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daredvssy · 1 year

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Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

#ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #cardinal copia smut

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dragonagitator · 6 months

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Gale Dekarios / Modern Girl in Faerun BG3 fanfic snippets & ideas

I've begun writing my very first fanfic, a "Modern Girl in Faerun" author self-insert for Baldur's Gate 3 in the tradition of the "Modern Girl of Thedas" fanfics for Dragon Age.

Premise: A woman who has played a lot of BG3 is transported to the world of BG3, where she uses her foreknowledge of events to pretty much obliterate canon. End game is Gale/MGIF romance, but at an even slower burn than in canon because he thinks she's batshit crazy.

It'll be a very long while before I'll be ready to begin posting chapters on AO3 because I'm writing the scenes out of order whenever inspiration strikes instead of chronologically. But I've been posting occasional snippets and ideas to Tumblr as I go, so here's a pinned post where I'll add links to that stuff in case someone wants to read a bunch of disjointed crap from a WIP.

Criticism is very welcome! I've never written a fanfic before so I fully expect it to be terrible, and I'd much appreciate any feedback that would help make it less terrible before the final draft goes up on AO3.

Scenes & Dialogue Snippets:

Is the somatic component an erection?

Um... what language is that?

200 gold, same as in town

How can you have the word ‘lesbian’ with no Lesbos and no Sappho?

Make. Me. A. Better. Offer.

Should I be jealous of Withers, Gale? I know he's your type.

The Book of Erotic Fantasy

Plot Ideas:

Fucked-up idea for why Gale has abs

I just wanted to fuck a hot wizard but now I have homework

Timeline of major events during Gale Dekarios's lifetime

Gale's and Tara's search for a cure to his condition was a race against time for them both

Gale was picked up in Yartar while headed north to die

The lack of Gale Dekarios / Modern Girl in Faerun author self-insert fanfics is killing me

The nautiloid could have plausibly realm-jumped to Earth

Soulless by Toril standards

Wizard of Waterdeep, meet Wizard of Excel!

Astarion is the only companion who immediately believes the MGIF

Traded My Spoons For Knives

Teamwork makes dream work, and my author self-insert dreams of taking a bath

There's only one God you should be worshipping, his name is Ed Greenwood

I'll be asking Withers to respec me from Accountant to Sorcerer at the earliest opportunity

Crippling existential crisis

I am receiving the Shovel Talk from a flying cat

Where's the CIA when you need them?

How to help Karlach in your post-game fix-it fics

Show us on the Waterdeep map where Gale's tower is???

My Big Fat Greek Wedding / Mamma Mia / Dragon Heist mashup

Oh, so you're the local Goddess of Magic? Well, let me introduce you to Hecate and Freyja and the Morrigan and Isis and...

I've already come up with at least three sequels

Tara would be all over Tav's baby bump

Waterdeep needs the Freedom of Information Act

Speedrunning the Enlightenment

Elminster's portal to Earth seems like an easier way home than asking Lae'zel to please hijack me another nautiloid

Gale as a "Faerun Character in Modern Earth"

#it's a lovely morning in faerun and i am a horrible author self insert #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #bg3 gale #modern girl in faerun #modern character in faerun #faerun character in modern earth

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idolatrybarbie · 7 months

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the world tipped on its side

chapter five - satellite

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

rating & summary: explicit | you reflect on the concept of love.

warnings: smut, swallowing like a champ, references to past physical injury, reference to frigid parent dynamics, dead parents, reader has a disability, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, emotionssss, pathetic!frankie moments.

notes: @wannab-urs gin hurt my feelings so now everyone must suffer next chapter but enjoy this while we're here. i kind of think this is trash garbo but (at the time of queuing this) i'm in a weird headspace coming back home for the first time. also it's late and i've been traveling all day so i'm choosing to ignore myself. goodnight and enjoy.

Friendship. That’s what this is.

Friendship with a man who called you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Said that you’re so beautiful it’s scary. Who you had just sex with.

You don’t see much of Frankie on set, except for the few chaste and directive conversations between you, himself, and Ashton. In those moments, the very last thought on your mind is whatever is going on with you and him. It’s work, that’s the priority. Not that you give a shit about the movie, but it’d be nice if everyone wrapped and returned home in one piece.

Every time you try and talk to him, someone else pulls you away. This goes on for the first two days of filming in the woods. You don’t know what this is—this pull that keeps you circling him, even if you never quite seem to gain on Frankie in the chase. The sun and moon, bouncing light between each other at all times. You’re trying to figure out which role you are playing.

You catch him in a personal moment on day four, just getting off the phone with someone behind a production trailer. He looks momentarily startled, but not deterred by your presence. A good sign.

“Hey,” Frankie says. He sounds exactly like he did over the phone.

“Hi,” you return. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yeah. I figured,” he says. “I mean, me too. Just with the—” He’s motioning vaguely at the helicopter parked thirty feet from you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I don’t want to do it here. Maybe you could come over, or…”

“I’ve got my daughter this week,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Oh, shit. Right. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Things are just really…tight right now. Time-wise.”

The pager at your hip buzzes. Ashton calling everyone back to set.

“I’ll call, okay? I promise,” Frankie says. The words make your chest cold and you hate it. This is selfish, surely. The man has a kid, for crying out loud. Who are you to deny or resent dad duty?

But you do. At this moment, you really do, wishing that the small being he has called his pride and joy would cease to exist for an evening. It’s horrible, so you nod and that's that. Back to work you go.

You wait until the end of the week. Frankie does not call. You hate, hate that you’ve been reduced to the girl in movies that would pine over the phone and wait for that special boy to call. Because really, are any of them all that special? Is Frankie?

Sure, he touched you and it felt like a match to your insides, but does that mean anything? You’re out of practice. He’s the first person to pay you any mind in that way since you became disabled. The more you think about it, really think about it, the more the argument for Frankie Morales falls apart.

Mia comes over on a night where missing Sam makes her heart ache a little too much to be alone, bringing with her a shitty bottle of rosé. You’re half a glass deep when she starts to ask that needling question, What’s wrong? And finishing the bottle by the time you sigh as an answer to her asking for the millionth time. You agreed to be open after the—spat? Blowup? Long overdue reuniting best friend fight?—but it still takes some time. She is prying open a mussel to find a very shitty prize.

“It’s stupid,” you say. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, and it isn’t,” Mia says, a frown on her face. Your lips stay sealed in a pout and she turns on those evil, adorable eyes. “Tell me.”

You hold out for about five minutes, some action flick moving quietly across your flat screen before you finally give in.

“Jesus! Fine,” you relent. “It’s like being waterboarded.”

Mia grins with satisfaction before her face snaps back to sober (as much as one can be after a whole bottle of wine) seriousness. “Spill.”

“You’re going to say it’s dumb,” you say.

“You’re projecting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I slept with Frankie.” A bomb explodes on screen, illustrating what is most certainly happening inside Mia’s skull at this very moment. “Yeah…”

“Was it good?”

“Mia!” you scold, swatting at her knee.

“Hey! You can’t blame me for asking. I love Sam but I have eyes,” she says. “He reminds me of all the guys we went to school with that have photos with fish on their Tinder profiles.”

“You’re terrible,” you sigh.

“You know it, baby,” she smiles. “So you slept together. What next?”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Mia holds her tongue for a moment, trying to formulate this sentence in the least explosive way possible. “Do you want to?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say.

“I have to ask. You’re not exactly the talk it out type of person anymore,” Mia says.

Ignoring that, you say, “He’s busy. I’m busy. I hate it.”

“Call him,” Mia tries.

“Did that. Not really an over-the-phone kind of conversation,” you say.

Mia hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well. Try it out with me first.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re going to say to him, say it to me. I know exactly where your mind is going with this—oh no, he has no time for me. Is it even worth discussing this matter that is very important to me if I project unimportance from the other party onto my feelings?"

You don’t say anything, willing another bottle of wine to appear next to the empty one on the coffee table.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong. It’s what you do,” Mia says, confidence in the way she straightens up against the couch. And she isn’t wrong, but maybe you aren’t either. Frankie isn’t her. Frankie isn’t your best friend. He’s friendly, and you fucked.

“Okay, fine,” you say. You focus in on Mia’s eyes, imagining a different pair of them staring back at you. “I just—I want to tell you that what happened…was a first. In a long while. And I don’t know how to say it like a normal goddamn person, but—”

You can’t focus, words flying out of your mouth too fast for your tipsy brain to keep up. Your feelings are a jumble in your head, a vintage game of Scrabble lost to time. Mia’s not Frankie either. You’d have to explain it and provide all this context that you can’t even put words to for her to understand. For this to feel any ounce of real. Frankie would simply get it. But he won’t, because at this rate you’ll never get to tell him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“Well I can’t make you do anything. I know you, and you’ll do what you think is best. Even if you know the alternative might be better,” Mia says. You can’t help but laugh. “I kind of get it, how your dad felt? When we were at school.”

The mood turns. Not sour, not quite the same. Your living room has a palpable edge ebbing through it now, carried through the occasional waft of alcohol between you, Mia, and the open, empty bottle.

“Do you remember him when we were in college?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Your dad? Of course. He was so, I don’t know—hands-on? He was around way more than my parents were,” Mia says.

He showed up every third weekend of the month with a few containers of leftovers; macaroni pie, frozen meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes from his garden.

A man who only softened when you elected to up and leave. A man you resented until the day he died. A man you still resent, deep down in your soul. Yet you miss him.

