eve • she/her • 22 reader, writer, lover
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐏𝐗𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍 do not copy, translate, or feed my works to ai. graphics all made by me, dm for use or creation.
Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
AnasAbdin
taylor price
trying on a metaphor

Janaina Medeiros

shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
Sade Olutola
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER

@theartofmadeline
h
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Monterey Bay Aquarium

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@callsignpxnguin
eve • she/her • 22 reader, writer, lover
MASTERLIST / LINKS / INFO ੈ✩‧₊˚
© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐏𝐗𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍 do not copy, translate, or feed my works to ai. graphics all made by me, dm for use or creation.
Can I get a scenario with the user overstimulating Simon? Thank you bestieeee 😝
you absolutely can 🥰
Simon Riley Getting Overstimulated 🔞
For a man of few words, when he got going, Simon was little more than a dog.
He was panting and heaving and moaning into your ear, and you’d only properly been at him for a few minutes.
“Too much, Si?” You cooed, pulling away from his thick cock to lick your lips and savour the salty essence that remained on your damp tongue.
He whined, hands fisting at your hair as you perched between his legs. He was far, far beyond comprehensible words — and it gave you such a lewd sense of satisfaction that you couldn’t help but smirk devilishly.
To reduce such a strong man to nothing but a mess was a true achievement.
“Want me to keep going?” You took another long, sultry suck down his length before pulling away again. “You’re gonna have to beg for it, gorgeous.”
“P-please…” he moaned.
“Please what, baby?” “Please… give me more…”
“More what? Use your words, c’mon.” You fisted him quickly, and he gave another rugged groan.
“More of your mouth… god, your mouth… it drives me fuckin’ wild.”
You hummed in appreciation and obliged his request — but not in the way he was expecting. Immediately, you began to suck his cock at a formidable pace, pulsating back and forth at such a pace that made him buck his hips wildly.
“Hey— what— fuck, oh, fuck…”
Within a few moments a guttural whine left his throat, just as spurts of thick cum were squirted down your throat. You gagged instinctively, but relaxed once you paused to swallow the warm, familiar substance. “Mmm…”
Simon hadn’t meant to cum that fast — had never cum that fast, as it happened. He would’ve sworn it on everything, but the way your mouth wrapped around his length just drove him so crazy. He couldn’t help it.
“Good?” You murmured, pulling away — hair messy as you wiped some drool from your lips with the back of your hand.
“Better… than good…” he mumbled, head falling back against the wall. “Fuckin’ amazing.”
Clark Kent is an acts of service man.
Need something from the shops? He already popped down that morning and got exactly what you needed before you even knew you needed it.
Feeling down? He’s got your favourite show queued and is ready to snuggle and talk about it.
About to put your shoes on? He’s kneeling before you in moments, looking up with those big blue eyes magnified behind glasses and wearing an expression you can only describe as puppy-like.
Everything he does is done in a way to benefit you, so much so that you sometimes felt guilty for all he did for you. But it was hard to feel bad for too long when you saw just how happy it made him to help you out.
He was like a puppy — beaming up at you the moment you praised him, big blue eyes sparkling.
God, you loved that man.
was wondering if you would so kindly do a drabble on king price who is insanely possessive of his queen? totally fine if you're not into the concept, love ya lots!!
-🦄
I CAN ABSOLUTELY DO THIS RAWR forgive me for being so slow 🥺 🙏
The King’s words were slow and lethal as they echoed out into the courtroom.
“You dare disrespect your queen?”
He spoke quietly, but his tone held such a barely concealed rage that it forced the onlookers to avert their gaze for fear of being the next one to face his wrath.
The servant boy blanched. “No, sir, forgive me— all I meant was to say that she looked lovely today— that is all, I swear!”
“Then that’s you’ve done two things wrong today. Because I heard what you said with my own ears, and the disgusting phrases you used seemed to indicate something more than saying she looked lovely today.” He paused for a second, eyes darkening. “Your second mistake? Not apologising to her. She is your queen, just as much as I am your king. You will treat her as such.”
The boy seemed lost for words. “…I apologise, my queen. Please, I meant no harm.”
You could only stare, face stony, wordless.
John laughed. A loud, hearty laugh — but it held no semblance of amusement. Only pure malice. “Meant no harm… of course.”
