#LITERALLY SIR PLEASE HAVE MERCY

[just-slightly-chayotic]

I'M FINE I SWEAR

[alienzil]

Nanny Danny

“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.

He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…

It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.

“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”

“Take him out.”

“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”

“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”

“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”

*****

Two years later

“Call them again”

“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”

“Then call another agency!”

“There isn’t another agency, Sir”

Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.

He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”

Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”

His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”

“Well?”

She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”

“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”

She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”

“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.

“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.

“Is this ice?”

“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”

“This machine was moved?”

“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”

Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.

“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”

[hanrinz]

OMFG I ATE ALL THE TAGS WTF okay so omg ooc reo??????? WTF IS THAT ????? HE FITS SO PERFECTLY ZAINA !!! im gonna combust from this OMG RAHHHHHHHHHHHH i love it so much omg

#ficrecs ← i need this to be documented in my faves fr i ate all the tags omg😭 tumblr add more this is not enough for me!!!!!!!

"you look unwell."

"do i?" your tone betrayed your disinterest. it was very evident to those around you that you were bored. so utterly bored, you couldn't bear being in that place; but your conversing partner did not seem bright enough to pick that up.

"yes, worse than usual."

"than usual?" you didn't care for what others had to say about you. you had grown quite desensitised to the endless talks and endless gossip that encircled you, but there was a limit to your patience. you were no saint. however, the unusual circumstance you were in proved helpful, in the sense that, it was allowing you to leave the conversation justifiably.

"forgive me, i did not mean..." he trailed off, he had finally caught on, he had overstepped.

"you did not mean to speak your mind?" you let out a false laugh, hoping it would give you enough leeway to escape the horrible situation you were engaged in. "it is all well. but i must take my leave. my lord." you thanked the heavens he did not stop you or try to apologise. maybe you ought to thank him for his ‘services’.

making your way closer to the entrance you heard the sound of carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells. the night was coming to a close; the warm glow of the chandeliers reflected off the gilded mirrors and the polished floors of the ballroom, while the soft strains of the orchestra's instruments filled the air; it was all hideous and horrible, you could not think of anything but how to get away from it all.

"young lady, where are you going?" turning around you half expected to see a mouse with how squeaky the voice speaking to you was, but there stood a boy standing (half-confidently) in the doorway. why was he calling you young? if anything, you looked older than him.

"just a quick promenade in the garden." you hoped that would’ve been enough to leave you alone, but he seemed displeased with your answer, so you added, "would you like to join me?"

"unchaperoned?!" he looked offended to have even been asked to join you. maybe you should've been offended too?

"it shall not be unchaperoned cousin!" now this was a confident voice. a young man (really, this time) walked up to the boy from behind and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"re—"

"pleasure to meet you lady..." he interrupted. his pitch rose at the end of the sentence; it was a question.

"y/n, l/n. and you are?"

"lady y/n l/n, it is lovely to meet you. great people, the l/n's, lovely family, lovely people—"

the empty chatter was beginning to bother you.

"i would like to know who i will be walking with.". 

"aren't you demanding? my lady." he teased. his hand still on the boy’s shoulder, pulling them both towards you.

"forget it." you turned on your heel aggressively and headed towards the looming dark green garden, lit up solely with the flickering fireflies. it almost perfectly reflected the starry night overhead, the turbulent purple clouds and shooting stars falling gently behind them. it was a shame the night was being missed by all the people wasting their time indoors. at least you had been left alone for once—

the young man ran up in front of you and bowed, before giving you his hand. a gleaming smile graced his lips and he seemed quite pleased with himself, like a child figuring out how to do something mundane (to others that is, children often find the silliest things extraordinary) on their own.

"i shall not accept it until you tell me your name."

he sighed in defeat, but he never wiped the stupid smile off his face. again he nodded in a half-bow. "am i allowed to follow you?"

"you can do as you please." you weren't just pretending to be indifferent, you truly didn't care what he did. the idea that you might be trapped into a marriage with the young man if you were caught with him alone had crossed your mind at some point but wouldn't that just mean you could step away from the 'marriage mart’. he seemed smart enough to hold a conversation, and he did seem to possess some aesthetic qualities. all wasn't bad.

"coz! join us!" he yelled as he trailed behind you, like an excited puppy. and the boy obliged. he looked scared, as if his cousin would hurt him if he did not follow through.

"so, my lady, how are you enjoying the night?" he once again offered his hand as you both stood awaiting his cousin to join you.

pushing past his gloved hand and raising your skirt ever so slightly (so as not to ruin it in the garden) you replied, "i have participated in better balls."

"it saddens me to hear that." holding his hands behind his back he stepped closer to you. faking a hurt frown. you raised a brow inquisitively. why was this man so invested in a ball he had not organised? and why was he not telling you his name?

"this is the prince's ball, why should it bother you?"

"you're quite correct. it should not bother me." he chuckled. "coz, what did you think of the ball?"

"you—" a stern look from the mysterious, nameless, young man and the boy corrected himself all too quickly, "the prince must have worked painstakingly for days, it was very well organised, the orchestra was lovely and—"

"enough about the ball!" you said, far too angrily.

"was it really that tiresome?" this time the enigma sounded genuine.

"please, do ask me why i left the ball." you said through gritted teeth.

"why did you leave the ball so early, my lady?" he leaned forward casually and looked you in the eyes, as if deeply interested in what you had to say. you were taken aback– this was a first. you had supposed that he, too, was just as disinterested as you were, and that all the conversing was just a formality. perhaps you were mistaken.

"to be left alone, to get away from the incessant questions about my marriage, about a courtship. is that really all a lady is worth? i truly believe that women are much more interesting than men shall ever be; so why should we withstand the boring, meaningless questions?"

"i don't—"

"please, my lord, do not say a word."

the rest of the walk was quiet. you could almost hear the grass snapping under your weight from how silent everyone was. this was what you had wanted, yet it felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable. by the time you had done the round of the garden and seen all that it offered, the cool air had started prickling your skin. you were sure the man had noticed the goosebump on your exposed arms, neck and back but he seemed to be trying not to invade your personal space again.

a second time approaching the excessive abode you watched a mass of people emerge from the front door and head towards their horse-drawn carriages, with footmen, drivers, and all. that was who you were, the daughter of a duke, rich and privileged. your duty was to secure as advantageous a match as possible, but everything related to that prospect infuriated you. it was a strange feeling, being so aware of who you were supposed to be, yet not wanting to be them. it was a constant battle, and neither side felt truly right.

a man wearing a very tall hat had approached, distracting you from your thoughts. he bowed grandly, taking his hat off before turning sideways and stretching his arm out to point to the buildings, “your royal highness, the archduchess requested your presence.”

the mysterious man nodded his head once and started towards the indicated location.

"you're prince reo mikage?" you called after him. suddenly it all made a bit more sense. not that it wasn’t still a confusing situation. but all the interruptions and stern looks could now be pieced together. your exasperated voice made him turn around at once. it seemed he had found a reason to stay.

"i suppose." he chucked, "but please, call me reo."

"no..." you weren't sure where this crazy sense of daring was coming from. you hadn't even bowed and apologised for your rudeness yet, in fact, here you were denying a simple request. a prince was not the sort of person with whom one ought to trifle.

"no?"

"it would be rude to call a prince by their name without also using their title." you noted primly, he seemed to take this into account for a second before replying, eyes sparkling with bold intent.

"would it be rude to use my name if we were, say, courting?"

"we are not courting."

"but it remains a possibility, my lady?"

you caught an audacious gleam in his eyes and you felt a final breath leave your mouth. you parted your lips ready to say something, but not a single word was spoken. there was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.

“the archduchess does not like to wait, your royal highness.”

“yes, i must be on my way, my lady.” he muttered distractedly, turning back to bid you farewell, “i shall call on you soon.” he nodded again and left.

and there you stood, foolishly, under the moonlight, listening once more to the carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells, the night had finally come to a close, truly this time.

you walked aimlessly towards the carriage your mother was standing beside. she looked distraught and anxious, betraying her worry at your absence. you weren’t completely sure what had happened that night and you were dreading seeing reo again, (prince reo, you corrected yourself), unsure of his intentions towards you. deep down you knew you weren’t special enough to capture the interest of a prince in just one night, so was he coming to reprimand your rudeness? you shouldn’t have spoken as much as you did...

however, as the morning drew in, it permeated the night and conquered all the fear and trepidation you had harboured as you slept. you were ready to face all the consequences of your actions and you were ready to protect your family. as you read in the sitting room this fearlessness only heightened. there was no way you would let a young man such as himself, prince or not, shame you and your family. you were prepared to do whatever it took.

“why are you up so early?” the voice of your mother interrupted your thoughts, “after all the sighing and eyerolls from last night, you must be exhausted!”

“i find myself full of energy all of a sudden...” and before she could reply or register what you had just said you quickly added, “i would like to meet the prince.”

“sorry darling, what was that?”

“mother, i would like to meet the prince.” you repeated, this time with more conviction, “to thank him for such an eventful evening, truly one of the best soirees i have ever attended.”

“although i’m sure the prince would appreciate such a sentiment,” she said hesitantly, “i doubt the daughter of a duke could simply call upon a grand prince. there are certain rules one must follow, especially regarding royalty.”

“then, what must i do to secure a meeting?”

she looked around, confused, before prodding you with, “i’m not quite sure myself dear, but may i ask why you wish to meet the prince?”

“i want to give him my thanks.”

she sighed deeply before plotting herself next to you on the sofa. “this is so unlike you dearest. what is it really?”

uncrossing your legs, you swung round to face her fully, “mother, truly, i simply want to–”

before you could finish, the door to the sitting room blasted open, and your butler rushed in, his face burning red and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “your grace, the prince’s carriage has arrived.”

“so soon?” you murmured, feeling a sudden wave of nerves wash over you. it had hardly been a day and he was here already. all that confidence you had been building up seemed to have vanished as soon as the news of his arrival reached you.

“has this anything to do with your request earlier, darling?” your mother whispered, shooting you a worried glance.

“i don’t think so...” you feigned innocence as she looked at you dubiously raising a brow. nevertheless, she had no time to waste on the matter, immediately taking the now sweating butler to the foyer to greet the royal guest.

you suddenly became very aware of just how unprepared you were for a visit from royalty. you weren’t wearing anything spectacular, and you hadn’t even done your hair yet. you weren’t a mess per se, but were far from ready to attend a royal meeting. but you really had no time to think as your mother entered the room once again, her disposition now distracted and anxious.

“y/n, the prince wishes to meet you in the garden.”

“in the garden?”

“yes. if you know anything about this, please tell me now. i am worried for you.”

“i shall tell you everything soon.”

“y/n!” your mother exclaimed, but you had already ran out of the sitting room, flinging your book onto a nearby sofa and pulling on the gloves she had just taken off.

upon opening the doors to the garden, you saw the same figure you had walked with the previous night. as he turned he flashed you a charming smile, you felt a flutter in your stomach and a warmth build up in your cheeks. part of you was pleased to see him there, but only a part.

“we should marry.” he walked up to you, offering a hand. had he not grown tired of your refusals? you couldn’t help but pity his persistence, and that was the only reason you accepted it. it was warm and sturdy; he must be an adept dancer, you thought to yourself; of course, he was a prince.

“is this how you greet every lady you call on?”

he chuckled while placing your hand on his elbow and guiding you towards the fountain that stood in the centre of the garden. “only the ones i wish to marry, my—”

there you were, interrupting him again. was this your punishment? and if it were, why were you digging a greater grave for yourself rather than just accepting defeat? wouldn’t this be easier on your family?

“i barely know you, your highness.” you protested.

“does my reputation not precede me?”

“i have no interest in gossip, so i know nothing of your reputation, your highness.”

“you shall if we marry.” he continued, as if all your concerns meant nothing to him. they probably didn’t. princes are not accustomed to the word ‘no’.

“you are quite literally the last person i intend to marry, your highness.”

his mouth fell open mockingly as he gave you a rueful look, “you would rather marry my cousin?”

“your high—" you began, but he interrupted. it would be a miracle if the two of you could ever finish your sentences in each other's presence.

“if you are so keen on calling me by my title perhaps ‘my prince’ would be better suited.”

“it would be inappropriate, methinks.”

“and methinks, the lady doth protest too much.” he quipped.

“reciting hamlet shall not woo me, sir.” you retorted, trying your hardest to appear displeased and disinterested.

“then what must i do to secure your heart, my royal highness?”