The first time your heart’s been activated in years to throw you off assured feet and your first instinct is to run home to Dad. He lingers in your car, in the way you hold the gravy boat at Mia’s Thanksgiving dinners; his gloves are what you wore in the months of a tiresome film shoot amid an unending New York blizzard.

You hate him. He loved you. For the sixth time this week, you ponder driving home to clean up his grave. You can’t right now, because of work. Maybe when the summer’s over. The leaves will have started to fall. The headstone could use a good power wash.

“Where’d you go?” Mia asks.

“Hm?”

“You disappeared on me for a second,” she says.

“Thinking,” you say.

“Mm, don’t do too much of that. You’ll break your brain.”

“Already broken.”

“That’s too bad,” Mia smiles. “Had some pretty great thoughts sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“All the time,” she corrects. Mia gets off the couch, taking a minute to steady herself. “I’m calling a ride.”

“Excellent idea,” you nod. “See? Look at you. Responsible, quick-witted. You can do the thinking for the both of us.”

“Slow your roll, Romeo,” Mia cautions, staring into her phone. She looks up at you. “The night is still young. I’m only going home because you’re dry.”

“There’s a reason you keep alcohol at your place and I don’t,” you say. There have been some days, far behind you now, where you might’ve just drank the pain away. Certainly not the way to go.

She leaves you with another laugh and a smile, promising to text you when she gets home. The apartment stills as soon as the door shuts. You almost open it again, reaching for the knob to lean out into the hall and call Mia back. You don’t, instead letting the quiet envelope you. This doesn’t feel the same as the loneliness that would lurk in the shadowy corners of the room. Your lamps finally feel tall enough to reach those spots, dawning light on them and banishing the feeling.

You let yourself sit with it. Not lonely but alone. This isn’t permanent and it’s not a death sentence, as uncomfortable as it feels right now. Mia is there, along with an assortment of friends whose names you’ll have to dust the cobwebs off of soon. Even if Frankie never calls, you’ll be okay. A bittersweet realization for this dull and itching moment.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you pass the bathroom, you pause. You watch yourself, not in judgment like the last time. Plain observation. You blink three times in one minute before moving on.

It’s odd, looking without really looking. You’ve oscillated between dissection and avoidance of yourself for the last handful of years. This is a new skill to build. Look, there she is. A blink in passing.

Wherever you go, there you are. Get used to it.

Back on the studio lot for the rest of the week, you don’t see Frankie. The occurrence becomes less and less significant as the days pass. You almost delete his number from your phone altogether. Almost.

At lunch, you go through your phone to his contact, finger hovering over the trash button. In the end, you decide against it. It’s a number you might need for work. It’d be a pain in the ass to have to go down to payroll for his contact information—like you don’t have the digits memorized. Mia joins you at some point, minutes blurring together as you eat in pleasant silence.

Shooting goes over almost two hours because of rain leaking through the roof onto a set piece. You get home close to midnight. The street lamps bathe everything in a warm glow. Puddles have collected in the divets of the road, water reflecting the artificial light alongside the cold moon.

The elevator ride up to your floor should be like any other. Your instincts know better. Watching the digital numbers change as the metal box ascends, your stomach flips in your gut. You’ve always been acutely aware of the environments you found yourself in, bullshit meter finely tuned to warn you when shit was about to hit the fan.

It’s an instinct your father grew and nurtured in childhood. Because of him, all hard edges and unreachable wells of emotion. He was iced over solid. You found yourself carefully skating over that surface, around and around again for years until you left.

When the elevator doors open, you half-expect to see him standing there. Risen from the grave like a corpse from your dreams. The wall of shiny metal parts into two, and you see someone. Not your father. The breath caught in your throat flashes from crisp to boiling, a tube of Icy Hot slathered across your lungs.

You’ve never told Frankie where you live. So what is he doing here?

Before you’ve even made it to your door, you ask him.

“Thought I’d missed you,” he supplies as an explanation. “Or that you were ignoring me from inside.”

“I can ignore you from outside, too,” you say, setting your bag down. Taking keys from your back pocket, you avert your eyes as you get a grasp on the one for your front door.

“Listen,” he begins, watching as you turn the lock. “I—”

“Look, Frankie. I don’t have time for this. Or you, or your games.” Turning the handle of the door and pushing it open, you grab your things and step inside your apartment. “You said you’d call. You didn’t. End of story.”

“The phone works both ways,” he says. You try not to be shocked at the audacity.

“Well this,” you say, pointing between the two of you, “doesn’t.”

You’re shutting the door when he gently rests a hand on the reinforced wood.

“Please just—let me explain?” Frankie asks. You don’t close the door but don’t open it any wider for him. At that, he says, “Thank you.”

Glancing behind you to find the living room clock, you say, “You’ve got two minutes.” Two minutes to midnight.

“I wanted to call, but I—” Frankie cuts himself off. “I was a coward and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually feel this way about people. Not in a long time.”

His words are scratching at your heart. You hold your steely gaze against him, ignoring your insides slowly melting behind the door.

“I really like you. More than I’ve liked anybody. More than I like myself most days. That night in Florida was confusing for me. You wanted me there, and I wanted you. And then you said it was scary and I realized just how terrifying it is. This is.” Frankie takes a breath. “I didn’t want this to be weird. Didn’t want to box you into a corner with all of this shit I’m feeling because that isn’t fair and—”

He’s been avoiding focusing on you, instead staring at the nice tile scuff between the doorway and his boot. Frankie looks up, words playing straight on his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost when all he’s looking at is you.

“And now I’m some fucker on your doorstep begging you to listen to me tell my sob story.” From the sounds of it, that’s the last thing he wants.

“Sometimes things don’t work out. That’s life,” you say. You’re telling yourself that this is the smart decision. Ice him out and your heart stays safely in your chest. Close the door and he’ll forget all about you.

Frankie’s eyes are wide, expression raw. He isn’t observing or puzzling over you, he’s barely hiding anything on that face of his. Frankie is bleeding emotion all over your door. You want to take him in your hands and kiss it better. Lick the gore from his mouth, words crimson and dripping off his chin.

So you do.

Setting your bag down in the corner, you open the door wider to see all of him. He stands tall, all broad shoulders under his slubby blue button-down. You’re kissing Frankie before you can consider anything else. He takes ahold of the frilly sleeves of your blouse to pull you closer.

Licking at your teeth, Frankie walks you backward into the apartment. The door is still open. You maneuver around and press your back against it, closing with a thud. He breaks the kiss to murmur another apology against your cheek. You let him, pushing your tongue back into his mouth again.

Gripping the hair that sticks out at the nape of his neck, Frankie moans into the kiss.

“Are you—? Can we?” he asks, whisper-quiet. “Should we?”

No. Yes? You aren’t sure that it matters much anymore. “Do you want to?”

“Always.”

“Okay.”

The kiss is gentler from there on, moving through the front hall and living room with Frankie attached to your face. He almost trips himself taking his boots off. You both make it to the bed, thighs catching at the edge of the mattress. Lying down, he joins you. This is immediately better than that shitty motel, and you haven’t done anything yet.

Frankie moves onto his side, distracted by your lips as he works at the front zipper of your pants. You move your hand to join his, pulling the silver tab down over metal teeth like you’ve done a couple hundred times by now. He huffs in a wordless thanks, pushing your pants down until they are bunched at your ankles. You toe them off along with your socks, leaving you in nothing but underwear from the waist down.

He’s looking at you like an eclipse, utterly fascinated. You begin to shrink in on yourself under his gaze, but he gently runs the pads of his fingers over your cheek. You lean into the warm touch, three matches dragging against your skin to set your face alight.

Frankie kisses down your body, undoing a few of the buttons that sit over your chest. He doesn’t take the shirt off of you, instead pushing it up as his lips kiss over your stomach. You jerk, the soft feeling sending a jolt through your body.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please touch me.” You hate that you’re begging, but love to hear yourself do it.

Frankie does too, moving his mouth over you as he keeps your underwear on. He licks at you over the lycra material, soaking the already damp fabric where your clit sits beneath it. Dipping his tongue low against the gusset, he slips two fingers under your waistband and tugs it away from your skin. The panties peel off of you.

Frankie bunches them in his hand, leaving them beside him on the bed. Without warning, he’s on you again—really this time. He licks at your cunt fervently, like this is the last chance he’ll get to give head. You close your eyes and pull his head closer to your body, small moans slipping past your lips.

This is still a bit of an apology. The thought comes to you amidst your fuzzy haze as you drip onto his tongue. Frankie groans below you, taking your right thigh in one hand and hoisting it onto his shoulder. He’s attached to you again, a different set of lips.

Most of his attention is focused on your clit, his tongue swirling at it between moments when he presses it flat against the whole of you.

“You’re always so sweet for me,” Frankie mumbles. “Wet and pretty. D’you like it when I fuck you with my mouth?”

“Yes, fuck—always,” you sigh.

Dragging him up by the hair, you kiss him again. You need to before you say something stupid. One hand is held softly at your jaw while Frankie’s other hand works you over, pressing hard against your clit.

“God.” Your heart is racing underneath your skin, beating too fast to be quite comfortable.

Frankie’s so close and everything smells like him. Frankie and sex; two things this room has never been exposed to in your tenure here. You should make a candle.

You scratch at his chest, half-hoping to draw a bit of blood as you whine his name.

“Yeah honey? That good? Nice and slow, or—?”

You nod and he slips a finger inside of you, pressing against the front wall of your pelvis. This returns you to begging for more, for anything. For him.

