but-"

“No wait I wasn't finished," Keys said, making you pause and look up again to meet his gaze. He looked serious now, less shocked and more...determined. You didn't know what to say or do, just standing there and waiting for him to finish.

"Just..if you were trying to kiss me…I’d be totally okay with it,” he said, his voice a little softer. Your eyes widened softly at this statement.

"Really?" you asked, and he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before he nodded.

Things had suddenly grew tenser, the room quieter and darker, more intimate. You hadn't ever expected to be in a situation like this with Keys, sure you sometimes thought about Keys romantically, but you quickly stopped those because you had always known Keys was in love with Millie.

He was cute, he always had been, you had thought so since you first met him. He was funny...smart, the best video game partner, and roommate, coworker...friend, it always struck you as odd that Millie never saw him the same way he saw her.

And here he was, looking at you how he looked at her, except it felt like something even more and he was basically asking you to kiss him. And you wanted to, you wanted to so bad suddenly, but conflict raised in you because of the fact you thought it was always Millie he loved, wondering in these split seconds if he was suddenly into you because he couldn't have her.

He must've seen this, your hesitation, and he swallowed thickly before starting to speak, "I've actually...liked you for a long time now, you asked me when I lost feelings for Millie and...I think- now I know...it was when I met you because...yeah...it's you."

He trailed off awkwardly, and you watched as his cheeks dusted pink and his eyes shifted away from you. You couldn't really believe what he had just said, but when he finally got the courage back to look at you...you knew he was telling you the truth.

And you were leaning in, tilting your head upwards so that you could press your lips gently against his. You practically felt his breath get taken away as your lips touched his, just before he returned your gentle, almost shy kiss.

You both leaned away at the same time, your heart pounding in your chest and your eyes fluttering open as your eyes met. A small smile had returned to his lips, and suddenly you felt his hand in your hair as he grew more confident and you both leaned in to kiss a second time, this time the kiss was longer, your lips melding together tenderly as you titled your head to deepen it.

Then, things went further...because of you mostly. Your hands planted against his bare chest as you made him walk backwards, your lips never leaving each others and he was on your bed with you settling into his lap, straddling him.

Keys looked up at you through his lashes, his hands placed onto your waist, in almost the same way they were placed moments before when you on his lap playing and defeating the boss. His body felt so warm against yours, and you were sure your body was just as warm against his.

You moved your own hands to his hair, and said, "Do you want to keep playing, Keys? Or do you wanna keep doing this?"

He seemed taken back by your suggestion, but laughed breathlessly as he said, "Yeah...yeah let's keep doing this."

#ngl this was inspired by the feeling i got when i couldn't beat the first boss in devil may cry #didn't have a cute boy to beat it for me #just my sister LMAO #keys x reader #walter keys mckey x reader #keys imagine #walter keys mckey imagine #walter keys mckey #free guy #free guy imagine #joe keery

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viburnt · 3 months

Note

Could I request demon!Izuku headcanons? Remember that AU we talked about. Pls and thank you ❤️

Demon! Izuku

No horny... yet. Enjoy!

• Demon! Izuku is an outcast, pushed away by the rest of his kind along with all the others that are deemed unworthy. He doesn't have the power or strength, nor the value or the level of an elite demon. In fact, his body is different from the rest! While others have powerful wings, horns, or tails, Izuku is... incomplete to put it some way. Two small sharp horns protrude from his head, a little twisted and chipped; only one wing on his back, and a small tail with a sharp end. Demon! Izuku is not scary compared to the rest, and he feels sad because, well- Who would summon a demon like him?

• This particular demon has some weak powers, but that's only until you summon him. Before he made a pact with you, he could only perform the bare minimum but it is by your side that he discovers that his powers were only dormant. I'd say Demon! Izuku would specialize in metamorphosis and transformation magic, since he goes through changes to become better.

• He is super overwhelmed and confused when you summon him because all his life he thought no one would ever do it. In addition, your world is different to his world, and he has to adapt to you to be of help. Demon! Izuku is afraid of disappointing you or upsetting you, so go easy on him.

• As a demon, he requires special things to feed on. Human souls are a no for him because most of his time he feels bad for them, so he goes for less nutritious things like life energy from plants. If you offer him a small animal and encourage him enough, he'll take it though. Demon! Izuku is also a fan of human food but it doesn't nourish him the same way.

• After he manages to develop his full potential, he gains the attention of other witches and magical creatures. Some envy him, others want him, but he'll always stick to your side because you're the one who gave him a chance to prove himself.

• He is very fond of the lifestyle you have, but it takes him a while to learn how your world works. Oh, Demon! Izuku also likes to share some gossip with you about other demons but he'll get embarrassed if someone points it out. (Demon! Bakugo does too, but that's another story)

• Curls his tail around your leg when he is scared. You actually had to learn how to take care of your demon because uh, demons don't really bath? Nor, groom... Nor anything. A lot of the time they are just too focused on being powerful.

• Did I mention he can actually breed with humans? Not a lot of demons can.

"Y-you're the witch that summoned me?" The timid voice coming from your Demon asks, his glowing emerald eyes looking at you with both amazement and fear. He is dumbfounded, astonished even; such a powerful sorcerer was requesting him? You smile and cover his naked body with a robe, shielding him from the many eyes of people. "I did," you answer with kindness.

"But why?" Izuku asks feeling his body move along with you.

"Because you and I have plans... That is, of course, if you accept me."

Tags: @shionancientsblog @trickster-kat @shonen-brainrot @doumadono

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #Demon! Izuku #MHA Witch familiar/demon! AU

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kvnimago · 1 year

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader (18+ oneshot)

— some things are (better) left unknown

word count: 4k+

⚠️: 18+, angry-fucking, GRAPHIC depictions and descriptions of smut, slut shaming, degrading, "good girl" shit, profanity, petnames kinda, they-think-they -hate-eachother-but-will-absolutely-submit, cant-really-think-of-anything-else-just-prepare-yourself-pls

(reblogs are highly appreciated! i'm a new acc)

—

For what felt like hours, days, even. You felt eyes boring their presence upon you. Like a laserbeam going through your thick skull. And it was of no use trying to see who it was, because there'd only be one person to do that.

Your hands reach for the cold steel spoon, engraved on it was 'Task Force 141'. You felt your fingers brush over the letters as you picked it up and held it to your mouth, the hot soup going through your lips and into your stomach.

It'd been a long day, when the winter was out to kill, and when the warm fires were less orange than any other December when you lit it up.

Although, the light on your cigarette appeared much brighter than any chimney to you today. You couldn't tell, at this point, if you were actually full from the meal or the Cuban you held in between your index and middle finger.

You got up slowly from your chair, which was rocking back and forth whenever you sat down or got up. You could smell another familiar scent of smoke coming from the other seat beside you, though it wasn't something very significant as of this moment.

Captain Price approached you as you looked away from your seat, checking if there was any spots of food you left behind, "Hey, kid."