“i am no princess.”

“you will be if you answer my question, my lady.” he stopped abruptly to look at your face fully. you noticed things about him you had not seen before. his strong yet gentle eyes, the way his hair fluttered slightly in the light zephyr like feathers of doves, and how he always seemed to be charmed.

he was vaguely amusing, vaguely annoying, vaguely vexing, but you couldn’t quite help but admire his wit. what you didn’t admire so much was his persistence and his refusal to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“why me?” you asked finally after what felt like a century of just staring at each other.

“because you fascinate me.” he replied simply, as if that were the most obvious fact in the universe.

you suddenly felt very annoyed, and you didn’t shy away from showing it. you scoffed loudly before replying. “anything can be fascinating, if one is curious enough.”

“you truly are wise beyond your years.” you were wrong. he wasn’t always charmed, in fact in this very instant his smile dropped, and he gave you a grave gaze.

you looked at him for a long moment, feeling unaccountably stung. he seemed to notice the discomfort but said nothing and the two of you stood there staring into each other’s eyes.

“i should take my leave.” he bowed slightly; it was different from the sorts of bows you had received from him. they felt hurt in a way. “your presence has truly brightened my morning, my lady.” his tone did not indicate anything of the sort, it had turned monotonous and distant, and you found yourself longing for his animated self once more.

“so, are we to marry, your highness?” you tried asking. you hated how you sounded so desperate, you hated how you had admitted defeat and you hated how he was leaving, again. why were you calling for him as he left, again? could there ever be a time where he wouldn’t leave.

“not yet.” he said modestly before departing.

days turned into what felt like an eternity as you struggled to despise him with every fibre of your being. and you really did struggle. he was dragging your chastisement for far too long; how cruel it was for him to toy with you like this. you were not his prey to play with before he devoured you. but as much as you tried to resist him, you couldn’t help the way your heart ached when he was gone. it was foolish; you had known each other for barely enough time for him to have such an impact on you. but there was no doubt, you missed him terribly.

your mother, too, had grown tired of asking you about his abrupt visit after more than a week had passed. but your attachment to him only grew stronger.. it was absurd to miss someone who tormented and vexed you. but you supposed you had always been a rather peculiar person.

“dearest, another ball? are you positive?”

a whole month had passed since the incident. very well, it was probably no more than four days, but it felt like months. every second felt like eternity without him. you had attended every ball there was to attend in the past days, days, and nights. yet any time you tried to approach him, you felt like a fool. why willinging walk into a trap of a marriage? what was wrong with your head? no, your heart, what was wrong with your heart?

you were sure this ball would be like every other. some schubert, or mozart if you were lucky, assaulting your ears. women flocking around your prince and him not even sparing you a glance. you wished to be alone in the garden again, just with him this time. you weren’t certain what you wanted to do, you weren’t certain how you would even reach such a circumstance and, you weren’t certain you wanted to listen to your heart at that exact moment. 

“no, i’m not, mother.” 

“what is it dear?” you could barely make out her voice anymore, the darkness of the night outside was pressing in around you and you felt yourself begin to cry. 

your lower lip quivered as you chose your next words very carefully, you did not wish to speak your feelings into existence, and you surely didn’t wish to let your mother know about your affections. “my head hurts, i think the scratchy music from last night has taken a toll on me.” you coveted the energy to add a fake chuckle to that, but you did not have any left. so you looked at her, eyes dead and mouth smiling. it seemed to have worked, she gave you a sad, pitiful look, said some sweet words and left. 

you soon heard your tears begin to drip from your eyes. it was a soft, gentle sound, like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, but it echoed through the silence of the room like a thunderclap. you missed him so much it hurt, it was a dull ache that settled deep within your chest and refused to be ignored. 

you stopped. you had to. you heard a loud crash echo through the room as it came from the balcony. you spun around, heart pounding, only to see a flower pot had toppled over and shattered on the ground. just great, you couldn’t simply be left to cry, you had to be killed as well. 

your nerves on edge, you cautiously treaded towards the balcony, sensing the chill of the night air on your skin, and the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end. peering over the stone guardrail you saw a familiar man frantically pacing in a circle. why was he here?

“my lady—” he yelled. when the moonbeams lit up his face you saw the state he was in. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. his cravat was almost entirely undone and his eyes were wild. 

as soon as you heard him you charged off, without a second thought. your fingers grasped onto the walls as you ran down flights of stairs, your mind growing dizzier and lighter with every step. as you reached the bottom, you caught sight of him through a nearby window, approaching with a frenzied haste.

with a burst of energy, you pushed open the massive doors and stepped into the crisp night air, coming face to face with the prince. both of you were out of breath, your faces flushed and minds blanking in the presence of each other. 

“my—”

“what do you think you’re doing here?” you asked sharply. in truth you didn’t want to know at all, you were just glad, grateful, honoured, to see him again. and so close. 

he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the vulnerability of the moment, “can we walk?”

you nodded, feeling your hand enveloped by his warm, slightly rough, ungloved skin, as if he had been out without his gloves. you felt yourself melting into him, and dear god, it was just his hand, but you could feel yourself moulding into him so easily.

“what is it, reo?” you asked softly, turning to face him. the concern etched on his face did not go unnoticed. 

in a voice tinged with worry he said, “you look unwell.” 

“i am unwell.” 

“i’m sorry.” he replied quietly. and he really was sorry. he wished he could be there for you, but he had grown hyper aware of how uncomfortable he made you feel. 

“if you were really sorry you wouldn’t have stayed away for so long.” your usual unreadable expression had contorted into a pained and depressed one. 

“i cannot stand to be away from you, you are my very life, and every separation gives such endless heartache...yet, i cannot force someone who doesn’t wish to see me to feel what i feel.” he admitted, his voice heavy and hoarse with sorrow. 

“i do not wish to see you?” you repeated, heart murky with confusion.

“do you not, not wish to see me?” he asked, his gaze intense as he searched your face for any sign of affirmation. you opened your mouth to offer the prince a scathing retort–why was he being so secretive? you hated him. but then, just when you were ready to sharpen your wit, something else popped out of your mouth instead.

“i want nobody but you for my lover, and my friend; and to nobody but you shall i be faithful.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could even think to stop them. the air around you seemed to crackle with energy as you met his gaze, your heart struck in your chest. you felt strange, queer, almost as if you were somehow suspended in time, ready to lift off your toes and float away. 

you weren’t sure when it happened. it hadn’t been sudden and clear in an instant. you weren’t even aware you loved this man until it had crept up on you and your own words professing your love for him divulged the information. 

for a moment, he just stood there, staring at you, as if trying to process the weight of your words. but then he smiled; most annoyingly, most beautifully. and without warning, he stepped forward, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours, and he was none of the things one should be the first time. he wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t sweet. he just kissed you, intently. with everything he had, with every ounce of desperation coursing through his veins.

as he pulled away, his lips found your ear, and you felt more than you heard, “i missed you.” 

you wanted to say that you’d missed him, too, but he was too close, and you were too warm, and your voice escaped you. good heavens, did every woman have this much trouble breathing when standing so close to a handsome man? it was no matter though, he was soon kissing you again; you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing. 

[zeruby16]

what you did last summer- seok matthew

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: after your memorable summer with matthew, you thought you would never see him again. so what happens when taerae introduces you to him for a second time?

word count: 2.9 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom matthew; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); cursing; oral sex (receiving); fingering; penetration; unprotected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any

notes: i did not grammar check this, so please have mercy. i literally wrote this super fast because i had to get the idea fully out of my brain. hope you enjoy!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

when romance novels would state how time ‘froze’ and the only people in the room were themselves and the love interest, you called bullshit.

there was no way everyone would suddenly disappear. it would make you look stupid wouldn’t it?

you hoped it didn’t because when matthew walked into your family’s restaurant while you were hanging out with your friends, all you could see was him.

how was he here? how did he get here?

“earth to y/n,” taerae called, waving his hands in front of your face. you flinched and closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gain your composure.

“what happened?”

“i wanted to introduce you all to matthew,” taerae gestured towards your friend group.

unbeknownst to taerae, you already knew matthew.

you really knew him.

“a-ah, nice to meet you matthew. i’m y/n,” you bowed your head as you shook his hands.

the hands that touched all your weak spots over the summer. the hands you itched for since you left your grandmother’s hometown.

matthew failed to hide his little smirk, “nice to meet you too y/n.” his eyes immediately passed over yours as taerae introduced the rest of the friend group.

his smirk scared you. whenever matthew felt devious, he didn’t hide it. in fact, he thrived on torturing you.

the last time you saw matthew you had left him alone.

on his bed.

after he nearly fucked the soul out of you.

your summer with matthew in simple terms was dangerous.

you had been the perfect daughter anyone could ask for. you did whatever your parents told you to, you helped out your grandmother every summer, you went to church every sunday, you were an angel until you met him.

seok matthew worked at your grandmother’s local flower shop. he offered to help you pick flowers for your grandmother and you thanked him, promising to go to the shop again. 

then, you went again and again and again. his presence was addicting. he showed interest in any little thing you mentioned, he helped your grandmother, his smile radiated joy, and he was anything you could ask for in a man.

the thing was whenever you two were alone, he ravished you. his kisses left marks, his touch made your skin burn with desire, you longed for him.

he made you break all your own rules, but you couldn’t help but go back to him every night. 

time flew by and your final night with matthew came, but he didn’t know. as far as he knew, you were a new local who moved in with her grandmother.

you cried as you slept with him, held onto him knowing it was your last time seeing him, and left before the sun could rise, catching your flight in the morning.

it wasn’t until you landed back home and your grandmother messaged you about the ‘pretty boy’ that you realized you fell for him.

matthew allowed you to be the person you wanted to be. someone who could break the rules without consequences. someone who could live freely without the pressure on their shoulders.

the someone you were though, wasn’t the person your family knew and you had to leave that person with matthew along with your love for him.

you mourned him. you had lost the one person you genuinely loved and he probably hated you now, but you lived your life.

you started your senior year of college, caught up with taerae and your friends, and forgot about matthew.

at least, you tried.

“matthew used to live in the neighborhood until he moved away. he decided to come here for his last year of college,” taerae explained, while you brushed your thoughts of matthew away.

“where did you live, matthew?” woongki asked.

once matthew mentioned your grandmother’s village, taeare looked at you stunned.

“weren’t you there in the summer?” you tried to focus your gaze anywhere else other than matthew’s eyes.

unfortunately, your mother came delivering the treats you ordered.

“yes she was, she was helping her grandmother with the house. i’ve raised such a good daughter,” she patted your head as you shrugged.

matthew knew this side of you, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but he also knew a side of you your mother would never want to hear about.

“okay mom i think they get it,”

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i just want everyone to know how precious you are.”

she left as you looked down towards the floor in embarrassment.

“sorry about that,” 

“it’s no worry y/n, i find it admirable how good you are to your parents,” matthew teased, knowing you would understand his underlying tone.

you started to feel flushed. matthew knew how to turn you into a stuttering mess. he had a way with words and your weakness was his sharp tongue. 

thankfully, none of your friends questioned anything. the hangout was playing out greatly until you caught matthew’s eyes.

your friends were so distracted with their own conversation that they couldn’t see how he checked you out, stared you down, and smirked at your blushing figure. 

your cheeks had to be beet red because when matthew stared at you with his bed eyes, you nearly fainted. 

the room suddenly became hot and you needed new air to breathe, so you excused yourself to the ladies room, avoiding matthew’s eyes at any cost.

a part of you wanted him to follow, but you couldn’t let him.

you paced around the restroom, inhaling and exhaling, reminding yourself how no one knew, and how everything would be fine.

then, he knocked.

he opened the door and locked it behind him.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” you silently yelled.

“what am i doing? no, how are you doing after you stood me up?” he spat out.

“matt, i had to leave. i didn’t-”

“didn’t think it would hurt? well it did, like a bitch, so imagine my surprise when i see you hanging out with one of my oldest friends,”

“taeare never said anything about you,”

“he did about you. he mentioned how smart you were, how your parents raised you to be this angel, how pretty you were, and so much more. do you know what he left out?” matthew asked, backing you into the counter as his arms allowed no room for you to escape.

“what?” you breathed out.

he placed your hair behind your ears as he placed his mouth next to your ear.

“how much of a little slut you are for me,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 

“but-”

“tell me y/n, do your parents really believe you’re a good girl?”

you couldn’t speak, so you decided to just nod.

“they don’t know about last summer do they?” you closed your eyes, trying to block him out.