At the edge of an orgasm, Frankie’s fingers leave you in search of a condom. You reach out to the drawer of your bedside table, yanking it forward. Amongst a stash of pens, sticky notes, and batteries is a handful of them. Frankie takes one and opens it up, sliding the latex over his cock. One day, you’ll get your mouth on that thing. Right now you both have other plans.

He works his hand over himself a couple of times before sinking onto the mattress with you. His arms cage you in at either side as he slides in slowly. He’s only halfway inside you when you nod to yourself, a hum barely audible.

“What?” he asks.

“Noting that you’re a missionary type of guy,” you say.

That pulls a laugh from him, morphing into a squeezed moan as you hook one leg over Frankie’s hip. He’s pushed the rest of the way inside of you, breathing heavily at the surprise.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Would that be so bad this way?” you ask. It’s hard to keep up the sarcastic banter when you’re so full of him.

Frankie sighs. “No.” The word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips, the force moving you up the bed half an inch.

What you would give to have him fuck you into the headboard; pound you into the mattress. He can’t, shouldn’t, and seems to know it already. Frankie grants you your wish of laying on you though. Just lightly, a feather of a man on top.

Frankie’s cock kisses the end of your cunt before he pulls out again. You hold onto him, pressing him closer as you keep your face in the shadow of his neck. Picturing the scene, pants off and shirts on, almost makes you laugh. Another punch of his hips fucks the thought from your head as you sink your teeth into his skin. Frankie hisses, losing his rhythm with a slight stutter.

“Do that again,” he says, waiting. You do, kissing at the tender skin of his throat this time before you bite him. The flesh between your teeth is soft and elastic, pulling away from his body.

In Frankie’s absence, your appetite has grown. Maybe that’s what it is: starvation. Waiting for days to get your fill once again. You need him inside you—in your cunt, under your skin, between your teeth. You would devour him if he’d let you.

“You feel so fucking good.” His words come slow, contrasting the small gasps he pulls from you on every thrust, leaving you breathless. Frankie is holding you in almost a cradle now. Claustrophobia settles between your bodies deliciously, the world shrinking down to a pinhole as he fucks you.

It doesn’t quite feel like fucking, though. The way Frankie touches you is too soft in some places, and the way he’s looking at you is killer. His eyes flash with that unexplainable thing, stirring your stomach as you feel your peak again. This is a murder. He’s returning the favour.

The next kiss Frankie gives you is bruising. The heat of your skin against his boils over, the oxygen blur caused by your faulty lungs and the slap of his hips against yours doing you in. You come with a groan, panting into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you.

“So pretty when you come,” he says beside your ear. “So pretty always, sweet thing.”

He pulls out of you, jerking himself off through the condom over your body. You shake your head, removing the thin piece of rubber. You pick up where he left off, spitting on him and stroking Frankie’s cock with the tight circle of your hand.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and loud. “Honey, slow down. Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth.” Testing, you give him a kitten lick at the tip of his dick.

“Oh god.”

You shake your head. “Just me.”

He comes with a few more strokes, striping your tongue, your lips, your chin. You let him go to gather it from your skin onto your fingers. It’s only a little shiny here in the half-dark. You can feel Frankie watching when you press your index past your lips, tasting more of him.

He groans. Again, he says, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Frankie lays down on the empty side of the bed. You brace for his after-sex questionnaire, but the conversation never comes. He rolls onto his side to face you, slipping his arms around your torso as you face away from him.

Eventually he asks, “You still like me being here? Now that it’s here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Florida, it’s a vacation. This is a little more…” Permanent. Memorable.

Whenever you went home for the summer, your childhood bedroom plagued you with thoughts and memories long buried of your amateur firsts. Your brain still sort of worked like that—you’re sure that if you went back to your old unit in California, the handful of PAs and dolly grips you spent nights with would be one of the first things on your mind.

“Yeah,” you say, answering the question. “This is better.”

“Better?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Too late,” Frankie says.

You sigh. “How can you be the coolest guy ever and an absolute donut at the same time?”

“You think I’m cool?” he asks.

Unlike him, you’re honest. “Unfortunately.”

Frankie hums, the rumble of his chest sinking into the bones in your spine easily.

This is all easy. Listening to him breathe, letting him in your space, falling asleep against him. If you weren’t so thoroughly fucked and tired, the simplicity would freeze you, desperate to scramble away. All you can do is lay there, falling asleep in his arms.

When you wake up, Frankie’s gone. Again.

Something painful seizes your chest, an icy claw poking razor-sharp fingers through the slats in your ribs. The sheets on the empty side of the bed still have the faint glow of body heat. He must’ve left recently, or maybe he’s still up. You can catch him before he puts his boots on and walks out your front door—out of your apartment, out of your life.

Franke interrupts your thoughts when he returns to your room, a mug in his hand.

“Did I wake you?” he asks. His morning voice is low and gravelly. A feast for the ears.

“No,” you shake your head. “I thought you left.”

“Moved my boots. They were getting dirt on your nice carpet.” Right. You remember him leaving them somewhere in your apartment. “I made coffee.”

“I’m okay.” You let your breathing even out as he sits back down on the bed with you. “We should…talk.”

“That’s all we ever do,” Frankie says. “Well, that and…” The other thing you two are so proficient at these days.

“I mean really talk. About this,” you say.

“Right,” he nods. Frankie sets his mug down, steam rising from the top. “I guess I do owe you a secret.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “I want to tell you.”

When you told him about the accident, about everything that changed, you’d handed him this soft and precious thing of yours that no one else had ever seen. With the roles reversed, your palms itch. You can’t help but think that you’ll drop his.

“But you have to promise me something first,” Frankie says. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Please.”

“Okay.”

A long moment of silence draws on between the two of you as he stares at your bed sheets. Frankie’s mouth twitches, filtering through his vocabulary to find the right words. Then finally, he speaks.

He tells you about a region in South America called Tres Fronteras. About a phone call, a decision, a heist. The money, most of it lost to the unforgiving land and sea. Frankie lost a friend, a wife, and a life he was trying to carve out for himself. All for riches that were never going to be his.

“I killed people. I was good at it—that and flying planes. And then all of that ended with the service. For a while there I was…a bit of a trigger-happy coke head,” he says, almost rolling his eyes. Frankie can’t seem to look at you, the same way he couldn’t in the hall. “Took a long time to clean up my act.”

You understand what he meant on that beach, an apology waiting behind your teeth as you keep your eyes on him. You don’t verbalize it. Instead, you take his hand into yours. Gently, you squeeze.

“I guess you aren’t the only one squirrely about secrets,” Frankie whispers.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Frankie surrenders, face drawn when he meets your eyes.

“That’s not the person you’ve shown me. It’s not the guy that I see. We change. For worse or for better.”

You would be lying if you said that his admissions don’t unsettle you; that this is an easy pill to swallow. But you know him. You want him. He and you are cut from the same cloth in the end. This changes nothing.

“Which one do you think you are?” he asks.

“Worse.” But that can change. Is changing, even as you sit here.

“And me?”

At that, you smile. “Better.”

You want to tell him that the promise of seeing him had been one of the only things getting you through the slow, thick haze of summer. That the thought of him never calling was a little devastating, no matter how sad that sounds. You miss his touch and want his eyes on you always. You’ve never had such a quick turnaround in opinion about anything. It’s selfish, really.

“I’m kind of a bad person,” he says slowly. It’s half warning, half realization.

“Good and bad are concepts from make-believe. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So what do you worry about?” Frankie asks.

“Reality,” you say. “My whole life is centered around making other people believe in something fake. Concentrating on what’s real? That’s been keeping me sane lately.”

Mia’s words. Frankie’s attention. That tangible feeling of warmth, different but the same, when you are around both of them.

“And you’re real,” you say before he can ask. “A bit of a fuck up, but so am I.”

“That must be why we get along,” Frankie says.

“Must be.”

You want to add you’ll be okay to that list of real things. You need it. You’d kill for it. Silently, with your head against the pillow, you make a decision.

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads / @for-a-longlongtime

#pedrostories #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: the world tipped on its side

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to-the-stars8 · 1 year

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Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3 reposting from my other story in case yall don't read that one, but; Wow, I've been gone for two whole weeks without a word. That is totally my bad, guys. If you're by chance wondering why I've been MIA I'm just going to say sickness and seasonal depression and hope that explains enough. lol Nonetheless, my pretties xoxo 18+, MDNI

41- Wrapping Willies and Getting Silly

After years of practice of moving in complete darkness, Jason eventually found confidence in it. When no one could see you there were no worries about what deformities you had or what mistakes you made. Maybe that’s where he got the confidence boost to take nearly every article of clothing off your body while looking at your face. Something he knew for sure he couldn’t do in the light.

Either way, the sensation of it all had every single nerve in his body on edge with excitement.

Your hand left his shoulder, and, despite not even being able to see what you were doing, he could hear the fabric of your underwear slowly slide against your legs as you wiggled out of them. Then, your fingers slowly traced from his shoulder back down to his hands.

“Move this way,” Your command was soft, almost delicate.

Your free hand wrapped around Jason’s hip as you sat up. With ease, you switched your positions, having him lay back as you laid on him. Satisfied, you asked if he was okay, and Jason couldn’t have said yes faster.

Your hunger for him was given away by your feverish kisses, pressing passionate lines from his lips to every scar on his body. You were making a map of him, something you had yearned to do for so long. The scars felt different against your lips than the rest of his skin. Some of them were softer and others not so much. Jason whimpered at certain ones, but with little light, it was hard to determine if they were good or bad.

“Are you okay,” You asked, lips pressing into his collarbone. “Am I going too fast?”

Jason’s hand came up on your sides, gliding up under your breasts and then back down to your ass. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Are you—”

“Please.”