"Yes, Capt?"

Price pulled out a letter from his pocket, the material of his gun rustling against his belt from his pants. "Think you can grab these from the basement for me? I need it by tomorrow."

You reluctantly take the letter, it contained some vehicle tools, ammunition supply, uniform badges, you name it. Just regular stuff, not anything too difficult. But you were neither prepared, nor did you see it coming, when he said the next thing:

"I'll have Lt. Riley tag along. That alright with you, Simon?" He said, fully aware of the fact that Ghost couldn't ever say no. He was the Captain, after all. And it was.. apart of his job to follow his orders.

Price nods approvingly without even waiting for your answer, nor Ghost's, "Good. It's in the basement. The dark room without any lights, so just bring one." He looks at his watch, 8:27.

"You should be back at 5 in the morning, clear?" he emphasized, he was always one to take the job very seriously.

As he walked away, you felt that peering stare from earlier return. All you could do was feel the wrinkles on the paper, which smelled like conditioned air.

You didn't dare turn around, you stood there, hands behind your back. Like an idiot, honestly. That's what Ghost would say.

The sound of a metal seat's legs rubbing against the tiles entered your ears. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous as hell bein' around him.

"Come." said Ghost, "Stop wasting your time." he added.

You shut your eyes tightly and reopened them for a quick second and turned around, met by his terrifying thousand-yard stare which was surprisingly all natural. You have a guess that it's because of the mask that you notice it ever so often.

"You're still mad at me."

Ghost placed his utensils on the tray which sat on the table, tilted. "And?" he asked you.

"You wouldn't want to go in the basements alone. You'd piss yourself." his mask moved as he spoke, and you could've sworn that you heard a light laugh coming from his nose. You were afraid that he wouldn't cooperate due to the fact that you both had a slight mishap the other day, but to your relief, he's.. seemingly alright about it.

He mannered for you to come along, so you did. You were following him, hands behind your back, you got a great view of how he wore his gear, how messy some other parts were, and how he kept some specific adjustments to his uniform. For example, he has to not button the first 2 buttons on his shirt. He just covers it up with his tactical vest, because his waist is smaller than his upper body.

You smile to yourself, though it only appeared internally. After all, you're still mad at him.

"Still pissed, Sergeant?" his bone-chilling tone entered the atmosphere. Why, it was cold and stern. Had no gentleness or anything of the sort behind it.

You paused and stopped in your tracks, followed by a small grunt that escaped your mouth as you spoke: "Don't know." your response was a bit.. blunt. Not mixed with anger, or a sense of 'I don't care'. You just simply uttered the two words.

He turned to you, also stopping in his way. You could feel lava in your ears boiling at it's own temperature when he was now heading your way, the distance was closed from a meter apart, now at a foot apart from eachother.

"That is fuckin' idiotic, woman." every word he said felt like a dull blade being pressed against your chest. Over and over.

You glared, irritated by the comment. Woman? "Thank you, Simon." you retorted, it took about a thousand horsepower to bring yourself not to sound so affected, the annoyance evident in your eyes as you brought yourself to look at him in the eyes again.

"Fuck did you just say?" he doesn't like being called by the first name. Not at all. Especially when it's you, your words are like scratching at plates to him. Even the thought alone of you makes his head hurt.

You smiled a little, fuck, I think I've really gotten into his skin. "I don't know, Simon. Would you please get out of the fucking way and go to the basement now?"

It'd be very strange if you hadn't spotted his fists clenching a bit. He had a.. short temper, that's for sure. But never have you seen him let it out, which was another factor that removed your fear around him. Well, besides the death stare.

He didn't look at you again. For the next 5 minutes you both spent together trying to walk across the base to get there.

The room was dim. Only about 4 lights which were scattered all over the basement, and it wasn't much, because the basement was fucking huge.

"A pistol for the Captain and ammunition supply. Find it." Ghost demanded. Like he was the one in charge.

You dug in your pockets, the sound of multiple things clanging against eachother, no luck.

"Did you bring a flashlight?" you questioned, you didn't have one on you.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you, Sergeant." he stared at you, getting back up from what he was doing.

You backed up just a few inches off your foot, "Jesus. Fine. I can manage."

Ghost seemed satisfied with your reply, because you could see him turning around again through the dim lights.

You absolutely lied. It was impossible to see in the near-dark. Only the small shine of metal was a hint to what you were trying to find.

You went further into the dark, no signs of what you were trying to find, based on your sense of touch.

Boxes could be heard being carried and put on the small side-tables. To add, the ring of alloy was very apparent especially when there was nothing else that could be in your ears.

"You found anything?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

"No."

"Me neither."

You sighed, it should be around 8:50 now.

Ghost couldn't stare at you or penetrate at your soul with his glare, no, not through the dark. It removed an essence of control as he knew.

"I'm not mad, Lieutenant." You told him, desperately trying to fight the silence.

"Shut up and find the things we need."

A solid ten minutes passed before you found a pistol, contemplating on whether or not you should go back the minutes-long walk to your quarters to get a flashlight, because time was running slow.

Ghost heard the gun being cocked, moving over to your spot. "I haven't found anything."

"So? What does that make me?" you replied, his jaw clenched when he realized you were mocking his previous reply to you.

"An idiot. Because your arse forgot the light."

He came closer to you, although it sounded like he was far away. You couldn't ignore his comment, "You took your mask off, right? Now I really should've brought a flashlight, so I can see that ugly fuckin' face of yours."

You felt a cold shudder go through your spine when footsteps came louder.

"That would've been a hell of a sight to see, because I'd say I'm not ugly." he spoke in a deep, sultry voice.

"A good hell doesn't exist." you replied.

"Bullshit." he breathed out, jamming boxes on the floor again, "You can be mad for all I care, because I don't."

You could feel his black stained eyes once more, although not visible, it was all the more apparent when you heard his footsteps getting closer behind you.

"That's a shitty response, boo, Simon."

"You're shitty."

"Fuck you."

Veins popped on his forehead, his balaclava sweaty from the lack of ventilation inside the basement,

"Be mad at me all you want, yeah? Not my fault some dumbass fuck is on my squad."

Now was not the time to be discussing about your personal endeavours, it was a time to follow Price's orders, not to waste the precious hours.

Silence devoured the void that kept his distance from you. Simon never really liked you, favored you, or even talked to you that much, you think you really fucked up and outdid yourself the moment you messed around during a mission and let an enemy loose.

He always looked away from you.

Johnny would say he'd go silent whenever you were mentioned or whenever you were around, for some reason that even he didn't know.

And you thought that maybe, just maybe, this would've resolved your issues with eachother.

Wrong. He's still the fuckin' asshole he is, always shoving it in your face that you're incorrect, telling you how to do this and that. You'd stare deep into his dark and sullen eyes, when the nights were just right that he would be angry-fucking you right before or after a mission. Nonetheless, it didn't change his view about you.