“they don’t know how pretty your moans sound, or how gorgeous you look while taking me. they think you’re such this perfect angel, but that’s the last thing you are. isn’t it?” he asked, starting to caress every part of your body from your legs to your neck.

all you could do was deny and deny.

“i need words baby, you aren’t such a good girl are you?” his hands started to bunch up your dress, giving him easier access to your core.

“no,” you barely let out.

“what was that?”

“no!”

“no, what? i need you to be clear sweetheart,”

“no, i’m not a good girl sir,” your body trembled, aching for his touch.

“well then i think you deserve a punishment, yeah?” his face neared your lips and it took every ounce of your soul to not jump on him.

“yes sir,” you nodded and matthew didn’t let a second pass as his lips took yours ferociously. 

you grabbed his arm full of muscle, squeezing it as your relief from the pleasure you felt. 

he took your face roughly and continued to kiss you, inserting his tongue to assert his dominance. 

“i missed this,” he said, taking a break to breathe until he smashed his lips into yours again. your body felt like putty under his and all you could do was touch him.

you reached for his clothed cock, wanting to feel him after going months without him, but couldn’t as one of his hands slapped yours away.

“silly girl, i told you, you’re being punished,” he took your hands and kept them down on the counter with his strong hold. 

he continued to kiss you on your neck as he left some light bruises behind. his hands started to reach over your breasts as he toyed with them. he used the opening of the dress to lift it higher on your body, giving him access to your torso.

this was so wrong.

matthew was giving you everything you wanted and more, at your parents restaurant, in a restroom, with your friends waiting behind. 

the thought of taking him publicly made you even more wet, but it made you feel dirty.

his hands gripped your thighs lifting you onto the counter behind you and inserting himself between your legs.

your body automatically hugged him as you kissed him again, silently begging him to do something. his fingers reached for your underwear and he hissed.

“you’re already wet for me sweetheart. you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” 

“ever since you left, you’ve been aching to be ruined, touched, fucked and only by me right?” he continued and all you could do was nod.

his motions started piling on and on. the light touches of your core, his kisses, the heat in between your body, your body was shivering at the pleasure of it all.

“i need you to answer,” he suddenly walked away from your body, halting all presence of his touch and causing you to whine.

“yes sir,” you immediately rushed, reaching out your arms wanting him in between them again.

“good girl, i think you deserve a reward,” 

his hands suddenly pulled your underwear down, causing you to shiver as your core felt the cold air. he proceeded to lightly touch your clit, pressing on it at times. you grabbed his arm again, trying to steady yourself from his teasing.

his name suddenly became the only word you knew once he plunged a finger into you.

“matthew!” you looked to see his smirk.

if there was one thing matthew loved, it was to see your face contour in bliss. he was making a mess out of you and he enjoyed every second of it.

“i think my baby can take another? right?” you nodded, begging for his fingers, as he immediately inserted another.

his pace fastened as he started to hit your spot lightly, toying with your clit as he did so. 

you were seeing stars. you were nearing your orgasm and matthew wasn’t even shirtless. you tried to snake your hands over his abs under his shirt until his free hand stopped you.

“i said no touching, remember?”

you whimpered as his fingers rammed into you mercilessly.

“please i want to feel you,”

“too bad baby, you lost those privileges.”

he stayed unphased as he held onto your hip, helping you reach your climax.

you breathed his name over and over, closing in on the feeling in your stomach.

then, he stopped.

“no!” 

“you thought i would let you cum so easily?i thought you were smarter than that,” he tutted.

he chuckled at your state. the only thing supporting your body was your arms, the light mascara you had managed to run, and your whines never stopped.

it wasn’t until you looked deeply into his eyes that you realized he wasn’t done.

he squatted in front of you, his eyes meeting the juices of your pussy and smiled at you mischievously. 

you had no time to process what was going on in his head as his tongue met your core.

“oh my fuck-”, you moaned.

your legs tried to close as his tongue teased your clit and his lips kissed your core like it was his last day on earth.

his hands held your legs wide open, only allowing for you to ruin his hair with your needy hands.

“matt, please,” you cried, nearing your orgasm once again. the feeling was stronger, you felt the need to release everything.

your moans and cries became louder, but matthew was satan himself. he pulled away from your core and wiped your juices off of his mouth, smiling contently while he was at it.

you whined again, looking at him pleadingly.

“what happened? my dumb slut can’t take her punishment,” he teased.

“i’ll be good i promise, please just fuck me,” 

he tilted his head playfully and smiled, “and your parents think you’re this perfect angel.”

to your fulfillment, matthew started unzipping his pants and pulled down his boxers. his hard-on immediately sprung up and you leaned forward, trying to reach for his cock once again.

“are you sure?” matthew looked at you, concerned.

you left him last time because you didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak, but now you didn’t want him to leave. you weren’t going to let him go.

“yes, just yes.”

he teased your core with his tip and kissed you as he slowly inserted himself. you moaned in pain, his kisses and light caresses helping your body relax.

“you take me so well baby,” you tightened around him with the praise and he grunted.

“fuck, are you okay?” 

“just move matthew,” 

within seconds, he started thrusting into you slowly, but deeply, hitting your sweet spot every thrust.

“god i missed you,” he groaned as he started to speed up his thrusts.

“so did i,” you whimpered, his head against yours as you closed your eyes in ecstasy. 

matthew took it as a sign to go faster, pounding his hips into yours.

you missed how wonderfully he fucked you, but you also missed matthew in general.

he was attentive and you felt like an open book in front of him. he was someone you trusted and you felt real around him. you weren’t pretending to be like the girl your parents wanted you to be, you were you.

he drove you crazy and he proved it more so when he lifted you off the counter and hugged your body, fucking you deeply.

“matt, fuck-”

“please,” you let out, his hips ramming into you as you cried his name.

he uses the wall as his support to help him pleasure you more, causing your vision to go blurry for a second.

it was all so much, but it was matthew and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“i love you,” he said, looking deeply at you as if you were a miracle.

“i love you too,” your moans became louder as you reached your orgasm for the third time. 

matthew didn’t stop this time, instead he toyed with your bundle of nerves pushing you over the edge.

“matthew!” you nearly screamed, hoping no else heard. 

you knew the restaurant inside and out. the walls had decent insulation, but you lost the ability to think when matthew walked in so it was the least of your worries.

“good girl, you’re such a good girl for me,” his thumb rubbed circles on your waist as he reached his climax, pulling out of you and cumming all over your belly.

he kept his hold on you afterward, letting you down carefully when you told him it was okay.

your legs were done for and putting your underwear back on was probably unsanitary as they were on the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were with him.

he wet some paper towels with warm water to help, chuckling at the stupidity of the idea until you thanked him for still caring for you. his body stilled and you realized the uncertainties he probably had.

“matt, i meant it when i said i love you. the only reason i left without a word was because i didn’t want to spoil what we had. i didn’t want to leave, but i needed to,” you caressed his cheeks, feeling them lift when he smiled lightly.

“i know you had your reasons, i just wished we tried. it seemed like you had such little faith in our love,”

“and i regret it, but who says we can’t try again,”

matthew’s face brightened, “really?”

“unless you’re going to leave town without telling me then i don’t see why not,” you joked.

he hugged you while lifting you up.

“wait, how are we going to tell taerae?” he suddenly wondered, you scratched your neck embarrassingly.

“well first i am going to pretend to leave by saying i don’t feel good because obviously,” you gestured towards the marks he left.

“i’m sorry love, i just had to let you know how much you mean to me,”

“anyways, tell them you had diarrhea or something, and i will delete the security footage of the hallway for my parent’s eyes,” 

“we should still tell them though,” matthew mentioned, you sighed at the thought.

“y/n, i’m not going to just hook up and go on dates with you without your parents knowing,” he scolded.

“fine, just don’t mention a word about last summer,”

“as if, the only people who will ever know about those nights are you and i.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed! i'm trying to write once a week because i do love writing these, but sometimes my execution fumbles and with classes starting my thoughts jumble even more. thank you for reading though, i appreciate it!

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[yourlocalstranger123]

Tignari & Cyno

Reader as kind of a sugar daddy/mommy [the atmosphere while typing this is so fcking awkward 🥲]

Warning:NSFW,

Apologies advanced: I'm sorry if you didn't want to use a strap, but right now, I'm not in the mood or have enough energy to write a separate one for F! reader and also F! Reader strap, it has fake cum as she has a button to release it.

This is the backup writing for you to enjoy since im going to take like more than a week to write the flirty villain [kinda?], Creator writing.

Characters: Tignari & Cyno.

Content/parts:

First: crack with sugar daddy/mommy reader. [Kinda?]

—NSFW—

(1.) Cyno's punishment [you're here!]

(2.) Cyno with tignari and care taker Reader. (Or nurse/doctor reader)

(3.) Tignari aphrodisiac mushroom

(4.) Tignari's heat.

(5.) Cyno & tignari x Eremite Reader

Note for content: cyno & tignari x Eremite reader. Ik, it sounds random, but the idea from it was: HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE EREMITES? THEY. ARE. H0T. 😳 YOU CANT SAY NO, THEY AREEEE. PLEASEE. I WOULD LITTERALLY GO ON MY KNEES FOR THEM—

[That what my friend told me to put. Honestly, I would do the same...]

— ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —○ — ○ —

Tignari + Cyno

Cyno litterally makes 10x more jokes than usual around you. Even though it doesn't really make you laugh, you think it's enjoyable. While Tignari....not so much- Which he is glad at. Oh, his reaction is so cute and funny when you gave him limited edition cards. Except when he said that he'll pay for it even though it's a gift...

"This...is for me? W- wait! I'll pay you 1 million mora tor these!"

"Cyno. It's a gi—"

"2 million mora?"

"...." *friendly but firm holding of his shoulders*

"It's. a. gift."

"..."

"..."

"2 million, 500 thousand mora—?"

"Cyno, if you keep talking about giving me mora for a damn gift, I will literally go around Teyvat and even sell my f-cking soul to get more."

"Yes ma'am/sir-" *feeling shivers down his spine. Although....why does he feel hard down there—*

Dang. He made sure he'll never make you mad. Tignari is just mentally slapping himself on the forehead at this. You still give him the limited edition cards everytime it was released.

Tignari always thanked you for your kindness for playing supplies to do what he needs as a forest watcher. Although you still pay and give him stuff even though he has more than enough already....

"Ah, [name]. I already have more than enough. Thanks for offering though—"

"Accept. It."

Tignari with trembling hands as he accepts your forceful gift. Yeah, he ain't going to be on your bad or evil side. Hope to the archons that Cyno doesn't go too far.

....At least he can spoil himself with your gifts.

~`♡°•—~`♡°•—NSFW—~`♡°•—~`♡°•

(1.)

CYNO'S PUNISHMENT

"Hah....how many times have I told you, don't touch yourself?"

Cyno whined. He struggled trying to get free from the ropes and touch you. "M' sorryy!" and "Please!" Comes out of his mouth.

"If you keep whining with that mouth of yours, I'll gag it."

Cyno immediately shuts up when you say that as your hand tightens around his thigh. Letting out a whimper as a plea.

"First, you went home injured without even stopping to get a doctor or even at Tignari's. His house is way closer! And now you're breaking our rules? Touching yourself without permission. Now that's not what good boys do."

Cyno whined, wanting to beg for your mercy and forgiveness, but you didn't let him. He choked on a moan as he felt your knee rubbing against his crotch.

"Aren't you enjoying this too much? Maybe I shouldn't touch you for a whole week...."

Cyno cried a plea to keep touching him. He leaned onto your shoulder, sobbing in pleasure as it overwhelmed him.

Suddenly, Tignari came in. He paused as he saw the sight of Cyno tied up on your bed, and you pinning Cyno down on it. You turned around seeing tignari cover his drooling mouth as his ears slightly tilted downwards. His face is red as his ears twitched.

Tignari just stands there, watching the lewd scene of Cyno panting as he begs to have your touch. Tignari snapped out of his thoughts when you told him to come here. He kneeled beside you, gripping his pants in hopes you don't know. You rub his ears as he softly moans. Biting his lips to refrain the noise further but failing. His ears twitched when he saw Cyno already looked fucked out when you finally start stroking him as you finger him, kissing his prostate. You can feel his hole tightening and his cock twitching for attention, knowing that he'll cum.

"P- please? Wan- Na- cUuM!!"