Jason sounded desperate, and you decided to be brave. Slowly, you moved your kisses further down his body until you felt the hairs above his cock brush your nose. Jason’s breath hitched in his throat, and he made an audible gasp. You were proud of the response.

Taking his hard cock in your hand, you gave it a pump before experimentally putting your lips against the leaking tip. Jason bucked his hips forward at the sensation, surprising you.

“Sorry, sorry,” He gasped out. “I didn’t mean…”

Before he could finish, you took the weeping tip into your mouth, sucking gently before taking more of him into your mouth inch by inch. It could have been the hunger or those gorgeous pathetic moans from him for him that pushed you, but either way, you were taking his cock to the hilt. You listened intently since you couldn’t see him, soaking in each and every delicious sound, one right after the other.

He tasted almost sweet, and you found it fitting. A man as kind as him, it should have been obvious. His cock twitched in your mouth like crazy, letting you know that you’re doing something right. When you pull back up, letting off his tip with an audible pop, you tried to squint through the darkness at him. Still, you couldn’t see anything but his outline. The only way you knew he was there was by his hands on your arms and his moans.

“Jason,” You say, taking a moment to kiss his thigh. “Talk to me, honeybee.”

“I was so close,” He whined.

Smiling, you pressed one more kiss to the tip of his cock before crawling back up to feast on his lips again. He welcomed it despite the bitterness of his orgasm vanishing.

“Can I turn on a light, or open the curtains,” You asked. “I’d like to see you.”

Jason’s heart fumbled in his chest. He was comfortable with the lights off, especially since he knew he couldn't look you in the eyes when you two were this intimate. And he didn’t know how to explain why he liked them off without ruining the whole mood.

“We don’t have to, Jason,” You said after he took too long to answer. “If you’re more comfortable like this for now then that’s fine. Just do me a favor and tell me to stop the moment you want. I can’t see you to know what you’re thinking.”

“I will,” He whispered.

“Promise?” You said and patted around for his hand.

You found it and nudged your pinky against his. Smiling, Jason hooked them together. “Promise.”

“Good,” You said before moving.

Jason heard you feel around the bed, patting the pillow and even accidentally his face, before finding the nightstand. Your hand smacked against the wooden top until you found the drawer.

“What are you looking for?” Jason asked, lightly biting at the arm against his chest that was supporting you.

You huffed before answering, “A condom. Ever heard the phrase wrap your willy before you get silly?”

Jason chuckled. “Not from anyone who wanted to get laid.” He ran a hand over your ass then added, “plus, don’t worry, I have one in my belt. I always carry one in case of emergencies.”

You snorted. “Emergencies?”

“Ya know, for the people who need to wrap their willies—” Despite the darkness, you could just hear the shit-eating grin on that pretty face.

“Ha-ha,” You sarcastically laughed. “Put it on.”

Jason, never one to deny you anything, did as you commanded. He slipped it on before sliding in next to you. And you were ready for him. You moved him below you, straddling his waist as you took full advantage of the power you had over him. Yet, he couldn’t let you have all the fun.

Inch by inch, his hands rounded your thighs until his right hand rubbed over your lower half. He heard your breath hitch in your throat then let out a sigh as his fingers ghosted over the inside of your thighs. When his hand curiously caressed your folds, you shuddered against him with a whine. His fingers dipped between them, stroking slowly until he found exactly what he was looking for.

He listened to your reaction as he circled your clit, and when you let out a choked sound he paused. “Are—are you okay?”

You huffed as you reached between your bodies to push his hand against you. “Perfect, honeybee. I’m perfect. Keep going.”

Jason smiled at you with such happiness that, if you could see him, you would have thought he won the lottery. Your reaction sent butterflies in his stomach. He continued his languid rounds on your clit until you were mumbling broken, incoherent words.

Jason was fucking reveling in it.

You felt swollen and wet against his fingers, and his cock throbbed because that was because of him.

Then, just as he was about to explore his way down to your entrance, you managed out, “I want you inside me. Please.”

Jason nearly came right then. “I didn’t—” The words died on his lips when he felt your eyes on him. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to top?” You asked, reluctantly pulling yourself off his hand.

“Please.” Jason wasn’t sure he could be on top and still retain the confidence the darkness gave him. He acknowledged that he was a strong guy, and was worried that he would hurt you unintentionally. One of the reasons you had been on top this entire time.

Your lips met his again before asking, “You still good to keep going?”

Jason leaned into the palm of your hand that he brought up to caress his cheek and nodded. Pressing one more kiss to his lips, you moved.

He could feel you move down his legs, adjusting your position so you hovered right over his cock. Somehow, it surprised him when your fingers gingerly wrapped around it to align it at your entrance. As you teased him, letting him poke and prod at you, he could feel how hot you were. When you lowered yourself slowly onto his cock, Jason threw his head back and cried out. Amidst the new sensation of you wrapped around him, he heard you let out a long, satisfied moan that you had to be holding in.

Sinking down on his cock was nothing short of near ecstasy for you.

He’d had sex before, but nothing like this. He loved you—trusted you, and that made the feeling of being so fucking close to you taste sweeter. When you were at the hilt of his cock, Jason gripped your thighs as he adjusted to the warmth and tightness of you. Somewhere in between, he thought he managed to gasp out your name.

“You okay?” You said breathlessly.

Jason nodded before remembering you couldn’t see him. “Amazing.” It wasn’t exactly an answer to your question, but it perfectly described how he felt.

Satisfied with his answer, you ground your hips against him. Jason wanted to move, to buck up into you with relentlessness, but the sounds you made as you pleased yourself on his cock convinced him that he needed to let you take everything.

Your hands moved across his chest, groping every part of his body that you could. Jason copied you as he groped your breasts before his hands fell down over your inner thighs. It took a second since he couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but when his thumb brushed against your clit you nearly fell forward. Luckily, you managed to catch yourself and put both of your palms flat against his pecs.

He felt warm, sweaty, and fucking hot. You could have told yourself it couldn’t get better than this, but the skin-smacking against-skin sound that echoed throughout the room had your insides on fire.

“Yes,” You sighed. “Keep doing that.”

Jason shifted beneath you and you clamped your thighs over his hips with a squeal. He’d hit that one spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back into your head. Jason bucked his hips up almost as if he could read your mind. The feeling of restraint he was desperately holding on to quickly started to disappear. It felt so good—you felt so good.

When he started to buck into you, your voice echoed off the walls of your bedroom. You tried saying something, but with your panting and the way Jason’s cock was filling you so damn well it was impossible.

Jason’s fingers rubbed against your clit as he abused your g-spot with his cock, and you weren’t too far from coming. Still, you tried holding on longer when you heard him whine desperately. Leaning down, you kissed him as you met his thrusts.

Jason gasped and broke the kiss. “Fuck.”

“I know,” you panted out. “I'm gonna come, too.”

Just as the words left your mouth you cried out again, making sounds that Jason had never heard from you before. You clenched around him, and Jason knew he rather die than let go of your body. Slowing down, he continued to fuck up into your pussy until your body was shaking.

“Jason,” You called as you fell forward onto his chest.

As he thrust up, he held your hips against his, letting out a low groan before stilling. His lips found yours again, kissing them so feverishly it almost felt like he hadn’t kissed you in ages. When the overstimulation started to kick in, Jason was slow to pull out of you. He did it inch by inch, almost teasing you, and your toes curled at the sensation.

“Oh fuck,” You breathed.

Jason huffed let out a chuckle and agreed with you. Lazily, you slowly slid off his body until you were on your back next to him, breathing heavily alongside him. He wasn’t too sure what to do next, because before it was really just sex. It was a clear-cut process that had little to no strings attached.

He lay there frozen with sweaty skin, jumbled thoughts, and anxiety as he tried to figure out what to do.

Suddenly, with a long, tired groan you reached up and switched on the lamp. The moment the warm light touched his skin, he felt more naked than he already was. He was a mess in the aftermath and terrified of what you would think. Jason preferred to be a disaster in the dark.

When you looked over at him, fear doubled down in his chest. Your eyes wandered over him with no shame, drinking up every hickey, drop of sweat, scar, and whatever you had left on him.

What you said next was soft, and Jason, for once, let himself believe your compliment. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight than you right now, Jason Todd.”

Jason smiled and knew he’d keep the lights on next time.

#jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd headcanon #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction

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lemonluvgirl · 7 months

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Hi, everyone. Sorry for being MIA for the last few weeks. I know I haven't written or posted anything in a while. I've actually been dealing with some medical stuff going on. It's been stressful, and I'm also settling into my new school and job. I'm not quiting the Fandom or anything. I hope to be back in good health soon and posting again. Thanks to everyone who reached out with a kind word. And to all the anons who kept asking about chapter updates, please do some research on proper fandom etiquette.

Fanfiction writers do not get paid to write or post. Many of us work or go to school. We are busy people who write for free. Don't take writers for granted. We often deal with things in our own lives that make writing continuously impossible.

Learn how to subscribe to a story on AO3 or FFN. You will get notified when there is an update. There is no need to spam a writer's inbox with obnoxious demands.

To everyone else, I'll be checking in on tumblr sporadically, but I'll still be around 😊👍❤️

#lemonluvIRL #personal #update

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the-lonelybarricade · 2 years

Note

since we are on the subject of fic recs…i’ve got to be the one to ask… got and smut recs?

