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crystalflygeo · 10 months

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Slave!Omega!Dragoness!Reader-

cw/tags: mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics, mating bites, fingering, scenting, pet names, zhongli has a knot and alpha fangs and is not afraid to use them lmao, some nip and clit stimulation ig?? emotional roller coaster ngl.

notes: So remember a loooong time ago when I held a poll and one of the options was "dragon" and it WON?? well actually it was this, (dragon READER heh) it just got WAY out of control. 5.6k words and now I wanna make it into a whole series //head in hands// anyway ye have this weird lil funky AU I poured my sweat blood and tears into (also my heart and soul) idk why I am just so attached I love it so much plsss I have ideas fot other scenes with them already aaaaaaaaa <3

Partially inspired by some of @silentmoths' fics holy shIT I LOVE DRAGON READER AND I LOVE OMEGAVERSE NOD IF YOU AGREE!!

Last but not least if y'all wanna be part of my pinglist uhh I'm making one now so :3c

Part 2 ->

Strange yellow leaves fall around you all over the courtyard…

“Fix your clothes, you have to look appealing… well, as appealing as a creature like you can be.” The voice of your Master calls out harshly, pulling and tugging at details in your outfit. It was a flimsy and silky thing, mostly see-through, rather elegant, but very revealing.

You’re used to it.

“And stop looking so miserable! You better smile and please this Alpha. He’s not just anyone, you know?”

You nod meekly, trying to hide the slight trembling on your body. This will be just another bonding attempt. Nothing else.

It will fail. Just like all the others before.

Silver chains clink and tug the collar at your neck, it shakes you back to the present as you stumble forward.

Master guides you through a maze of corridors, with sleek surfaces of dark wood, decorative lanterns and paper screens. They’re strange, covered in even stranger symbols that look nothing like the ones back in the desert. Your bare feet, used to rough hot sand, now walk along polished wood with your draconic tail dragging behind. Everything looks so lavish…

You’ve been brought all the way to Li- Liu-… Li-yue? A foreign country, to meet a potential client. Well, a client to your Master. You are just the merchandise: a dragonblood Omega. Rare, unique even, “exotic”.

But defective.

Your fists clench in nervousness. How rough will this Alpha be with you? You dread to find the answer. Alphas were cruel, ever since you remember you’ve been taught to please, be gentle, obedient and look pretty, but they were never any of those things. Alphas just took their pleasure and used your body as they wanted, usually until you were crying and screaming, begging for mercy. You just hope this Alpha would give you some pity and be quick… or give you time to rest in between attempts.

Though you had learned since long that your wishes don’t tend to come true.

What a disappointment. After I spent so much money and resources on you.

Such a waste of time, what use is there in an Omega that can’t bond?

Why do I even bother with you? You’re just good for the reproduction camp. Maybe that way you can produce another dragonblood.

This is your last chance, mutt. If you fail again, I won’t be bothering with you anymore.

You feel anxiety creeping on your chest, heart jumping to your throat as the dark thoughts invade your mind. Last chance… your last chance at bonding. At proving you’re not useless and stupid. At serving your purpose as Omega. What was happening to you was fair. You deserve to be punished and you should be grateful you have one last chance after all your failures.

You just want to… to…

Tears prickle at your eyes and you breathe in deeply, trying to contain your distress and hugging your own tail, rubbing your face on the fluffy tip.

Whatever happens today, your fate is going to be sealed.

The nest room is nice.

Like the rest of the place, it is rather elegant, dimly lit with neutral colors and wooden walls, filled with pillows and blankets that had a very subtle flowery aroma to them. Small cabinets to one side with some decorative objects on top and a full-length mirror on the other side. So much different from the barren cold stone walls and tents from the desert camps.

“Hm, pretty fancy.” Master says taking off your collar, your soft unblemished neck now on display, free from any claim. “Now…” He pulls at your hair and you wince, whining and lowering your ears on a submissive display. He wouldn’t hurt you right? You have to look pretty. “The emperor will be here shortly. Make sure to do anything and everything he wants. And you better smile, I told you.”

“E-Emperor?” You pale, eyes widening.

He scoffs and pushes you back, you stumble back into the mess of pillows. “That’s right. I don’t know why but he was very adamant to see you it seems. Perhaps he just wants the prestige of owning the last known dragonblood, hm? Another novelty for his collection, I’m sure. You should consider yourself really lucky. So…” He flashes his Alpha fangs at you with a growl and you whimper again, cowering. “I would suggest you do your best and don’t disappoint this time, he’ll pay a pretty penny for you.”

And with that he leaves, muttering something and almost slamming the strange sliding door.

And so, you’re alone.

Immediately your brain goes into overdrive. An emperor? You had been presented to various Alphas of high status before, wealthy merchants and high-ranking tribe members, but this… this was probably a whole other level.

An emperor had to have an empress, right? Someone of noble birth and high status such as himself, not a lowly sand lizard like you, with weird ears, scales, horns and a tail. Why would he want to see an Omega like you? Perhaps Master was right, he intended to keep you as a trophy in his collection, another pretty thing.

It was humiliating.

But anything was better than being doomed to the reproduction camp…

Maybe the emperor had a harem? You’ve heard of them before, some Alphas liked to boast having many Omegas bound to them. Living in this luxury, not having to worry about much anything except looking pretty and pleasing him once a while. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even pay attention to you, you’d be just a glorified pet.

You could… do that.

Without noticing, your tail starts swaying after you, this could be a chance. Your chance. You just had to make him like you. Forget the bond. Don’t think about it. All you have to do is please him.

You start frantically arranging the sheets and pillows around, building the comfiest nest you ever had with all the extra material, scenting it with excited happy pheromones. You could do it, this was your chance.

You won’t fail this time. You’ll be pretty, obedient, submissive, the ideal Omega. You’ll let him use you to his heart’s content, sure you may be a little sore but it’ll be worth it if he chooses you. He won’t even care about the bond.

…Right?

You jolt when you hear the door slide slightly open again, your heart leaps to your throat as someone walks in.

Oh.

Is… he the emperor? … He’s handsome.

To be fully honest, you expected some fat pompous middle-aged man not this… perfect specimen of an Alpha.

Your tail sways a little with curiosity.

He looks only slightly older than you, tall, wearing elegant robes in brown and golden hues. His eyes are like a sunset: golden, warm, almost glowing. A red liner accentuating them. Long chocolate hair faded to amber at the tips. His scent was earthy and pleasant, subtle unlike most Alpha musk. Almost comforting and… familiar?

He seems to stare back at you with the same surprise, frozen for a moment, eyes slightly wide, he says something you can’t quite hear and it shakes you out of the spell. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, curling your tail around you, ears down and resisting the urge to brush (hide) the scales at the corners of your eyes.

It occurs to you that you’ve been just staring like an idiot, you don’t know very well how to address him, nor know his foreign tongue. So, you simply lower your head in respect. “My Lord…”

You suddenly feel nervous. This is it.

You turn around, following the motions ingrained in your brain. Body splayed on the nest, arms tucked in, head down. Submissive, obedient. Your hands are shaking, you feel dizzy, heart thrumming in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

You lift your butt just slightly, tail curling elegantly over your back, out of the way to expose the flimsy fabric covering your privates, properly presenting to the Alpha. You focus on trying to control your pheromones, letting out just whiffs of a needy sensual scent, worried of mixing in your anxiety and fear and displeasing the emperor.

You had to be pretty, enticing, compliant, and he would, h-he would…

A rather awkward cough has you tense. “There is… no need for that.”

You blink for a moment, taken aback at the rich deep baritone of his voice, so hypnotizing you almost don’t register his words. He speaks common tongue, but still, what does he mean? Isn’t this just… standard protocol for bonding? Isn’t he going to mount you?

You dare peek over your shoulder and see him sitting elegantly over his knees at the floor. He’s outside of the nest range.

He’s also slightly pink at the cheeks and pointedly avoiding looking at you.

Is this a trap? Is he testing you to see if you’ll misbehave? Your hands clench, nails digging at your palms, your breathing and heart increasing pace.

“I just want to talk, I promise.” He tries.

You hold the position.

He sighs, and then-

“Omega, relax.”

You almost squeak at the Alpha command. His voice, his will, seeps into your skin, your nerves, your very bones. You feel your muscles loosen up, tension leaving your body like a bowstring snapping and you lie on the sheets sideways.

Right right right, you’re tense, you have to be soft and pliant-

You look over at him and he’s… heading over to the little cabinets. He picks up a kettle of some kind and little cups that sit on the top, moving around calmly and elegantly as he seems to prepare something. Your head tilts and you gingerly sit up straight. Tail and ears down, curled up not unlike a wounded animal.

“Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Y-Yes!” You nod. “A little…”

“Good.”

The emperor seems… pleasant, he is calm and unguarded, so different from the cold intimidating Alphas you’ve met who like to show off, who immediately order you around. He even used an Alpha command on you but it felt… grounding. There is something equally eerie and entrancing about him and you feel yourself as much drawn to him as terrified of his imposing aura, and you couldn’t explain why. It’s a bit unsettling but also comforting at the same time.

He pours two cups and turns to you. You stiffen and he offers you one.

“Qixing tea is one of the most refined Liyue teas. It tends to be very bitter but this blend has a more pleasant taste, a little floral even. It is also said to help relax one’s mind.”

You carefully take the cup, not wanting to insult such gracious offer, though you’re utterly confused, shouldn’t you be the one serving him?

The cup is warm.

You stare at the golden liquid, small black dots sit at the bottom. This has no alcohol… right? It can’t be worse than snake wine at least.

You carefully take a sip, trying to imitate how the emperor is holding his.

It is… nice, a strong sharp taste but not bad, and very aromatic.

He’s looking at you expectantly and your tail and ears twitch. “I-It’s very good. Thank you, my Lord.”

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. “I am glad. Some say Qixing tea is for older people, but it’s frankly one of my favorites.” He stares at his cup with a somewhat nostalgic gaze, as if it brings him fond memories. “Ah, you can address me as Morax.”

You nod quietly and take another sip. Past the tea’s powerful flowery scent, you can now sense his Alpha pheromones, with him being so close and the air less tense. They’re strong but not overwhelmingly so, sharp and tantalizing, a refined foreign scent you can almost taste in the back of your throat. It stirs something in you, something warm and alluring.

“Do you know where were you born? Who are your parents?”

The question takes you by surprise for a moment as you shake out of your thoughts. Ah, he must be inquiring about your dragonblood. “I-I’m…. I’m not sure, my Lo- um… L-Lord Morax. As far as I know my mother worked at a-a heat house… no one knew who my father was and she passed away when I was very young.”

“I see… so you have no idea where you got your dragon traits from.” It was a sentence rather than a question and you shake your head meekly, taking another sip from the tea, ears lowering back.

“Apparently it could be due to recessive genes.” You once again repeat the same words you’ve heard all your life. You hate bringing attention to your dragon features, people either treat you like a rare exotic creature or a dangerous one. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Hmmm…” Lord Morax seems pensive for a moment, also drinking some of the tea. “Have you been with your caretaker for long?”

You look down. “Master has been in charge of me ever since I… p-presented as an Omega.”

“Does he treat you well?”

Your eyes widen, the question catching you completely by surprise. T-Treat you well? You are… treated like any other slave omega, if only being singled out by your draconic traits. He feeds you, he gives you clothing and education, he arranges the best matches he can for bonding, he even got you here in the first place. You owe him everything, you’re nothing without him.

So then… Why do you find yourself thinking back on all the harsh words, all the punishments, all the screaming and crying, all the… t-touches…

You gulp. “M-Master ensures I have the best living conditions and opportunities I can.” Is what you settle for.

He hums.

There is silence for a moment and lord Morax settles down his cup.

“I don’t think you’re aware of how special you are.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t surprise you anymore, he utters those words and makes your heart speed up.

Is this anxiety? Fear?

“Judging from what your Master has told me, you’re treated like quite the novelty, an exotic half-blood not unlike the Valuka Shuna or Kätzlein. Here in Liyue however those with traits like yours are called Xiānshòu.” The foreign word rolls off his tongue. His golden eyes fix on you and you freeze. “Also known as illuminated beasts. With immense power and longevity, even the half-bloods. They’re well respected and looked up to, why, some are even revered as deities...”

You? Such a fantastic creature? That can’t be…

“Seems to me like things are different in the deserts of Sumeru, however.” His eyes narrow and for the first time you notice his diamond pupils. They look like a snake’s. The same eerie glint he had a few minutes ago is back darkening the bright golden eyes. Yet, for some strange reason you don’t feel scared this time.

A shiver travels down your spine as you feel your instincts purr in delight. Protective… for some reason lord Morax is being protective of you. You don’t know why or how but you can feel it and it made your inner Omega preen inside. An Alpha wanted to protect you, care for you.

“Such a shame.” He adds, sounding almost disappointed but there is something darker underneath. Word simmering with… frustration? “You are such a lovely dragoness, worthy of every praise and prayer they’d sign in your name here.”

You’re very glad your cup rests at your lap, blushing furiously with trembling hands.

For the next few moments, he continued to ask some more questions. What you like or dislike, what you do in your free time, even something as innocuous as your favorite color. Time seemed to stretch into infinity as you grew a little more comfortable with your answers and the whole situation, as though you weren’t talking to an emperor, or even a potential master or Alpha but rather… someone who saw you for who you are.