Tignari tried helping him get over the edge, but you stopped him by tugging his tail, which maid him yelp as pre-cum sticks onto his pants. Cyno's eyes shot wide open as you stopped your movement, edging him. He squirmed as he clenched around nothing. He started sobbing, spreading his arms open and closing and opening his hands, wanting you to come over to him and touching him :(

He was laid down on the bed as Tignari got on top of him. Leaning in to kiss him. You let what Tignari wishes and desires to do with Cyno as you watch in amusement. Cyno pants in heavy blush, silently whining at Tignari to touch him already. Tignari easily gave in his pleading, taking off his pants and undergarments. Pumping both of their cocks.

Tignari's ears twitched as the fully tilted downwards. Cyno's legs started to tremble as he covered his mouth. They both rolled their eyes, saliva running down their chin as they both looked fucked out. Tignari finally fell on Cyno as his body gave up, supporting him.

Cyno flinched when he felt a cold medal going into his hole. He moaned into the sensation as he squirmed. It was a butt plug. You started fingering tignari as he whined but didn't stop you. Instead, he slowly tried thrusting back to make you go deeper as his head was thrown back when he felt your fingers abusing his prostate.

"Ngh— [name]...! Stop teasing me and put it in already– UgAhhH~!"

He felt his mind gone blank when you started pistoling his hole. He bit Cyno's shoulder to refrain his desperate moans, leaving a mark. Cyno soon felt pleasure overridden pain, whimpering in pleasure. Cyno watches everything drowsily with lust as he gets hard again. He kissed Tignari, making out with him.

"Mnm~ ah!! W- wait, slow down! I'm cuMinG!"

He came, ears twitching as Cyno grabs him and kisses him. The last string snapped when Tignari clenched around you, making you cum in him as he whined from being do full

F! Reader: You decided to finally give him his little reward [unlike Cyno, who broke the rule] pressing the button as Tignari drooled at the feeling of being so full

You put Tignari on the other side of the bed. Cyno starts to kneel on his knees, obediently waiting for you. He laid his head on your legs, eyes practically saying that he wants to have his turn to be ruined and fucked.

He teased you and tried to rile you up by showing the butt plug you put in him.

"Please....I've been good, haven't I?"

Pouting for your attention. You pretended to be thinking about it even though you'll give him a reward anyway.

I- I'll ride you! Pleasee? I just want you in me!!"

And here he is, riding you like it's the last time. He felt so full of you, touching the bulge that was caused by you, made him closer to the edge. You put your hands on his hips, helping him get to his climax as he cries a silent scream. He flopped onto your chest as he snores and slept soundly. You should probably wash them early in the morning, but for now, they will sleepily cuddle you.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 26: SHOWER SEX Sōsuke Aizen x F! Arrancar! Reader

Requested by @muzansfangs ➡ Hi! Since you are literally one of my favorite authors, I would like to submit a request for the kinktober event! I would love to read Aizen + shower sex. I trust in your abilities blindly. Add whateve kinks you like! I don’t remember if I had to specify the gender of the reader. In that case, I would like f!reader. Thank you for your hard work and for blessing us with your works! tw: mdni. bathtub sex. praising. vag. arrancar! reader wc: 1.2k masterlist

The sound of dripping water echoing all around the biggest bathhouse you have ever seen. His head thrown back, his chocolate hair too. Arms strong but also lean helps his naked body to float as he grabs from the sides of the tub.

You take some time to admire his beautiful physique. Abs barely visible from over the water level, protruding collarbones, prominent Adam’s apple and the sharpest mandible framing his relaxing façade.

“What, (Name)?” he asks, surprising you with the tray and a cup of tea on your hands.

“I’m sorry, Aizen-sama. I… brought your tea, where should I leave it?” you ask, stuttering. How could you forget how much of a powerful being he is? Of course he could sense your presence… you’ve been created by himself.

Sosuke opens his eyes and after sighing, he turns his head to you. Him, in that sterile environment with everything so white as everything in Las Noches, stands out in such delightful imagery.

“Bring it to me” he commands, with a soft smile on his lips but eyes full of impure intentions.

You nod, and fast enough bring the tea closer to him. You are aware of his nudity, but still try to act as if he was fully clothed… even if your eyes couldn’t get away from the running drops coming from his wet hair to his chest.

Your lips barely part, letting soft sighs of warm breath scape in between them. You slowly kneel on the ground to serve him the tea, you shouldn’t be above your Lord.

Your pupils dilate as he lifts his back just a little, allowing some more of his belly to emerge from the water. Aizen Sosuke is the definition of temptation, of lust, of need…

“Heh… You like what you see?” he asks, breaking the enchantment all of a sudden. “Excuse me, Sir. I didn’t mean to look, I…” you quickly excuse yourself, although your cheeks get on fire and your breathing accelerated.

The ting of the porcelain cup on your hand echoes as much as the water drops… the more you tremble to keep it steady as you pretend to serve him, the more it resonates. And Aizen is delighted, because if there is something that pleases him is when people consider him a god. He enjoys intimidating you as everybody else.

“You seem to be having trouble to serve me a cup of tea today, (Name)… leave the teapot aside for me, please” he orders, always politely but still perversely.

You leave everything on the floor, bowing before him. “I’m sorry, Aizen-sama. I am so unworthy of serving you!” you repeat, hitting your forehead on the wet floor of his bathroom.

He takes his hand to his chin, observing your pathetic intent for mercy, and stops your whining.

“(Name), you might have trouble serving me tea… but I know you are good with other tasks, aren’t you? Come here, help me bathe” he commands, offering your hands the privilege of touching his godly -not so pure- flesh.

You blink, as he stands up. His whole anatomy surfaces, showing you his attributes with absolutely no shame. Aizen extents his hand for you to grab it, as the very depiction of a godly creature inviting you to heaven.

You swallow. A trembling hand of yours touches his, and with his help you stand up from the floor.

“Very well… now, use this to rub my chest” he indicates, giving you a piece of white cloth imbued in water and a soapy substance.

You take it in between your hands; the cloth is warm and so is the water and your core. Your quivering hand approaches his right pec with delicacy, almost as if you were about to touch something fragile.

Aizen smiles lovingly, looking at you in the same way a master looks at his dog. You are, to him, inferior. And still, cute, so very beautiful.

Slowly tracing circles on his flesh, you let a fine mantle of foam. Your eyes, fixed in the pores of his skin, are battling against your own need not to look any further… down, down where his sin start.

However, and besides not watching, pulled by the transgressive force of desire, you lost the battle against morality… you let your cheek to be pressed right in the middle of his chest.

He gasps, would it be a lie to say he wasn’t surprised. Aizen plans it all, but still… there are some types of physical contact that are simply unforeseen. A man whose life has always revolved around being lonely, breaking limits with no mercy for a higher mean, can still get amazed at a sudden show of love.

Sosuke takes some time to think; never has he ever stuttered… but this time he did; and the final decision meant for him to turn off his mind and let desire to take over. This time, as he learnt the Hogyoku was supposed to do, he just let his heart manifest its true desires…

A heavy hand falls on the crown of your head. Though hefty, it’s also delicate and caring. Aizen presses your face against his chest, you can hear the heart inside pumping harder and faster.

“You love me that much, (Name)?” “I love you more than much, my Lord… with all my soul” “Your soul? Mh… I see”

He sighs, not annoyed but pleased. And his hands pass around your waist, pulling you inside the tub swiftly.

You get your white and black uniform all wet, things he doesn’t mind and also enjoys. The transparency of it, showing hard nipples through. The soaking skirt, attaching to your skin, showing your sex.

“Come here” he murmurs, kissing you with a class that cannot be found in another man. It’s also perverse and deadly, and you are all about losing your life for it.

Slowly, softly… both sliding down. Hips straddled on his lap, the water playing with the hem of your skirt, making it float and dance with the way you hump on his hardness.

Sosuke presses you down with his hands on the small of your back; your hands, hang loosely on his shoulder blades. His lips attacking your neck, and the breasts he freed as he tore your uniform.

And the more his kisses go down, the more your back arches with him holding you with playful fingers along your spine. Your hair rains on your back, your cheeks tinted in black drops as your make up has started to smear.

“You know you are here because I created you? And you are here because I wanted to, right? He whispers, kissing in between your breasts, down your sternum.

“Yes, Aizen-sama. I am beyond grateful because you chose me, my Lord. I am completely devoted to you” you murmur, feeling his sex search for your entrance.

“Would you be a good girl and let me fuck you?” he asks, -in reality he doesn’t need to-

You alone lift your hips to help him accede faster to your insides, you are desperate… “Yes, my Lord… please, fuck me”

Aizen smirks, tracing circles with his index on your lower belly around your hollow. And with his free hand, he guides his shaft into you.

Who knows, maybe you were just one more of his Arrancar… Or maybe you were created from a piece of his own very soul, because when he penetrated you, it felt like two forces were finally rejoined…

Taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️

[nalyra-dreaming]

“Took him to that banquet, where the men there... well, took liberties.” Except they didn’t. That’s the gag. They tried. They offered their rings and their jewels and Marius entertains them all while giving Amadeo knowing looks. Armand describes these looks as “secretive” and “teasing” because he knew that none of the men were going to make it out of there alive. Marius is literally toying with them. “I couldn't help but smile. Kill them, I thought, slaughter them. I felt fetching and even beautiful.” (TVA)

He KNEW Marius would never make him do anything he didn’t wanna do. “Martino, kiss my child if he'll allow it, and mark you, be gentle when you do." (TVA)

One would think so called book experts would be the first to point out the misinformation being spread about the banquet scene, but they’re not. In fact, you’re actively contributing to it with nothing to back it up. So I have to ask, just why are you making it sound like something happened when it clearly didn’t? It’s okay to admit that not every change being made for the show aligns with what’s actually in the book.

*sighs*

(you're the nonny who got pissed at me for saying that Marius did not kill Santino decades after Amadeo's abduction, aren't you. When it's clearly a play on centuries...)

Let us let the text give the whole scene, okay? Or, more of the scene, than the one sentence you picked (since it's a rather long one).

The red-haired man leaned forward, deep into the flirt, and put the goblet right against my lip. "Little David, you'll grow up to be the King, remember? Oh, I would worship you now, tender-cheeked little man that you are, and beg for one psalm from your harp, just one, were it given with your own will." My Master whispered low, "Can you grant a man's dying request?" "I think he is dead!" said the gray-haired man with obnoxious loud- ness. "Look, Martino, I think I did kill him; his head's bleeding like a damned tomato. Look!" "Oh, shut up about him!" said Martino, the redhead, without taking his eyes off mine. "Do grant a dying man's request, little David," he went on. "We are all dying, and I for you, and that you die with me, just a little, Sir, in my arms? Let us make a little game of it. It will amuse you, Marius De Romanus. You'll see I ride him and stroke him with one artful rhythm, and you'll behold a sculpture of flesh that becomes a fountain, as what I pump into him comes forth from him in my hand." He cupped his hand as if he had my organ already in it. He kept his eyes on me. Then in a low whisper, he said, "I'm too soft to make my sculpture. Let me drink it from you. Have mercy on the parched." I snatched the goblet out of his wavering hand and drank down the wine. My body tightened. I thought the wine would come back up and spew. I made it go down. I looked at my Master. "This is ugly, I hate it."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, barely moving his lips. "There's beauty all around!" "Damned if he isn't dead," said the gray-haired man. He kicked the body of Francisco on the floor. "Martino, I'm out of here." "Stay, Sir," said Marius. "I would kiss you good night." He clapped his hand over the gray-haired man's wrist and lunged at his throat, but what did it look like to the red-haired one, who gave it only a bleary glance before he continued his worship? He filled my goblet again. A moan came from the gray-haired man, or was it from Marius? I was petrified. When he turned from his victim, I would see even more blood teeming in him, and I would have given all the world to see him white again, my marble god, my graven Father in our private bed. The red-haired man rose before me as he leant over the table and put his wet lips on mine. "I die for you, boy!" he said. "No, you die for nothing," said Marius. "Master, not him, please!" I cried. I fell back, nearly losing my balance on the bench. My Master's arm had come between us, and his hand covered the red-haired man's shoulder. "What's the secret, Sir?" I cried frantically, "the secret of Santa Sofia, the one we must believe?"