Simon couldn't see anything, yet, he wanted to go over to your spot. You gasped when you felt a clothed hand on your butt, breaking the trance of thoughts you were in. You heard a small grunt with it, too.

You could barely see anything, but who else was there except for Ghost?

"Simon. Get your fucking hands off my ass." you commanded, grabbing his hand and pushing it away from you.

Ghost emitted a groan, surprised by the sudden movement.

"What hands?" his accent was thicker than the dark, a shudder entering your spine again when his breath hits your neck from afar. "That is not my hand, sweetheart."

The knots in your stomach tightened. He grunted again, and you felt the warmth of his breath tilt to the side, "Sergeant. Get your goddamn hands off my pants." he spoke slowly and firmly at every word.

"Don't need to fuckin' grab it like that—just ask nicely." he sighed at that last part, dark and threatening was his tone, though his eyes had seemed to tell a different story, which again, wasn't visible to your sight.

His words left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, your body warm from the burning tension. And also from the anger that flushed in the tips of your ears, you didn't know of a single bit where this was going, yet you let it happen.

You could feel the strong presence of a stiff vest on your back, your legs rubbed against his muscular thighs. The low ponytail on your head was coming loose,

"You know what?"

"Yes?" your response sounded more like a breathy noise than a word, the heat emerging from inside you. There was nothing to be denied, no matter how upset, disappointed, or irritated you were.. you'd always come back for him.

"You're a fucking slut, that is—Your anger towards me is no match for that filthy cunt of yours."

You whined, involuntarily, every breath he took shattered itself on your neck, "God. I fucking hate you."

"Really? Those hands and that pussy of yours say otherwise. Every fuckin' time."

A soft grunt escaped your lips, and this was only from his words.. How? It was indescribable, what you felt. The rim of your cargo pants were tugged by gloved hands, you sighed lightly,

"Turn around."

You followed his orders like a lost puppy in search for its owner, his sentences were like hymns to your ears, frankly, hypnotizing you and leaving all common sense behind.

Ghost lifted his skull mask and took it off, setting it aside on the makeshift table that had been sitting in the basement for a long time. He'd also taken his balaclava off, his cold lips exposed to the air, a huge part of you wanted to see whatever glorious sight was behind the dark.

Your soft fingers traced and tried to visualize what you were feeling. He had long eyelashes, a pointed nose, and a sharp jaw. It made you all the more eager, that's for sure.

A startled gasp left you as his forearms brushed against your hands, lifting you up and using his leg to support you like a seat, he had his chest pressed against you, your back pressed against the wall. You could feel his eyes on you, your mouth hung slightly open to support your heavy breathing.

You lowered your hand to be placed under his thigh, his expression wistful, hot breath trickling down your neck.

You can recognize his chest moving up and down slightly, breathing in and out, and it makes your inside tingle and your heart race. The smell of clean clothes and cologne filled the room.

Then there's more silence. Like a weird and unnerving silence, like the world had stopped spinning for the two of you.

"Simon?" you inhale the small essence of his cologne, the scent brushing and bouncing against your nostrils.

"What about me, Sergeant?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper, while he gently touches your chin with a finger. He tilts your head, turning you to face his eyes through the dimly lit room.

And then, finally, the silence is broken by the hungry breath that escapes his lips, he kisses you passionately, his grip on your hand tightens as he slowly but surely pulls you towards him. He wraps his arm around your waist as he holds you close to him, his cheek pressed against yours. His lips are rough, starving. Like this moment was supposed to happen, and it did. In the back of his mind.

The warmth of his hand seeps through the outer of his glove, before he pulls away from the kiss and bites on the corner of his glove so he can take it off.

His mind is fuzzy, "Do you even have panties on?"

"No, Lieutenant." you words dragged like a sigh.

You could hear him chuckling lowly, "I figured, since you're such a little slut."

Your mind was cloudy, it was agonizingly taking so long. You couldn't take it anymore, you tightened your grip on his pants, he groaned, muffling his moan with his hand that still had a glove on.

"Mmh— fuck. Can't take it anymore, Sergeant?"

You nodded instantly, his hand felt the rush of your nod as it was still on your chin.

"Words. I want words."

"Please, Simon. What do you want?" you hurried to reply, your mind in shambles.

"Me? What do I want?"

He teased you, the lump in your throat larger. The warmth in your belly forming a larger pool for you to endure.

"I don't fucking know—Just tell me!" you craved at the thought of him commanding you, asking you to do what he wanted, the thought of him whining and moaning as he asks you to go faster on him, pumping him dry 'til the walls are white.

Ghost huffed in pleasure, "Gotta finish what you started on me, no?"

He lets go of you, using only his thigh and leg to support you for the time being. He coaxed his chin up, unbuckling his belt. You tried to hold yourself up with your own arms, but the myriad of lust, pleasure and somewhat— anger and annoyance trailed along your brain.

It took all of his strength not to let his head fall back, he felt the cold air touch his shaft, he shivers, your other hand travelling by itself from his thigh to the head of his cock.

He absolutely dissolves in your touch—getting off to your soft hands instead of his big, calloused hands that assist him almost every other night that you pop up in his mind.

His hands slipped up your shirt, feeling your back. The sudden touch making you squirm and arch your back, pressing yourself even further against him.

"Mmpfh— wish I could—" he cuts himself off with a groan, "—wish I could fucking see that pretty fucking face right now."

You gasped, his hand even further up your clothing, causing you to grow your hand's pace on his cock, he moaned lowly, "You ever get off to the thought of my cock in your hands?" he was eager for a reply, probably, to validate his own thoughts about you,

Your breathy sentence responds to him, "Yes."

He chuckles, seemingly content with your answer, he can't stand the silence anymore, apart from the slow slopping of your hands that barely manage to wrap themselves over his thick cock. He crashes onto your lips again, your noses touching, he opens his mouth lightly, inviting your tongue to go down on him.

When you enter his mouth, it's full of a flavor indescribable to man, your hand pounced on him, touching his stomach with every stroke, his bleary eyes rolled back, parting away from the kiss to release a moan.

"You sure no one can hear us down here?" you asked in between the crazy shit you guys were already doing, audible from outside or not, there was no taking back what was happening in this moment. You were fully aware.

"Never said so," he huffed, "fuck, fuck—go faster—mmh—"

The pleasure he was feeling was indescribable, though you could say it was a bit selfish of him to cum first, you'd think he deserved it, and—not to lie, you were getting off of this, too.

He let out a low groan as your pace quickened, beads of sweat smudging on his black stained eyes, he thrusted himself in and out of the "O" shape your hands had formed, though his cock was too thick that the "O" would form into a "C" every time he went through it. He shuddered, feeling his climax getting nearer and nearer,

"Fuck—I'm so fucking close—don't you dare stop—" he let out a breathy and low pitched moan every time, each pound of your hands on him getting wetter and wetter.