You liked that. You liked him.

You wanted to stay with him.

You wished to-

“Alright, I think that’s enough. I will have a talk with your Master and we’ll settle things.” He stands up and dusts his attire a little.

Your breath stops.

He is leaving.

Did you do something wrong? Didn’t he say he liked your appearance? Are you such a failed disgraceful omega? Your last chance at bonding. You didn’t even get to impress him. You want to call out to him, do something, anything. Panic rises in your chest, drowning you, freezing you. You can barely think, instincts screaming, begging, wailing in despair for him. This kind Alpha, this gentle, patient, imposing, majestic Alpha who’s too good for you and yet something deep inside you yearns for him…!

“I am very glad to have met you little xiānshòu.” A small smile tugs at his lips. Then, he turns and heads for the sliding doors.

So, you do the first thing that comes to your mind.

The empty cup falls from your hands, your footsteps thump loudly on the wooden floors, soft fabric clenches between your fingers.

As soft as the lips you crash yours onto.

…

It only lasts a few seconds but when you back just a little, ears low and tail curled up in apprehension, you realize what you did.

You’d kissed him, you’d kissed the emperor.

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him for dear life. He stares at you with wide surprised eyes but you’d rather die right here for your insolence than live the rest of your days in regret.

His scent takes on an alluring hint to it and your inner Omega is overjoyed. Up so close it is almost irresistible. His face remains impassive, if a little tense, but you can see in his eyes something you identify very well… hunger, desire.

“Lord Morax… t-the nest… please.”

“Y-You don’t have to-”

“Please! Allow me to please you, allow me to show you…how…” You whisper against his lips, leaning in again as your eyes flutter close.

And suddenly his hands wrap around you and pull you close, cupping your face, curling at your waist, there’s something possessive in it and you feel slight vibrations as he growls deep from his chest against your mouth. But there is also something sweet, something delicate…

And for once, you want more. You want this.

How did you end up here? In the most beautiful nest you’d ever constructed, with the most handsome, kind, caring Alpha you’d ever met?

His kisses are deep and slow, completely unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You lie on the soft sheets as he looms over you, exploring your mouth with an unhurried pace, hungry yet not forceful, letting you timidly do the same at your own pace.

This is nice…

His hands run along your body, caressing your skin through your flimsy attire. His touch curious but gentle.

“May I?” He asks, tugging at the fabric off your shoulder.

You shiver, at his voice, as the pure want in it, in his eyes, in his scent.

“Y-yes my lord…”

“Hmm…” His kisses trail down your jaw down to your neck as he starts pulling the garments off. Careful, instead of simply ripping them apart, your heart skips a beat. “If we’re going to do this, you can use my name and not just titles…”

Your top falls off and goosebumps litter your skin, nipples pebbled as one of his hands cups your breast.

“M-Morax…” You try, shakily, as if testing out the word alone on your lips.

“No, little one. Zhongli. That is my name.” He kisses down your shoulders, nipping at the skin.

“Ah!” Your tail flickers around and you purr.

You take the initiative to kiss him this time, and your hands start roaming his foreign clothes, fumbling with knots and pawing at the fabric. He chuckles at your frustrated whine. You want more, more of this feeling, more of him. To touch his skin, cover him in kisses, worship him.

(Show him what a good Omega you can be.)

No…

You want to make him feel good and please him.

Elegant fabric falls down discarded as he shakes off the layers of his top and you blink surprised. The fabric was bulky and covered up his figure. Lean but muscled, tantalizing like honey. You immediately latch onto him, nosing, scenting, nipping and kissing, feeling the faint outline of his abs and muscles twitch under your touch. He smells so good, he feels so good…

Your Omega instincts are starting to cloud your senses more and more.

Suddenly one of his hands gently squeezes a soft breast and you moan at the sudden touch “O-Oh!”

“You’re sensitive here, do you like this?” He asks, massaging your chest.

You whimper and nod frantically, tail wagging behind you. You had never been this responsive to having your chest played with, though then again, it was rare… but his sensual touches were quickly undoing you. Wetness pools at your gut and you rub your legs together.

Lord Mor- Zhongli… leans down then and something wet flicks over your nipple making you gasp, before warmth surrounds your nub. You cry out even louder. He sucks and laps at it and you instinctively tangle your hands on his hard dark hair, your legs wrapping around his waist.

You groan again, too many layers on the way.

“C-clothes… off, please!”

“As you wish, my dear dragoness.”

He continues squeezing, kissing, caressing and lapping at your skin, leaving a couple of hickeys along the way and teasing his Alpha fangs against you as his attention descends through your body once more, continuing his trail of kisses along your hip. His fingers dip down the waistband of your mesh pants and when you raise your hips to help, he pulls them down.

You’ve been naked in front of others more times than you’d like to count. But there’s something oddly intimate and special about this situation right now.

Your ears lower in apprehension, and your tail flicks by your side, resisting the urge to cover up. Lying down with your legs slightly spread around him. Already flushed, sweaty and panting.

“…You’re gorgeous.”

Huh?!

“I’m so lucky to have found you.” Zhongli nips at your hip. “So lucky that you want me too.” He kisses at your inner thigh.

Your breath hitches.

You’re the lucky one. Completely overjoyed that this Alpha likes you, desires you.

The first touch at your core has you mewling.

Zhongli strokes at your folds, still gentle, finding you soaked as your slick coats his fingers. Your body jolts and you moan “A-Ah!” He smirks against your thigh and nips there again as his fingers move in circles, teasing, testing, before moving to your clit. A finger pad stroking it just so, making your whole frame tremble, like every nerve in your body is being stimulated.

“Mngh- please!”

His fingers travel between your folds. First one sliding in rather easily, pumping steadily as you shudder in pleasure, and then two, making you writhe, bucking your hips against the touch, pushing them deeper, chasing that feeling.

Your body feels hot, too hot. Every sensation blocked except that warm wet feeling down there, in your new heaven. Your hands claw at the sheets, a pleasant fog setting in and you can feel yourself slipping into your most primal needs. But oh, oh, not like this.

You want him. Need him.

“You- y-you! please my lord!”

Something snaps in the Alpha’s eyes and Zhongli growls. Golden eyes dark, swallowed by lust and need and you whine when his fingers leave you. You vaguely hear rustling noises and before you can protest again, he pulls you up back on his lap and oh…

He’s big.

His erection stands proud between your bodies, rubbing against you and you shuffle impatiently, nuzzling against him.

Yes, yes…

Zhongli helps positioning you, gives himself a few strokes, and you feel his cockhead kiss at your entrance, you whine and stare at him rather confused. “L-Like this? B-But I have never- This is n-not how-”

He kisses your forehead, your nose, and pecks at your lips. “I can imagine this is very different from how they’ve taught you Alphas mount Omegas, but I my dear, intend to make love to you.” He whispers, hot breath fanning your cheeks as he nuzzles you, so close, so intimate. Your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Like this you will have more control. I want you to relax, enjoy, my sweet dragoness.” He kisses at your cheek, down your jaw to your neck. “May I?”

You can feel your eyes water. No one had ever told you that. No Alpha had ever been this patient or even asked your permission before. Words die on your throat as you stare mesmerized at Zhongli. Grateful. Incredulous. Completely enamored.

You nod, and he guides you down.

It’s different like this. So much different.

You bite your lip and whine a little once you start to move, his hands hold your hips as you raise them and sink back down on his cock, inch by delicious inch. You feel… full, but warm, good. Your insides clench around him and he groans.

Oh… you could get used to this…

“Hah… ah! … m-my lord... I’m…” You feel dizzy but in a good way, your body tingles all over and it’s exhilarating, addicting.

He leans forward a bit, nosing at your collarbone, soft kisses tickle your skin and he… he’s almost purring in delight, inhaling your scent. “I told you, you can just call me by my name... Would you let me hear it?”

You buck languidly on his embrace, enjoying this…sensual experience, these new feelings and sensations. His tender closeness, his intoxicating pheromones, his deep baritone.

Him.

“Zhongli…”

His name comes out as a needy cry and he growls, Alpha pride clearly satisfied. His hands roam your body just enough to shift position and pull you even closer, hips rolling in tandem, picking up speed, his fangs grazing your shoulder.

Your head is swimming in pleasure, fuzzy like stuffed with cotton, small little “Ah… ah… ah!” moans punched out of you. You’re vaguely aware of your nails digging onto his skin but you can’t even stop yourself, you need to hold onto something, anything.

Even your tail subconsciously curls around his ankle (and he doesn’t even seem to mind), like every cell of your body is screaming at you to hold onto him and never let go.

Zhongli’s own breathing comes out in harsh puffs and satisfied groans as he buries himself in you over and over, the sound of skin slapping on skin becomes more prominent.

And then, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

Your eyes snap open (when had you closed them?) Back arching as if struck by lightning and letting out a high-pitched moan. H-How did he do that?! What was that? You don’t remember ever feeling like this in previous bonding attempts.

“M-more?” You mewl in delight.

Zhongli looks at you with a satisfied smirk and it only fuels the fire in your belly.

“Gladly.”

That same wonderful feeling travels up and down your body again and again as your moans and whimpers rise in volume, calling his name over and over. Zhongli kisses you, deep and passionate. Whispers praises and sweet nothings on your flickering dragon ears. Touches you so soft and reverently. Your body feels so hot, your mind going blank, you can feel the base of his cock swelling with his knot and the familiar coil of pleasure tightening as you anticipate it, crave it, more intense and satisfying than ever before.

And just as you reach that high, his fangs sink into you.

You come with a squeal, body tensing, clinging onto him, clenching on him as he lets out a deep satisfied groan, knotting you. Wet stickiness coats your insides and thighs. And everything feels right, just right. Perfect even.

It takes a moment to come back to your senses, and it’s to Zhongli’s hands rubbing circles at your back comfortingly, while he laps and kisses at the bonding mark he left on you.

And then the high comes crashing down.

The bonding mark.

Tears well up in your eyes and start rolling down your cheeks, your tail uncoiling from him and curling around yourself protectively, ears down.

Please no… this can’t be…

Please stay…

Please.

Zhongli immediately notices your distress, in your actions and your scent, completely different altogether. His own instincts going wild at the lack of a happy sated mate scent. “Darling, what’s wrong? I’m sorry did it hurt that much? Did I… harm you in some way or did something wrong?” Oh, he sounds so genuinely concerned.

You shake your head desperately. Of course he hasn’t.

But you will.

Your body will. Betray you as always.

No bonding mark has stayed in your neck for longer than a few minutes. They all fade.

Just like the alphas that place them in you.

And then comes the anger, the guilt, the disappointment, the despair, the loneliness…

You can’t take it. Not this time.

“S-stay… please…” You sob.

Your voice sounds so broken, so weak and tiny, absolutely heart wrenching.

And Zhongli embraces you.

“I will, my dearest dragoness. I promise you.” He kisses one of your horns.

You want to believe him but you can only cry harder…

The room is dark as your eyes flutter open. It takes a few minutes to adjust and for your mind to catch up. Where are you…? You look around at the wooden walls, nestled in comfy sheets, you see some wooden cabinets and a tea set-

…!!!

You jolt awake, tumbling some pillows from your fancy nest. Your last chance at bonding. The emperor. He was leaving, and then…!

You slap a hand against the junction between neck and shoulder and feel something there, a bandage… you try to stare at it confused, though it’s impossible from the angle. And then fear consumes you. What if… it’s not there…?

Your body is still naked, though you have been covered with a thick fabric while sleeping, as it now pools at your lap, your Omega scent and that of an Alpha mixed together pleasantly, you turn around.

The Emperor. Lord Morax. Zhongli.

He sleeps peacefully by your side, on your nest, after having mated you.

He stayed.

You stare at his handsome features, fair skin, dark long hair, strong jaw, muscled arms. His lips slightly parted as he breathes evenly. So at ease.

You want to reach out and brush at his hair, touch his face, kiss him.

You want this moment to last forever.

Looking up slightly you see the large mirror, see yourself. A tiny thing, with freaky ears, horns and a tail.

It was… good, while it lasted. Almost like a dream.

Tears start falling down your cheeks again and you try to be as silent as possible as you pull and lift at the bandage in your shoulder. And there underneath it is… something?

Your fingers trace a mark, a wound, it stings and you hiss.

No way. There is no way.

Hope flutters in your chest, your stomach flips and you feel dizzy, nervous. A bonding mark? Is it real? Is it still there?

You shuffle out of the nest as fast and stealthily as you can, standing in front of the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes wide, pale in fear.

And there it is. The clear mark of an Alpha bite, still rather tender. A claim. A bond.

You start sobbing as you trace it, touch it, feel it. It must have been hours, there is no way…

It’s there, it’s there, for real. You want to laugh, to cry, you’re still nervous, scared, hopeful, happy, a million things at once.

But how? Why now?

“Hnng… darling? Are you crying again?” You stiffen as you hear the voice, deep and hoarse, laced with drowsiness. You turn and see him sit up and yawn carelessly like a rishboland tiger. Elegant and intimidating like one too with his bright golden eyes, Alpha fangs and muscled figure. Still naked as well, you note.

“T-the bonding mark… it’s still there!” You exclaim to him, gesturing to it.

“You should let it heal nicely.”

“Y-You don’t get it!” You huff. “My Lord… it’s still there! I’m bonded, I’m yours!”

He chuckles. “Rather, I would say we belong to each other, now.”