The nobles in the audience murmured amongst themselves.
“Silence!” John called out.
Immediately, all whispers halted.
You glanced at John sideways, before subtly putting a hand on his. He let his anger control him, sometimes, and it was up to you to keep him tethered with reason.
Immediately, you felt tension in his frame dissipate, and he inhaled slowly.
“One year behind bars for contempt and blatant disrespect of your queen. Dismissed,” the King barked.
-
“Forgive me, my darling,” John muttered, voice gruff as the two of you sat on the bed in your shared chambers a few hours after the ordeal. He had rid himself of the thick cloak and luxurious velvet he previously wore, now donning only thin linen briefs and a vest. “I get… carried away.”
“Of course, John. You acknowledging it is enough for me.” You smiled warmly, curling up into his side — a gesture to which he grunted in approval, and wrapped a thick arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “But… you don’t think that the sentence was a little harsh? He’s only a boy, after all. Defending my honour doesn’t need to go that far.”
“You should’ve heard what he was saying, though,” he added after a moment, tone suddenly far darker. “Boy or not, he needs to realise that that was unacceptable to say. About anyone, queen or not. Besides… I’d defend your honour with my life.”
You hummed quietly before laughing, melting into his touch. “I appreciate that, though that’s a little far-fetched.”
Silence stretched between the two of you. “Forgive me again, then. I can’t help myself when it comes to you. God, the minute I think something is about to happen to you, a crazy comes over me. I can’t… help it.”
“As long as you don’t go too far, then I’m completely okay with that.”
You craned your neck to smile at him, and he grinned and kissed you greedily — the whiskers on his upper lip tickling you enough to make you giggle.
“Hey! Stop that!”
“I may be a king, but I’m not too high on my horse to not give you the love you deserve, my queen.” His voice was like velvet — deep, smooth, and rumbling.
You beamed.
Fly, Bird, Fly
A Superman/Clark Kent x fem!Reader fanfiction Click here for the AO3 version TW: violence, references to suicide idealisation
2 // previous, next
MASTERLIST
Walking — or, rather, running — into the Daily Planet, you figured your day couldn’t get much worse than it already had.
Soaking from the downpour that had unleashed itself upon you the moment you left your apartment, and scowling from the unpleasant interaction you had had with the bus driver en route, you figured that such an atrocious introduction to your new job meant things couldn’t possibly get much worse.
TF141 Getting Patched Up
Anti-social, uber-secretive Ghost is quite clearly the most stubborn when it comes to getting checkups. He learnt to be independent and self-sufficient, so unless he’s got five bullet holes and two stab wounds, you won’t find him voluntarily going near the medbay with a ten-foot-pole. He’ll also make stupid sarcastic (and quite concerning) jokes about worse injuries he’d seen in the past.
I feel Soap would be the opposite — he’s quite the flirt, so getting ‘felt up’ by the nurses would most likely make his day. He is also the kind of guy to purposely hurt himself with the sole intention of receiving coos and special attention. Overall, though, the moment he gets severely injured, he’s holing himself up in his barracks and not letting anyone — not even his favourite nurse — help him out.
Gaz would be the unexpected stubborn one, I think. After being so thoroughly trained by Price and so eager to follow in his footsteps, he wouldn’t want to show weakness where possible. Fortunately for him, he soon grows fond of one medic in particular, and suddenly he’s okay with going to the medbay again — much more agreeable than he had been previously.
Then there’s Price. He’s such an old man that he doesn’t even bother hiding his wounds anymore. He’ll downplay them, of course he will, but at the end of the day he’d rather not die, and losing a lot of blood makes him feel ill. So the moment that someone calls him out, he’ll sigh and mope but will secretly enjoy the care and comfort of the medbay and nurses.
hi, I really like your fic fly, bird, fly and I was wondering if I could be put on the tag list for it? also idk if you know this, but I tested the ao3 link and it went to a cod fic instead? thank you!
you can absolutely be added to the tag list! as for the ao3 link, i realise i haven’t actually posted the fic up yet 😭 😭 so sorry, i’ll probably have it ready alongside the release of the second chapter. thanks for your support and patience!
Colours of the Soul
a fem!reader x young!arthur morgan fanfiction click here for the ao3 version
ONE: The Outlaw // NEXT
MASTERLIST
“Another great catch, eh, Missy?” Called the chief, as you strode into the jail with yet another unconscious criminal hogtied and slumped unceremoniously over your shoulder.