You grinned like the cheshire cat, your eyes low and heavy as you wait for him to reach his high, your balance on his thigh getting weaker as he shudders, his hands placed roughly on the sides of your hips, rocking you back and forth to force your hands further down his length.

You moved faster and faster, moving frantically at him, he lowered his head and mumbled into your hair, "Fuck, mmph—Jesus..—I'm gonna fucking cum." every word he pressed onto your head vibrated throughout your skull, his low and growly voice rang through your ears, his moans were melodious to you.

Your breathing was heavy, as he rode out the last of his climax on you, his thighs squeezed against your leg, shaking as he releases all the pent up anger he previously had on you.

He sighed loudly, drops of milky white fluid dripping over his cock, he picked it up from the slit of his dick, an airy whine leaving his lips.

The cloud in his mind was getting clearer bit by bit, although, the pleasure would never escape his mind, not ever.

He entered his coated fingers into your mouth, laced with his own cum, the saltiness lingered in your mouth, before he rammed his digits farther down your throat, causing you to whine and gag, he stabilized his breath for a minute or more.. but you couldn't tell how long it took, your mind was in a haze.

"Fuck, your turn." he cooed as his fingers slid out of your mouth, making you gasp for air in delight. He swiftly unbuttons your pants, sliding them down in a fast motion and throwing them to the ground, "You can worry about finding your clothes later."

He started by lifting your thigh up, gripping it like there was no tomorrow, "Leg. On my shoulder. Now." he commanded, sliding your panties off your legs as you willingly let his cock get a better view of your now unclothed cunt.

"I can't fucking—oh God!—" your sentence was cut abruptly by the thick and wet head of his cock entering the gateway of your soaked pussy, it wasn't fully in, yet you were beginning to go crazy. He moaned, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth, muffling the loud noise to prevent it from bouncing against the basement walls, "You fucking—" his moan reached his mouth faster than his words, "Shit—your pussy is so fucking tight!" he cursed.

Your lower body was completely naked, your head tilted enough just for you to be able to breathe properly, a sharp sensation enters you as he goes further down in your pussy, his huge size making it difficult for him to enter fully, "Sorry, sweetheart." he apologized, a grin evident in his tone.

You can feel his hands travel from your waist to your ass, cupping them for support so you don't fall and make him slip out of you.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he slips fully into you, causing to to babble and cry words that were pure gibberish, the sounds of him pounding against you harmonizing with your moans, "Oh my—fuck!—" every thrust he lets out on you sends a jolt of electricity up to your spine, you bring your hand to grab a fistful of his hair, making him push against you even more.

"Feels better than your hands." he breathily shakes, he goes in and out of you, grinding against you as you continue to lose yourself, your pussy sucked and groped his cock in.

You swallowed hard as your ass was clenched by his rough hands, low grunts escaping his mouth as you let out sweet little cries of pleasure, "Fuck!—Simon—That's it—Mmmfh!—" your tender voice was like a song composed and played out just for him. His ego growing bigger and bigger with every moan that escapes your lips.

You heave, struggling to breath. His movements grew frantic and impatient, your walls contracting on him, he enjoyed every single bit.

"Greedy fucking pussy." he commented, savoring every moment you were inside and outside of him, your sensitive cluster of nerves waiting for their release any time soon, he leaned further on you, forcing his breath to trail along your neck. You cried, nothing on your mind but pleasure.

Your blood roared in your ears, buzzing with every second you were thrusted on, both you and Ghost drowning in pleasure. You bit back a moan, trying not to erupt the whole world, the center of pleasure circulating all around you.

Your moans start getting louder as Simon starts to quicken up his pace, recognizing your incoming orgasm bundling up around the sensation of ravaging pleasure in him.

Your mind went into a cloud, accompanied by the sloppy noises that came along, you felt your whole soul go into an extraterrestrial world—another dimension, you cried and mumbled his name all over, soaking you all over him.

He pounded into you one last time, before you came within him, your fluids melting in themselves, he let out a breathy and hitched moan and pulled his cock out of you, pumping the last bits of his semen out of the head of his dick and slurring his words, taking his time to put a finger around your cunt and swirling it around gently, taking it up to his mouth and sucking on his own fingers, tasting all off your precious juices and humming to himself, "Pretty girl.. best thing I've ever fucking had."

Simon felt content with what happened between the two of you that night in the basement, and although he never dared speaking about it again.. But he wishes it would happen just one more time. Maybe, even two.

#simon ghost riley #cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #smut #simon riley smut #oneshot #call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #simon ghost x reader

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valsarchives · 1 year

Note

can we get part 2 of as it was :) please and thanks

a/n: you’re welcome!

face claim: lily-rose depp

Part 1 here | Part 3 here

as it was - t.c (part 2)

yourusername

liked by badgalriri, tayrussell, austinbutler and 12,473,946 others

yourusername check out @silverheartsnetflix

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netflix I was NOT ready for this 🙌🏻

yourusername 🫣

zendaya gosh you’re hot ❤️‍🔥

yourusername making me blush

instagram so can we say the queen is back?

ynmybaby YES WE CAN 🔥

yourfan17 Even Instagram knows

silverheartsnetflix boss babe 💋

ester_exposito god i missed you

t22felton That was masterpiece

theweeknd my stargirl

ynsbabygirl not the whole hollywood gossiping my girl Y/N 💘✨

timmytimmy finally some good comments

yourfan9 wait what did i miss?

tchalafan well, almost a year ago, Timothée and Y/N were dating but his fans shipped him with Taylor Russell and they said awful things about her. She got so many hateful comments so they broke up. And then Timothèe said he was taking a break from social media and he is now probably at London for filming but he wasn’t active since then.

yourfan9 oh wow I missed too damn thing

henrycavill It was a pleasure working with you

*liked by yourusername

timotheefan78 I’m so excited for thissss

yourfan49 wait weren’t you one of the haters that said awful things to her? What the hell are you doing here?

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netflix

liked by honeymoon, hero_ft, tchalamet and 14,483,274 others

netflix Our Marilyn (yourusername) is serving looks everyone 👀

Silver Hearts is now streaming only on Netflix!

tagged: yourusername, silverhearstnetflix

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yourusername 🤓🤓

netflix we know what you’re doing girl

hero_ft LET’S GOOOO

selenagomez my queen

harrystyles missed this smile

appletvplus when she smiles, we smile

yourfan385 Apple TV commenting on Netflix’s post??? Damn Y/N you have power

timotea0 TIMMY LIKED I REPEAT TIMMY LIKED

ynmybaby THAT’S MY GIRLLLL 🙌🏻

chalametfan7 wait Timothèe liked?!?!?!?!

ynsbabygirl Timothée we got you boy

timotheefan583 PLS GET BACK TOGETHER

yourfan34 she looks amazing 😻

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yndaily

2,583,253 likes

yndaily Y/N talks to voguemagazine about her new film, her life and how she dealt with the hate she was getting.