Belong to each other.

That sounds nice.

You turn back to the mirror, still staring at it, poking it with a finger softly, as if afraid it’ll disappear, as if it was an illusion, a dream.

But it’s there.

“For years… for years I thought I was doing s-something wrong, that there was something… wrong… with me…” You cry softly. “No Alpha had even bonded me…”

Suddenly you feel strong arms curl around your frame, a chin resting at your shoulder where it kisses your skin, and then brushes over the mark. It stings but you welcome it.

It means it’s real, all of this is.

Zhongli inhales, taking in your scent. “Well you see my dear, a dragonblood… a xiānshòu like you, can only be truly bonded by one of its own kind.”

The words take a moment to process, to sit on your brain, and you frown confused, staring at him from the mirror. And then your eyes widen.

Golden antlers crown his head, majestic and almost glowing, small scales appear under his striking amber eyes, the color of burnt ocher. A large tail, even bigger than yours in golden and brown hues, sways lazily behind him, before finding yours and intertwining with it, the feel is foreign but not unwelcome. Like holding hands.

You turn around so fast you almost trip if it weren’t for his hold. The dragonblood features are still there, in plain sight.

Your throat feels dry.

“You… you’re…”

He raises a finger to his lips and shushes you, then smiles. “I am yours my dear. Just as you are now mine.”

You cling to him and hide your face on his chest as you cry. Overwhelmed, relieved.

Yes, this is where you belong.

#zhongli smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #PLS I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH????#this took SOOOO LONG SORRY AAAAAAA #idek what to say here lma just enjoy hope ppl like it bc.... it's so long;;;;;#got a pretty header tho serious business :O #LohK #just in case (?)

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welcometololaland · 7 months

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Love Game (aka the tennis au) turns one!

Going to have to beg you to bear with me for a moment while I have a little breakdown about the fact that this fic has just turned 1 year old. As is customary for me, I am actually late to the celebration (it was 2 days ago), but I still I'm here and I'm still crying and I'm still just as much in love with tennis disaster TK Strand and cool, calm and collected Carlos Reyes as I ever was.

This is not my most popular fic by a long shot, nor is it my best writing, but it is the one I love the most. It's the fic I poured my whole heart and soul into and couldn't stop obsessing about. It's the fic I never wanted to stop writing, the one that still keeps me up at night, pretty much the only fic of mine I re-read for my own enjoyment. I loved every moment of creating the Tarlos tennis AU, and even though The Ring-In eclipses it in popularity, I hope that Love Game is my legacy.

If you haven't read the tennis AU it is here for you:

Love Game (original - 142k)

Match Point (sequel - 21k)

Love in Slow Motion (tennis AU prompt fill - 33k)

I'd also like to give the following thank you shout outs 1 year after the fact (these are all in a/n but to repeat) to @rmd-writes for being my beta reader and head cheerleader, @dustratcentral for continuing to support me in the most unhinged way, @queen-saltyfries for helping me with all the tweets and just being a general legend and to @paperstorm for pre-reading and supporting the vision.

ALSO - I have to give a shoutout to the following creations that have been inspired by the tennis au and give me SO MUCH LIFE on a regular basis. Seriously. Y'all are amazing. You have my heart. I owe you my non-existent firstborn child (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE message me if I haven't picked any creations up - it has been a fair bit of time since I saw some of them and I promise I haven't intentionally excluded anyone, my memory just sucks).

Please go and support these creators on their page!!!

This incredible anniversary post by @heartstringsduet

The Tarlos Sports AU creation by @watmalik

A LOVE GAME GIF!!! by @guardian-angle22

The sweetest, loveliest net kiss by @fitzherbertssmolder

TENNIS CARLOS WITH A BEARD by a twitter user but I don't think they have a tumblr :( if they do please let me know!

another amazing creation by the above user.

you guys are so incredible and i thank you so much for sharing your talent with me!

and finally, thank you to everyone who has supported love game over the years in the comments, reblogs, asks, likes etc. that whole fic is for you!

(@sheholdsthemoon i swear you sent me a LG inspired art but i couldn't find it anywhere - please let me know if you ended up posting it!)

#love game #love game appreciation post #love game turns one!#tennis au #tennis au turns one #tennis au anniversary #love game anniversary

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oonajaeadira · 7 months

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For the Love of Fic: September 30

I've been back at my reading, y'all, doing some major catch up. And what a ride. There's a METRIC TON™ of amazing writers under the cut.

Brace thyself.

🪐 = Year of Themed Creation piece

EZRA

Kisses of Fire by @simpingcowboy 🪐 It starts with an unconventional if not favorable bargain and then evolves. If I could make Ezra fall in love with me a little over a long time, I'd be patient too...

Lucky Stars by @brandyllyn I am SO IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC. Not only does Brandy nail Ezra's voice, cadence, swagger, and world, she even gives him someone who's onto his scoundrel-with-a-heart-of-gold behavior and just barely allows herself to be charmed by it. This feels so very canon and so very Ezra and I just need to roll myself up in it and cuddle it real hard.

Saying I love you with a letter by @songsformonkeys 🪐 Hanna is one of my favorite writers of deep emotions. Her Javi G is one of my all-time faves and I will never not laugh at her Javier. But I will knock you over to get at her Ezra and this is no exception even though you're gonna need tissues. Listen. Would like to get a letter of love and missing from Ez? Because this is it. Savor it.

Lost in the Weeds by @haylzcyon Have you seen this artwork? Insert Ezra and you and you have this fic. It's a beautiful little snippet that quietly documents falling in love with Ezra, and that's my favorite kind of Ezra story.

Wild Mountain Thyme 2 by @writeforfandoms Dragon Universe Ezra is back and he is not impressed with his tagalong. She's chipper and eager and seems to be up for his brand of grumpy today. I'm excited to find out how Jen turns his cart around.

DIETER BRAVO

Fifty Shades of Orange by @all-the-things-2020 🪐 If you love Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, you're going to love love love how Dieter fits into this crossover. I am super impressed with this fic because it is, first and foremost, a HHGTTG fanfic. And it succeeds wildly at capturing the tone and attitude of all the characters. And I love that Dieter's just what Dieter is here, not the main character, but an odd problem to be solved. As a character, he fits so seamlessly into this world, I was kind of in awe for this whole ride. Aw man. Enjoy.

Position: 69, Position: Snuggled Spoon, Position: Sit on the Throne, Position: Kneeling Reach-Around, Position: Honey Bear, and Position: Froggy Style as part of @prolix-yuy's Bangathon 2023 Listen. LJ obviously loves her some Dieter. I appreciate the sweetness and softness of some of these, that Dieter is in need of some care and connection...and someone to just come undone around. I loved all of them, but props to Snuggled Spoon for it's slowness and softness, and to Froggy Style for the moment of the reveal. The whole Bangathon is wonderful, and the Dieter fics are certainly some of my faves there.

JOEL MILLER

It Pours from Your Eyes by @the-blind-assassin-12 I mean, yes, it's a Joel fic, but really, it's Tess. It's Tess and it's beautiful. Alyssa has woven a 1200 word spell here, expertly painting a picture of Tess's heart and how it works to keep Joel's beating. It's so gorgeous and I'm just bewitched and bereaved... I'm almost begging you to read this.

Surrender [chapter twelve] by @ezrasbirdie This chapter just wrapped me in the yearn blanket. Written in three sections from the POVs of Daisy, Ellie, and Joel, each section just pulls at a different heartstring and all of them together are such pretty music. Yes please this found family that loves each other so much...

Year of Small Joys - Candles by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 Inviting Joel over to dinner in Jackson is inviting a damaged soul to sit down and heal. He's still got a little PTSD here, but a nice meal by the light of scented candles he looted? That's a nice step in the right direction.

Let's Twist the Knife Again by @missredherring I am obsessed with this little "time travel" story. I don't know exactly the mechanics of what's going on here--is it a dream? is he being given a second chance? is he stuck in a time loop?--but watching Joel retrace some familiar steps knowing what he already knows is fascinating and I would love to see what comes next.

Hypothermia by @morallyinept Jett's cleverly come up with the "giflet," a drabble based on a gif. This one is Joel in his sleeping bag. And you're in yours. And it's cold. But it ends soft, and that's my favorite.

PERO TOVAR

The Herbalist: Part 7: Drinking Won’t Change the Audacity But Maybe It Will Help by @blueeyesatnight I'm so caught up in this story of beasts and strange people in Victorian England. Now we learn about Pero's past and a little more, but there's also something chewing at the edges about our heroine lady sleuth and I can't wait to find out what it is!

JACK DANIELS

F is for Forced Orgasms / Fucking Machines by @butchmandalorian 🪐 Istg Max is out to pull me out of my soft places and make a sub out of me. I am not usually into the hard stuff, but everything they write is like beautiful crack and I cannot stop. I think it's because everything is so real, there's so much checking in and trust involved, I probably sound like a broken record, but hells bells that's my kink and Max writes it so well. I will say that daddy-talk is usually a turnoff for me, but I really REALLY appreciate that Max sets the scene thoroughly and explains that it's just a title, that any word can be substituted (read the warnings). I for one used that suggestion and appreciated that heads up. Looks like someone not only knows how to write a man that takes care of his partner, but is also a writer that takes care of their readers. Love it.

Black and White by @never--doubt 🪐 I've never seen this soulmate mechanic before and it's an interesting take on the traditional mark--one that changes color when your soulmate touches you there for the first time. Oh to be on mission with Agent Whiskey when the change happens....

FRANKIE MORALES

Not Leaving You Again by @flightlessangelwings 🪐 (With Santi Garcia) It's a two-for-one not just in protectiveness and smut but in boys! It's hard not to fall for both of them--one of them sultry, one of them sweet--and it doesn't hurt that they're up to the task of sharing.

Buck Moon by @grogusmum 🪐 Listen. If you've ever wanted Frankie for the first time, naked (well, except maybe his hat) under the full moon out in nature under the full moon, have I got a fic for you! AAAAAAAA

We Came Along This Road by @insomniamamma 🪐 When J goes angst, J goes hard, and Frankie is many times her main target. Set within the world of the movie, the reader is his girl with his baby, and he's got some substance problems. Frankie has some trouble keeping promises.

OBERYN MARTELL

First Dance by @hopeamarsu 🪐 Asking Oberyn for a dance when you know right well what you're both after is genius. Because he's probably a beautiful dancer so you get to experience that, but also, it only ramps up what's coming. What I wouldn't give to sit on this man's lap and ask him to dance just to see the look on his face....

TIM ROCKFORD

Black Days 7: Times Are Gone For Honest Men, Black Days 8: Eyes Were Waking Up Just To Fall Asleep, AND 2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #5: Tim Rockford - Jealous Kiss by @something-tofightfor I will knock you down to get at Rachael's Tim Rockford. This man is complicated, their relationship is starting off complicated, and their circumstances have the potential to continue to complicate matters...and yet. These two seem to fit together just fine, easy as pie and coffee. The way he cares... I so can't wait to see what (and who) comes next.

SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

JANE FOSTER

Undefeated by @captainsophiestark 🪐 Listen. I've never played pong in my life, but if Jane Foster walked into my party and wanted in on a game, I'd pong so fast....

BOFUR THE DWARF

Love at First Fight by @ironmandeficiency 🪐 When you swear to keep your friend safe from the man who most recently broke her heart, your drunken ass threatens the wrong man. Or, rather, the right one. Or, rather, the right dwarf.

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firenati0n · 4 months

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y'all it is 5:10am, but stay with me for a second, okay?

apologies and bear with me for being embarrassing and effusive and gushy on main yet fucking again (i cannot be helped!) but I had just the most utterly garbage day connected to a particulary shitty week [insert "lemon, it's wednesday" gif here] and I was just feeling very out of sorts for a myriad of personal reasons and decided to read (and subsequently reread) a fic by the lovely @myheartalivewrites called Paper Chains.

I had been saving this specific fic for a day I was feeling low and needed some real pining longing yearning slow burn (yeehaw!). That day arrived. Here I am.

When I tell you...my ass has been thinking about this fic on loop. I need all 25k words tattooed behind my eyelids. I reread it about half an hour ago with ugly anime-worthy tears streaming down my face. I felt a bruise and crack very deep in my heart start to heal over. I cannot tell you why, for I do not understand it myself. All I know is that when I started reading, my chest hurt in the worst way possible, and now it hurts in the best way possible. So now I'm the town crier, here to tell you to go read it if you haven't. And if you have, go reread it.

Everyone go read Paper Chains right the fuck now. Go!!! And then report back to me for screaming purposes. I'll be here. 💛

p.s. the fic also features and links some truly wonderful art by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (that you can find here and here, for starters...I won't spoil the fic one!!). A delightful addition to the experience. Big fan of your work always!! ❤️❤️❤️

I will always be in awe of artists and writers and creators—you pour SO MUCH of yourselves, hearts and souls and all, into your work. When I consume it, my cup fills yet again. Thank you! A privilege, as always.

#when i tell you #i am verklempt #apologies for being fucking embarrassing but like #holy fuck #myheartalivewrites #my post #paper chains #rwrb fic #rwrb #roop recs

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dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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the little warrior (spider fic)

What if spider sacrificed himself for jake? what if his family was forced to watch him die? what would spider see in his afterlife?

based off of this post

mother/father is ronal and tonowari, mom/dad is zdog and quaritch. It just feels right in my soul. I didn't beta this, I tried, got bored, and y'all are gonna just have to be ok with that. more notes at the end.

