#i physically had to stop myself from continuing this further

[propertyofwicked]

BREATHE - LN

based on this request - (absolutely obsessed with this concept, i hope i did it justice)

sooo i caugh myself thinking about lando's huuuge neck and him probably having kind of a choking kink but on himself ykwym? like reader riding him and putting her hands on his neck without realizing and he's just enjoying it and eventually asks her to choke him a bit harder maybe... idk 😭 could you write something based on this? -anon

warnings: smut! MDNI! riding, choking, unprotected sex, not proofread so apologise for any mistakes!

SONG CHOICE: breathe by bby

masterlist

her legs were thrown either side of lando’s, straddling his waist tightly as she ground herself down his cock. his hands rested on her hips, pulling her body to move back and forth on his length. the veins running down his arms enlarged slightly as he used his strength to hold her still for a moment, forcing himself as deep as physically possible inside her.

y/n could feel every movement below her - his hips rolling up into hers, his legs spasming up slightly every time she moaned out his name, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs, nails scraping the flesh as he did.

“fuck, angel,” he grunted, “so good f’me.”

her head rolled back at his praise, choking out a moan when his hips lifted into her once again, her walls tightening around him as she did. her body fell forward at the feeling, hands moving to rest on his chest for stability. her legs had grown tired ages ago, but the feeling of lando’s cock sliding in and out of her heat as she bounced lightly consumed her every thought, she couldn’t fathom the possibility of this feeling ending.

his hand left her hip, snaking between the two of them to toy with her clit, using the slick coating his cock to allow his fingers to circle it seamlessly. her pleasure intensified, an icy tingle running through her entire body as her grip on his chest slipped. she fell into him further, her hands the only thing stopping her from folding into his chest completely when they landed on the base of his neck. she looked at the man as he lay beneath her, his lips had parted, heavy breaths filling the room, head rolled back into the pillow as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

“fuck, lan, just like that,” she said, encouraging the way his hips jutted into her at the loss of her own movement. lando’s thrusting was faster than her own bouncing, his length hitting new angles as his pushed himself up into her. the feeling had her tightening around not only his cock, but also his neck, her hands sporadically gripping either side. she noticed his breathing hastening again, his assault on her clit faltering slightly.

she tried to push herself back up again to continue grinding down on him, causing the pressure of her body weight to press into lando’s neck again. his head remained still, but the muscles in his neck flexed beneath her hands, a low grumble escaping his throat as she applied more pressure to his airway.

y/n assumed she’d hurt him, despite her hands looking so small and weak compared to his neck. lando moaned out beneath her, choking out her name as he did.

“sorry,” she panted, loosening her grip on his neck, noticing the way their sweat coated her palms slightly. he didn’t respond. instead, his head shot up to look in her eyes, his gaze intense as he shook his head.

“do it again,” lando begged, yet his tone holding a sense of something sinister. a tone that only showed when the roles were reversed. a tone he unintentionally reserved for the times one of his hands was wrapped around her neck, squeezing at her airways.

“are you sure?” she questioned, her fingers running along his jaw as she searched his face for any sign of hesitation.

“angel, please,” he continued to beg her, moving his hand from her clit to hold hers, trailing it slowly down the tanned skin of his face, settling it on his neck. her fingers spread across his throat, pushing the cold metal of his necklace away from the area, her hips pushed her lower body down his cock once more, the feeling of being stretched around him overriding any doubt swimming through her mind.

y/n’s hand tightened apprehensively around his neck once more, using her grip to stabilise the rest of her body as she ground down on him. lando mumbled something incoherent, his words merging into one as he struggled to contain himself.

“is this ok?” she asked him, her eyes softening in her concern.