The red-haired man was utterly befuddled. He knew he was drunk. He knew things around him didn't make sense. But he thought it was because he was drunk. He looked at Marius's arm across his chest, and he even turned and looked at the fingers clutching his shoulder. Then he looked at Marius and so did I. Marius was human, utterly human. There was no trace of the impermeable and indestructible god left. His eyes and his face simmered in the blood. He was flushed as a man from running, and his lips were bloody, and when he licked them now, his tongue was ruby red. He smiled at Martino, the last of them, the only one left alive. Martino pulled his gaze away from Marius and looked at me. At once he softened and lost his alarm. He spoke with reverence. "In the midst of the siege, as the Turks stormed the church, some of the priests left the altar of Santa Sofia," he said. "They took with them the chalice and the Blessed Sacrament, our Lord's Body and Blood. They are hidden this very day in the secret chambers of Santa Sofia, and on the very moment that we take back the city, on the very moment when we take back the great church of Santa Sofia, when we drive the Turks out of our capital, those priests, those very priests will return. They'll come out of their hiding place and go up the steps of the altar, and they will resume the Mass at the very point where they were forced to stop." "Ah," I said, sighing and marveling at it. "Master," I said softly. "That's a good enough secret to save a man's life, isn't it?" "No," said Marius. "I know the story, and he made our Bianca a whore."

The red-haired man strained to follow our words, to fathom the depth of our exchange. "A whore? Bianca? A murderer ten times over, Sir, but not a whore. Nothing so simple as a whore." He studied Marius as though he thought this heated passionately florid man was beautiful, indeed. And well he was. "Ah, but you taught her the art of murder," said Marius almost tenderly, his fingers massaging the man's shoulder, while with his left arm he reached around Martino's back, until his left hand might lock on the man's shoulder with his right. He bent his forehead to touch Martino's temple. "Hmmm," Martino shook himself all over. "I've drunk too much. I never taught her any such thing." "Ah, but you did, you taught her, and to kill for such paltry sums." "Master, what is it to us?" "My son forgets himself," said Marius, still looking at Martino. "He forgets that I am bound to kill you on behalf of our sweet lady, whom you so finagled into your dark, sticky plots." "She rendered me a service," said Martino. "Let me have the boy!" "Beg pardon?" "You mean to kill me, so do it. But let me have the boy. A kiss, Sir, that's all I ask. A kiss, that is the world. I'm too drunk for anything else!" "Please, Master, I can't endure this," I said. "Then, how will you endure eternity, my child? Don't you know that's what I mean to give you? What power under God is there that can break me?" He threw a fierce angry glance at me, but it seemed more artifice than true emotion. "I've learnt my lessons," I said. "I only hate to see him die." "Ah, yes, then you have learnt. Martino, kiss my child if he'll allow it, and mark you, be gentle when you do." It was I who leant across the table now and planted my kiss on the man's cheek. He turned and caught my mouth with his, hungry, sour with wine, but enticingly, electrically hot. The tears sprang to my eyes. I opened my mouth to him and let his tongue come into me. And with my eyes shut, I felt it quiver, and his lips become tight, as if they had been turned to hard metal clamped to me and unable to close. My Master had him, had his throat, and the kiss was frozen, and I, weeping, put out my hand blindly to find the very place in his neck where my Master's evil teeth had driven in. I felt my Master's silky lips, I felt the hard teeth beneath them, I felt the tender neck. I opened my eyes and pulled myself away. My doomed Martino sighed and moaned and closed his lips, and sat back in my Master's grip with his eyes half-mast.

So, let's see.

I've highlighted a few instances. And yes, I DO see these as Martino here take liberties. Now, I'm not sure how it is with your reading comprehension, but it's very clear to me that an offered kiss on a cheek and one taken open mouthed are two different things.

And it's not even the first kiss either, as highlighted above.

Oh, and above that, the "bantering "how he would ride him until he makes Armand come".

And it makes Armand want to throw up.

That is what I mean with "liberties".

Now, you obviously can call this as you want.

I CALL IT TAKING LIBERTIES.

And Marius let it happen, actually more or less coaxed him into it as well!! Oh, yes, he always planned to kill Martino - for Bianca. Well. But do grant that dying man his last wish Amadeo, hmmm, how about it. /sarcasm off. What do you want me to say to that.

So, actually I DO think that it is in the book. At the very least hinted at. The "ankles of the boys" and all that, too. Want me to dig that out, too?

So, nonny:

Take your passive aggressive asks elsewhere in the future, please.

Because despite your claim I CAN back it up.

[withnofreetime]

HETALIA ☆ WORLD STARS (514)

Germany/Japan: Este hombre está muerto, pero no le han avisado.

Translation notes at the end: ‘cuz I took a lot of “creative freedoms(?)” and sometimes I forgot the meaning of words (“kanji”). Warning: I don’t know Italian, German (my sister knows) and French (a bit). Bad words.

T/N:

Page 1.

"Fratellone", an informal way to say "Big brother".

Page 2.

"All roads lead to my house", probably Sir Hima was trying to emphasize the proverb: "All roads lead to Rome".

"Avoglia", has too many meanings and uses, but in this case is "Of course!"

"Stronzi", plural of "Stronzo", literal meaning is "t*rd".

Page 3.

"Clown", I wanted France to speak French, but… there's no point...

"Bastardo", "bast*ard".

Page 4.

"C'est bon?!", two things: 1) it means "It's okay?" and 2) the diavolic song "Bon Bon Bon / C'est Bon C'est Bon!

"Merci", "thanks".

"Je vous apprécie!", in France is not common to say "I love you", so this is the most similar (and not creepy) I could find (thanks to French people of Reddit).

Page 5.

"Italie", "Italy".

Page 6.

"The City of Light", is called that because it was the first city to use gas as a source of street lights.

Page 7.

"En conséquence", because of "La Déclaration des Droits de L'Homme et du Citoyen". (Joke)

"Vaffanculo", a bad word, with a different meaning than the literal translation: "F*ck you".

"German tourists", in 2019, more than 12 million Germans travelled to Italy, and they are by far the number one. Ironically, for France (2018) it is almost the same with approximately 12 million German tourists arrived, and more than 18 million (2019) spent more nights there (second place, tho Italy is 58 million).

"Oddio", "oh, god!"

Page 8.

"Na", german slang "Hey!" (??)

Page 9.

"Je suis vraiment très belle!", "I'm really so beautiful!"

"Merci beaucoup", "Thank you very much!"

"Vero", an agreement word.

Page 10.

"England smile", I had two theories:

1) The story that Italy, the genius, has it all figured out is true and England knows it, or...

2) It has something to do with the fact that France's most visited tourists are from the UK, so sharing/robbing France's credit for winning "alone"; but it's unlikely because I don't see the point with what Francis says below.

"Che palle!", used to indicated frustration or annoyance, don't want to write down the literal meaning.

Page 11.

"Pfui" is a German expression to show disgust.

"È inutile piangere sul latte versato", an Italian idiom that translates to: "No use crying over spilt milk".

"Nein", "No".

"All part of the plan–!?", I have faith in Italy.

Introduction.

"Este hombre está...", "This man is dead, but he hasn't been warned", my words towards Italy and France.

Is there a problem/error? Please say so!

[myosotisa]

mercy - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖ summary: It always goes the exact same way. Always has been, always will be. But he never stops hoping. Hoping that maybe this time... Maybe you'll finally choose him.

‖ tags: smut, minors dni, angsty smut, sad ending, infidelity/cheating, affair, unrequited love. slight 'sir' kink, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, doggy style, spanking, degradation kink, creampie. its really angsty smut thats literally it. i wrote it all at once and im not editing it ok thanks

‖ inspiration: mercy - couros remix

‖ word count: 2.1k

--

It's something that I do for the fun of it I enjoy being the fool Mess me up, be cruel Something that I do for the fun of it Make me beg, make me beg Don't ever show me no mercy

"Eddie," your voice pours out of your throat as a whine, head thrown back as your hips roll gently against his own.

You're on his lap again. Skirt pushed up to your hips, fingers twisted in the shoulders of his shirt. He doesn't know how it happened again as his hands sit high on your hips, a respectful touch, and tries to ignore how the blood rushes south as you grind.

The war in his mind rages on as if the ending is not already written. As if the battle doesn't always end the same way, as if every little twitch and every little noise you make doesn't feel like a battering ram. As if he hasn't already lost the moment your leg swings over his lap, the moment his name leaves your lips.

Your head returns to center and he sees the want there. The heave of your chest, nipples already peaked beneath the fabric, the warmth of your skin visible as the blood rushes beneath. The depth of your pupils as they dilate further just at the sight of him.

"Eds, please," comes your whimpered plea. And he is helpless to resist.

Hands trace down, over your hips, the bunched up fabric of your little skirt that you wore on purpose, to the plush skin of your thighs. "What do you need, baby?" He asks, knowing the answer won't be what he wishes it was.

You dip forward to mush the tip of your nose against his, lips hovering as the roll of your hips stutters in its rhythm. "Need you, Eddie." Tries to ignore the twist in the pit of his stomach as his heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest.

"Yeah?" His hands push up slowly, palms flat to your skin and thumbs dipped toward the sensitive flesh in-between. Goosebumps rise beneath them as they trail fire up and down but never close enough to where you want him. "How do you need me, princess?"

A shudder runs down your spine as your eyelids flutter, a sharp gasp felt as you inhale so close to his lips. You've always liked the way he talks to you, have told him 100 times, and he uses that knowledge to please you. He just wants to please you.

"Want it rough," you murmur, pressing even closer so your lips brush his as you speak. "Want you to be mean to me."

He tries to ignore how his cock twitches in his pants and how your hips instinctually press down for more. One of his hands skates high, slipping between the two of you and cupping the heat between your legs. Your mouth falls open, breath puffing hot against his mouth as he palms the fabric covering your hot cunt, listening to the catch of your breath when he presses the tip of his finger in where the fabric is soaked the most. Another soft moan falls from you, your eyebrows pitching up as your eyes pinch closed.

You're so beautiful like this, he thinks. You're beautiful all the time but there's something ethereal about how your face contorts in pleasure. Pleasure at your touch, the shadows cooes, coaxing him in.

His tone drops with a bob of his Adams apple. "Go lay down on the bed, panties and shirt off. Skirt stays on."

You perk up immediately, a happy smile lighting up your face as you push yourself off of him and to your feet. "Yes, sir," you purr, twisting on your heel so your skirt lifts enough to show the crease of your ass cheek before you flounce down the hall with a swing in your hips.

Eddie rubs his sweaty palms along the fabric covering his thighs. His dick is absolutely throbbing in his pants but he just needs a second. To collect himself. To make sure he's ready to do what you want him to do, be what you want him to be. He just wants to be what you want him to be.

When he walks into his room, you're just as he asked. Left bare in only your short skirt, knees bent and spread wide as you present your glistening pussy to him. Begging him to take it, to take you.

He dives in with abandon, sinks into the role. He presses two fingers into you as you hiss at the stretch, laving his tongue across your clit to distract you from the burn. He buries his face in your pussy until it's hard to breathe, flicking his tongue across the swollen bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips just to make your back arch off the bed. Sweet noises fly from you as he slowly thrusts his fingers into your tight hole, curling them up until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and your thighs tremble against his ears.

His tongue laps at you while his fingers press in until your hand grips his hair tight, holding him in place as you grind your hips up onto his face. He murmurs praise against your throbbing clit as you take what you want, as you use him for your own pleasure. He coaxes the first orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers as easy as breathing. Well versed in how best to make you fall apart by now.

When you convulse around his fingers, he lifts his lips from your clit, mouth dipping down to where his fingers continue to draw the moans from your throat, licking around where they press to drink in your slick. Doesn't let a single drop go to waste as it leaves you in rivulets each time his fingers pull a little bit out just to push back in. He licks across his own knuckles, the tip of his tongue running along the quivering muscle that draws his fingers in, even dipping down to chase a drip that slides toward your ass. 

He doesn't stop until you're whimpering, hand pushing at his forehead limply, until the drink pitters out to almost nothing. "Eddie, please," you whimper again, nails scratching against his scalp.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks, and there's a little bit too much love in his tone, a little bit too much devotion. He presses kisses along your quivering thighs and hopes you don't notice.

"Need you to fuck me, need it so bad, please Eddie-"

He shushes you, crawling up your body and pausing to nip the delicate skin of your breasts. "I've got you, baby, gonna take care of you."

His shirt is pulled over his head and discarded who knows where. Pants hastily undone and pushed off along with boxers. Then he's gripping your hips, flipping you over and pulling you up onto your knees as you squeal. He wedges himself between your calves, eyes locked on the swollen lips of your cunt as your hole clenches in anticipation. 