(also you’re very cool and a talented writer)

LB what have you been up to for the last few days you've been MIA from tumblr? The answer is having uni-induced mental breakdowns and sorting through the entire explicit Feysand archives on AO3. I’ve been organizing these rec lists by authors but I've sorted this one by theme so it’s easier for people to find what kind of smut suits their tastes. This is a very comprehesive list so I'm putting it under a read more.

I also tried to be strict about only including compeleted one-shots/two-shots but I did make some exceptions because they are too good not to include. Incomplete fics are marked with a 🙏 because I'm praying that one day the authors will bless us with more glorious content <33

✨= Feyre pov, 🌙 = Rhys pov

Disclaimer: regardless of how I've sorted these fics, please read the tags and the author's summary of the fics themselves and read at your own discretion. 🔞

Canon Compliant smut: Sex scenes with similar vibes to the Feysand sex life we saw in canon. (Very tender and loving, usually involves Rhys being a passionate simp for his High Lady)

Saturated Sunset ✨ - Rhys goes to pieces when he sees Feyre in a new set of lacy underthings (as he should)

Tease 🌙 - set in ACoMaF, Feyre gets revenge for that sexy vision Rhys sent her

Paint Me ✨ - Paintbrush play meets sensitive Illyrian wings

Chapter 55 🌙 - Rhys pov of all that sweet chapter 55 goodness.

Out of the Shadows 🌙 - Rhys pov of chapter 48 (inn scene)

Break ‘Em Out ✨ - Wingplay.

Live Another Day ✨ - An extended look into the tent scene in acowar.

The Wall ✨ - The High Lord and Lady get frisky an an alleyway in Velaris.

From Sunup to Sundown ✨ - What if Feyre had felt the mating bond snap on Starfall?

Moving Forward ✨ - Rhys comes home to see his High Lady admiring herself in lingerie.

You ✨ - An alternate version of the Inn Scene, where Feyre admits she wants Rhys.

Paint Me A Picture ✨ - Feysand find a loophole to a wedding tradition that forbids them from seeing each other the night before they're wed.

A Sweet Treat ✨🌙- a sweet Halloween inspired fic that has copious amounts of smut.

Training ✨ - Feyre got stuck in some rope while training. Oh no, help me step-High Lord I'm stuck.

Like what you see? ✨ - Feyre pays Rhys back for the vision on the roof with one of her own.

Unfinished Buisness ✨ - Feyre has a wet dream and Rhys decides to help it come to life.

Moonshine ✨ - Feyre bathes a very drunken, horny Rhysand (it's surprisngly wholesome).

Therapy ✨ - Feyre massages Rhysand's knee on a rainy day and the two of them get a little carried away.

a united front ✨ - Rhys gets Feyre a sexy gift to wear during an event that keeps them both distracted.

smooth ✨ - Feyre learns about body hair removal and Rhys is happy to help his High Lady feel confident in her body (this one is so sweet 🥺)

Birthday Regards 🌙 - Feyre gets Rhys an extra special present for his birthday.

Something Missing ✨ - Wing kink meets the paint kink. I love this one because it's so playful without sacrificing any of the passion.

This is How I See You 🌙 - Feyre is feeling insecure about her postpartum body and Rhys reminds how beautiful he finds her.

Just Like Her ✨ - an acomaf AU where Feyre and Rhys decided to be honest with each other after the CoN throne scene.

Make love before war ✨ - A closer look into frenzied sex in the Windhaven cabin after Cassian and Rhys finished fighting.

Darling I'd Hang the Stars For You 🌙 - this one is just so stinkin cute. The desperately in love Rhys we all adore, showing his devotion to his High Lady the way he knows best.

midnight blue citrus 🌙 - a power outaged timed perfectly with Feyre being in the shower so Rhys could bravely come to her rescue.

Make Your Good Love Known to Me ✨ - Rhys gives Feyre a very thorough massage to help her relax after a long day of training.

First Time Encounters: Feysand don’t know a lot about one another, but they do know they’re both very sexy people who should do naughty things to each other.

The Rules of the Game 🌙 - AU where Feysand meet in the Hewn city and shameless flirting ensues, among other things.

'cause my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol c - A stranger in a bar can't seem to keep his eyes off Feyre.

I could drink a whole damn case ✨ - Feyre goes to a bar to move on from her breakup and happens to meet eyes with the most alluring stranger.

A Letter to Satan 🌙 - Feyre sends a letter to Santa asking him to bring her a good fuck for Christmas... except she might have accidentally swapped a few letters.

Bite Me, Prick ✨ - Feyre is dared to spend the night in a spooky castle, and happens to meet a very interesting resident. (Aka the Feysand vampire smut we never knew we needed).

Frenzy/sex-pollen/calanmai/and other mating-bond shenanigans: besties just can’t control their lust for each other

All the Pieces Fall Right Into Place ✨- Calanmai fuck or die. I put this here instead of in Dub-con because it’s set at a point in the books they both (secretly) wanted each other.

Fire Night ✨ - if the calanmai chapter in acotar had gone a little differently.

Frenzy ✨ - Feyre is in “heat” and her smell drives Rhys crazy

Hate Me If It Helps 🌙 - Acomaf set pre-mating in which Feyre is exposed to an aphrodisiac and Rhys has no choice but to help.

You Don't Know What Hell You've Put Me Through ✨ - human Feyre is effected by sex-pollen and luckily there is a generous High Lord nearby to help her out.

Never Done (At Least For Tonight) 🌙✨ - Set between acomaf/acowar. Feyre and Rhys are both struggling and the mating bond bring them together in their sleep.

In Darkness She is All I See 🌙 - Feyre and Rhys accidentally consume a cherry pie laced with an aphrodisiac while visiting the new High Rulers of the Spring Court. (Part of the Cherry Pie Smut Extraveganza)

All Mine ✨ - Feyre gets jealous watching Cresseida flirt with her mate.

Dom/sub (but still loving): In which Feysand get experimental in the bedroom

Silk Ties ✨ - Feyre and Rhys try out some bondage in the bedroom. (soft dom Rhys)

The Midnight Feast 🌙 - Rhys is awakened by Feyre having a very nice dream about him. (Consensual somnophilia + dom Rhys)

they know you walk like you're a god (they can't believe I made you weak) ✨ - the Feyre pegging Rhys fic that will make my feyre's dick anon very happy.

We're All Just Animals ✨ - Feysand run into Issac in the mortal realm and jealous, possessive sex ensues.

to take, to worship ✨ - Gentle dom Rhys giving his Feyre exactly what she needs. (mild somnophilia + dom Rhys)

Fifty-Six ✨- The Feysand mating frenzy we were robbed of in ACoMaF. Includes gratuitous use of the words "good girl". (possessive sex + spanking)

Topped ✨ - More Rhys getting pegged content, because we deserve it.

Take It Off 🌙 - Feyre goes away on a trip and Rhys can't stand to be parted from her. Rough/vaguely possessive sex ensues when she gets back. (mutual masterbation + rough sex)

say you're mine 🌙- Rhys sees Feyre sitting with Tarquin and feels the need to remind Feyre who she belongs to. (possessiveness + rough sex + spanking)

lost in the way you move ✨ - Rhys comes home late and Feyre decides to "punish" him for it. (Dom Feyre)

you best believe that I got something up my sleeve 🌙- Cassian gifts Feysand a fleshlight and some experimental smut ensues. (cock/ball worship + begging + edging + toys)

Bindings and Blindfolds ✨ - Feyre uses some new toys to take control in the bedroom. (bondage and light BDSM)

I'm gonna make sure I'm the best you ever had ✨ - Another Rhys getting pegged fic because we as a fandom all know he'd lose his mind over his High Lady wanting to fuck him.

Pinned 🌙- Rhys drugs Feyre so she can't talk or move while he has his fun (consensually, ofc). Includes dirty talk that had me sweating.

Lessons ✨ - Feyre and Rhys decide to experiment with some kinks in the bedroom. (blind folds + handcuffs + merciless teasing, they each switch between dom/sub)

all the way down 🌙 - Feyre and Rhys try out their new sex swing.

we don't gotta hide this is what you like ✨ - Feyre and Rhys escape their party for a quick rondevouz in the bedroom. (oral sex + anal sex).

Feysand + guests 😏: for the sake of time, just go into these knowing they're all kinky as shit.

A Solstice to Remember ✨ - Feyre joins the batboys in the Solstice birchin.

Tell Me What You Want ✨ - Feyre and the batboys in their bedroom.

The Birchin ✨ - SJM may be a tease but the Feysand smut authors sure aren't 🙏

A Prythian Fertility Rite - The Inner Circle orgy you didn't know you wanted

Spindle's Thread - Cassian joins Feysand in bed (Cassian's POV)

in the night there is only you ✨ - Cass and Az enjoying Feyre while Rhys watches

follow me down the rabbit hole ✨ - Threesome between Helion/Feysand.

The High Lord, The High Lady, and the Spymaster - A delicious series of fics documenting the bedroom adventures of Rhys/Feyre/Azriel.

Look Who's Wet Now ✨ - Feyre + the bat boys having arguably too much fun in a swimming pool.

New Depths ✨ - Feyre and Rhys decide to try out some new things in the bedroom, including inviting a certain Autumn male to join them. (Feysand/Lucien)

Playtime ✨- Feyre decides to take Rhys up on his offer to have Helion join them in their bed.

Feyre and the Batboys ✨ - it's exactly as the title says and it's absolutely filthy (in the best way).

multiply- Lucien decides to join Feyre and Rhys in the shower. (Luicen pov)

Summerboy ✨ - In a visit to Summer Court, Feysand decide to invite Tarquin to their bed.