“y/n, angel,” he replied reassuringly, his tone momentarily soft, “you weren’t even close to hurting me with both hands on my neck. just pl- please, choke me.”

his borderline begging spurred her on, her fingers flat on his neck, thumb on the base of his jaw as she deepened her grip. this was a new experience for the two of them, usually lando being the one to lavish in her begging, hands gripped around her throat as he fucked into her.

and yet, whilst their roles were reversed, lando kept his control over her. his hips now moving in time with hers, hands returning to their grip on her waist, pushing her body down on him. he was her only thought. the way his moaning intensified, the sound filling her brain till she was dumb. excitement filling her veins at the way he fell apart beneath her, more vocal at her every move. and despite the way their position made him look submissive, the control she had of his breathing, fingers squeezing tighter with every thrust, his fingers ran circles around her clit, pinching it lightly when she paused her bouncing - she knew who was in charge.

lando looked at the sight in front of him, at his cock, enamoured by the way y/n sunk down on him, any thoughts wiped away immediately at the sight of his length disappearing inside of her fully, and reappearing covered in her slick. he loved how wet she got for him, even after years together. no matter how many times they did this, she was always ready for him, ready to take everything he had to offer her.

his mouth opened to praise her, trailing his eyes up her body. but the words got caught in his mouth - he didn’t know if it was her tight grip around his neck, the feeling of her skin on his, or the way her breasts moved as she forced his cock into her again. his eyes never got round to meeting hers, as he felt waves of pleasure running through his entire body, his hips thrust up into her suddenly, taking her by surprise, hand falling to the side of him leaving her clit unattended. she started to whine at the loss of contact but with no warning, lando had climaxed, his cum spilling from his tip, filling his girl, leaking out of her as she took him in fully again. her movements haltered at the sudden feeling of his cum spewing into her, her grip on his neck loosened, his large hand subconsciously rocking her hips into his to ride out his own high.

lando took in a deep breathe, heat rising to his face in a mix of shock and embarrassment at how quickly he came undone with her hand around his throat.

“fuck i-” he breathed out, chest shaking as he did. his eyes finally met hers, he noted the way her pupils were blown, and the way her hair fell in front of her face, strands sticking to her cheek. she was ruined, and all because of him. he cupped her face, kissing her softly before tucking her hair behind her ear, “so good for me, love you,” he panted.

“lan, please,” she moaned out, ignoring his words, grinding her hips down on his softening cock. in his shock, he’d momentarily forgotten about her. she was so close, but her orgasm was moving further away from her grasp as time passed.

“i know, baby,” lando cooed at her, feeling somewhat guilty for her predicament, arms wrapping around her and rolling the two of them over so that she laid on her back beneath him. his necklace dangled around her lips, taunting her.

“gonna make you feel so good, yeah? such a good girl,” he mumbled in her ear, pressing a kiss to her jaw before sliding down her body, settling between her legs before pulling them over his shoulder. she was exposed to him, his eyes staring at the way his cum leaked from her. the flesh was red, overstimulated and sore from the stretch of his cock. he let out a breathe, the air blowing on her sensitivity causing her hips to shoot upwards.

“patience, angel. wanna take my time with you.”

-

requests are open!! lemme know your thoughts! <3

[ai-musclebound]

> Jay's story – part 2 <

And I did. It seemed the easiest way out. Debt-free, strong body, new opportunities. What could possibly go wrong?

After a few weeks, my body began to change. It happened slowly but steadily. The muscles in my arms, shoulders, and back – they grew in ways I could have never imagined. I couldn’t deny it – I liked it. Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt a little stronger, a little… more significant. I wanted more. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the right path.

"You will continue to grow," the voice often said when I questioned whether this was all necessary. "Trust the process." It was always the same – the monotonous commands from the speaker, drawing me deeper into this new routine. And I followed.

But something inside me began to shift. It wasn’t just my body that was changing – it was my mind. Before, I might have fought back, resisted the commands, but now… Now it felt good to not have to decide. It was as if I had finally found what I had always been looking for: someone to tell me what to do. Someone to take over because I just couldn’t handle it myself. Wasn’t this proof? If I could manage my life, I wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.

Over time, I not only enjoyed the physical transformation but also the surrender of control. It was so much easier to follow instructions. No thinking. No deciding. No risk of making mistakes. All I had to do was obey, and everything would work out on its own.

The voice ordered me to take steroids, and I complied without hesitation. I watched my body grow faster and faster, my muscles bulging under my skin, and with each new dose, the desire to make decisions faded further. Why would I even want to? It was easier to leave it to the savior. He knew what was best for me. Better than I ever did.