“I was afraid to going out alone. I got so many threat messages. I couldn’t even think straight I was so upset. I didn’t know what to do. How can someone hate you because you are with your boyfriend? That doesn’t makes sense. Even my mom and dad got threat messages and they were so worried about me. That was when I knew I had to end this. It was hard, but it has to be done. For my safety and mental health.”

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ynmybaby when they asked if she wants to get back with him and she smiled sadly 😭😭😭😭

timmytimmy they still love each other 🥺

yourfan9 she also said she was seeing a therapist and i was so glad she was getting better

ynsbabygirl my angel girl, they treated her so badly and she is still smiling. That’s my girl 🤧♥️

yourfan285 i bet timmy watched this

username59374 when she said timmy’s mom called her and they cried together my heart broke 😭

tchalafan god please let Y/n and Timothée be happy together 🙏🏻

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ynandtimotheeupdates

5,274,163 likes

ynandtimotheeupdates GUYSSS Y/N AND TIMOTHÉE SPOTTED IN LA TOGETHER 😭

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tayrussell god FINALLY

yourfan584 girl what are you doing here 😭

tchalafan THIS IS THE MOMENT WE WAITED FOR 🙌🏻

ynmybaby I swear if i see any hate comment i’m gonna smash their head to the floor

ynsbabygirl WE ALL WILL 🤺🤺🤺

timotheefan12 he missed her so much 🥺

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enews

9,374,583 likes

enews We are so glad to inform you that our couple is back together!

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timmytimmy SO GLAD TO SEE HIM SMILE AGAIN

yourfan385 YESSSSSSS

ynmybaby don’t let them break your girl’s heart again timmy

tchalamet never.

ynmybaby ANDHAJDHJSDJD WHAAAATTT 😭😭

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tchalamet

liked by benjamin_wadsworth, dovecameron, kidcudi and 15,384,164 others

tchalamet so proud to call you mine again

tagged: yourusername

yourusername i love you more than you know

tchalamet you have my heart

florencepugh cutie pies

jimmyfallon my favorite couple

ynmybaby pls invite them to your show jimmy!!!!

jimmyfallon 👀

ynsfan363 OMG

ynsbabygirl this blessed my day

zayn glad to see you two again

*liked by tchalamet

instagram we knew this day would come

kissmeyn i wonder how they got back together

yourusername he texted after the interview and said he needs to talk and well… here we are 👀

*liked by tchalamet

kissmeyn AHHH MY HEART 😭😭😭😭

timotheefan2848 I knew you two couldn’t resist each other anymore

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tayrussell’s story

#timothee chamalet #x reader #instagram au #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chamalet #celebrity reader #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee x you #timothee chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee fluff

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Note

‘putting their foreheads together and just being content with each other's presence’ + alpha-17 pls

i’m manifesting everything soft & loving for this man yes i am

Content

Summary: You welcome Alpha home after he's been away.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader

Word Count: 753

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I love soft Alpha, so I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy it!

You haven’t seen Alpha-17 in three weeks. He’s not even on Kamino at that moment.

And that’s…that’s fine. It is. You’re not worried at all, because he’s Alpha, and you’re pretty sure Death himself is afraid of him.

But still…three weeks without so much as a message from him. You’re starting to become a little concerned. Not worried. Alpha would tease you mercilessly if the word worried ever escaped your lips in conjunction with his name, but he might tease you less about being concerned.

Maybe. Or maybe he’ll still tease you mercilessly about being concerned about it.

He is something of an asshole, after all.

You sigh softly and stretch out on your bed, you allow your eyes to drift shut to the sound of the rain beating against the window. And while you normally find the sound soothing, today you just don’t want to be soothed. You want Alpha. You want him to pull you into a hug and a kiss and to hear him tease you about something silly and unimportant.

You relax into your mattress, “are you really laying in bed in your day clothes, cyar’ika?”

You yelp and fling your pillow across the room, where is hit’s Alpha-17 in the chest, and then flops to the floor uselessly, “Alpha?” You ask, your hands pressed over your heart.

“I’m gone for three weeks, and all I get is a pillow thrown at me. I’m hurt.”

“You-” You scramble to your feet, “You scared me half to death!”

“You should pay more attention, what if I had been someone else?” Alpha asks.

You stare at him, and then you grin, “Doesn’t matter! You’re back!” You fling yourself at him, forcing him to drop his bag to catch you. And you immediately press your face against his neck, “Welcome home.”

He folds his arms tightly around you and presses his face into your neck as well, and you feel him inhale deeply, “Did you miss me?”

“Mm…only a little.” You lie badly as you trail your fingers through his short hair, “Are you sniffing me?”

“You smell good.”

“I got new body wash,” You explain, “Do you like it?”

“Mm. I do.” He pulls back and presses a chaste kiss against your lips, “Alright, down you get, cyar’ika. I need to shower and then we can cuddle properly.”

You pout at him, even as he helps stabilize you on your feet.

“Don’t look at me like that, cyar’ika.” Alpha smoothes his hand over your head, “I’m exhausted, little love.”

He looks it too, so you reach up and lightly smooth your fingers against his cheek, “Would you like me to warm you up something to eat?”

Alpha sighs softly, “You don’t have to, mesh’la.”

“It’s fine. I made myself stew earlier today, I’ll warm you up a bowl.” You stand on your toes and kiss his jaw, “Go shower, food will be waiting when you’re done.”

He steps into the fresher, and you turn to busy yourself with warming up his food. You know Alpha, he won’t be long.

And true to your prediction, Alpha steps out of the fresher only 10 minutes later, somehow looking even more exhausted while dressed in the lounge pants he prefers when he’s with you.

“Food is almost done, love.” You say to him warmly, “I wanted to do it properly, so I’m making some bread for you.”

“You didn’t have to go through that much trouble, princess.” Alpha murmurs as he sits at the table.

“It’s no trouble at all.” You cross over to him and Alpha immediately pulls you onto his lap, and you promptly press your forehead against his, “Once you eat, we can curl up in bed and you can get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

“That sounds nice,” Alpha rumbles in turn as his eyes close, and you smile. It’s rare when you have the time to just exist in the same place together. Alpha prefers to be touching you when you have free time, but this, just being together, is perfection in your eyes.

You lightly smooth your thumb across his jaw, and he sighs in contentment.

“Tomorrow, when I’m rested, I’ll give you the greeting you deserved, princess.” Alpha promises.

“This is just fine, Alpha.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh, “I want to, princess.”

“Well, I certainly won’t say no,” You tease lightly. And then you duck your head and brush your lips against his in the most gentle of kisses, “Welcome home, love.”