The shock of spider taking a bullet for jake was enough to stop the entire battlefield in its tracks. Think hector and patrolcus; the RDA had messed with spider a few times before and each time they learned only one thing came form messing with spider, and that was carnage. Spider was the heart and soul of the little platoon, he held it all together, bringing once enemies into one family. They knew that touching a hair on his head would get them all killed, but killing him? They knew to start saying their prayers. The intent was to kill jake, collapse the unit; whether it happened then and there or shortly after the fact, it hadn’t mattered to them. But now there was little hope any of them would make it out of there alive.

The first to react was Ao’nung, his instinct to protect his baby brother cutting through the shock and hazy disbelief. He has to push past jake to get to his brother before he hits the ground, screaming, curses and prayers alike, all the while. He knows spider knew what he was doing, saw his face ease as he saw jake turn around unscathed, he hated it, hated how selfless his brother was, wanted to scream at him for being so stupid (he never dropped his grudge with jake, it had been months since spider became his brother, but he would never forget what led up to it). But as the fear and adrenaline catch up with spider, his face freezing up as he registered the pain, he can't help but pull him closer and slowly to the ground, trying to ignore the sharp smell of blood, his brother's blood. It’s ok, it’s ok, mama will fix it, I promise she’ll make it better. He frantically hummed an answer, clinging to him as pain blossomed in his chest like a crude burn.

Their parents and sister are quick to follow - a war-seasoned chief, a tsahik, and a healer in training - all 3 trying to stay calm for their son and brother, but its hard when the light and life is so quickly draining from his face.

he tries to talk to them but between the pain and the blood pooling in his lungs, he can't get anything out. he seeks his mother's hand and his father's touch, but he can't ask for it and his strength is waning so he can't reach for it either. All he can do is listen to his mother's cries, and focus on his sister's hands on his legs or his father's big hands on his chest. he knows his brother's holding his head up, he tries desperately to keep his eyes open, to follow his coaxing, even if he would much rather settle into the warmth of his hands and let sleep take him. But he knows it would upset him if he went without a fight, that it would break his parents hearts.

His mother is be praying desperately, unable to pull herself way from her child, but her mind too clouded with grief to do much else. Same with his sister though she was attempting to apply what her mother had taught her. His father and brother could only focus on the blood, all the blood, pouring from his chest and his mouth and nose; that and the tears they couldn't wipe because of the mask he so desperately needed. He felt his father trying to keep pressure on the wound but the bleeding went deeper then he could have any effect on, and ao'nung was trying to keep spider airway open so he didn't drown on the blood pooling in his mouth. It hurt. He wanted it to end.

spider can see from just behind his mother, jake and neytiri in each others embrace watching with distant eye as he suffers the same fate as neteyam. it made him feel sorta guilty, but if jake was alive, the battle would live on, and his family had a chance at peace.

more faces, voices rather, join the scene. he hears his dad, hears reyzi screaming, but she doesn't grow closer. quaritch was struggling to hold her back, begging through his own tears for her to calm, that she could see him, she just needed to be calm for her brother. ravi and ro'eyk are standing next to their adoptive dad, ravi leaning into his arm, seemingly numb, though his anger is boiling him alive, and he's one wrong move away from ripping his skin off and using it to strangle his brothers killer to death. ro'eyk is similar to his brother, the craze in his eyes multiplying by the second as he is forced to watch his baby brother bleed out.

its quaritch who approaches his greiving family first, tapping tonowari's shoulder, their eyes meeting.

he's too far gone - both of their respective glances say, though neither can voice it. "there's no exit wound, the bleeding is in his lungs," tonowari says quietly, trying to avoid the children's ears "the bleeding is slow, but the damage is done. it won't be quick, but he won't make it back to camp either…"

quaritch nods, he couldn’t think about how much time his boy had left, or more so, how little. he kneels next to his son, the siblings gathering at his sides. Reyzi takes her brother’s hand, trying to smile when he weakly squeezes back; Ravi nudges against ao’nung, the two had grown close, helping the other boy shift their brother to lay between them; ro’eyk clings close to his dad, one hand holding onto him, the other on spiders leg.

The sounds are so intense, people speaking, crying, praying, begging. everyone’s moving around him, people are moving him, someones putting pressure on the wound and it hurts like hell.

his eyes float around; first to his dad, he’s crying, fingers fiddling with the braid behind his ear, miles had put in himself, the beads he carved by hands, spider never took it out. then to his brother’s, seeing his 2 big brothers embracing eachother, ao’nung hiding his face into the crook of ravi’s neck, both boys desperately trying to stay strong, ro’eyk eyes were analyzing him, trying to find a solution, because he was never one to back down. Then it was his mother and father that he looked to, the pain in his mothers eyes as she prayed to Eywa, as she held onto his body as if to hold him there; he’d never seen his father so distraught, like all his strength and was gone, his face no longer holding a sense of calm, there was only pain and anger now. His sisters both held a sense of rage, one he was very familiar with, reyzi wasn’t afriad to turn her anger on the world, but tsireya? He can’t think of a time he’s ever seen her truly angry, let alone filled with wrath, and he feels sorry that his death will introduce to such a horrible feeling. he tries to focus on jake and neytiri, but end up falling on the sully kids, more tears forming in his eyes; he was leaving them again, he was leaving lo’ak alone, kiri without her person, tuk with one less big brother, again. his breaths come fast and he starts to shake as sobs force their way out of his broken body realizes they’re all here, they’re all going to watch him die.

he's scared, he feels so alone, despite being surrounded by people, because his vision is going and he can barely feel or hear a thing. he just wants to be held, he doesn't care about the wound anymore, he just wants someone to make the cold and pain go away.

he must have made some sort of noise, a sign of discomfort because the aching stopped; whoever had been putting pressure on the wound let up a little, then his dad is talking to him, leaning over him to speak into his ear, I love you, he says gently, trying to hide the shake in his voice, I love you so much, and spider wants to say it back, he wants to cling to his dad and beg him to make it stop, but he can only stare up at him, weakly nod his head, let the tears fall down his cheeks. He hates this, he hates it so much.

He closes his eyes for just a second, trying to ease the tired ache in them, but then he hears his mother shriek, feels her hands on his face, my son, she cries over and over again, great mother please, please do not take him. He feels his gut churn as he remembers what neytiri had said the day she lost neteyam. He watches his father try to comfort her, but he knows it would be no use, nothing quells the pain of a mother’s grief.

He tries to speak again, but chokes, and his chest burns with something awful, he feels his brothers tense beneath him, sobs coming from the younger of the two. He wants to tell her that its ok, to bring her comfort like she has for him the last few months, anything to bring her any amount of ease. Shhh, my child, it’s ok, don’t speak, his father comforts, not even attempting to hide his pain, only focusing on easing his child. Spider tries to not be angry, tries not to scream at the situation; he’s dying and he can’t even say goodbye to his family, can’t talk to them, his body won’t let him, they won’t let him try, it’s not fair.

There’s movement at his side, his dad is leaving, he doesn’t want him to go. His eyes track him as he scoots behind his brothers, both like his sons in one way or another, wrapping an arm around both of them, ro’eyk joining there little group hug. Reyzi stays where she is, holding his hand, and the gap left by his dad and brother is filled by his mom, 2 of the strongest woman he has ever known embracing eachother like life lines. He’s really happy to see her, he just wishes she wasn’t crying.

She doesn’t hesitate from kissing the top of his head, pressing her forehead against the mask, the gap between their faces made by the glass lets him see the anguish on her face. How’s my strong boy doing, she says, trying to smile, lighten the mood, despite the pain it causes her. He’d say he’s right as rain, just like she did, but he knew he couldn’t, didn’t think it was worth trying. So he did his best to push into her, to make his need for her comfort known, pulling a sob from his lips as he strained to be closer. She peppered any skin she could get to with kisses, knowing she couldn’t hug him or hold him as she wanted, not without hurting him even more. I’m so sorry, my little soldier, I’m so so sorry, she says to him, as she tries to figure ouu where to put her hands, settling them against the sides of his face. He doesn’t want her to be sorry, his choice is what got him here, her being there wouldn’t have stopped him.

He hears ikran, assumes the other recoms had spotted the vigil from the skies. He’s pretty sure he heard his mom say something about them letting her go to her boy while they handled the remaining RDA soldiers who hadn’t given up. He saw all of them, all their ikran too, that was good, that meant his family was ok, all of them, that was good.

Mansk and lyle had gotten close to the sully kids, lo’ak in particular, as kiri was more often too busy her own world to pay them any mind, and neytiri kept tuk close to her, so spider wasn’t surprised when he saw his brother break from jakes hold, running into mansk’s side, accepting lyles arm to hold onto as well. Kiri followed, now that she knew she could in fact wander from her parents grasp without getting pulled back, though she went to zdog instead of following her brother, sitting opposite to reyzi. Hey monkey boy, he wished she said it like she aways did, not in the sad defeated voice that she had. though one thing was the same as always, she had her hand over his heart; she said he was na’vi in his heart, that his body didn’t matter, that to eywa, he would be her child just as much as she and their siblings and the rest of their family were.

The thought brought him comfort, that he would be with eywa soon, with the people his family had lost over the years. He didn’t want to trade out one for the other, and he definitely didn’t want to think about his family joining him, but there was some amount of peace easing his heart to calm, his breath to come a little slower. Part of him knew that shock was taking hold of him, but chose to let it happen rather then fight it, the calm eased his pain, the lack fo fear let his muscles relax.

He could tell people were shifting again, which meant more goodbyes, more words he couldn’t understand, more tears. He thinks its jake at his side now, neytiri behind him, tuk somewhere in the mix (he can hear her voice, though he can’t see her). I’m so sorry kid, shouldn’t have been you, you should have let it happen… none of this should have happened… I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner. Hearing jake apologize was weird, he never expected one, part of him wanted to keep thinking he didn’t deserve one, cause it was easier to forget what his life used to be like, then to dwell on it. Then tuk was hugging his neck before he could even form a reaction to what jake had said, forcing him to change his chain of thought to her; she shouldn’t be here, not on a battlefield, not watching another brother die, he wanted to push her off, tell her to run and keeping running till she was free of the smoke and rubble. I don’t want yout to go, you already left once, why are you leaving again? She asks, and he has no answer. Why was she still here?

Someone pulled her away and lo’ak took her place, he looked conflicted, and spider knew why; he didn’t want to regret his last words. Lo’ak was haunted by what he said to neteyam, he didn’t want to suffer that again. I see you, all of you, spider. You will always be my brother, always have been, and no matter what, there was never a moment I didn’t love you, even when I was angry and even if I didn’t act like it, I always love you Spi. even if it was hard, he hung onto every word, he could do that for his brother, after everything, he could do him the decency. He tried to quirk his lips up into a smile, hoping lo’ak would find comfort in it, but lo’ak only started to cry harder, hovering over him, why did you do that, you skawng, though he was probably attempting to scold him, there was no anger in his voice.

Eventually his brother pulled away, squeezing his shoulder before he rejoined the recoms who were both silently mourning and keep watch over the vigil. they didn’t do goodbyes, so he wasn’t surprised or even disappointed, he almost liked it better this way. He knew they mourned him, knew they would die to avenge him, he didn’t need them to go out of there way to do something that would only bring him more pain. He doesn’t even think he would be able to understand them had they tried.

His last few moments are hazy, his pulse in his ears, and the tears in his eyes so thick he can just barely make out the beginning of eclipse. He knew he was in his father’s arms, he wasn’t talking, not words at least, spider almost thinks he might be humming; it's a song sung to mighty warriors when they fall, as a way to tell them they can rest, that war is over. He knows his mother is next to her mate, sleep now, my little miracle, she's crying, he can barely tell what she's saying, you were the greatest gift I could ever be given, thank you, for being my son, for every moment we shared. his eyes burned, she was thankful for him, when he should be thankful for her, it wasn't right. he was slipping, thinking about his mama took his away from his focus on staying awake, and suddenly his dad was talking, I'll take care of her spi, don't worry, you go on now, everything will be alright here, his dad comforts, knowing spider is more worried about her than himself. his dad was across from his mother, the both of them holding his hands, their own hands over lapping. He knows zdog is next to him, whispering I love you, over and over again.

his brother’s were at his head, he could feel someone tucked into his neck, another pressing their head against his, I love you, I love you so much my brother, don't- (you have have to let him go) I… I'm gonna miss you, I'm gonna miss you so much, ao'nung he thinks, then Ravi, then ao'nung again. Ravi was taking care of the younger boy. good, he thinks, his brothers won't be alone. His sisters are gathered at his feet, collapsing in on one another; reyzi’s stiff upright posture and cold, thousand yard stare sticking out eerily amongst his hazy recollection. Kiri looked… peaceful wasn't the right word, she looked like she accepted it, she had tsireya and tuk pulled into her sides, Reyzi was behind her, accepting no comfort; he was sure that if he could get his eyes to focus he would see her wringing her hands, pulling her fingers until they hurt. he wished she would be able to move on, he knew it wasn't possible, it wouldn't be possible for her or her brother's, no matter how well they were holding themselves in the moment. Lo'ak was pacing the stretch of land that acted as an opening to the aclove, he was cursing, punching at the rubble, he didn't deserve this, not again.

he saw the recoms standing gaurd as well, someone was trying to keep Lo'ak from the rubble, earning a sharp jab to the ribs, which was redirected into in awkward hug of sorts, but he couldn't tell who it was anymore.

he couldn't tell who anyone was, his vision had faded to much. he whimpered, felt the burn in his chest as a result. he felt like he was sinking away, like when you have the bad dream of falling into the abyss. he was scared, he was so scared, he didn't want to die. he tried to grip onto something, but he's not even sure he was moving, but he felt his bubble get tighter, he tired to remember be wasn't alone.

the last thing he remembered was a choked cry, probably his mother, and then nothing.

then Neytiri, smiling at him sadly amidst of bright white. no, no it wasn't Neytiri… it was Neteyam, his big-little brother - spider was technically older him, by a little over a year, but aged slower, hense earning him the title of little- big brother and Neteyam the opposite - standing a few feet away from him.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon." Neteyam talks in a way that is much older and much wiser then his age lets on, more so then he did in life. he keeps his smile, but his voice and eyes let on his sadness.