She wants it rough, the shadow purrs, wants you to ruin her.

And he's helpless to resist.

The moment he presses inside you, you're letting out a high pitched moan into his pillows, hips pushing back to try to take more of him, get him deeper. His hands tremble on your hips as he grips them, eyebrows pinched tight together and lips parted as he tries to reign himself in. He doesn't want this to be over too fast, doesn't want to disappoint. If you left disappointed, you might never come back.

He shifts his hips back and presses forward hard, using his grip on your hips to pull your ass back to slap against his pelvis. A harsh gasp hits his ears as he sets into a punishing pace, assisting you in the rock back against it as you silently beg for even more. The skin between his fingers bulges out from how hard he's gripping you, your breaths leaving you in hiccups each time he drives his cock home.

"You're so big, Eddie," you keen, the side of your face pressed against his pillows. "Feels so fucking good."

"I know, baby, your pussy is fuckin' squeezing me." He groans low in his throat, the shadow pushing forward, filtering into the light in his eyes. "Does he ever fuck you like this? He ever give you what you need like I do?"

A high pitched moan echoes into the room along with skin slapping skin, your walls fluttering around him. "No, Eddie!"

A harsh slap against the curve of your ass has your back arching, while he tries to ignore that twist in his gut that accompanies the idea of hurting you. She wants it like this.

"No, what?" He barks, hips pistoning in and out of you as fast as he's capable of.

"No, Eddie, no one fucks me like you do," your voice is a borderline cry down, the eye he can see peaking with water. "No one makes me feel like you do."

"Damn right," the shadow rejoices, expanding and growing as he slides a hand to your front and circles a fingertip against your clit in reward. You pitch forward, not sure if you want more or less, but he grips tight to keep you right where he wants you. "You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over me?"

"Y-yes! I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me - oh fuck - Eddie!"

He sets his thrusts shallower, only pulling out an inch before rolling his hips forward again, pelvis grinding against you. "Come on princess, give it to me. Be a good girl and milk my cock."

Your orgasms are always a loud thing and he relishes in it. His name pours from your lips over and over and over again like it’s the only word you know as your cunt clenches desperately around him. It's almost hard to keep fucking into you with how hard your muscles grip him, like your pussy never wants him to leave. He never wants to leave either.

After easing you through it, circling your clit and rolling his hips until the tension in your muscles fades and gives way to jellied limbs, he presses in hard again, chasing his own release. It doesn’t take long, he’s been holding back since the first moment you moaned his name. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside,” you sigh immediately, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum, send you back home to him with it still dripping out of you?”

Your cunt convulses again, another high pitched moan leaving your lips. “Yeah, Eds, want it so bad. Want your cum inside me, please please pleasepleasepleas-”

His orgasm is a less fantastical thing. Quieter, weaker. His hands shake and his body trembles as his cock jerks inside of you, pressing deep as his cum spills out of him, a quiet whine in the back of his throat as he shakes. He softly thrusts once, twice more before he stills, a shuddering sigh leaving him as his tense muscles finally begin to relax.

You whine as he slips his softening cock out of you, using his grip on your hips to ease you down onto the bed. He collapses beside you, one arm draped over the small of your back as you both lay face down on the sheets and try to catch your breath.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Doesn’t pull you into him like he so desperately wants to do, wrap himself around your body from behind and never let go. Doesn’t press kisses along your shoulders, trail fingers up and down your spine just to feel you shiver and break out in goosebumps again. Doesn’t do anything to break the moment, break the spell, because he knows what comes after.

Here in his bed, here in the afterglow, you’re his. Just his. You want him and he wants you. He satisfied you, gave you what you asked for. He pretends like it’s enough for everything to work out the way he wants it to this time.

Maybe next time he’ll be strong enough to resist when you swing your way onto his lap. But he knows he won’t be. He’ll always take whatever you’re willing to give him and never ask for more.

Having you and getting hurt is better than never having you at all. So he can make peace with this.

-

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-

-

thanks for reading! please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it and i hope you have a good day/night!

[rinhaler]

Rin had you sprawled out on the expensive boucle couch he helped you pick out when the house was still being built. He gave mercy on your thighs, his usual iron grip replaced with feathery fingers gently keeping your legs spread, one hand caressing the soft skin of your leg, the other splayed across your mound with a skilled thumb teasing your clit back and forth. Soft, breathy moans bleed from your spit glossed lips, lifting your hips a little of the seat, his head that rests on your other thigh follows the movement.

“Please Rin, pleasepleaseplease, more baby, I want you so bad,” you couldn’t help but to be a pathetic, desperate mess even though he was barely toying with you. It was just already too much and not enough at the same time. You finally had your closest, most dear friend right where you wanted him.

Rin’s so fucking lost in your dripping cunt he can barely make sense of your pleas, but the better, more intuned half of him takes hold of your words and musters a reply. “I know you fucking do, hang on, honey, I’m getting to it.” He chuckles, so damn cocky, and you can’t stop the smile from taking over your face. Any type of laughter he ever grants you is a gift, something he really only reserves for you. His lips place a wet smack near the crevice of your thighs, so close yet still so far away from where you need him the most.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair, before bringing it up to cup the underside of your breasts. “You had me drooling like a fuckin’ dog,” he begins, meanly twisting one of your nipples, trying to catch his breath and not look pathetic, “before I even had your panties off, so I’m gonna make sure you’re begging and crying until I give this pretty little pussy what she wants, you understand me?” Keeping his dominance, he spanks your cunt once, then twice, earning a high pitched whine from you.

You dumbly nod your head, “Yes, sir!!” The words leave you much too quickly for your liking, trying so hard to keep your regular cool composure, but let’s be honest, that went out the fucking window as soon as he gave you the right wrong look.

-

Hehehehehehehe I’m drunk n high I literally just wrote this in ur ask box lmfaoooo, I love writing under the influence it’s so nice 🤩 question/ statement: I totally think Rin would be a stoner if his gf was, like he can’t NOT participate with you when u get even more giggly and touchy than usual….thoughts? Luv uuuuuuu :D ‼️‼️ 🧋

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH THIS IS SO GOOD MY TOES ARE CURLING MY HEART IS POUNDING I'M SPEECHLESS HELP MEEEEEE omg I cannot wait for the full fic I'm DYING

also the fact that you wrote this in my ask box is making me think of when you'd let a friend doodle on your arm during class 😭😭 so cute

I'm so in love with this man and you're FUELLING ME LIKE CRAAAAZY omg thank you so much for the food.

In regards to Rin smoking I think obviously it depends on the AU or circumstance or whatever but whenever I think of Rin having a girlfriend I like to think he's really possessive and controlling. (This is very specific to me and my desires so please take with a pinch of salt). But I don't think he's a smoker and I think he'd actually be very against it and demand you not to smoke either. I like the idea of him punishing you for disobeying too 😏😏😏 I just think him and Sae are from a quite well to do family and I think he takes his career as a footballer too seriously to dabble in smoking.

Anyway that's just one scenario, obviously skater boy loser boy stoner boy would be way more into it than my iteration!

[magpie-come-east]

I'm gonna be annoying and ask about Aster too. So much about him seems left unsaid and I want to put him in a petri dish

favorite thing about them

It tickles me so much that people really like him. People tell me they like Cyrielle, but it hits so much harder in a good way when people say they love Aster. It's hard to get people invested in OCs- particularly OCs that aren’t there as vehicles to smooch the blorbo- so it makes me feel like I did a good job writing him!

He's kinda the most delightfully quirky character I've ever written. His seething yet outwardly jovial rage is so fun. He's toxic and he knows it.

least favorite thing about them

Much like Cyrielle, I wish I had cared more about his backstory as I was writing him. I wish I had fleshed him out more to make his sudden turn from Ranni's chosen Lord of Lord of Frenzied Flame more organic and clearer.

In fact, since he wasn't the POV character in Gilded Apotheosis- and was pretty much actively getting amnesia in HSPS- I also didn't get much oppertunity to showcase Aster, Ranni, and Blaidd's relationship. Apart from a few vital scenes.

favorite line

This one is hard again! Because I think he shines best in banter and dialogue. He doesn't have a ton of stand-alone banger lines.

This may be cheating. It's not dialogue but it is a thought in his POV:

'Nice girls. He hoped he never saw them again.'

Like it's so encapsulating of who he is at the end of HSPS. He's healing. He's lonely. He's still kind of a dick. But lovable for it.

'The mimic’s hands rose, but did not grasp Aster’s staff or sword. Not even the seal that he kept clipped to his belt. Instead, both hands began to flash a series of gestures ranging from rude to obscene. Brief periods of silent laughter sandwiched between each.'

I just love him

“You know that the Grace-Given Lord is Margit, right?”

Finally an actual quote. This one's just iconic. Please tell that 9 INT woman the truth about her Lord, sir. Just casually drop that in her lap.

brOTP

Aster x Cyrielle. This one I expanded on in the Cyrielle answer to this meme.

Ranni x Aster

Yeah, they're technically married, but they never romantically loved one another. Nonetheless, Ranni's deeply loving nature really stands out in their relationship. Again, it's sad I couldn't show more of Ranni and Aster's relationship. But one of the factors that led to Aster taking on the FF was him learning that Ranni was going to go to the stars without him. In her mind, this was a mercy. To him, it felt like abandonment of the one person that cared for him just as he was. Eccentric warts and all.

OTP

Varre x Aster

I loved that toxic middle-aged yaoi. Reading that third chapter of HSPS still hits so good. If only Aster's brain wasn't literally being melted and if only Varre hadn't been seduced away by Mohg's magnificent breasts! Sad!

nOTP

Aster x Cyrielle - same as before. But really I don't have an intense nOTP otherwise.

random headcanon

If I could go back and add to his backstory, I would expound on his origins. When Godfrey's Tarnished spread out in the lands beyond the Lands Between, Aster's homeland was conquered- or at least menaced- by the marauding, displaced bands. Aster was born of a Lands Between exile and a woman indigenous to the land. But it was not a union made of love. Aster's mother was more or less taken in the conquest. I think this would better explain his general resentment of the Lands Between and the Greater Will- as well as his upset of himself being revived as a Tarnished, too.

unpopular opinion

He's an OC. I don't think there is an unpopular opinion!

song i associate with them

Kingslayer by Bring Me The Horizon!! (Love this one)

The Man Who Sold the World - Midge Ure

Camel by Camel (flashing lights) (youtube.com) <- This thing

favorite picture of them

Rennala's cutscene never disappoints. I love my miserable balding king.

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

Disclaimer: I do not own any Planet Puto Character - Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.This might or might not be a self insert, please don't come for me.

A/N: Am I insane and out of my mind? Yes. Was I in the middle of a creativity block and just pulled this world building shit out of thin air? Also yes.

~Royalty! AU~ INTRODUCTION

"That one looks half decent..."

Lakan smirked as he pointed into you using the sharp end of his sword, not caring if you're already trembling. Is it because of the fear? or maybe it's from being on your knees on the snowy ground with nothing but thin and tattered clothes for god knows how long, you don't really know at this point.

The military general leans down to your level hand grabbing your cheeks roughly and forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me, peasant. What entertaining stuff can you do? Careful about your answer, your life depends on it." His voice, although very soft and playful has that menacing tone that didn't fail to give you goosebumps.

The ground was cold and the air was thick— filled with cries for mercy as Lakan's troops destroy and slaughter whatever they lay eyes on.

"I- I can play instruments and write poetry, Sir." You stuttered as your voice get struck in your throat.

"We're taking this one home." Lakan grinned at your response before letting go of your face.

"This will do for Maliksi's birthday present. Now let's pack up before the enemy's reinforcements arrive. Just set fire to everything then let's call it a day."

The servants looked at you somberly as you were dragged out of the carriage and into the palace gates, the soldiers handling you roughly. You can't blame them, after all you are nothing but a peasant from the losing side of this wretched war. These people are the ruthless victors, their hands soaked with the blood of your fellow civilians that unfortunately got caught in the middle of slaughter.

"Lakan, what is the meaning of this?" A firm voice caught your attention but you kept your head lowered on the ground.

Makisig quickly motioned towards his courtesans to help you stand up as he walked towards Lakan.

"Oh, if it isn't my own brother, the King." Lakan tauntingly said as he bowed slightly. He's always despised the idea of Makisig ascending to the throne despite being younger than him.

That position was meant for him, yet here he is, reduced to being the general who spends more time outside the palace walls instead of seating on that fancy throne he's always dreamt of.