#star wars #tcw #alpha 17 x reader #alpha x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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weedsmokingbf · 6 months

Text

I need some help with necessities and doctor bills 😖

[ pls don't tag this post in a way that tumblr will nuke me for lol ]

Hey. I really hate to make this post where I feel like I'm writing a sob story but it's gotten to a point where people around are telling me I need to ask for help bc I'm struggling so much. Anyways, financially my family and I are not doing well... For context: I've been out of work for 2 months due to a workplace injury + workers comp will only pay for appointments regarding my right knee, where the place of injury took place. Therein lies the problem now, though... After getting my X-rays and MRI results my knee was fine, other than fluid in the spot of injury, yet I was still having leg numbness and symptoms for a bit (tmi but it's also become hard to tell when I need to go to the bathroom now too). My doctor told me my issue lies in my spine and the impact could've also affected that... I already have indications of osteoarthritis, bone spurs, as well as constant back pain I struggle with daily. My knee doesn't hurt like it was, but the bigger issue is my back now and worker's comp won't pay for that. I'm in physical therapy for my knee but not my back right now (paid for by wc). Currently, I am living with my mom after a nasty divorce where she had to pay out a shit ton of money (we've had to cut off my dad bc he's abusive and we are both mentally recovering from it. I deal w a lot of PTSD flashbacks and dissociative issues because of all this.) and she's struggling as well as I and we want to move when feasibly possible. I've been relying on her and my girlfriend if I need money for food and "mary wanna" to curb the pain I've been. My girlfriend also lives at home in an abusive situation that she's trying to move out of and is also struggling. I cannot keep relying on these people comfortably yet I'm in an extreme amount of pain where I cannot return to my cashier job where my shifts are usually 7-8 hours long. I'm going to try and open commissions soon after finishing more examples and compiling a good way to show off my different art styles. I plan on doing "Name Your Price" comms with a $5 minimum since my situation is starting to get dire. I'll add that onto the post and make another one soon but for now I'm gonna drop my accounts if you're comfortably able to help me out. My funds are gonna go towards necessities and any doctors appointments my mom's insurance won't cover. I still need to make an appointment for my spine and plan on it soon but financially I am afraid to. Thank you for reading if you've gotten this far! Hope you have a good rest of your day! ❤️

cã$hãpp: $solarsys

v3nm0: @/putridpeaches

p@yp@l: @/putridpeaches

ignore my birth name idk her 😁

#speaks #idk what 2 tag this as #im gonna close the app after i post this bc im anxious tbh but if ur interested in comms dm me

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onedaughterofman · 2 years

Text

Sin (Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)

Summary: Papa teaches you how sins are meant to be celebrated: on all fours, right in front of him.

Tags: +18, explicit adult content, Papa Emeritus being a manwhore manipulator, rough sex, oral sex, altar sex, overall blasphemy, religious references, religious trauma, some priest kink here. Around 2.4 K words. Reader is gender neutral.

Disclaimer: I wrote this thinking about Terzo but I guess it works with others too. Minors DNI pls.

“Please forgive me, Papa, for I’m afraid to sin.”

The crucifix sits heavy between your clenched hands. One by one, your fingertips stop on the beads, mentally recalling all those ancient prayers to the Lord below. Still, nothing releases the guilt that clings to your ankles and legs, that snakes up until it grabs you by the neck.

Inside the confessional booth, it’s impossible to see Papa Emeritus’ face. He remains silent, deadly so, to the point you begin to wonder if he’s there, if he can hear you.

“This is my first time confessing to you, Papa,” you continue, gathering a deep breath. It feels as if the air contains no oxygen, no richness to it. No matter how much you try to fill your lungs, it’s never enough.

The guilt. It’s all about the guilt, in the end. It consumes you right to the core, making it hard to get up the bed and do your work around the Clergy. Truth is, even if the veil covers your hair like a cold blanket, you have doubted whether or not you belong here. Previous experiences with religion have made you wary, bitter even.

This is supposed to be different, to release you from guilt and resent, from the trauma. This is your freedom now. Something you have to pursue, but it’s so hard when everything weighs so much on your body. A part of you is afraid Papa might be angry. The idea of him yelling and dragging you out of the chapel almost forces you to your feet, ready to bolt. You’ve barely interacted with him during the black mass, accepting the communion with an open mouth and open heart.

For a long moment, Papa states nothing. His voice is a low rumble when he speaks up, words laced with such kindness that it takes you by surprise. “Is that so?” He says, and you feel him leaning closer on the grille that separates both parts of the box. “And why?”

As much as the shame burdens your tongue, the words manage to escape through clenched teeth. “I don’t know,” you confess, the crucifix shaking in your hands. “There’s something I desire, but I’m fearful of it.”

Over the silence of the chapel, his words are too loud. They make you flinch. “Step out of the booth, please.”

Taking shaky steps, you obey. Standing right in front of him, his mere presence causes you to feel so small, so insignificant in the face of the chosen one. “Walk with me,” he instructs, a warm hand lingering in the small of your back, steering you into the dark.

You stop at the grand altar, right in front of the colored glass of the windows. The artwork is beautiful, intricate. Papa points to it, an open hand directing your gaze. “Do you know why we are here, standing in the open? Because there’s nothing shameful about having desires, and wishing to fulfill them.”

Contrary to what you initially believed, his voice is gentle, soft. His gloved hands ghost over your waist, fingers barely grazing your clothes. Yet, the touch delivers electricity down your legs, igniting sparks in your guts.

“Every time you desire something, that’s Lucifer’s voice whispering in your ear. It is only a matter of listening to his guidance, of trusting in his wisdom. There’s nothing wrong with sin, we were born from it, and were liberated from the clutches of tyranny thanks to it," he continues. "Good and evil are nothing but options humanity has. Satan has gifted us knowledge and sight. He gave us freedom to chase and fulfill our deep desires as we see fit. So, I ask again. Why are you so afraid?”

The question is something you have been pondering for years by now. Why are you so afraid of yourself, of your needs and wants? Why do you keep denying yourself, hiding? Is the real you ugly, sick and perverse?

Or is it merely free of preconceptions, of fear of judgment?

Even if there is not an answer inside your mind, you do your best to reply. “I’m ashamed, Papa. I’ve been told my desires are… impure, tainted. I know what I want, but I don’t know if I'm strong enough to get it.”

“It’s okay,” for a long moment, Papa Emeritus stays silent, contemplative. ”There’s a veil on your head, but you’re not wearing the habits. Have you taken your vows?”

“No, Papa. I’m lost.”

“That I can see. I see how lost you are, how much you’re hurting. Tell me, do you want me to make it better? Do you require me to show you how to enjoy a luscious, pleasant life?”

Right now, there’s nothing you desire more. You’re desperate, so thirsty for any kind of relief, willing to do anything to find a place to belong in this world. Breathless, the words escape your mouth like a confession. “Yes, please”

Papa smiles, a spark deep inside his eyes. “Then, let’s do it now. Let’s perform the oaths together. This shall be your communion.”

You hesitate, guilt gripping you by the calves, clutching your arms behind your back. He notes it. “If shame is what anchors your feet, then let me be the one to carry it for you. If you can’t take a full step forward, then take half, for I’ll meet you right in the middle.”