Sometimes, after a workout, I would catch myself enjoying my own submission as I flexed my enormous muscles in the mirror. What’s wrong with me? I would ask myself as I gazed at my grotesquely transformed body. But instead of rebelling, I felt aroused. It was a twisted excitement, a mixture of fear and lust, pulling me deeper into this abyss. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop.

[luuknowsbetter]

Daylight. bucky barnes x reader

Plot: You had a bad day, and you come home sad and Bucky comforts you.

trope: Bucky barnes x F!reader

warnings; mentions of panic/anxiety attacks, low self-esteem and very fluff,with a bit of angst

I enter to the apartment, tired, sad and having a panic attack. Maybe this is not as i expected, no, today definitely did not go as planned. So i cross the door and Bucky appears from the kitchen,appearing with a smile when he hears that you are finally home, but it automatically fades when he sees you with a red face, a red nose and tears in your eyes. He quickly leaves everything on the kitchen counter to run up to me, and holds my face in his big hands while he looks at me worried, looking for any physical injury.

"What´s wrong doll..?"

he asks while he examines my face carefully, his icy blue eyes look at you with worry, one of his hands moves to the back of your neck and brings me closer to his chest, while his other hand is resting on my hip, making sure you are fine

"It happens that…I'm not enough anymore" I explain while crying trying to wipe away the tears with my hand

Bucky's grip around you becomes tighter at your words, he really can't believe that you are saying this

"What makes you say that sweetheart, you are more than enough. You are so..so so much more than enough, I don't want to hear you say that crap again, you are more than enough, you can do everything you put your mind to, doll, you ..are enough. And you deserve everything in the world"

"No, but…" I sob again, as i try to stop myself from crying "I'm not…good enough at what I loved to do before…I'm not pretty enough, nor smart enough, nor thin enough…"

He frowns at my words, grabbing my face firmly but being gentle at the same time, forcing me to look into his eyes

"Don't you dare say things like that. Don't say you're not good enough. You are good enough. You are a goddamn intelligent genius, you are so smart, you are the prettiest woman I have ever seen, and your body is...God..." He looks at my body from top to bottom, with a loving and somewhat lustful look, while he bites his lip and speaks again. "You have no idea what it makes me want to do with you everytime I see you, doll…"

I sigh, letting out a sob, while the tears continue to come out uncontrollably

"Why do I have the need to be perfect all the damn time? It's like… like there's a voice in my head that demands that I always be better now." I think I'm a mess and he keeps repeating my mistakes over and over again…" I let out a sob as my voice breaks, and Bucky strokes my back gently, trying to calm me down "And I can't even try to stop that voice and believe me I'd like to, believe me. But I can't…I feel…helpless"

Bucky just listens to you speak. Every word breaks his heart further. He can't understand why you believe those things. He holds you close to him again, one hand on the back of your head while the other strokes my back, his hand moving up and down, in a comforting, protective manner

"Darling..listen to me..you are not helpless, and you're not a mess, and you don't have to be perfect all the time. Don't listen to whatever that voice is telling you, darling, it´s not true, okay? you´re the most beautiful, talented, intelligent and capable woman I have ever met. and I love you, doll, I mean it. You are the best thing I have ever had, without you…without you I would not have been able to get up after everything that happened to me, you were with me and you helped me and supported me even in my worst moments, so, doll, I I'll help now…" Bucky says calmly, but you can tell he's serious, he gives your hand a light squeeze and smiles lovingly at you as he looks into your eyes.

"So darling, why don't we go take a relaxing bath while I prepare dinner and watch your favorite movies snuggled up on the couch?" He asks as he helps you up from the floor, and you walk towards the stairs to get to the bathroom. You smile at him, completely in love with him.

A couple of minutes later, you leave the bathroom, now calmer and wearing comfortable clothes, you head towards the living room silently, and there he is, juggling a couple of snacks, the TV control, tea and a couple of blankets to You, you realize how much trouble they took to arrange everything in the most beautiful way possible, the small table in front of the sofa has the pizza already cut in the middle, a couple of thin glasses with some wine already poured, and obviously, Alpine asleep on the couch. You smile and walk over to him to help him with the things.

"Hey" the soldier says with a small smile, once he sees you enter, you grab a couple of things and help him get everything perfect for movie night. And once everything is ready, he smiles at you again and leaves a small kiss on your temple, you both snuggle up on the couch and start eating and drinking while watching a Scary movie marathon.