"Cut it out! What are you doing? You do know that the enemies already called defeat and you can't be taking in anymore war prisoners!"

"Prisoner? That one was a present for our youngest brother."

"A present?! Our brother is nothing like you! He won't enjoy such fatuity—"

"And? Who does he take after then? Everyone here knows that the young prince isn't soft like you! Hell, I bet he'll be a better king than you!"

Makisig's royal guards quickly drew blade and pointed it at the general. They will not stand for any slander against the King. It is a crime of treason afterall and will be punishable by death. The King sighed, "Lower your blades! He's still my brother."

Lakan softly chuckled as he turned to walk away. "See? I told you. Soft. Please have your courtesans clean up and dress that girl, then take her to my room. I'll deliver her myself to Maliksi."

You shivered at the first touch of cold water into your skin as the royal courtesans started giving you a bath. You've literally been in crossfire and to say that you are filthy is an understatement. You didn't even know how Lakan was able to spot you amongst the civilians.

No one was talking, probably out of pity for you and what you went through— your kingdom just lost the war, your town was burnt to a crisp, you watched the others getting killed infront of you. You are someone who lost everything.

After your bath, they dressed you up in a fine dress, probably too grand from what you were expecting, and then they proceeded to put your curly hair up in a bun using an intricate pin.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can't help but admire your reflection. Funny what a bath and some fancy fabric can do.

"You look pretty." One of the courtesans whispered as she gave you a kind smile. All of them looked hopeful and sweet, probably wishing you good fate inside the very walls of this palace just like them. They all lined up as they silently lead you to Lakan's quarters.

"Bring her in and leave." Lakan said from the inside of the room before the royal courtesans can even knock. They did just that but before they finally close the door, they looked at each other before giving you a reassuring nod.

As soon as the doors closed, the royal courtesans raced towards Maliksi's quarters. He wasn't the friendliest towards them, and they will surely be yelled at for disturbing him at this time, but they all know Lakan and the poor fate every other lady went through after spending time alone with him in his quarters. They cannot just do nothing after sending you to your possible doom.

Lakan's room is dark yet you can feel his stares boring a hole to your very being. "Guess I was right, you do look good."

The general smirked as he slowly walked towards you. "A poet and a musician doesn't have a right to look this good. It'll be such a waste to just give you to my youngest brother afterall." He softly said, his hot breath fanning into your neck as he leans in while his hand reaches out to slightly slide the dress down and reveal your left shoulder.

"Maybe I should get a taste first, before giving you to Maliksi."

You grabbed fistfuls into your dress as you held yourself from talking back or trying fighting him off— you knew this man would not hesitate in killing you if you do something as much as turn down his advances.

You can feel warm tears form and trickle down your cheeks, knowing that you can't ask him to stop if you wanted to live.

"I don't accept leftovers, brother. It's rude to gift someone stuff that you already used." A cold voice emerged from the shadows as you felt being snatched from Lakan's grip and being pulled as someone held you gently by your waist.

"Gods! Maliksi, can you stop doing that?! I know that you're the only one blessed with magic among us but just stop popping out of the shadows, it creeps me out. Can't you use a fucking door like a normal person?"

"It's called teleportation magic. I didn't popped out of the shadows, your room is just as dark as your soul. Anyway, you boldly declared this lady as a present for me earlier and I have eyewitnesses. I came here to pick her up." Maliksi nonchalantly said as he rolled his eyes, still holding you close to him.

"It's those courtesans...I knew it! If it weren't for the King's protection, I would've already cut their heads off." Lakan muttered underneath his breath while he gritted his teeth. "Aaaww, come on, brother! Can't we share just this once—"

Maliksi's expression hardened as he looked Lakan up and down. You can feel just how intimidating this man is despite him being shorter than the general.

"I believe we already established that since we were kids....That if you try touching what's mine, I'll be burning your fingers off." The young prince coldly said, his grip on your waist slightly tightening.

Lakan chuckled as he slowly backed away. He wasn't irritated at how his youngest brother is acting— oh, this is so much better than him being a big pretentious softy just like the King.

"As you wish, brother." The general smiled, everything is going according to his plan afterall.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Hi! Welcome to the Royalty! Au that involves Planet Puto (philmytcrea au) characters. I do not own them, they are HC's Original Characters.

Please follow and support them here: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-emilz-de-philz / @ask-emilz-de-philz

I wanted to take time to clarify that this is fiction on fiction.

Yes, Lakan, Makisig, and Maliksi are brothers in this AU.

Yes, we hab King! Makisig here.

Lakan is the oldest, but Makisig was the one who ascended to the throne after their father died.

Yes, there is an ongoing war and Y/N (You/ Reader) is from the enemy kingdom who just declared Loss/ Defeat against Makisig's Kingdom.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND APPRECIATING WHAT I WRITE! ;;

[lachelledavies-winchester]

"You're wearing me out, baby. The chupa chups move the other day was so unfair."

"Don't call me baby," she warned him, but his hand on her butt distracted her and she went back on the attack. "Too bad I had something bigger in mind."

The man returned the piercing stare as he saw her slowly descend, kneeling down and unbuttoning his belt with a bold smirk.

"What's on your mind?"

"What does it look like to you? I'm helping a friend get distracted."

"Far be it from me to refuse, but if they come in..."

"Then I see you are already distracted enough not to have noticed that I closed the hook."

The woman could feel the heat of his greedy gaze making her skin burn; she could no longer hold back all that excitement, she needed to let off steam.

"Come on, no porn dialogue? You know I'm not amused." she provoked him, and he smiled.

"Look what you've done. Why don't you fix the problem with that pretty little mouth?"

"No, I don't want to." she grumbled in a high-pitched voice but continued to curl a few strands with a finger and smile mischievously to let him know she was playing along. 

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear; did you think I would let you be a little slut without consequences?" the hunter's voice was almost a grunt, and those words made her skin crawl with excitement. 

He gave her a softer look, and she smiled to reassure him that it was okay with her. 

"I'm not the type to let you do something that I don't want. It's your turn to show me how you like it."

With a sharp gesture he pushed her head forward to his erection.

"Good girl, take it all." he first gave her a few slaps on the cheek.

"I don't know what to do, sir. I never have."

"Oh no?" the man whispered with effort.

He took to rubbing and slamming his member on the provocative face of the woman, who kept waiting for him with her tongue out.

"Oh, do you see you're good? Let me see what you can do with that tongue." he gasped as he watched her work on him without taking his eyes off her. 

The red-hot flattened tongue brushed each spot as he took it out of her mouth, then descended slowly and helped herself with one hand so as not to overlook anything.

"How good you are." he whispered to her, enjoying the sensation of her moist mouth swallowing his length, caressing her face and gathering her hair to one side.

He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, squinting his eyes from the pleasure that was making him let out increasingly loud moans.

"You idiot, they can hear you even in Canada like this." "Please continue." he moaned and with a hand on her head pulled her to him; he loved being in control, it gave him the feeling that not all of life was at the mercy of events he couldn't handle, and she liked to have someone else tell her what to do from, but she liked surrendering dominance as much as having it and she was certain that at that point she had the upper hand-literally.

"Now tell me 'I lost, you won.'"

"What a son of a bitch."

"I'm waiting." she urged. The Winchester closed his eyes as she continued, more ruthless than ever, rising and falling on his ledge slowly and forcing him to gasp out one moan after another. "Say it." 

"All right, you win." he blurted out and took to thrusting his pelvis to independently manage the rhythm until he burst with pleasure, but managed to pull out before he finished, a gesture that Lachelle could not help but register, appreciating it as much as she appreciated that he had continually asked her permission with even a glance, making her feel the urge to try without disrespecting her.

[thee-great-enigma]

When you pick dogs or cats, or any similar animal really, up by their scruff they submit immediately, it's instinct.

Price knows that

Animal hybrid mreader

He knows damn well that all he has to do is pick you up by the back of your neck and you stop snarling and back talking

He knows that he just has look at the back of your neck by now and you're already quivering

He uses it to tame you when you first join TF141 and to keep you in line from then on

He does it during sex too, tugging you by the back of your neck as he slams into you or while he lets you rut into him, whatever he feels like giving you at the time.

He especially uses it when your heat comes round, tugging your clingy hot body away from him by your scruff so he can actually focus on his work.

And if you try to protect your scruff by covering it with your hands or a scarf?

Well you're fucked, literally and figuratively

"You're gonna stop with that attitude, muppet." Price growled into your ear, making it twitch as he pistoned his hips in and out of you. This was one of the rare times he decided to top, leaving your angry red cock abandoned and stuffed between your stomach and a pillow.

"Ah- ah- D- didn't..have an att- itude s- sir..." You whined back, barely able to think as his cock head pressed relentlessly against your prostate, making you jolt with each thrust.

It was never as much fun when he topped, which was the point of it being a punishment.

"Coverin' your neck is plenty attitude. How many times have I told you not to do it?" He grumbled, voice gruff and husky as he tugged your hair to lift your head so you could turn and look at him. He brought you into a rough kiss, his beard rubbing against your face as he nibbled your lips and tugged on it a little, making you whine.

"I- I'm sorry sir, won't happen again- please- ah- p- promise- I promise it won't happen again- captain please mercy- slow down–" You pleaded, clawing at whatever you could reach.

"Damn right it won't. It happens again and I'll start lockin' you in a cage with a vibe up your ass, you understand, brat?" You quickly nodded. Pleased with your answer, Price grabbed your cock and stroked it at the same pace his cock rammed into your hole at. You clawed and begged to cum, and he let you, kissing the back of your neck as he soon followed suit.

"There's my good boy. Behave next time or I'll make it worse."

[rochenn]

dooku captured AGAIN please please please <3 :D :D (I make no apologies for not giving this post even 5 minutes up before sending this ask, you know how I do)

No apologies needed <33 You were first to ask about this one by a small margin, all of you are FAST hehe

Anyway!! Dooku captured AGAIN. For my amusement because I love putting this guy at the mercy of literally anything. And I also love making favs interact. Hence, I present: the 212th, by virtue of wartime luck (or misfortune), managing to get a hold of this guy while he's in the wrong place at the wrong time. The problem: they are stranded on a deserted planet without communications and took a heavy hit. This idea came to life because I needed, and I do mean NEEDED, for Dooku and Cody to meet.

I think something about interacting with Dooku through Cody's POV is so fascinating—usually, we view him in a Jedi/Sith context and through the eyes of someone like Obi-Wan or one of his old friends-turned-enemies. But we rarely get the insight of someone who only sees him as what the wider galaxy knows him as: a politician. No emotional baggage. Just public enemy #1 right there. It REALLY tickles my brain.

Obi-Wan will also be there. And of course, Dooku won't be a well-behaved prisoner at all :D

Part of the opening scene under the cut:

By all means, this mission was a complete disaster. 

There: a gash in the golden forest, cut by the Vigilance’s descent. If one walked her length, scrambling over the mounds of damp, dark soil and the trees she had displaced, the direness of her situation would become quickly apparent. Fuel bled from her stern. The bridge, so far above, creaked like a frozen lake. Holes and dents marred her hull. Her bow lay bruised, half-buried in this faraway planet.

There: men writhing and groaning, and yet other men so still beneath their blankets. Three-thousand casualties, the CMO had said. Another three-thousand walking wounded. Two thirds of the legion out of commission in full or in part. 

Cody, adjusting his stance on the pile of loose dirt he had climbed for survey, fought the urge to punt his helmet into the mess of white-barked trunks and yellow leaves surrounding the shipwreck. A cool breeze. The smell of rain in his nose and too many things in his head. He heaved an explosive breath as soldiers bustled all around, yelling, doing their best. 

And there: smoke, rising high over the trees that were left standing. Dark blue against the desaturated sky and sunlight. Out of view, swallowed by the forest, the remnants of the Separatist dreadnought were still burning.

By all means, Cody should be shot for this. 

It had all happened so fast.

“Reporting, sir.” The sun glinted on the Vigilance’s gray expanse. At the bottom of the pile, Boil looked distinctly disgruntled. 

“Go on.” 

“We haven't been able to establish communications with Command, still. No signal out here.” The lieutenant kicked at a disembodied droid part. “Comm range is limited to a few klicks, and we'll need to get the bridge fixed up to call reinforcements.” 

Way up in the air, sitting at an unhealthy tilt, the bridge gave another creak. 

“And the prisoner?”

Boil perked up. “Secured. He's in for one nasty awakening, that's for sure.”