You gave him a small smile and nodded tersely. “All in a day’s work, sir.” There was a clank, a thump, and then another clank as you heaved the man off of your shoulder and into an empty cell with a huff, before rolling your arms and groaning softly. “Though I don’t know how on earth Skipper coped with the journey. A heavy feller, this one was.”
Fly, Bird, Fly
A Superman/Clark Kent x fem!Reader fanfiction Click here for the AO3 version TW: graphic depictions of attempted suicide and depression
1 // next
MASTERLIST
The first time you met Superman, you were trying to kill yourself.
You had been on the bridge for a while. For probably just short of an hour you had been sitting on the edge, watching the world go by. Listening. Thinking.
Considering.
Superman who, a few years ago, caught you as you jumped off of the highest bridge you could find.
Superman who stares at you in alarm and panic, stammering something about how there wasn’t a monster, so why were you falling?
Superman who takes you, trembling and sniffling, home — and stays with you until you’re feeling better.
Superman who’s been checking up on you ever since, to make sure you’re doing okay.
Clark Kent who stares at you with that spark of recognition — and fear — in his eyes when you appear at the Daily Planet as the new secretary.
#fly, bird, fly — first chapter is out now :)
When is chapter one for fly bird fly coming?! So excited!
in approximately 24 hours :)) so glad you’re excited and lmk what you think when it gets posted!
hey I think you accidentally put the header for "We Were Ghosts Before We died" in ur Clark Kent post
YOU ANGEL yes i did tysm for pointing it out 😭 xxx
Fly, Bird, Fly — Masterlist
a Superman/Clark Kent x fem!Reader fanfiction click here for the ao3 version
SUMMARY
In which Superman saves you from killing yourself, and now you have to live with the consequences.
Years after saving you from the bridge you jumped off of as Superman, Clark Kent recognises you a bit too well when you join the Daily Planet as a new photographer.
CW
heavy suicidal thoughts, depression, graphic imagery of violence, eventual smut, slow burn
CHAPTERS
ONE
TAGLIST
@cherryandsugar @quantumorquanta @vivicendium @sempersirens @teascorner @itzmeme @jenneric2003 @jazlinda @nackrosor @evermoresivy @claudiwithachanceof @friedunknownphantom @icybarness @loreperseus @ryu-nixhyd @no4names @chaoticcoffeequeen @kryptidfiles
(has it been about six months? yes. is it because i’ve been working on making it a longform fic and am also very lazy? yes.)
Cockwarming Price, except no one on base knew that you two were fucking.
Which meant that every time someone knocked on the door — everyone someone just walked past, the echo of their shoes even from outside sounding loud against the hushed, slick noises you were making — Price had to effectively push you under his desk (much to your displeasure).
You’d mewl and whine every time, but was always shut up as soon as Price stuffed your mouth full to the point where you could only gargle and choke on your complaints, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.
It was humiliating, being his secret, his little pet — but oddly exhilarating, too. Which was why you always came crawling back for more.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that— a good girl, you are,” Price grumbled, voice rough with need — the low timbre sending vibrations through your spine that pooled at the bottom of your navel in the form of pure arousal.
You could only sigh, eyelids fluttering as he shifted and the heavy limb inside of you twitched languidly, kissing your cervix with a delicious stretch. “John…”
“Don’t talk, baby, save those pretty lips for later,” he muttered, placing a thick hand over your mouth to shush you. This time, you didn’t protest — you were going to savour all the time he allowed you to sit on his meaty cock, because it felt like fucking heaven.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Fuck, I— uh— one second,” John grunted, quickly pushing you off of his lap and readjusting his posture.
“Something wrong, Cap?” The deep, accented voice of Ghost rang out, as the door swans open. Not that you could see him, much to your dismay.
If you were able to see him, you would have noticed how his eyes flicked from the flush on John’s face, to the hastily tidied papers in his desk, and then to the odd angle his desk was placed at.
“Nothing at all, Lieutenant.” He said it like a challenge. Daring his soldier to ask why the room smelled of sex, and why it was coming from Price.
“Nothing, huh?”
A pointed silence.
“Nothing.”