"neither did I," spider makes no attempts to move or interact more than he needs to, not until he knows this ain't a trick of his dying mind

"why did you do it, you could have let dad take the hit, he had a better at surviving it,"

"I wasn't letting another person get shot in front of me."

"It wasn’t your fault brother,” neteyam stepped forward, placing a hand on spiders cheek, wiping a tear he didn’t know was there.

“Am I really dead?” he asks, wanting to accept that this was really the end, he needed this to be the end, because he couldn’t stay standing much longer.

“Yes… I’m sor-” Neteyam tensed at the question,

“No, no thats… that’s good, was just worried… worried I wasn’t gone yet and that my mind would start playing tricks on me.” he closed the gap, leaning into the taller figure, he was tired, he was so tired. “Please, ‘teyam, please tell me this is real.”

He felt himself being pulled down, surrounded in a ligth warmth, almost like a blanket of sand warmed by the light of the sun. he kept his eyes closed, unsure if he wanted to see the space around him, if he wanted to know what would be there. He just clung tight to his big-little brother and prayed The Great Mother showed him mercy.

“Its’s real, I promise you it’s real, open your eyes.”

When he did, because he trusted his brother, he was home, he was on a familiar beach, the beach his father would take him to, it was on the far side of the village, a place only really known by the chief and his family.

“What is this place, spi, it’s the place The Great Mother thinks you should rest, tell me about it.”

“This is where tonowari told me I was his son… it was the family beach in a way… its where me and ao’nung would train and tsireya taught me the stories of our people, where mother taught me to heal. This is my home.” he was too caught up in the relief to think about how neteyam may feel about him considering someone else family.

“You deserved more time with them, they were good to you,” he spoke softly, tracing his finges in the sand, “you were meant to be theirs, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers. It’s ok spider, I’m happy that you were happy with them, you deserved that.”

“You saw?”

“Everything, had to watch over you and my other skawng brother, ao’nung too, make sure you didn’t get into to much trouble; though it doesn’t seem I kept that from happening… I watched you all, you did good brother.”

His stomach dropped. He knows, he knows what he did, why wasn’t he angry.

“I saved him… why aren’t you angry?”

“Because you were right. You felt the good in him, you saved him, and then let him pick his path. You saved him, all of them, preserved life; thats the way of eywa. By saving him, you brought them all together… and evne if you didn’t, even if he didn’t change, he was your dad spi, he did better then our- my dad… you had every right to want to save him. I can’t judge you for that.”

This felt wrong, something wasn’t right, there was no way this was going to be this easy.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You will, it takes time.”

“Time?”

“Eywa will show you what you need to know to find peace, sometimes you need to see what happens first. You were bound to kiri for a reason, you were bound to tonowari and ronal for a reaosn, you were bound to the recoms for a reason. She will show you, it just takes time.”

Neteyam was holding him by the shoulders now, pulling him into a hug once more. Spider thinks he was crying. “You don’t understand yet, but I am so proud of you spider.”

That’s when spider cracked, he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t stay strong. He crumbled in his brother’s arms, letting him hol all his pieces together. He falls apart into the sand, as his brother moves away from him.

“I have to go now, so do you,” his brother says distantly, spider only catching a glimpse of him before he disappears.

Before he can even call out for him, he hears another voice, one much more ethereal, layered and consisting of many tones; “you have places to be, my child.”

“What?” he searches the beach for a source, but comes up with nothing. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” the voice shifts, sounding almost like his mother

“Mother?”

“The Mother of mothers I suppose,” the voice was closer to what it had been before, though it kept its feminine pitch

“Eywa.” his voice was more a whisper then anything else, unsure of what should have been obvious.

“Yes, my child,” a woman appeared, emerging from the forest that surrounded the beach, she looked like his mother, which made some sense. She could look like anything, different to each person, so of course she would take the form of the woman he loved and trusted the most in his life.

“Where am I going?”

“You ask too many questions, always have,” she smiled, an airiness to her voice, almost like a laugh, “what do our people believe?”

Oh. “Every person is born twice,”

“That’s right little one,” the deity came closer, her ‘hand’ caressing his cheek.

He felt his heart begin to race, how that was possible considering he was dead, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay with his family, with neteyam. He wanted to find the other’s, kiri’s mom, his mother’s spirit sisters, his ancestors; human, omatikaya, and metkayina alike. He’s so tired and just wants to stay here, just for a little.

“Don’t worry my child, you,” she points to his head, his mind, “will stay here, your soul,” she points to his chest, “will be reborn. You will rest, but your fire, courage, and loyalty will be given back to the world. You were born to be a great warrior, it is ingrained in you, and you fight for me and all of pandora with all of yourself and all of your strength. You will be sent back to finish what you began, to the end of the war. You will protect you’re family, and you will have my guidance to do so, that I promise.”

He was confused, unsure of how the whole ‘born twice’ thing worked logistically, but he knew better to argue with a mother, let alone The Mother. So he suppressed his weariness, his longing for his family, and accepting Eywa’s task. Little warrior, gift of Eywa. what were once terms of endearment now had meaning.

“Yes, Great Mother,”

“Your mother taught well, she is a good tsahik, her and your father, even the lost spirits that make up your dad, you call him and your mom,” hearing the Na’vi goddess use english words was so unnerving, and he found himself grinning a little harder then he should, and she grinned back in response, “they prepared you well, very well.”

“They did, I am forever greatful for them”

“Of course you are, you are a grateful child, your heart is larger then most, its what a great warrior, the respect you have for the enemy, even when you feel such immense hatred. It is what lead you to save him, what lead your siblings to him, what turned the tides of this battle. It is what made you protect the Toruk Makto, despite the battle he put you through so young. It is you’re heart that will live on…are you ready?” her words were so motherly, it sounded like a story he would hear from his mother, except it was no story, not yet, it was his life.

“I think,” he was honest with her, he had no idea what was going to happen, and therefore could not honestly tell her if he was afraid or not.

“When your soul is sent back to your family, finding a place to be reborn where it is needed most, you will join your ancestors; you will watch with them, both your living family and your ancestors, you will learn to be a guide as they are and when your soul has returned to you, living its second life, you will be a guide as well. Do you understand my child?” she explained with care.

So that’s what his brother meant, he will see in time, learn what he most learn, be show what he must be shown. He would watch the remainder of his family’s lives, watch the war, watch the effects of his actions play out. He would watch his soul live on, finishing what he began. He would learn from his ancestors, everything he needed to know. Maybe he would learn from his Mother as well, he couldn’t assume this was the last he would be seeing of her. He felt ease wash over him, his Mother embracing him fully now.

“You will be reborn to her, that I promise. Good luck little warrior.”