Court of Nightmares: either one or both of them assuming their CoN mask (with consent). Again, these are all exceptionally kinky. Please check the tags before you read!

At the Nightmare Court 🌙 - Feysand roleplaying the High Lord and his pet in the throne room.

What I've Shown You In The Dark ✨ - High Lord Rhys reminds Feyre who she belongs to

the world fades away ✨ - Feysand attend a CoN orgy and decide to have some fun of their own.

War Meetings are Dull 🌙 - Feyre gets a bit "touchy" at a high lords meeting and when they get home, Rhys shows her the repercussions.

Till Death Do Us Part ✨ - Essentially, Rhys takes Feyre into his sexy dungeon to have his filthy way with her.

Espionage 🌙 - Set in acowar. Tamlin brings Feyre to the CoN as a means to gloat and Rhys plays his CoN mask to perfection.

I was in the darkness so darkness I became ✨- How the CoN throne scene would have gone if Feysand had the restraint we wished they had (as in none at all).

Court of Nightmares? More like Court of "Pull My Hair" ✨ - Feyre and Rhysand need to find other means of entertainment while at the Court of Nightmares.

What I've Shown You In The Dark ✨ - Rhys takes Feyre to the Court of Nightmares to remind her who she belongs to.

Hate fucking: Honestly I thought there were way more of these fics when I made this category, so please enjoy this apparently very niche smut.

Fuck You, Feyre Darling ✨ - Feysand hate sex UtM

Ride home ✨ - Rhysand asks Feyre for a blowjob in exchange for a ride home. There’s only one issue—she hates him with a passion.

Sinful Chemistry ✨ - Porn actress Feyre Archeron can't stand her new co-star.

I do bad things with you ✨ - Feyre accidentally kisses her roommate. I had trouble placing this one, but I think the tension between them is reminiscent of hate fucking.

Daddy Rhys Supremacy: Tragically underrepresented in this fandom, if you ask me. Everyone drink this kool aid so we can have a longer list.

Can't Keep My Hands to Myself ✨- Written by yours truly. A prompt heavy Sugar daddy oneshot.

i'll take care of you ✨ - Rhys helps Feyre forget about her long day by taking control.

Tempt My Trouble ✨🙏- mafia AU meets sugar daddy AU and very intense sexy times ensue.

The Mist ✨🙏 - Feyre performs as a stripper for the first time and quickly catches the eye of the club's owner.

Guys My Age ✨🙏 - Feyre's steamy one night stand reappears in her life in the most inconvenient way.

Dub-con, dark-fic, dark Rhys: Feminism? Who is she?

In the Woods Somewhere ✨ - Feyre and Rhys share lucid dreams with each other while he's UtM. He decides to take something he wants for once.

Bound for More✨ - Feyre is chosen as the virign sacrifice for her village, but the monster doesn't seem very interseted in killing her...

Where we keep our nightmares 🌙 - An absolutely heart wrenching fic about Rhys overcoming his UtM trauma and Feyre doing her best to help him through it.

Under the Mountain ✨ - After Amarantha finds Rhys and Feyre kissing in the cave, she makes Rhys keep going while the rest of the court is made to watch.

your body reacting ✨ - Feyre's second trail UtM is having sex with Rhys.

Dead Dove: the ones where you learn things about yourself you don’t think you could even tell your therapist about. These are all non-con.

King Under the Mountain ✨ - UtM where dark!Rhys is High King and Feyre becomes his personal pet.

Lead Me Not Into Temptation ✨ - Lady of Spring Feyre gets kidnapped and taken back to the NC to be shared between the batboys.

At the Edge of Forever ✨ - On Feyre's wedding night, Rhysand comes to claim his right to the first night.

Ravenous ✨- Driven mad by loneliness and Amarantha's torture Under the Mountain, and unaware of their connection, Rhys takes young Feyre by force to sate his uncontrollable lust.

june in her eyes, in her heart january ✨ - Feyre and Rhysand break Tamlin's mind and use his body to ensure spring court will have an heir.

#I now present to you... this fucking thing #the descent to hell is this rec list #see you all there #I ask only that if you use this list you leave each of these glorious authors kudos and a nice comment #they deserve nothing less #did you all learn a lot about me?#I feel like I learned a lot about me #my boyfriend looked over at this list while I was working on the latter half bahahaha #he was on headset with his mates so he couldn't say anything but he gave me a look like 'I see what you're up to over there'#feysand #feysand smut #feysand fic #fic recs #acotar smut

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cowboydisaster · 8 months

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Update!

Hello!! Firstly, I'm sorry for being MIA for a while. If anyone at all has stuck around, I thank you. And if you didn't, I understand. I'm gonna try to address all the most asked questions in my inbox here because it'll take me a while to go through them individually-- there was a lot so if i didn't get to yours I apologize!!

1. are you going to update The Fire In Your Eyes?

I'm not gonna lie to you guys, I honestly don't know. Obviously I want to finish it. I put so much time and effort and thought into every update and hyperfixated on it for a long time, so to see it sitting untocuhed kills me. I still have plans for the ending and where I want it to go, but I'm struggling to write it down. I hope to keep updating it, but I don't want to be a writer who promises updates and then orphans a fic, so I'm not promising anything.

2. are you going to keep writing/posting?

Yes! If you follow my ao3, you'll see i still post. For the past year, I've been solely focused on rdr2, but in the past few months away from tumblr, I've branched out by trying some new games and watching some new shows. I fell into the cod Fandom, which I'll talk more about in the next paragraph. In short, even while away from tumblr, I never stopped writing, and i don't plan to, I just haven't written for rdr2 in a while.

3. are you abandoning your blog?

no! I am, however, updating it to my current interests. It's going to be a multifandom blog. I'm gonna change up the vibe a little bit, revamp it, and add my new characters. I'm writing for Simon Riley now, so expect to see him a lot on my blog. I also might write for Price cause the daddy issues are daddy issuing.

4. how are you?

Im good i think!! For the first time in a while. So much has happened since I left. I moved, my dad abandoned me, I started back at uni and started working a lot more. So I'm busy and dealing with a lot, but I feel okay!

to wrap that all up:

if you're still here, I really really appreciate you. Im still going to write for the rdr2 fandom, I'm gonna add writing to the cod Fandom. If you have any cod requests, PLEASE send them in because I have hundreds of requests for Arthur Morgan and zero for the 141 boys, so I'm starting from scratch there. Also, as a heads up, im going to be changing my blog a good bit with a new layout and fixing up my masterlist and everything, so look out for that! also, keep an eye out because im going to be posting a two simon riley fics on here either tonight or tomorrow!

I love you all. I'm so excited to be back, and I'm excited for this new chapter of my blog. 🩷🩷

#bea is back baby #personal

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carriehobbs · 3 months

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Netflix and Chill

I know that the MC wakes up in their own room at the beginning of Chapter 3 in Blood Moon (by @barbwritesstuff), but I've always had this image in my head of my Marco-romancing MC, Mia, falling asleep with him while watching Netflix at the end of Chapter 2. So I wrote about it.

After an exhausting night finding Carrie, bringing her back to the den, and meeting with the Alpha, Mia and Marco watch a documentary. Marco/MC, 1417 words.

Read it on AO3

“This octopus here has sustained damage to one if its nerves. As a result, the octopus can no longer change the colour of its skin, which is controlled by cells called chromatophores. The Octopus vulgaris, or common octopus, however, will regain control over its colouring as the damage to the impacted nerve is naturally repaired over time,” the documentary’s narrator explains as the camera zooms in close on the image of a lone octopus sheltered in a cluster of underwater rocks. The skin of the octopus’s mantle is a milky white in stark contrast to the speckled brown of its arms.

For a second all Mia can think about is the stray, down on the ground in the dirt by a rusty swing set. The taste of rotten blood. Pale skin under ugly, flickering streetlights.

Mia reaches up abruptly to adjust the angle of the laptop screen. Marco shifts slightly beside her, his weight pushing down on the cheap mattress.

It’s only been about twenty minutes since their documentary started. The laptop rests on Marco’s stomach, balanced precariously and with its screen tilted ever so slightly more towards her than him. Marco’s blankets are kicked haphazardly to the foot of the bed, shoved away when they’d settled against Marco’s flattened old pillows, and his right earbud sits uncomfortably in her left ear. Mia feels the prick of cool, early-morning air on her exposed skin where her shirt rucks up on the right side. This moment is still a million times better than the cold patrol or the crammed ride home or the awkward report to the Alpha that followed, though that’s mostly because of the way she can bask in the warmth of Marco pressed flush against her, side-by-side from toe to shoulder.

“You still watching?” Marco asks softly, jostling her as he tries to glance down without jabbing her in the forehead with his chin. It’s the first time either of them has spoken since Marco pressed play.

“Yeah,” Mia mumbles. She leans her head against his shoulder, crown against bone, and watches the octopus crawl out from its hiding place between two rocks.

“I wouldn’t blame you, you know,” he says, but Mia can practically hear the smirk he must be wearing on his stupidly handsome face. “I’m pretty fucking tired too.”

Mia blinks, slow and heavy. “’m not tired.”

Marco laughs, a quick breath out through his nose that is more like a strong exhale than anything else, but he doesn’t challenge her claim.

They settle into relative silence again, their quiet breaths only interrupted by the documentary narrator’s voice coming tinny and uneven through their earbuds. Marco doesn’t normally let their movie nights get this quiet; usually she has to shush his stream of commentary during what he considers to be the boring parts of the movie. It’s nice, though, to sit here with him and feel his every breath through where she touches his shoulder. If she listens closely enough, she can pretend to hear his heartbeat.