And half a step is what you take. “Oh, Papa,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him, nails clinging to the robes. “Please, instruct me. Be my guide into the darkness.”

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, extending his hand. “I’ll show you the way. Do you trust me?”

Against all reluctance, you do. “Yes,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. His leather glove is warm, soft under your skin. Papa offers you another smile, tighter this time. There’s a glint of something in it, something deep and dark, full of lust. It feels as if you’re making a deal with the Devil himself, as if you’re forfeiting your body and soul to Satan.

Even if that’s the case, what bliss runs inside your veins.

“We’ll silence your doubts together. There’s no better place to do it than here, right in the altar in front of the eyes of the Lord. This will be an offering to him and a lesson for you. Sin is to be celebrated, my dear. We’ll celebrate together as one.”

Escorting you right to the middle of the altar, Papa holds your hand and kisses the back of it. In a gentle but commanding tone, he orders you to take off your clothes. Slowly, button by button, the clothes fall to the floor. The cold air hits your exposed skin, sending shivers up and down your spine.

Papa’s eyes follow the curves of your thighs, the softness of your abdomen and your chest before stopping in your face. His hand cups your cheek, thumb slowly caressing over the bone.

You’re shaking. Either from the cold or the shame, it’s hard to tell. It’s not easy to stand bare and naked in body and soul in front of this man, in the middle of the chapel. Anybody could walk inside and see you, see everything.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Papa speaks up. “There’s no need to feel shame. Is this your first time doing something like this?” He asks, tilting his head.

The answer is yes. You’ve never done anything similar. Old, past experiences can’t compare to this. This is sinful, blasphemous, so dirty. Getting fucked in a church, by a priest… is scandalous.

And so, so exciting.

Nodding, your eyes fall to the floor as the heat of blood rushes to your face and chest. “Don’t worry. The inexperience, that is what makes me tremble,” he confesses, leaning closer until he’s whispering in your ear. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

Papa’s first order is to kneel before him. The wood is unforgiving under your knees, so cold on your feverish skin. Your neck strains when you look up to him, wide eyes burning on his face. From this angle, he almost doesn’t look human. Instead, he’s divine, irresistible in a way that shouldn’t be possible. There’s no doubt he is the chosen one, the one blessed by Satan.

The leather of his glove tastes bitter. Papa’s thumb presses down on your tongue and on your teeth, thick saliva coating the material. Your eyes follow the movement of his other hand, see the way he undoes the buttons of his pants. The outline of his erection is clearly visible, even through the layers of clothing.

“Let’s begin with the rites. You’ll receive your communion now.”

Papa’s skin is so warm. The precum leaking from his dick is salty, a faint aftertaste on your taste buds. His hands are on your head, one on your cheek and another on your hair, to keep you steady as he begins to thrust.

The movement is slow, controlled, but you still feel your gag reflex activate as he hits the back of your throat. Breathing deep through your nose, you focus on his abdomen, on the open robes and the embroidery on the under cassock.

He is big, so heavy on your tongue. Your hands curl on your lap, sharp nails digging on the plush flesh of your thighs as a way to keep you grounded. Papa is gripping your head, thrusting hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure without a care in the world.

The sight of his face as he looks down on you makes you moan, throat vibrating with the sound. He grunts, one of his big hands falling down to your neck and squeezing, not enough to choke, but enough to make you feel it. You gag, tears falling down from the corner of your eyes, getting lost somewhere on your collarbones.

Finally, when his muscles are tense and his mouth is agape, Papa stops. Pulling out, the tip of his cock traces your lips, smearing spit and precum. His fingers grab your chin, tilt your head up so you can look into his eyes. “You’re good, so good”, he praises. “Doesn't it feel satisfying, to indulge in your lascivious desires? Don't you want to get fucked, here in the altar? You’ll enjoy that, si?”

There are no words in your mouth, only his cum. Nodding eagerly, you follow his instructions as he backs away, letting his robes fall behind. “On your fours,” he commands, pointing at the stained glass that adorns the chapel. “I want you to look at the Lord and recite His praise. This is not for us only. This is an offering in His honor. We’re doing it in the name of Satan.”

Breathing deep, you try to recall all those lessons. Imperator’s voice is completely lost somewhere in the mind fog when you feel Papa’s fingers entering you, one at the time. His hand is burning, so hot and rough. A part of you wants to turn around, to see for the first time the bare skin.

It feels sinful, too intimate, wrong even. His tongue clicks in disapproval when you catch a glimpse of what he’s doing, of his fingers going in and out of your body, glistening in his saliva and your excitement. “Recite.”

“Our father…” you start, voice faltering when he hits the right spot. Your spine curves on its own, nails digging on the hard wood of the altar.

“Our father, who art in Hell. Unhallowed, be thy name,” Papa assist, voice deep and commanding. It is enough to prompt you to follow him, pupils focusing on the colored glass.

It’s useless. Your voice dies as he enters you, a loud, deep moan invading your vocal cords. Papa’s hands grip you by the waist, fingers digging hard enough to bruise. In the morning, you'll have plenty of mementos, you'll wear his mark with pride.

His thrusts are relentless, powerful. At some point, Papa presses down on your abdomen, causing you to feel him deeper and deeper, in your guts and even poking at the stomach. You wonder if he can feel himself moving inside you, if he feels as good as you feel right now.

His deep growl in your ear tells you he does. Going faster and faster, Papa thrusts until your arms can’t hold you anymore. Falling to the ground, the wood is a cold relief in your feverish face. Your sharp nails scratch the altar, as he hits it over and over again.

The borders of your vision become dark as you come, legs shaking and toes curling, stomach tight and back arched like a cat. Papa continues, hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, hitting even deeper until his movement becomes erratic and he comes, filling your insides.

For a long moment, he doesn't speak. Gradually, he pulls out, leaving you open and dripping for him. His fingers trace a way down your inner thighs, travel up your spine. “By the grace of Our Lord, you have received the communion of the Unholy Spirit. Hail Satan.”

“Hail Satan,” you breath out, eyes closed and mouth agape. There’s not a trace of strength in your muscles, nothing but bliss.

“And Hail yourself, Sibling. I’ll wait eagerly to celebrate your next confession.”

Without any other word, he stands up. Picking up his discarded robes, Papa begins to walk his way out of the chapel.

“Yes, Papa,” you reply. before he crosses the door. The air is beginning to come back inside your lungs, as the blood cools down. Alone on the altar, you rejoice in the feeling of his blessing trickling down your thighs.

PD: This is my retirement from the Ghost fandom. I'll never be able to write something like this again /hj.

Ask box is open so you can confess your sins, you priest-fuckers.

#ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv #papa nihil #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #my writing #my fic

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maochira · 10 months

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About comfort reader after mental breakdown. May I have lavinho or noel pls?

I can do both!

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!reader, dad!coach, hurt/comfort, thanks to @chsster for giving me the nickname in Lavinho's part!!