Ghost grunted once. “Well, maybe next time let me know beforehand. I might want to join in on morning, myself.”
And with that, he left.
I think maybe it would be beneficial for you to put your content warnings at the start of a piece, not just in the tags. Like
CW: Character death, CW: Angst no comfort because MY HEARTTT 🥺🥺 I did not mean to read something sad today
It's tough ik bc people are like "Tag your CWs and TWs" which is true, but works better on ao3 than tumblr because ao3 you see them BEFORE you read and accidentally upset yourself. I totally agree that everyone is in charge of protecting themselves from what they read, and that it isn't the writer's responsibility, but I can't protect myself if I don't know what's coming bc there are no warning to take heed of.
You know?
don’t worry, i absolutely agree, and i am so sorry I didn’t mean to do that 😭 😭
the post you’re referring to is (i think) my first true angst and character death post, and so i probably haven’t tagged it properly as you mentioned. but thanks for letting me know and i’ll make appropriate changes now <3
CW: character death, angst no comfort
Ghost wasn’t one for physical touch.
Everyone on base knew it — were certain of it, in fact — without the topic even needing to be brought up. It was instinctual and plain; if you even attempted to touch the huge, scary, masked man, you would end up regretting it.
It wasn’t as if Ghost made it obvious that he felt touch-starved, and isolated in the way that everyone naturally skirted around him. Why would he ever bother to expose such a vulnerability, even to his closest teammates? Besides, it didn’t matter, anyway. They were all soldiers. It wasn’t a tea party.
First: love you, I hope your pillow is always cold and puffy
Second: can I request a silly thing for Simon? ... Like reader teasing him with something he "says" he doesn't "like" (idk smth like edging or calling him daddy or something of the sort) and he might not like it or finds it cringe but whatever, but that ain't stopping him, or damn might even give him a reason to be extra mean... OR the other way around - Simon doing it to reader?! OR alternatively Simon and reader having the conversation about what they don't like or do like in bed, and one of them is shy or embarrassed? dk I'm horny but feel silly ok!?
LOVE YOU💕💕💕 No pressure if you don't want to write this of course, you always come first ❣️
(no pun intended... If you can believe that....)
LOVE YOU TOO ANON AWWW AND OF COURSE??? IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE… you gave me so many ideas so I’ll just go with the first one for this and i may or may not do some of the others later… CW: blowjob, afab!reader, edging, general freakiness so 18+ goes without saying (ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS SAT IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS ILYILYILY I SWEAR)
Simon was close — you could tell because he had begun whining, and he’d never do that normally unless he was so blissed out of his mind that the quiet noise could escape him.
“Feel good, Si?” You gasped, pausing the bobbing of your mouth on his cock to catch your breath — and tease him.
He could only whine again, and if that didn’t turn someone on, then you weren’t sure that anything could. Meanwhile, his dick pulsed and throbbed, twitching the moment you ran your tongue down it once more. “So good… God, don’t… don’t stop… please…” His hips began to rut upwards on instinct, and you bit back a grin before slowly pulling yourself away and rubbing his slit with your thumb.
“Mmm—mph…” His eyes, previously half-lidded, widened in surprise. “What the fuck are you… doing?”
“Nothing,” you replied innocently — far too innocently — before licking him all the way up from the base at a torturous speed. “You like that? Like taking things slow?”
He grunted, letting his eyes flutter shut again — and although you could sense how you were winding him up, he didn’t snap quite yet. “Hurry the— ugh— fuck up.”
“What’s the magic word?”
He visibly tensed at that, and you gave a teasing caress to his balls before returning your focus to his tip. He was so close, and you were killing him.
“The hell?”
“What’s the magic word, Si?”
A long silence stretched out, and you gave his tip another short suck before moving again.
“…P-please…”
“Good boy,” you cooed, taking his length in both your hands and running them up and down — your mouth following dutifully.
“Fuckin’ hell… mmm…”
You always knew when he was about to cum. You could sense it in the way his balls visibly tightened, the way his breathing stuttered for just a moment, the way his eyes rolled back almost imperceptibly.
He came thick and heavy, and you moaned as it left his cock in ropes.
The moment he finished, he straightened, breathing heavy. Suddenly, there was a hand around your throat and two furious eyes locked onto your face. “Who the fuck do you think you are, edging me?”