While their movie nights are fairly frequent, they’re hardly ever planned more than a few hours in advance. They’re typically prompted by Marco, who drops the suggestion apropos of nothing in the middle of a conversation over lunch or on patrol or really any time it’s just the two of them. Mia always agrees and flushes warm all over in a way that makes her feel so obvious and girlish. Then he smiles that wide, familiar smile and she schools her hands into fists in her jacket pockets so that she doesn’t reach out and ruffle his hair or touch his shoulders or his jaw or his mouth with her mouth. Later, they hunch over Nikolas’s DVD collection and debate which movie to watch and her pick almost always wins.

Some nights, when the pack is asleep, they sequester themselves with Marco’s laptop in one of their bedrooms the same way they’ve hidden away tonight. Mia’s favourites, though, are the nights where they commandeer the TV and the use-worn bottle green couch in the den’s living room.

On those nights she has to sit so close to Marco in order to share the popcorn that she can feel the warm, solid press of his thigh against hers through their jeans and smell the scent of laundry detergent and his cheap cigarettes on his clothes. Sometimes, blissfully, they even fall asleep there on the couch, wrapped up together in the same blankets. These nights are the closest anything’s ever come to being perfect, even if she has trouble looking her packmates in the eyes the next morning because of the creeping, itching feeling along her skin that they can see through all her transparent excuses.

Mia subtly turns her face in to Marco’s shoulder and inhales with eyes fluttering shut, long and deep and slow. Laundry detergent and cigarettes. Even after tonight, he’s still her Marco.

“I can turn it off if you want,” Marco offers and for a foggy-brained second Mia doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“I’m watching,” she insists once she catches up.

Mia rolls to her left, in towards where Marco’s weight dips the mattress, and accidentally kicks his blankets the last few inches off the end of the bed where they land with an almost inaudible thump on the floor. As she settles again, she manages to resist the urge to drape her arm, heavy, across his body and pull him in close until she’s wrapped around him and can keep him near her forever. It’s a very near thing.

A few suspiciously-long seconds pass before Marco speaks again. “Your eyes are fucking closed. You can’t see anything.”

“No,” Mia lies, eyes closed.

“You’re totally not watching.”

“I’m listening.”

“Bullshit. If you’re watching, then what’s happening?”

“Shh,” Mia hushes. “I’m listening. You’re being too loud.”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Marco repeats toothlessly while Mia presses her face firmly down into his shoulder even though it squishes her nose.

When Mia blinks her eyes open again, still lethargic and slow, it’s against the soft dawn light filtering past Marco’s thin curtains. Marco is fast asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly and evenly under her head and her palm, which is curled into the fabric of his shirt over his pectoral. Marco’s laptop lays abandoned on his stomach; the screen is dark.

For a second Mia just watches him, trying to commit to memory the way the stillness of sleep transforms his expression into something peaceful, so different from the bright smiles he usually lets her see. Then she slowly uncurls her hand from Marco’s shirt and smooths out the wrinkled fabric. Her face feels embarrassingly hot and she hopes that Marco had at least already been asleep before she grabbed at him like a child clinging to a favourite toy in the night. Not tonight, she had promised him, and she had meant it.

Mia closes the laptop and places it gently on her abandoned side of the bed, the space still warm and inviting, before slipping to the door as quietly as she can. Slowly she turns the doorknob and pulls the door open, glancing behind her one last time at Marco’s sleeping form. He hasn’t even stirred. Mia closes the door behind her with equal caution, gently settling the door back into its frame before turning the doorknob to prevent it from clicking as the mechanism latches.

Her trip one door down the hall to her own room is mercifully short. She strips off her day clothes perfunctorily as soon as the door is closed, leaving them abandoned in a heap in the middle of her floor to be dealt with later. She wriggles into a pair of worn cotton sleep shorts and an oversized, hand-me-down t-shirt and flops inelegantly down onto her own bed, paradoxically less comfortable than when she’d woken. Mia huffs a slow, deep sigh and drags a pillow towards herself to cling to before closing her eyes again. Hopefully she can eke out a few more hours of sleep before she has to deal with the pack, the stray, and the fallout from the night before. She lays her head down on the edge of the pillow, what little of it isn’t clutched in her arms. It’s a poor substitute for Marco just one room over, she can’t help but think as sleep drapes like a thick blanket over her, but maybe, just maybe, she will only have to make due with pillows for a little while longer.

------ ------ ------

(1) The fact about octopus’ nerve regeneration doesn’t actually come from a documentary, it comes from Imperadore, P., Parazzoli, D., Oldani, A., Duebbert, M., Büschges, A., & Fiorito, G. (2019). From injury to full repair: nerve regeneration and functional recovery in the common octopus, Octopus vulgaris. Journal of Experimental Biology, 222(19), 1-11. doi.org/10.1242/jeb.209965. I believe there were a few documentaries about octopuses released in 2019, but, as it turns out, I’m much better at finding journal articles than I am at finding documentaries online. I don’t know what kind of documentary Mia and Marco would have had to be watching to learn this information, but hopefully it interests someone.

(2) I’ve always pictured the pack as having a (sort of musty) old green couch for some reason. The pack’s musty green couch is a real Blood Moon character to me.

(3) The image of Mia and Marco falling asleep on the couch during their movie nights was inspired by this piece of art by @/toads-treasures here on tumblr.

#blood moon if #marco blood moon

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finalfrontierpublishing · 8 months

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2023 in (bookbinding) travel

so i've been procrastinating big time since i got back from the US because i was jetlagged for something like 2 and a half weeks and was going to bed at 9pm, and then promptly caught COVID so i've been a bit MIA from bookbinding for a while. am shaking off the last dregs of it as we speak; am thankfully feeling much better.

i had the privilege of being able to attend comic con in san diego this year, and took great advantage of the fact that the usual transit spot is LA - i promptly hit up the California chapter of Renegade Bindery sometime last year and was like please please can i visit and thankfully they said yes!!!

this was one of two meetups for the US - i had the great privilege of meeting some other cali and non-cali members who were attending comic con - no photos but i did do a surprise book trade with @rhipidurafan of @fantailpress, which brought about the apocalypse great hilarity of the catfish calamity book trade.

guys... there are 11 million works on AO3, of which 70K of them are in MDZS. it should be statistically fucking impossible that we would both decide 'oh hey, this seems like a cool fic to bind as a surprise'. AND YET. AND YET! the gloriousness of the accidental acquisition of the same fic bookbind. WE BOUND THE SAME FUCKING FIC.

i think we laughed ourselves silly for something like 20 minutes straight. the lesson in a two way trade is to make sure there is a third person who knows exactly what the fuck is being bound to prevent things like this from happening in the future.

ALSO RHI'S COPY IS FUCKING GORGEOUS and i have spent many moments stroking it. ITS ROUNDED AND BACKED AND THE ENDBANDS! très magnifique, i can't even.

on coming back from san diego, i had the opportunity to hit up the LA chapter and GODDAMN, i had such a good time screaming about their lovely books and their lovely selves. i was also so kindly gifted pins, engraved and 3D printed tools, crepaldi paper and handmade stickers - THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU GUYS - YOU ARE SO AMAZING. some of the members came specially to meet me from hours away and i am so fucking touched, y'all.

the next day i also had the pleasure of being brought around the area where i was staying to have brunch and do a little bookbinder shopping and it was great.

i had such a lovely time meeting each and every one of them, my god. i didn't have the best time at comic con, which was very tiring and transport around LA was challenging as fuck without a car, but getting to meet renegade members was really, really fucking worth it and the best part of my trip, hands down.

again - this probably would never have been possible if i hadn't gone on my first Renegade meet up in March where i met the esteemed @celestial-sphere-press in Japan who brought me to eat excellent ochazuke and to explore the queer nightlife and didn't turn out to be a catfish (EHEHE) so really, i owe it all to des for helping me instill some confidence in my family that i wouldn't be kidnapped and murdered while meeting strangers on the internet.

anyway future travel plans potentially may include ??? GREECE WITH RENEGADE??? i am EXCITED and AM THRILLED AND CANNOT WAIT.

#renegade bindery #final frontier publishing #renegade meet ups #travel #bookbinding #fanbinding #my books

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sister-juniper · 7 months

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Monstrance Clock (Terzo x F! OC smut)

This is a chapter from my book "His White Eye" on both ao3 and wattpad. Basically Terzo and my OC, Lilith, have sex after a concert.

Includes smut/nsfw content!! MDNI, MDNR!!

full book on ao3 full book on wattpad

☆ Word Count: 2232 ☆

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The audience cheered as the lights dimmed a little, and Terzo began to sing. The audience began to sing along too.

"To the sound of the Monstrance Clock... air is cleansed, assembled flock.."

"Black candles burn, all minds aligned...!" Terzo sang as the music fully started.

Lilith was still all hot and bothered due to the monologue, so this song was going to have an even bigger effect on her than it normally would have back at evening service...

"To the sound of the monstrance clock, air is cleansed, assembled flock!"

"Black candles burn, all minds aligned~!"

"As the parish sighs in smoke.. enters lady, revealed of cloak!" He sang while he looked at Lilith

Lilith looked back at him with devilish eyes and made sure to make him see her bite her lip. This made Terzo begin to feel a bit aroused too...

"To the haunting sound of the Monstrance Clock~!"

"Singing.. come together! Together as one..."

"Come together~ for Lucifer's son!"

As the instrumental interlude played, Terzo couldn't help but get a bit lost in his thoughts as that line made him think. What would it be like if Lilith was my prime mover? What if we created the antichrist together?