And with that the figure disappeared, he felt something leave him, more then just Eywa’s presence, and suddenly he was alone, still on the secluded beach. He had a feeling he had a lot to figure out, and that the tulkun calls in the distance were the calls of his first teacher, Roa.

~~~

So a few things. The only people I’m sorry for right now are fictional. chest wounds under the right circumstances can be slow inevitable death sentences; I milked that for every ounce of angst I could (his death took at least 10-15 minutes of agony just for a little perspective for him and his family; they couldn’t do anything so they just had to watch him fade). Finally, the only explanation for why the siblings don’t go hog wild immediately (this explanation is for all of 3 people, you know who you are/pos) is because their civility is directly linked to spider. If they don’t stay calm, there will be no stopping them, and they didn’t want spider to see that; basically, the only way they stopped themselves from going ballistic, was to go numb, practically comatose, which will fuel their anger later.

I kept the dialogue limited to put the reader in spider perspective, he’s so out of it he can really only hear what's being said when he’s putting effort into it. Just because the dialogue isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean its happening, which is my nice way of saying; he’s being talked to the whole time, he just isn’t “hearing” it. This is the same for character focus, he’s only really able to pay attention to the activity around him, so characters are only really mentioned when they are actively interacting with him/are the main point of his focus. angst via writing style is my favorite flavor of angst I toiled with the ending of this for like 3 days, I don't love it love it, but I'm content with it. I have complicated feelings for how the spirit world works in canon (as far as we know) and how I want it to work, so we're just gonna take the mess that I created and enjoy it. also eywa is based on my interpretation of our world's 'true mother' who takes many forms and names in different mythologies; think, fun mom, who's crunchy in the cool fun way. like will drive her kid to the ER at 2 in the morning for running a fever, but will also slather them in essential oils the entire way there. is the cool mom that everyone loves and always wants to hang out with. like I didn't want her to seem overly untouchable, so I made her have a mild sense of humor. so enjoy that

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jokersfangirl84 · 9 months

Text

Words Get in the Way

A Frankie Morales x F! Reader Fic

Chapter Three

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader

Summary: Four weeks have passed since Frankie came back to your place and made love to you for the first time after you both confessed your true love for one another, becoming more than friends. Afterwards he was called out for a mission to Colombia which was supposed to have only lasted a few days. You haven't heard from him in hours on the day he's scheduled to come home and you begin to think he's not returning. He introduces you to some interesting bedroom escapades you have never before experienced, and unveils some of his own personal kinks he'd been hiding for years. He has also brought you a rather unorthodox gift...with an unusual proposition...

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings/Ratings: M-Explicit! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Nothing But smut!! Hooooooooo boy. I went out of control on this one. There are full descriptions of PIV Sex, unprotected sex (although I do strongly suggest wrapping it up), multiple orgasms, vaginal/anal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), shower sex, sex against the wall, doggy style sex, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex (nothing too intense), kissing, touching, masturbation, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, vulgarity, profanity, TONS of F-bombs with which I may have gone overboard, several mentions of cock, pussy, ass. Mentions of possible past trauma. There are sprinkles of sweetness, worry, love, doing anything for the person with whom you're in love. Characters call each other "Baby" and "My Love" many times throughout.

Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. YALL. I have done a VERY bad thing. I should be ashamed. This is the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest, smuttiest, filthiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. This makes Chapter 2 look very tame. Frankie is a very naughty, filthy boy in this. He hasn't seen his girl in weeks so he is feeling rather.....*ahem*....anxious. I can't believe I wrote this. I basically didn't hold back & let it all out & poured my heart and soul into it. This took me three months to finish because I kept doubting it would be any good. I kept getting in my feels; not only from the content itself but from being unable to convince myself I was any good at writing. I didn't think I ever would get it completed & almost gave up but I knew that wasn't an option. I really enjoyed writing this once I got in the groove & stopped overthinking everything. I want to thank all my wonderful friends for their encouragement & to all the incredibly talented writers out there whose material I turned to for inspiration and motivation. Y'all are amazing! I hope you enjoy this and hope it makes you feel the things you want to feel. Happy reading! Thank you for all your support!

Side Note: there's an unexpected twist! Not gonna say where but it's in there!

Below are the links for Chapters 1 & 2! Enjoy!

Stay tuned for Chapter 4!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I appreciate you so much!

Feedback is welcome!

Reblogs & likes are loved and appreciated!

Thank you to my besties @popcornforone @salgal78 @princessjenn420 and @fatimaisabelpascal for all your love, advice and encouragement to keep me writing and going forward with my ideas! I wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys' precious support! I love you so much! @harriedandharassed @sherala007 you asked to be tagged in chapter 3 so here you go! Please enjoy!

(Reader's POV)

You stood in the shower letting the steaming water flow carelessly over you, resisting the impulse to have an emotional breakdown. There'd been no contact from Frankie since he last texted you saying his plane landed, his luggage was located, and he was on his way. That was four hours ago. You called him repeatedly; straight to voicemail each time. No replies to your frequent "where are you?" "are you okay?" texts to him. You even contacted Pope, Redfly, Ironhead, and Benny asking about his whereabouts. No one had heard from him since deboarding the plane and going their separate ways. Panic began settling in. Sinister thoughts crowded your mind:

He isn't returning to you. He has changed his mind. He has taken Erica back or found someone else. He made love to you, gave you what you wanted, and now he has nothing to do with you.

You shook your head, silently telling yourself not to think that way. Frankie would never treat you in such a manner. He is not that person. He has always been there for you. He meant every word he said when he told you he loves you.

You still wondered where the hell he was, and why he wasn't replying to you. Maybe he stopped to get a bite to eat and left his phone in the car. Maybe he decided to go to his place first for a nap and forgot to set an alarm. Convincing yourself these were plausible reasons for his absence helped you push the negative thoughts aside. You continued scrubbing the sweat and grime off your body accumulated from cooking dinner and cleaning your apartment all day, preparing for Frankie's arrival. You haven't seen him in four weeks and you needed to get a shower in before he showed up.

(Frankie's POV)

Frankie arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes after your shower started. He let himself in, setting his black duffel bag on the sofa. Your apartment smelled like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. A full two dozen waited for him on the stove. Sitting on the counter was a crockpot full of boiling homemade stew. The rumbling hunger in his stomach intensified. He hadn't eaten much all day, only the unsatisfactory meals on the plane. He couldn't wait to get to your place knowing you'd have something fantastic prepared for him.

"I'm here, Baby. Where's my girl?" You were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the bathroom down the hall, hear the faint roar of the shower running, see steam clouds seeping through the barely cracked-open door, smell your floral body wash. He pushed it open wider, peeking inside.

"Baby, it's me." No reply. You were too busy singing along to your favorite tune to hear him. He stiffened against his jeans when he heard your angelic voice; saw your nude silhouette behind the glass door. The idea of surprising you and making you scream the way he did on the sofa a few weeks ago popped into his mind. His brain constantly replayed the events of that night. He loved the sounds he was able to coax out of you as he fucked you for the first time after years of longing. Loved how his name rolled off your tongue, how your nails felt digging into his skin, how your worlds collided when you confessed your true feelings for each other. He could still feel you clenching around him as he made you cum. God, he wanted-no, needed more of this. He needed you.

Knowing how much you disliked having your personal space invaded made him change his mind about joining you. He closed the door and made his way back to the living room, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a few cookies, consuming them in seconds. He made himself comfortable in the recliner, closed his eyes, pulled his cap down, hands resting on his belly, fingers interlocked. His body felt limp with exhaustion, in great need of rest. He was beyond relieved to be back in the States. This extra-long trip to Colombia had been a nightmare. The mission was only scheduled to have lasted three days. Plans went astray in every possible way: flights were delayed, vehicles broke down, the group received inadequate pay (even after being promised a much larger sum; the main reason the job was taken), desperate measures were executed by the guys during an ambush.

Your soothing singing, the only noise filling the entire dwelling, urged him to fall asleep. Images of what you looked like in the shower appeared behind his eyelids; the soapy water trailing down your body, over your breasts and erect nipples, down your stomach, between your thighs as you glided your favorite loofah over your skin. Your soft, delicate hands massaging their way through your hair. You pleasuring yourself with the hand-held shower nozzle while thinking of him....his name on your lips...begging to be fucked....

He began sleepily palming himself through his pants. He wondered how much time you had left in the shower. You were notorious for making them last longer than necessary. He opened his belt and zipper and wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, flicking his index finger over his leaking tip, giving himself a couple of languid strokes, almost in a deep sleep. The more he pictured you being wet, naked, and vulnerable, the faster his strokes became. He was on the verge of climaxing when his eyes shot open, coming to a realization.

Wait a minute. Why the fuck am I doing this? There is someone who can take care of your needs...and she's only a few feet away…

He climbed out of the recliner and made his way to the bathroom. Fuck it. He was going to join you whether you liked it or not.

(Reader's POV)

You were rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when you thought you felt an unusual cool breeze behind you. You shrugged it off, knowing the shower door had a tendency to slide open a little on its own. The feel of large, familiar masculine hands on your shoulders startled you; soft fingertips pushing your hair aside allowing luscious lips to kiss the back of your neck. You turned around and saw Frankie standing in the shower with you, his lips slightly parted, a few water droplets mapping his bare chest. His cock big and swollen, in need of attention.

"Hi, Baby." He grinned. "Stop ogling me. I need to kiss you now."

You didn't realize your head was cocked to one side, and you were smiling. "I'm not ogling you, My Love. I'd call it...admiring the craftsmanship."

He snorted, running both hands through his misty hair. "Craftsmanship, huh? Since you put it that way, I'll let you look a little longer."

You took a moment to admire him, your eyes slowly following his physique from head to toe. Damn, what a sight he is. His lean, virile 5'11" frame was held up by strong legs, long torso, wide shoulders, and most glorious neck. His hair is just past regulation length, unruly strands tickling his eyes. The subtle thickness of his waistline and uneven beard - perfect imperfections - making your heart swell with even more love for him. He's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. The kind of man you want to touch constantly but are afraid to do so; he's such an immaculate, delicate work of art.

You noticed he had a fresh, deep six-inch long scar on his left pectoral near his collarbone. You stepped closer to him, placing your fingertips next to the scar.

"Frankie! What is this?!" You tried to conceal the worry in your voice. "Did this happen on the mission? What happened?"

A plethora of scars decorated his chest, abdomen, arms, even on his hands. Cuts, scratches, and bruises of various shapes and sizes. This particular wound, however, looked recently inflicted, like it came from a blade.

"Don't worry about it" was his sharp response. He put his hands up in front of him. "Trust me, it's nothing major. A little mishap is all it is."

"Is every scar you have a mishap? Are they from.....her? What are you not telling me?"

You knew mentioning Erica would strike a nerve in him. You weren't intending to be crude; only genuinely concerned about what he'd been through, who or what had hurt him. He had mentioned nothing to you about being injured. There was evident pain behind his eyes.

He tensed up. Jaw clenched. Hands on hips. He licked his lips and swallowed hard.

"Baby, please. Don't. Now is not the time."

You put your hands on his face pushing his long bangs away from his eyes. His cheeks were red hot; it wasn't from the water temperature. "It's not my objective to trigger you, My Love. I'm just cur-"

"-I said drop it." His voice had become low and minatory. "I never discuss my scars with anyone, including you."

His words stung a little. You hung your head, your eyes now giving the floor attention. This is the man you love, your best friend. You want to know everything about him. Want him to feel comfortable pouring his heart out to you and tell you all his deepest, darkest secrets without judgment. As long as you've known him you knew he was never one to discuss feelings. You hoped being in an actual relationship with him would make him feel like an open book.

Frankie put a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to snap at you." His voice returned its softness. "Believe me, I want to tell you about my scars as much as you want to know about them. I will. I promise. The time will come."

You nodded and smiled. "Yes, My Love. Understood."

"Please can I kiss you now?" His eyes bolted from your eyes to your lips. "Those lips are looking awfully lonely."

You laughed. "You don't have to ask."

Frankie gently pushed you up against the shower wall, enveloping your mouth in a passionate, desirous kiss. His hands were on your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples, fingers massaging the soft flesh. You both were now directly under the shower head, the warm water cascading down your faces, mixing with your lips and tongues. Ripples flooded your body when you felt his hard tip pressed against you, making you yearn for him even more.

"I missed you", he said between kisses. "I know I should've been here earlier. Fuckin' truck wouldn't start after I finally located it in the parking lot. Took me an hour to find someone to give me a boost."

You ran your hands through his hair. "I missed you too, My Love. I tried calling you several times. Every time you didn't answer I kept thinking something terrible happened to you."

His face was now in your neck. "I'm sorry, Baby. Besides my truck issues, I lost my damn charger at the airport. Couldn't find a replacement. Then the fuckin' phone died as soon as I hit the interstate." The irritation in his voice was apparent.

"My goodness, Love. Sounds like you've had a hell of a day. Let me give you what you need." You lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, moving your body closer to his trying to maneuver him inside of you. He pushed your leg down, laughing. "Needy little thing aren't you! But not yet, Baby. There's something else I'd like to do to you first."

You looked up at him, pouting and whimpering. He smirked, waving his index finger in front of your face and shaking his head. "No, none of that. We need to establish some rules. You must be a good girl, or you'll get nothing."

You raised an eyebrow. A faint, imperceptible smile overtook your lips. "Ooooh, rules, Frankie? To make sure I'm a good girl for you? I thought you liked my neediness."

His smirk grew wider. "Of course I do, Baby. But patience is a must. Good, obedient girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished."

You shot him a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Punished? How? Frankie, what the hell are you talking about?"

He winked at you. "No time for explanations now. You'll find out later."

Before you could ask any more questions he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His face was now inches from your pussy. You gasped when you realized what he had in mind.

"No! Not that!" You tried to push his head away. He looked up at you, brow furrowed. "No? Why not? If memory serves me correctly, didn't you say last time I was here you wanted us to do everything?" His expression relaxed, eyes full of concern. "Or...wait- is this not something you like?"

You turned away from his gaze, blushing. "I...actually- no one has ever performed it on me."

You felt ashamed for admitting to someone who sets your soul alight as much as Frankie does that you'd never had a man taste you.

He grinned, the darkness of his eyes deepening. "Is that so? Hmmm...." He rubbed his chin, one hand still on the inside of your thigh. "You know what I think? I think that's because you've never had a real man, Baby. All the guys you've dated are pussies. Pussies who don't eat pussy."

You giggled. He's such a smartass. But he wasn't wrong. None of your past relationships ever cared about pleasing you. It was always about what they wanted: pounding into you uncomfortably, flopping on top of you like a fish, climaxing within minutes and leaving you unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Frankie Morales was the complete opposite. He made you feel like your needs, your satisfaction, was more important than his own; as if his main goal was to take care of you. He was patient. He made you feel wanted.