Grim satisfaction poured into Cody’s veins. Bad, yes—what remained of the Vigilance's crew had been rendered lame and mute—but they had him. The jackpot. It itched under his fingernails. 

“Set up camp. Get as many men to work on the comms as we can spare.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Oh, and Boil?” Cody turned to catch his retreating brother's gaze. “Put a hundred cuffs on him if you have to. He's not getting away.” 

By all means, they needed to keep him.

This one is SO fun!!

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 6) Chapter One

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Chapter One: I’d say I feel like Death, but that would be Noa

Summary: God has arrived, and now (Y/N) must face the aftermath of what they did.

            Oh, God.

            Literally.

            (Y/N) stared in shock as God, literal, unearthly, ruler-of-the-universe, Creator of all, stood before them in a cashmere cardigan. The Four Horsemen gaped, and Em, delirious with blood loss as they were, could tell this was real and not some hallucination. Honestly, none of the teens were quite sure what the appropriate reaction to seeing God was.

            Michael flinched, clearly not having expected this intervention. It seemed the Apocalypse had gotten the attention of the entire universe. On Amenadiel’s part, he, too, was surprised, and could only stare at his Father.

            Lucifer’s reaction was far more negative. He was shocked, but his first priority was (Y/N), so he pushed them further behind them. If God was here due to the Apocalypse, then there was no telling what might happen to the Antichrist.

            God looked out over the group, and His sons retracted their wings over his disapproving expression. (Y/N)’s followed suit a moment later, not wanting to draw attention to themself.

            “Father.” Amenadiel broke the silence with the only word he could muster. He hesitated, unsure how to continue. “You’re here.” There, the plain old facts.

            “Well, my attention was caught,” said God.

            (Y/N) swallowed. They had gotten his attention by nearly destroying reality. That can’t be good for me. Their instincts demanded to summon their powers, but (Y/N) was too exhausted, body aching from literally unraveling and reforming, so they just stood beside Lucifer nervously.

            “Oh, Father, thank you for coming,” said Michael, suddenly deferential as he stepped forward. “You—You saw it? The Apocalypse? They were threatening the world, your creation!” He pointed at his face, at the ugly scar marring it. “And look what happened to me!”

            “Do not blame everyone on my child,” snapped Lucifer. “Always the way of our family, isn’t it, blaming everything on a single person instead of admitting any faults themselves!”

            “Father, although the Apocalypse did start, it wasn’t intentional. (Y/N) did not want to harm anyone. Do not blame them,” said Amenadiel, ever the elder brother trying to mediate family struggles. “I should’ve kept a better on my siblings, too. That would have stopped this.”

            “I don’t care who’s at fault,” said God. “I simply want to put things right. For the world. For you. For our family.”

            “Good point, Father,” said Michael, kissing ass as always. He turned and dared to smile at the others in the room. “We should all make amends.”

            “Make amends?” snapped Lucifer. “You tried to make my child destroy themself! I’m not just forgiving you for that. You’ve attacked them, their friends, brought their abusive biological family out of jail, gotten their partner shot, and now you think that’s all just fine?! You even impersonated me to hurt them.” He glared at Michael. “You’ll have to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss Father’s ass to even avoid me ripping you apart.”

            “Well…everyone is alive,” said Michael.

            “You—”

            “Sir.”

            (Y/N)’s quiet, tired voice cut through the ensuing argument.

            All eyes went to them, and (Y/N) lifted their tired, fearful gaze to meet God’s eyes. “Please help them.” They were supporting Em, barely conscious and bleeding still. “Please. It’s not her fault what happened. Please. Don’t let her die because of what I did.”

            Their first words to God were not pleading for their own safety, were not defensive of what had happened, were not serving themself in any way. (Y/N)’s first words were to ask for mercy for the people they cared about.

            God raised a hand, and (Y/N) flinched, preparing to be smitten or something similar. Lucifer’s heart thumped in fear, and he pulled (Y/N) to him. God’s gaze furrowed at the actions, and when he waved his hand, all that happened was that Em gasped. The wound in their side sealed, and the blood and tear disappeared from their dress like it had never been there.

            (Y/N)’s eye widened, and the Four Horsemen hugged Em tightly in relief. (Y/N) was too exhausted and just stared in relief as they leaned against Lucifer.

            God’s eyes seemed to glint with satisfaction as people relaxed, and he waved his hand again. Around them, the walls of the building were rebuilt. (M/N) and (F/N) disappeared, obviously returning to jail. The world righted itself after being turned upside down.

            All that was left of the Apocalypse was the mental scars and physical marks. Neither of those would leave. But they would heal.

            (Y/N) swallowed in relief and looked back at God. Good. He healed Em. And the world is alright. Now… Now (Y/N) would have to face the consequences of their actions.

            “Thank you,” they said quietly. “And for what it’s worth…I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Really.”

            Lucifer held them tightly. “Don’t apologize. It is not your fault.” He looked up and glared at God. “And no one’s going to touch you. Not when I’m here.”

            (Y/N) looked up at Lucifer. He truly cared about them and wanted to protect them. I love my dad.

            Michael sneered. “They’re the Antichrist. They nearly destroyed the world. Of course it’s their fa—”

            God held up a hand. Michael froze. God walked towards the group of teenagers and Lucifer. Amenadiel hesitated. He didn’t want to go against his Father, but if He were to threaten a group of children for being drawn into an event bigger than them, Amenadiel…he wouldn’t like it. He was a father. He didn’t want to see children hurt.

            Lucifer held onto (Y/N) and glared at God defiantly. His power was nothing to God’s, but he would fight tooth and nail to protect his kid. None of this was their fault.

            Em leaned on Leon and Noa and stared worriedly. They were frozen and watching God. They wanted to step forward, but without knowing God’s intentions, they were terrified and still in awe of His presence. How were they supposed to do with looking God in the face?

            (Y/N) themself looked at God and swallowed. This was it. They had survived the Apocalypse and been saved by their dad, but they were still…the Antichrist. The Abomination.

            God stopped before them. Everyone was silent.

            He smiled. “Be not afraid, child. No harm will come to you.”

            Everyone either relaxed or stared in shock. (Y/N) looked at God, searching his gaze to understand.

            “But I—I almost destroyed everything,” said (Y/N).

            “You had a natural reaction to a distressing situation,” said God, his gentle smile remaining on his face. “And the world is still here. Why would anyone be upset at that?”

            (Y/N) could have sobbed in relief, and Lucifer’s protective grip softened into one of joy at having them with him still, alive and safe in his arms.

            “What? But Father—They—The Apocalypse—” Michael wasn’t sure what to say, but he was fuming. He had sucked up to God, been his right hand for so long, and yet God had instantly warmed to the Antichrist instead of punishing them—and Lucifer.

            “Enough,” said God. “That is not the issue here.”

            “It…isn’t?” said Amenadiel.

            “No,” said God. “The issue is our family.” He sighed and shook his head. “Always fighting.”

            “Yes, well, perhaps if you intervened earlier when one of your sons was terrorizing my child, then we wouldn’t have this issue now,” snapped Lucifer. His hands tightened around (Y/N). “Come on, (Y/N). We’re leaving.”

            Everyone looked at him.

            “So soon?” said God, a bit disappointed.

            “If Michael is going to hang around and harass them without apology or pleading for his life, then yes,” said Lucifer. “(Y/N) is my priority.” He cast a scathing look at God and Michael. “They’re the best family in this room.” He extended his wings, flapped them, and disappeared with (Y/N) in his arms.

            Em, Leon, Marcel, Noa, and Olive exchanged a look. Their friend was gone, and now they were stuck in a room with an unfamiliar angel (Amenadiel), an asshole (Michael), and the most powerful being in existence (God). They did not want to be there any longer.

            Noa cleared their throat bravely, and the others held them tightly in support. “I, uh, Sir, may we…leave?”

            God looked at the five teenagers. “The Four Horsemen and my grandchild’s partner. May I ask your names before you go?”

            “Noa.” Once again, they led the way in speaking.

            “Olive.” She spoke up next, grasping Noa’s hand tightly. If Noa wasn’t being scolded by God, perhaps it wasn’t so bad to speak to Him. Still intimidating, though.

            “Marcel.”

            “Leon.”

            “Emeranne.”

            God smiled at them kindly, a far cry from what some religions said of Him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Have a restful night after all that you’ve been through.”

            The teenagers exchanged looks before nodding nervously and scrambling from the room. None of them wanted to be in the midst of that tension anyone.

            Besides, now that the world was safe, their main concern was checking on (Y/N). They were alive, but they had seemed so frail.

l

            (Y/N) sighed in relief as they arrived back in the penthouse with Lucifer. Instantly, they collapsed in exhaustion. Lucifer scooped them up and carried them to their room. It didn’t matter how old they were or how much they grew, he had the strength to do it. Lucifer lay (Y/N) down in their bed, and he gazed at them in pure love and relief.

            “How are you feeling?” he said.

            “I’d say I feel like death,” groaned (Y/N). “But that would be Noa.”

            Lucifer smiled. If they had their sarcasm back, then that meant they were recovering. “Do you want anything to eat, drink? Do you want pajamas?” (Y/N) was still in their prom suit.

            “I just want to pass out…” said (Y/N), rolling over.

            “I’ll check on you in the morning, then,” said Lucifer. He put a hand on their head and ruffled their hair affectionately. His gaze dropped to the black marks trailing up their neck and arms, the scars of the apocalypse. His heart ached. “I love you, (Y/N). I hope you know that.”

            “I do, Dad.” (Y/N) looked at Lucifer. “I just…forgot. I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t apologize,” said Lucifer. “None of this was your fault.” He squeezed their hand. “You’re alive, and that’s all that matters.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and their eyes closed. Comforted by his words, they drifted off to sleep.

            Lucifer gazed at his child. His hand went to their pulse, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief at knowing they were alive.

            He wasn’t sure what to make of his Father coming to Earth, but he had been so fearful of (Y/N) being punished. Lucifer had gone to Hell; he didn’t want (Y/N) to face any part of God’s wrath. Not when they hadn’t done anything wrong.

            But they were fine. God had said it wasn’t their fault. So, whatever His reason for sticking around, Lucifer didn’t give a damn right now. He only cared about his child being alive. He cast (Y/N) a final loving look before rising and walking out of the room.

            Ding!

            The penthouse elevator opened, and five teenagers piled out.

            “Is (Y/N) alright?”

            “Where are they?”

            “Why is God here?”

            “Did something happen to (Y/N)?”

            “Should I call an ambulance?”

            Lucifer smiled fondly at the care and worry in all of (Y/N)’s friends’ voices. “(Y/N) is alright. They’re sleeping.”

            The group relaxed. Em stepped forward, and Leon and Noa went with them in case she tired from the ordeal.

            “Can I stay with them tonight? So I know they’re alive?” said Em.

            “Of course,” said Lucifer. He looked at the entire group. “Anyone who wishes to can stay here. I can find pajamas, blankets, and pillows for you all.”

            Instantly, the group clamored in agreement and nodded furiously. None of them felt well enough to return to their homes and the parents that had no idea God and all the other shit was real. They wanted to stay with Lucifer and (Y/N) and the friends that had fought by their sides.

            Lucifer smiled. “I’ll find you supplies. I’m guessing you’ll all camp in (Y/N)’s room?” He could tell they were going to, so he just nodded. “Help yourself to food, water…even alcohol if you’ve careful. Tonight has been a lot, for all of you.”

            It truly had. The mess of the Apocalypse, Em’s near death, (Y/N)’s near death, and God’s arrival, had overshadowed the adrenaline rush and fear the group had experienced. Four of them had learned they were literally the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Frankly, they were too exhausted to work through that trauma.

            So, they collected the pillows and blankets from Lucifer and collapsed in (Y/N)’s room, dresses and suits still on, belts, shoes, and jewelry thrown to the side. Marcel curled up against Leon, holding their waste tightly, and Leon held his hand. Olive curled up on her side, and Noa legs entwined with hers. Em collapsed onto (Y/N)’s bed and took their hand. In their sleep, (Y/N) shifted nearer.

            In an instant of comfort and tiredness, the entire group fell asleep in a heap.

            Lucifer peeked into the room to ensure everyone was alright and smiled fondly. For all the terror and danger they’d faced, (Y/N) had a good group of friends. They had fought for (Y/N) until Lucifer arrived. He was incredibly grateful for them.

            Almost as grateful as Lucifer was to have (Y/N) as his child.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08