He then felt warmth rush to his crotch. Sathanas.. I need to not think of these things on stage... Lilith noticed his slight shift in demeanor and smirked.

It was soon time for him to sing again.

"To the sound of the end of day.. mesmerized, the assembled sway!"

"Black candles burn, all minds aligned~!"

"Hypnotizing horns of ram.. paralyzing pentagram! and the eerie sound of the Monstrance Clock~!"

"Singing.." and Terzo stopped singing to let the audience sing the next few lines. He was beginning to feel a growing bulge in his pants, and he was mentally praying to satan that nobody in the audience would notice.

Thankfully, there wasn't a ton of light in the room, so it was hidden pretty well. Terzo began to cheer on the audience and get them to sing, and the audience began to scream the last part of the song.

He joined them again in the last few lines though. "Come together~ for Lucifer's son!"

The instrumental outro started to play and Terzo began to take his bows and say his final goodbyes. Meanwhile, Lilith was eyeing him up and down from the wings. She could tell he was almost done, and then she could get her hands on him...

"Thank you all for being here tonight! Don't forget, bring this back home!" Terzo said as red lights began to flash, and he exited the stage to the wings with the ghouls following behind him.

Terzo saw Lilith immediately and looked deep into her eyes with lust, she returned the gaze.

He waited for the ghouls to all walk back to their dressing rooms. Then, he grabbed Lilith by her wrist, and pulled her back to his dressing room.

He pulled his key out of his pocket, jammed it in the door, and put Lilith inside the room. He shut the door and as soon as Lilith turned around to face him, his lips were on hers. He began pressing her up against the back of the door.

"Amore.." Terzo said breathlessly "You have no idea how much I've been longing for this ever since starting that monologue..."

Lilith smiled and held his face "I know, I was blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl throughout that monologue" she chuckled before continuing "and that song just escalated all of those feelings..."

Terzo's eye gleamed at her "I could tell amorina, I saw all of your reactions on stage. You know that's what turned me on sí?"

He sighed "Tell me cara mia.. what did you think of?" Terzo said as he began to kiss Lilith's neck

Lilith's breath hitched as she felt a chill run down her spine. "Y-you.."

"mhm, of course, but what about me?" He said as he found her sweet spot and began to kiss and suck at it

"you fucking me..." she breathed out

"Yes I was thinking the same cara" he said with a sigh as his hands explored her body

Lilith's breathing began to get heavier as his hands caressed her and he left hickeys all over her neck and collarbone.

He reached a hand under her shirt and began to play with and squeeze her breasts making her whine desperately. She tangled her fingers in his soft hair as he played with and kissed her most sensitive areas, making her grow more and more wild and desperate.

"T-terzo.."

"Yes?" Terzo responded devilishly

"I need it.. I need you.. please..."

Terzo hummed in response and removed his hand from her breast and began moving it downwards at an agonizingly slow pace. He danced his fingers around her waistline which sent chills up her spine. Finally, he slipped his hand inside her pants and started rubbing small circles on her clit through her underwear.

Lilith moaned softly and threw her head back against the wall. Terzo studied her pleasured face with a smirk and began to rub a bit faster and a bit harder. She tightened her grip on his hair and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Enjoying this hm?" He said seductively

She let out a breathy "Y-yes"

He slipped his hand under her underwear, and slipped a finger inside without much warning. This caused Lilith to moan a bit louder and open her eyes widely.

Terzo added a second finger, and began working his fingers inside of her. Making sure she is diligently prepped for what is to come later. As he rubs her sweet spot, Lilith becomes a moaning mess. She is so pleasured but also so desperate for more, she needs him.

She moves her hands to his shoulders, pushes off his jacket, and digs her fingers into his shoulders. She looks into his eyes and moans his name softly before he crashes his lips onto hers.

He kisses her intensely and speeds up the movement of his fingers inside of her. She is moaning against his mouth and she starts to feel her orgasm build.

She breaks the kiss and lets out a loud moan. She can feel she is close...

However, Terzo can pick up on her body language, and removes his fingers from her, denying her the orgasm. Lilith whines in disappointment.

"Tsk tsk, you can't finish just yet dolcezza" He says with a smirk

She looks at him with pleading eyes as she feels his hands begin to undress her. He pulls her shirt off, unclasps her bra, pulls down her pants and underwear, and orders her to step out of them. She goes along with it willingly.

Terzo admires the beautiful sight in front of him. Her long hair is slightly messy, her cheeks are rosy, her lips are swollen from the kisses, and she has wetness dripping down her legs. She is so needy for him and it's driving him wild.

He undresses himself too. He took off his pants and underwear and unbuttoned his shirt. Lilith pushes the shirt off of him and now the two of them are both completely naked, both needy for the other.

"Follow me to the couch..." Terzo says while taking Lilith's hand and guiding her to the sofa

He sits down and motions for Lilith to sit on top of him. He has his hands on her ass and she is straddling his legs. His hard cock is mere centimeters away from her abdomen, and it is dripping with precum. Lilith moans at the sight.

The two of them lock lips again in a furious make-out and Lilith grids her clit against Terzo's length and moans into his mouth out of desperation. Terzo has a death grip on her ass that will certainly leave marks later...

She breaks the kiss breathlessly and whimpers while looking needingly at Terzo. Terzo's papal paint is smudged around his lips and his eyes are filled with pure lust and love.

"Sit on my cock amore.. ride me.." He breaths out

Lilith nods and lets out a small "mhm" in response. She lifts herself up and angles herself over his cock. She slowly lowers herself down and lets the feelings overtake her. She moans loudly as she sinks deeper and deeper on his length. Terzo follows suit with his own moan and he throws his head back against the couch.

Finally, she takes his whole length in her and Terzo holds her close to him and waits for her to get adjusted. He kisses her lovingly and whispers praises into her ear.

"You are doing so good, taking my cock so well..." he breaths out "ti amo, amore"

"t-ti amo" Lilith says in response

After a few minutes, Lilith feels that she is fully adjusted, so she begins to rise up and down on Terzo's cock. This makes the both of them moan.

As time passes, Lilith is picking up a better pace. She is moving her hips rhythmically and rising up and down a lot quicker and easier. Not only is Lilith becoming a moaning mess on top of him, but Terzo is also a moaning mess. He is gripping her hips tightly and he has his mouth open and eyes shut. Lilith can't help but admire what she is doing to him

"Lilith.. mio amore... You are too good at this..." He says with a moan

Lilith smiles and then a moan overtakes her and she nuzzles her head into his shoulder. The pleasure is beginning to build for the both of them, and it is overtaking all of their senses.

Lilith has her hands on Terzo's hips to steady herself as she continues to ride him. She is moaning and whining into his shoulder as the feeling gets more and more intense with every movement of her hips.

Terzo leans his head against hers and moans into her ear, which only drives her more and more wild. His moans make Lilith a complete mess.

Terzo can feel his orgasm starting to build inside of him, and decides he is going to stop it before they finish. He wants to finish so badly.. but he knows it will be a lot better if he does it while completely railing her instead...

Just as Lilith starts to feel herself get close again, Terzo pulls her off of him.

"Terzo! Why'd you do that?" Lilith says with a whine. She was denied her orgasm once again.

"I want to fuck you.. we can both cum then yes?" He says with a smile

Before Lilith can fully respond, Terzo moves her and shoves her onto the couch. Lilith's head falls back to where she is lying down and Terzo climbs on top of her. She looks up and his eye is gleaming but it is more grey instead of white.. he really means business now..

He cups her face with one of his hands and puts his other hand on her waist. He straddles her hips with his knees and lines himself up with her entrance. He looks deep into her eyes as he slides himself back inside of her.

This time, he enters her with a lot more ease and the two of them moan loudly at the sudden surge of pleasure. Terzo removes his hand from her waist and cups her other cheek with it. Their faces are now centimeters apart.

Lilith wraps her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist to pull him even closer to her. Their bodies are pressed against each other as Terzo fucks into her, getting rougher and rougher by the minute.

The two of them moan loudly into each other's mouths. Lilith arches her back slightly and moans his name out and the sight of it drives Terzo even more wild.

"Mmmm Terzo I-I, this feels.. mmm..." Lilith moans out

"Si... this is amazing... oh fuck..." Terzo moans in response

To make things a bit rougher, Lilith unwraps her legs from him and Terzo rises up slightly. He steadies himself on his hands and starts pounding into her. The room fills with the sounds of skin-slapping and moans. Truly an obscene thing to hear.

Lilith's face was completely flushed pink and Terzo had beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His hair was messy but that was how Lilith liked it best. She loved seeing him like this, a moaning sweaty mess with a face full of pleasure. His pleasure was her biggest turn-on.

Pretty soon the two of them begin to get close again, but this time Terzo was not going to deny either of them release. He had been fucking right into Lilith's sweet spot for a while, and she was barely able to hang on much longer.

With a loud, high-pitched moan, Lilith finally orgasmed all around Terzo's cock. Her walls fluttered and squeezed around him which caused his eyes to shoot open and for him to moan loudly.

He pulled out and released his warm cum all over her chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned her name loudly as spurts of white painted her breasts.

Lilith looked up at him, breathing heavily with a small smile on her face. Terzo returned her gaze and smiled down at her before collapsing next to her.

The couple lay next to each other, catching their breaths and coming down from their intense highs.

"I love you, Terzo.." Lilith breathed out

"I love you too Lilith... I love you with my entire heart" Terzo said in response

Lilith ran a hand through his hair as he rested his head on her chest. She hoped that every show could end like this...

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