"I've been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day. Gotta taste it. Please, Baby, can I?" Rivers of shower water snaked their way down his face flattening his thick locks. His eyes still connected with yours.

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

He was quite aware of your inability to resist them; they made you absolutely weak. You nodded anxiously, realizing how foolish it was to deny him anything. Especially anything sexual. "Yes", you breathed. "Yes, My Love, please!"

Frankie spread your folds with two fingers, licking his lips. God, you were glistening. "Fuckin' look at that, would you. So prompt and prepared. So wet for me. Exactly how I like my girl to be." He circled his tongue around your clit -just once- before licking the inside of your folds, furiously lapping up your trickling arousal. Two fingers from his other hand pushed inside of you, curling, bending. You threw your hands into his hair letting out a long, plaintive whine.

"Fuckin' delicious," he breathed, not looking up. He took his fingers out, put them in his mouth, and inserted them back inside you. He moved them in and out while endlessly flicking his tongue across your clit, making you whine louder. He took his fingers out once more, but instead of putting them in his mouth, he put them in yours.

"Taste it," he demanded, moving them around the circumference of your mouth, now looking up at you. "Taste how sweet you are."

You followed orders, both hands gripping his forearm and wrist, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue around the digits, bobbing your head up and down as if you were fellating him, all the while the two of you keeping eye contact.

"Fuck that's sexy." He took his fingers out of your mouth, put them in his own, savoring the taste briefly, and put them back in yours, instructing you to keep sucking. He turned his attention back to your pussy. You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his tongue inside you moving up and down quickly. You sucked on his fingers harder; your hands gripping his wrist and forearm so tightly your knuckles were turning white. The feel of his tongue deep inside your hole, while he rubbed your clit with his other hand, made you nearly lose consciousness from the pleasure. So many things were happening to you at once; all your senses and emotions at play. You couldn't tell if the sounds you were hearing were yours or his. No coherent thought could be produced.

"Come on, Baby, show me," he said, swiping his tongue through your folds. "Show me - swipe - what - swipe - this pussy - swipe - can do."

The movements of his fingers against your clit quickened; his glorious tongue exploring every nook and cranny, no inch left untasted. The fingers previously your mouth now driving into your pussy at such speed your legs shook. He took his index finger and thumb and pinched your overstimulated clit, wrapping and sucking his lips around the sensitive bud.

"Frankie! What are you doing to me! Oh my God!"

Your body jolted as you felt a massive outpouring of your juices, reaching the pinnacle of desire. A loud wail trailed out of your throat; the pleasure hitting you like a freight train. You held your hands up near your face, shaking, trembling, looking down at the frenzy between your legs.

"Good girl! Best pussy I've ever tasted." He stood up, wiping your mess off his face - it was everywhere - with the back of his hand and licking it off. "That was fuckin' incredible. Gonna fuck you now. You earned it. Ready?"

You nodded, breathless, fighting for air after what you'd just experienced. "Pl-please. I'm always ready for you, My Love."

Your scenery changed in a flash. Frankie flipped you around to where you were now facing the shower wall; your stomach and chest pressed against the cold, wet tile. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his cock nudging your entrance.

"Put your palms against the wall, Baby. Stick your ass out. Spread those legs for me."

You followed instructions. He kept one hand on your hip, the other gripping your shoulder as he thrust into your drenched pussy with a low, rough grunt. He began pounding into you without giving you a chance to adjust to his length, knocking even more air out of your lungs.

"Fuck yes, Baby. This is how I always wanted to fuck you. All those nights I stayed over and fucked my fist to the thought of you. This is what I imagined us doing."

All you could do was close your eyes and moan at what you were hearing. You knew he jerked off many times when he spent the night at your apartment. He is a man, after all. But never in a million years did you think it was you getting him off.

"Frankie...oh fuck..." His thrusts were endless. You reached behind you to touch him, eager to feel hot, wet skin and muscle beneath your fingers. He grabbed your hand and pressed it back in its place against the wall.

"No, no, Baby. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Your eyes shot open as one of his great hands came in contact with your ass with a loud, wet slap, causing your body to lurch forward.

That's gonna leave a mark.

"Oh, shit!" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, keeping your hands in place.

"Umm....Frankie? What...was...that?"

"You know what it was." He slapped your ass again, this time on the other cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as the pain bloomed across your body. You didn't want to admit it but the stinging sensation felt spectacular; so much better than the playful slaps he gave you when you were just friends.

"Fuck yes! More, Frankie, more! Please!"

"Ah, so you do like having your beautiful ass spanked. Filthy girl." He obliged, slapping your ass harder than before; his thrusts never ceasing. He still gripped your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Move, Baby, move," he demanded. "Don't make me do all the work."

You weren't exactly clear on what he meant at first, or what was bringing on this behavior. But you'd be damned if you denied you liked it. Your countless fantasies about him almost always involved him dominating you, spanking you, tying you up, making you beg for him, calling you dirty names, doing nasty, obscene, disgusting things to you, putting you in positions that would make even a contortionist shudder. In reality, your sweet Frankie would never be into such things. He would be downright embarrassed at what you wanted him to do to you.

Apparently, you were wrong.

You looked back at him, confused.

"I...I...don't...uh...what?"

Both hands moved to your sides and pulled you closer to him, making back and forth motions.

"Like this, Baby. Come on, don't be shy." His saccharine voice set your mind at ease. "Let me and help me take good care of you."

Realizing what he was asking you to do you rocked your body back into him, taking him fully all the way to the base; coarse, wet hairs tickling your ass. Frankie trailed his fingers up and down your spine; those large hands so soft it felt like he wasn't even touching you at all.

"Yeah, Baby. Just like that. Show me how I'm making you feel."

Your impassioned mewls and sighs increased as you moved back and forth faster, your ass crashing into his hips making him groan and pant. Even through the bellow of the falling water you could hear the inappropriate sounds of your wet bodies smacking against one another. You threw your head back, not caring that the tepid stream was hitting you directly in the face.

"Frankie...I've never done it this way...you feel...so...fucking...good."

His cock gliding against your walls, along with the fact he was doing things to you that you'd only dreamed about, had you gasping for the breath he had taken away from you.

"So do you, Baby. So goddamn tight. Jesus fuckin' Christ."

He coiled his hands through your hair giving it a gentle tug, looking down at the junction of your bodies. "God I missed this pussy. I never want to go this long without it again."

"Me too, My Love." You uttered a pleased hum. "God I love the way your cock feels inside of me. My pussy felt so empty without it."

He chuckled. "Tell me something, Baby. Do you always want to be fucked like this?"

Nodding was the only response you could give; words stolen by sobs and wails as he moved his hips against your ass faster.

"Did you mean it when you said you'd do anything for me?"

Nod.

"Were you being truthful in saying you'd always dreamed of belonging to me?"

Nod.

He slapped your ass once more, a hand still in your hair, making you shriek as he tugged harder.

"Words, Baby!" Slap. "Vocalize!" Slap. "I need to hear you say it!" Slap.

You were definitely going to have handprints on your ass later.

"Yes!" You wheezed. "My Love, Yes! I want to belong to you! Fucking own me!"

The way you moaned those last two words made him laugh. "You want me to own you, you say?"

"Yes!" you answered without hesitation. "In every sense of the word!"

His lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good girl. That's the answer I was expecting." He let go of your hair and spun you around to where you were now facing him.

"Hold on to me, Baby. It's okay, I got you." He placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up effortlessly, pinning you against the shower wall with his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your ankles crossed, one arm flung around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder. Within seconds he was back inside you fucking you like his life depended on it, his vigorous thrusting forcing your body up and down, lifting, falling. His face deposited in your neck, licking, kissing, sucking every inch of skin between your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, mouth open, desperate cries filling your tiny bathroom. You're so full of him, his cock so deep inside you touching every nerve, every tendril, every fiber, every corner. The head of him pressing the switch within you that made you lose all modesty, all control.

"Oh, God, yes! Harder, My Love! Harder!" You were basically shouting the words. "Fuck me like you own me!"

He growled and hissed in your ear as the brutality of his thrusts intensified. His fingers and hands squeezing your skin so tightly you were certain you'd be left with marks, bruises, fingerprints. The pain, the pleasure; it was all equally too much and not enough. It was fucking magnificent; leaving your mind in shambles.

"Yes, Baby, yes!" he panted. I fuckin' love hearing you talk this way. So fuckin' dirty."

He was now looking at you, eyes hazy with pleasure, mouth open. "Gonna cum soon, Baby. Where do you want it? Inside?"

"Yes!" You cried, locking your eyes with his. "You don't need permission! Just fuckin' do it! Cum inside me, please!"

A smile spread across his lips, a satisfied twinkle gleaming in his eye. "You are so fuckin' perfect, Baby, I swear. Fuckin' made for me." He put an index finger in his mouth and, without warning, pushed it repeatedly inside your asshole -while still fucking you into oblivion.

"Frankie!" You practically screamed his name. "That's...oh fuck...what the fuck! That's too much! I can't-"

"-You can take it, Baby. I know you can. Show me. Don't hold back."

No way was he going to make you cum twice. That was impossible; only something you'd seen in movies and TV. Something that always suspends your disbelief, making you scoff and roll your eyes. But this? Imminent. You were going to have multiple orgasms in one night for the first time ever in your life. Then he stuck another finger inside your ass. And that was it; the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, the needle bursting the tiny pleasure-filled bubble in your stomach, the surge of electricity pulsing through your veins. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck , fingertips kneading, clawing into the flesh of his back holding on for dear life.

Frankie gave one last forceful buck of his hips as he spilled into you, an orchestra of explicit noises and words coming from the both of you. You could feel the concoction of warm liquids between your thighs shooting up into you like fireworks. Your vision was now a swirling sea of unrecognizable colors. Your head collapsed on his shoulder, his chin on yours, chests heaving against each other's, breaths coming and going in quick intervals.

"I love you so much, Frankie" you finally managed to say after what seemed like an eternity of silence. "You make me feel things I had no idea I could feel."

You felt him smile against your neck. "I love you too, Baby. I always knew I'd be the one to broaden your horizons."

You embraced him tighter running your hands up and down his back. "I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new to me."

"Likewise, Baby." Frankie removed his hands from the back of your thighs and set you on your feet. You felt like a newborn fawn, legs wobbly, unable to keep your balance. You both laughed as you held on to his forearms for support until you could stand on your own. He shut the water off and opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the white feathery bath mat.

"Meet me in the living room after you're dressed," he said as he grabbed a towel off the bathroom door hook and gathered his clothes off the floor. "I have a surprise for you."

**************************

After changing into leggings and a spaghetti-strap shirt, you found Frankie sitting on the sofa, his phone in one hand, thumb swiping up and down in quick strokes, dark bottle of beer in the other taking long swigs, eyes never leaving the device screen. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, unfastened belt hanging loosely between his legs. His red T-shirt clung to his still-damp skin, portraying each sculpted muscular detail, his moist capless hair an unkempt mess, strands pointing in every direction. You stood at the end of the hallway watching him, leaning your shoulder against the wall, staring, struggling to process what had just taken place in your shower. You had difficulty wrapping your head around the fact that it actually happened; not in one of your fantasy scenarios. Frankie Morales, who you've wanted since the first day you laid eyes on him, was now your lover, your partner; your companion. The one who showed you pleasures you didn't know you wanted or needed. The one who unlocked your passion and freed your mind to explore the depths of your darkest sexual desires.

Your lover. That sounded so forbidden, so taboo.

Frankie looked up from his phone and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "There's my girl. You disappeared from me. I didn't think you'd come back." He took another sip of beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on over here so I can give you your surprise."

You took the empty seat next to him. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a small, flat purple gift box wrapped in pink ribbon and placed it in your hands.

"This is for you, Baby. Open it."

"You bought me a gift?"

He nodded, his eyes wide and full of anticipation, an anxious smile across his lips. "Of course. You're my girl. I need to spoil you."

Inside was a thin, black leather choker necklace adorned with numerous diamond-shaped crystals. A sterling silver heart pendant hung from a small chain on the facade, and it fastened like a belt in the back. You didn't wear much jewelry, earrings occasionally. He knew this, which made it a little unclear as to why this would be a gift choice. But you found it to be beautiful. Elegant. Racy.

After a few moments it hit you; the purpose of the gift. You were his. He owns you. You belong to him. He wants it to be shown.

"Frankie, it's lovely. But...I don't wear neck-."

"-You do now," he interrupted. "I want you to wear it as a symbol of my ownership of you. You want to be mine in every possible way? Wearing this necklace will seal that deal."

You stared at the piece of jewelry in your hands, trying to believe what you had just heard; your mind devoid of words.

He scooted closer to you, putting a hand under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "If you think it's excessive, Baby, you don't-"

"-Yes", you answered. "I'll wear it and I'll never take it off. Whatever it takes to make you happy, My Love, I'll do it." You took the accessory out of its box, ready to put it on. Frankie eagerly took it from your hands, his eyes lighting up. "Please, let me do it."

He leaned forward reaching across you to fasten the choker, his cheek brushing against yours, lips next to your ear. "You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered once the necklace was fully around your neck. A hand trailed down your body, between your legs, inside your panties. "This pussy-this body-is mine now." His fingers started rubbing at your clit, making you cry out. "I can do whatever I want with it. Clear?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. "Fraaannnkkkiiiiieeee..."

"Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?" His lips were still against your ear. "About being a good girl and getting punished for being bad? You must follow them now that you're wearing this necklace. You must obey."

He slipped a finger inside you, moving the digit so rapidly you could hear the vulgar squelching noises, making you squirm. You grabbed his arm. "Frankie!" you moaned. "Yes! I'll do whatever you say, My Love! I'm all yours!"

He grinned, his eyes rich with contentment. His lips crashed into yours, tongue delving into your mouth. Your arms found their way around his neck, your legs moving onto the sofa so you could lie on your back outstretched. Frankie lowered himself onto you, positioning himself between your legs, still dressed, lips never leaving yours, still fingering you like it would be a crime if he stopped, making you hum and whimper. The other hand caressed your still-clothed thigh and leg.

"Gonna cum for me again, are you, Baby?" he asked against your lips. "Are you gonna squirt all over my-"

There was a knock at the door, making Frankie stop the delicious makeout session and look up in confusion. He looked down at you, also perplexed.

"Expecting company?"

You shook your head.

Another knock, this time much louder.

"Want me to see who it is?"

"No, I'll get it." You stood up and made your way to the door located right next to the sofa. You opened it, and the color drained out of your face. Your heart sank.

There she was. Fucking. Erica. Hands pressed on her hips, looking as perfectly put together as always. Black hair, flawless makeup, tight dress, menacing green eyes. The only difference from when you last saw her was now she looked like there had been way too much time spent in a tanning bed and too many collagen injections in her lips. She impatiently tapped her high-heeled foot on the outside concrete floor, her mouth sewn into an angry frown.

"Where is he?" Her voice was eerily stern, lacking emotion. "I know Francisco is here somewhere. Where the fuck is he?!"

You put your finger up. "First of all, Erica, hello to you too. Second, don't come at me with that attitude. Third, what makes you think he would be here?"

Erica rolled her eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Because his fucking truck is parked out front, dumbass."

"Don't you fuckin' dare speak to her like that." Frankie growled as he walked up next to you, casually throwing his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. "You lookin' for me, Erica? Well, here I am. The hell do you want?"