Synopsis for Lavinho's part: Your father is always the one who prevents you from overworking yourself, but since he's been away from home for a bit, you started falling into a burnout.

Synopsis for Noa's part: Your father's cold personality often makes you feel as if he's emotionally distant from you, but when you start crying in front of him, the opposite shows.

Lavinho

Your father's positive energy is what keeps your mood up on most days. So as soon as he's away from home for more than a few days, not only does the house feel empty, but so do you. Sure, your mother is there, but even if she tried, she couldn't replace Lavinho's positivity.

Currently, you're in a phase where everything with school is stressful, so you've been spending most of the time in your room to study. And because everything has been so stressful lately, you're always afraid of studying too little and failing your tests and exams. This results in you studying way too much and stressing yourself even more.

If your father was at home, he'd be the one to take you out of your room every now and then. Lavinho knows when you need to take breaks and he's great at getting your mind away from any school related things before you can even start to get stressed.

But he's not at home, and he won't be for many more weeks. And without you realizing it, you've overworked yourself so much to the point where you're exhausted and ready to break into tears at any point if irritated too much.

So of course, today sucked. Your friends couldn't figure out what's wrong with you and didn't know how to help either and your mom just figured you miss your father. While yes, that is true, that's not the main reason why you're feeling awful.

You mother suggested you should call your fad, since he's way better at cheering you up than she is. But for some reason, you're nervous about calling him. There shouldn't be anything to be afraid of, but you fear that he might be mad at you for not taking care of yourself properly.

But at the same time, you miss hearing your father's voice so incredibly much. It takes you a few minutes of staring at your phone until you finally call him, but it doesn't take long until Lavinho picks up. He'd drop anything at any moment if possible because he misses you just as much as you miss him, and also he's afraid of ever missing something important or not being there to listen if you're feeling bad.

"How's my floresinha (little flower) doing?" Is the first thing he asks after picking up, and that's also what brings you to tears.

"N-not so well..." You sob into the phone, which immediately worries Lavinho.

"Hey hey, what's wrong? What's hurting you?" You father asks in a slightly panicked tone. In the background, you can hear other people talking but at the same time Lavinho seems to be walking away from them.

You take some deep breaths in attempt to calm your crying, but that doesn't help at all. And for Lavinho, it just hurts so much to hear you crying like this without him being able to pull you into a hug.

"School has just been... so stressful. And I study all the time because I'm just so afraid of failing and-"

Lavinho interrupts you mid-sentence. "You sound as if you're burnt out. Is that what's going on?"

"...I think so."

Your father takes a deep breath before he continues to talk, trying to sound comforting and encouraging. "You're a smart kid. You know you won't fail, right? You know you don't have to study all the time? You've always been doing good in school without dedicating all your time to it, haven't you?"

"Yeah but I want these exams to turn out perfect so-"

"Hey hey listen," your father interrupts you once more, but he does it in the most caring way possible, "You don't need perfect grades anyways. I'll always love you no matter what."

It's genuinely surprising to hear your father in such a serious tone. Most of the time, even when he's comforting you, he lets a joke slip in every now and then or he ruffles your hair. Very often, he also pulls you into a hug that's so tight, you lose your breath for a few seconds which always makes you stop crying because it catches you off guard.

But that's not possible right now, so Lavinho is trying a different approach. It may seem out of character for him, but he's a little clueless on how to comfort you without any physical affection. Also, he feels throwing in joking when you're burnt out would be inappropriate.

"I'm always proud of you and I always will be, and so is your mother," Lavinho continues talking, hoping whatever he says will make you feel better, "So remember to take breaks even if I'm not at home to drag you out of your room, okay?"

"I'm really trying..."

"Good, because if not..." Lavinho lets out a short chuckle, "Maybe I'll have to tell mom to drag you out of there more often. And as soon as I return home, I'm gonna make sure you're not overworking yourself again. But now take some more breaks, okay?"

Noel Noa

Noa is a great dad. He's an amazing dad. The only thing that bothers you is how emotionless and cold he can come off, even towards you. Most of the time, he's like that only in a few moments. But recently, he's been more tired and also more cold in your presence.

Your father loves you very much and expresses that as much as he can, but his coldness can still come off as emotionally distant more than you'd like. And especially since you've been having a hard time with other things lately, you began bottling up your feelings.

But maybe you've been doing that a little too much. Today, the usual silence at the dinner table feels more like a pressure to you. A pressure about telling your father how you've been feeling. A pressure about telling him that you'd like him to show emotions more often.

And this pressure ends up making you cry. At first, you try to hide it but as soon as the first sob escapes you, Noa's full attention is on you. He's a bit clueless on what to say because asking "Is everything okay?" would be stupid, since it's very obvious that something's wrong.

So for the first minute, you sit there crying to yourself while your father is thinking about what to say to make you feel better. But then, he realizes he really doesn't know what to say.

The next thing he figures out is that instead of saying something, he should be doing something. You're lost in the many thoughts that are running through your head, but then suddenly you feel Noa wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up.

That's something he hasn't done in years. The last time was probably when you were in elementary school. But even though you've grown so much since then, Noa feels as if lifting you up in his arms is the only correct thing to do right now.

“Shh… It’s okay…” He whispers in a soft tone as he holds you up with ease. “Cry it out as much as you need and then you can tell me what’s wrong if you want to, alright?”

He continues holding you up for a few more moments before carefully setting you back down on your chair. He then sits down next to you and waits patiently if you want to tell him what’s wrong or not. Even though his expression is still cold, it’s obvious how worried your father is right now. He has no idea what dragged you down so much to the point where you started crying. And at the same time, he doesn't want to pressure you into telling him - although he really wants to know so he can help.

After a bit, you finally gather some of your thoughts. "Uhm... so... Everything's just been a little hard recently."

Noa's full attention is on you and he nods to show he's listening, but he doesn't say anything yet. He's waiting for you to finish first.

"And sometimes I kind of... I..." Your crying gets a little stronger because it's hard to say the truth after bottling it up. "I kind of wish you wouldn't seem so cold and distant half of the time lately..."

Noa's eyes widen as you say your last sentence. "Do I really come across like that this much?" He asks a little ashamed of himself. "...I'm so sorry."

"No no it's okay-"

"It's not." Noa looks to the side for a moment. He feels bad for seeming cold and distant even around you. "I promise I'll do better on the future, okay?" There's a little smile on his face as he leans over to pull you into another hug, this time with a short kiss on your forehead.

"I'm your father, I should have paid more attention to how I act around you..." His arms around you tighten a little before he finishes talking. "Never hesitate to tell me if you need me to improve on something, alright?"

Taglist (sign-up link): @astruosie @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @toruden @mafuyudonutt @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @yerinsshi

#💟 maochira writes #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #lavinho #lavinho x reader #lavinho x you #noel noa #noel noa x reader #noel noa x you

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