Erica's eyes switched between you and Frankie, looking you both up and down, noticing your still wet locks, flushed cheeks, his shirt worn inside out and unbuttoned jeans. She shook her head, her eyes on the ground, sarcastic laughter seeping through her lips.

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You two fucked, didn't you?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "You shouldn't ask questions to which you know the answers."

She cut her eyes to you. "I suppose you think he's your boyfriend now? That he loves you?"

"Erica, I'm not gonna ask you again." Frankie piped in before you could give her an answer. "Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?"

His acerbic tone made you take a step an inch away but he still kept his arm on your shoulder. You looked at him while he kept his eyes on Erica. His brow furrowed, lips pursed, jaw tightened, veins in his neck made their appearance, heavy breathing commenced through his nose. His other hand formed into a fist.

Erica pointed a manicured accusatory finger at him. "You. You son-of-a-bitch. You and I need to talk."

(To Be Continued....)

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chunkypossum · 12 days

Text

Come Hel or High Lord: Ch 15

Chapter 15: Returning the Favor

Words: 8700 (real chunky bby)

Reminder: This is a crossover between all SJM series. So spoilers for TOG, ACOTAR, and CC

Summary:

I don't know where all this plot came from but if y'all could look past the fact that it's held together with two pieces of chewed up gum and some glitter that would be great. Just here for the vibes...

More of the snippet below the cut. Read on Ao3

Azriel slumped down onto the sharp shards of slate at the edge of the lake and looked out at it’s glassy surface. It was more than a little reckless coming here of all places after what he had just done, but it’s the only place he wanted to be. Going home wasn’t an option until he had calmed down and he couldn’t stand the thought of being around another living soul anyway. Shame washed over him and he buried his face in his palms, pressing them tightly into his eyes. Then he began to laugh. Laughing at himself, his situation, the past, he didn’t know, it didn't really matter all that much but he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t until he found himself pounding into the slate with bloody fists, that he snapped back into his body, letting his mania of laughter subside in gulps as he worked to calm himself.

The blood dripped lazily from the ends of his fingers as Azriel stood and walked to the edge of the lake. The water would be freezing but he felt numb anyway and needed to wash the blood from his hands. Just as the tips of his fingers skimmed the water, Azriel felt a burst of power split his mind down the middle. He fell backward from his crouch, clutching the sides of his skull. Feyre was screaming into his head. AZRIEL PLEASE AZ WHERE ARE YOU What’s wrong? His panicked thoughts raced out to meet her but he found only empty space. FEYRE?! Nothing. Fuck. Azriel took a deep, calming breath, readying his shadows to take him to the River House when she found him again. HOUSE OF WIND… NOWHERE ELSE Feyre. What’s going on? Az… you’re too far away .. I can’t .. Feyre I’m here, I’m here. His heart was racing and he didn’t want to leave until it was clear what she needed from him. Go … House of Wind …. She must have been expending a tremendous amount of energy to communicate with him from such a distance. It’s why her message was broken into pieces. I’m coming Feyre! He screamed down the weakening link between their minds, hoping she heard it. Briefly, he thought about running back to Eris, wanting to tell him something was happening and to … to what? Be safe? Help him? Azriel let out a rattled breath, shaking his head at his stupidity and willed his shadows to take him directly to the House of Wind. It was too far of a jump with the house wards to also contend with but he poured raw magic from his siphons into the jump, impressing upon them that they had to make it work. There wasn’t time. In a mass of black and cobalt, magic swirled around him, lifting his sweaty, blood-coated curls from where they were plastered to his face. His hazel eyes crackled with energy as it built up in his veins, his body preparing to move and with a shuddering boom, he was gone.

This is a cross over fic so a giant cast of characters and a big stupid storyline but Azris is my main bitch in this fic so ... Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77

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muzzledrum · 2 years

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"take me slow" prt 1

hey this is my first fic so I hope y'all enjoy its only the first chapter but there are plenty more chapters to come!

Papa Copia X female reader (kept it vague but she is taller than him)

warnings: fluff (teeny weeny angst) nudity, no smut yet, slow burn maybe?

she sings in the bathroom as Copia comes home from his first tour and is a little too eager to please. (shes singing "hey lover by the daughters of eve and dedicated to the one I love by the mamma's and the papa's)

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It had just been the start of Papa’s reign, and to say that she was worried was an understatement. She loved her cardinal deeply, his dedication and enthusiasm was always something she held close in her heart. But the transition still felt so stark, so abrupt. As if he wasn’t swamped in work already as it was. But now it seemed like it was drowning him, swallowing him whole. She missed the time they spent together but those recently had become far and few, only brief hand squeezes and smiles were what they could afford.

She loved copia, she loved him just as full and passionately as she did when he was a cardinal, she read hundreds of Latin scriptures to help him in his work and was never endingly patient, always offering her help with two cups of coffee as a bribe. No matter how snippy and frustrated Copia got she was never endingly patient. Which was the first quality he fell in love with.

He had been gone for some time, it was his first tour as papa his first tour she thought, she smiled wanting to laugh. She was lonely but her pride for her lover always settled the isolating thoughts far away from her day to day strains. She mentally pushed aside her storm of thoughts and went to their shared bathroom. It was clean but criminally cluttered with mostly her things, she mumbled to herself that she’d clean it before papa returned, whenever that was. She sang to herself quietly while she started the shower “hey lover, I love you just the way you are” she sang not caring on the quality of her voice, letting it carry and bounce on the warming marble walls as a fog of mist grew in the bathroom.

His heels clipped against the floor, the crisp click against the cold floors echoed quietly. “Only a little more” he kept thinking to himself. He kept his posture tall, his strides full of grace and pride. However he knew he wasn’t fooling a soul. His hair disheveled, his papal paint blurring, the paint on his lips worn completely off. His shirt was mostly open, tie tucked in his pocket and his vest lost somewhere on the tour bus, his suspenders drooped down from his waist only swaying slowly as he walked. He needed her. Like a chant and praise in his mind it called him home to her arms, the massive winding corridors being a labyrinth that never seemed to end was starting to become frustrating to him as his pace quickened. He mumbled to himself, still a habit carried over from his years as cardinal “a left here, up the stairs and I’m home” he nearly ran up the steps, his pants were restricting his movements and he was finally at his breaking point. How could he go through all these tours jumping and prancing about but these stairs are what did him in? It was only quick thought as he huffed out a breath. He felt life pour back into him as he saw the lights on under his bedroom door. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. It was empty. He frowned and was about to undress when he heard it, he froze and held his breath.

Her singing carried through the hall into the bedroom. “You don’t have to be a star, hey lover why don’t you treat me right and be with me tonight. Just give me true love and understanding” she swayed back and forth under the inviting water, scrubbing away the soap in her hair she smiled. He pulled off his gloves and tossed them on his desk. Putting his hands on the edge of the desk he leaned his weight on them before tilting his head back, listening. He swam in his thoughts. “She sings so pretty. Have I ever heard her sing? Has she always sang so beautifully? Of course she had, she is my beautiful star, and now my loving song bird” he contemplated his poetic thoughts half humorously before he rocked back onto his feet and walked into the bathroom. He peered in just in time to see her wrap a towel around her figure. “So perfect so sweet and beautiful” he genuinely believed she was the universe’s one gift to him. That asmodeus, satanas and lucifer themselves forged her in their grace. Every demon gifting her each beautiful quality she lives for. He smiled, ear to ear shamelessly. quickly enraptured by her songs, a siren right under his nose this whole time. She was his lover, his star in the night and his sun in the cosmos. And never had he wanted a prime mover more and for it to be her. She was absolutely oblivious as she went behind the shower wall to brush out her hair. He sat on the side of the bathtub and leaned his head back. Not quite ready to disturb this private moment of hers, he looked to the counters and gave a hopeless smile. Seeing the clutter of makeup, clothes and odd end items splayed over the open space. He sighed to himself and pulled his weary bones back up and walked over to the wall. leaned against it and crossed one leg over the other, slightly curious on how long it would take her to notice.

She tugged at a rather violent knot in her hair, which quickly turned into yanking. She lifted her head and paused. In the fog of the mirror, a ghastly ghost of a man stood behind her. She set the brush down and held eye contact in the mirror. “How long have you been staring?” She quipped, a smile breaking over her face “long enough, my song bird” he was shamelessly grinning as he took a long stride forward. She turned and held her arms out, which he gladly snaked his arms around her waist. Putting her arms around his neck gently she looked up at him with nothing but warmth and leaned to touch their foreheads together. “I missed you so much Y/N, so, so much I needed my home” he admitted as he pulled her closer and slid his hands up her back. “I know, Copia. But we’re here now.” She reminded him gently and broke the touch to look into his split eyes. The paint on his face smeared in the fog of the room, she reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand, rubbing her thumb gently across the paint. He closed his eyes slowly and leaned the weight of his head into her hand, letting one of his hands drift up and hold hers. He turned his head and kissed her palm, looking back up into her eyes and softened his gaze. He was home, he was foolishly in love, absolutely smitten and this was his home. He pulled her hand away and leaned close, looking up for silent permission to kiss her. She smiled and leaned forward to meet his lips. Then he kissed her slowly, his arms wrapped around her pulling her close. Her kiss was so sweet and tender. They both pulled away and copia gazed up into her eyes. A small white blotch smudged across her forehead within only a few moments she was already marked in paint. He couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he smudged the white blotch with his thumb. He looked over to the counter and looked back at her. “Would you mind showering again my love? This time with your papa? Perhaps a bath?” His tone breaking. Up until this moment he held to hiding his exhaustion. But her look softened as she paused for a moment. “I think that we can arrange that, I'll get the bath started. How does that sound?” She slinked away before he could respond and twisted the handles, water rushed out and filled the room with the sound. He looked over, his face slacking and giving away his total defeat. He was ready to lay down and pull her close in sleep. But he slumped his shirt off and let it crumble to the floor, he pulled the lace from his trousers and peeled them off taking to kicking them aside. He kicked his socks off and was left in his boxers. When he looked back up she held a cloth and dipped it into the warm bath water, she crooked her finger and he felt himself sulk over her, exhaustion dragging his feet as he kneeled in front of the bathtub. She wrung the rag and lifted it up to his face. Already falling into the habit he looked up and closed his eyes as she planted the cloth on him and gently wiped the paint away. He let out a shuddering sigh as she worked the paint and sweat away. “Copia?” He only made a small sound in response as she set the rag down and let him come to his feet.

“You can be tired, you don't have to be strong just let me love you tonight okay?” He looked to the ground and sighed “sí, you’re so kinda mia stella. So kind” he reached out and squeezed her hand before reaching down and pulling his boxers off. The air felt freezing now and he pulled at her robes “y/n…don’t keep me waiting please?”copias eyes were a plea enough, She only nodded and pulled the robes off. She held her hand out and helped him into the bath before she followed behind him. They sank into the water, already being clean she didn’t waste time to pour soap into her hands. “Tilt your head back please?” He leaned back and poured water over his head before staying still. She lathered his hair in soap, scrubbing gentle circles into his scalp and into the base of his neck. He groaned and the breath he was holding was let out in a small whine. He gripped the edge of the tub and relaxed. “Oh cara mia, you spoil me” she worked her way down to his shoulders. He lifted his chest letting out heavenly sounds as he pushed back into her hands. “I can stop if you want. A spoiled papa is a bad papa” she quipped. He turned, giving the most offended look he could muster. Before he could respond she twisted into the knot on his shoulder blade. He grit his teeth and out of a growing need he bucked his hips. He sat up and turned to drink in her figure. Slowly he reached up to kiss her, this time it wasnt slow. It was harsh and he already was prodding her lip to let him in. He glided his hands up her arms over her breasts. She broke away and pushed him back, he looked down confused. “My love? What's wrong?” He mumbled it softly, a tinge of hurt seeping into his voice. “You don’t want this copia, not right now” she pressed her hand on his chest as he kneeled back on his haunches. “Is it that time of the month? You know I don’t mind when it happens, cara” he wanted to keep moving his hands, to feel her. But he abstained. “No, it's not that..” she paused and frowned before continuing. “You’re tired, you’re exhausted, my love please. When I said ``let me love you I didn’t want you to make love” he looked over her body both confused and hurt. “But I want this, cara, please let me have you, it's been too long” he scooted forward holding a hand to touch her but she only held it, slipping her fingers in between his. “Copia….you aren't even hard” she emphasized by guiding his eyes down to himself. She was right, and he understood. He sat back and looked up, still partially lost. “I do miss you copia, but you don’t have to push yourself for me. I know the tour wasn’t easy for you. I know that there is still plenty more work to be done. Please listen to yourself. You need time to rest, We can have our fun later. But for now, just for now. Take it slow”

she held his hand and brought it to her face. The full strain of hours of work, sweat and tears finally crumbled on himself. He looked away ashamed and he breathed deeply. Sleep was still calling him and his emotions felt cruel, abusing his tired state. She broke the silence after a long moment “you didn't even need the bath did you?” A defeated huff passed through him “how did you know cara?” He looked up slightly surprised at her wit. “No hair gel this time, why don't we get out. I think we both wasted plenty of water today” in his lucid state, that was what brought him to tears.had he really thought he could fool her? That he could even convince her? The months at an unrelenting pace had gotten to him Realizing just how fragile he was she pulled him into her arms and hushed him gently. “Come on, let's get you to bed i'll hold you” she hushed gently before pulling the drain on the now cold water. She pulled a towel and dried him. Working meticulously over each segment of his body and kissing each part, reminding him how much he meant to her, how much she adored him. She pulled him out of the tub and stepped onto the cold floor. Patiently she guided him to their bed, his hair hung over his face as he leaned over supporting his elbows on his knees and held his face in his hands. She let go and slid the drawer next to them open, sliding out soft pajama pants. one was gray with bats and moons printed on them, the other red with rats and stars only on the hem of the pants. At first glance they would seem perfectly normal. However one small bat and rat sewn on the opposite pants was just enough for them to match. She held out the pants and a fresh pair of boxers to him. He looked up lightly “when did we have those?” he asked softly, still trying to put happiness in his tone. “I got them made for when you return, I thought it would be something nice to come home to” she squeezed his thigh gently, before she pulled on an extra pair of his boxers and followed with her own pajama pants. He stepped into the pant leg, hopping slightly to hike them over his ass. He pulled the blankets out, grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into the bed. She was pulled between his legs, his chest was pressed against her back and his jaw rested in the crook of her neck. “Would you sing for me, my love? Even a hum, anything to quiet my mind” he mumbled and turned his face to kiss her cheek tenderly, his eyelashes tickling her face and his hands played with hers. She thought on what song to choose, he must have been sick of hearing his own music or any of the church's music. She was surprised he wanted to hear anything at all. With her mouth open her voice sang softly, moving aside for copia to lay down in her lap, combing his hair with her fingers. Gently and as tenderly as she could, she sang. “Each night before you go to bed my baby, sing a little prayer for me my baby”. Copia’s eyes fell shut and his face sinking into utter calmness, their hands tangled together. Y/n’s face dipped down brushing her lips against copias forehead, a light kiss on his clean face. As she sang his breathing slowed, slipping into a deep sleep he mumbled her name almost inaudible to her. The singing quieted into silence as she pulled the blanket up over them both, sitting on her elbows she reached for the candle they burned through their evening, and with a small huff. The room was cast into darkness, leaving only the moonlight casting through.

#ghost band #ghost bc #cardinal copia #cardinal copia/ reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus 4

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