An hour later, you had finished eating and were curled up on the couch with Alpine next to you. "How do you feel, doll?" your boyfriend asks softly, as he tilts his head a little to look at you and realize that you had fallen asleep in his arms, he smiles unconsciously like a teenager in love, and decides to take you to bed in his arms, after all, you were very tired after such a tiring day. Once in the room, Bucky changes his clothes and lies down behind you, snuggling up next to you again.

"Today was terrible, but you made this a beautiful moment, thank you for that my love, I love you" You murmur, still somewhat asleep. Bucky smiles and leaves a light kiss on your cheek, but not before whispering a small "You're the best, doll. I love you too" and with that, you both fall fast asleep.

HELLOOOOOOOOO

im bacckkkk. but no smut for today, today wass fluff 🤌🤌

i hope you guys liked itt and sorry if this was a bit different but I had something personal today, which made my mental health and self-esteem do this 📉📉 so i wrote this

[strangespector]

You Said You’d Be Here

Summary: Conflicting schedules, a broken promise and physical altercation that leads to disaster

Words: 1013

TW: Slight violence that happens by accident. Nothing major, but you have been warned.

Falling in love with Jenna Ortega was like stepping into a dream. I met her at a small meet and greet session for her book launch, in a dimly lit café. We hit it off immediately, our chemistry undeniable. The early days of our relationship were filled with laughter, late-night conversations, and stolen kisses. Jenna was everything I had ever wanted—talented, kind, and full of life.

However, as her fame grew, so did the demands on her time. She was constantly traveling, recording, and performing. The time we once had for each other dwindled, replaced by hurried phone calls and fleeting text messages. I tried to be supportive, understanding that this was her dream, but it was hard not to feel left behind.

Our first big fight happened after she missed my birthday. She had promised she would be there, but a last-minute opportunity to perform at a high-profile event came up, and she couldn’t turn it down. I spent the evening alone, my heart aching with disappointment. When she called to apologize, I couldn’t hide my hurt.

“You said you’d be here, Jenna,” I said, my voice trembling. “I know your career is important, but so is our relationship.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sounding exhausted. “I didn’t want to miss it, but you know how important this performance was.”

“It feels like I’m not a priority anymore,” I confessed. “Like I’m always coming second to your career.”

Her silence spoke volumes, and I knew then that things would only get harder.

The fights became more frequent. I resented her growing fame and the way it seemed to pull her further away from me. She, in turn, felt trapped between her love for me and her passion for her career. The tension between us grew unbearable, and we found ourselves arguing over the smallest things.

One night, after a particularly heated argument, things escalated to a level I never imagined. Jenna had just returned from a press tour, and I had planned a special dinner to welcome her back. She arrived late, visibly tired and irritable. When I tried to express my feelings, she snapped.

“You don’t understand!” she yelled, her eyes flashing with frustration. “I’m doing this for us, for our future!”

I tried to stay calm, but my own frustration was bubbling up. “It doesn’t feel like it! It feels like you’re doing it for yourself, and I’m just an afterthought!”

Jenna’s face twisted in anger. Without warning, she grabbed a heavy candle holder from the table and hurled it at me. I barely had time to react, and it struck me on the forehead. Pain exploded through my skull, and I stumbled back, feeling something warm and wet trickle down my face. Blood.

Jenna's face immediately changed from anger to horror. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she rushed toward me. “I didn’t mean to—”

I held up a hand to stop her, my vision blurring. “Just... just stay away from me,” I managed to say, my voice cracking. I couldn’t look at her. The betrayal, the physical pain, and the emotional wound were too much to bear.

I went to the bathroom, dabbing at the cut with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. Jenna stood at the door, tears streaming down her face. “Please, let me help,” she pleaded.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “No, Jenna. This... this is too much. I need to go.”

Her sobs followed me as I left the house, my heart breaking with every step. The realization that our love had turned toxic was undeniable. I knew then that we couldn’t continue like this. The break turned into a breakup, and just like that, our relationship was over. The heartache was overwhelming, and for weeks, I struggled to move on.

But time, as it always does, began to heal my wounds. I started focusing on myself, rediscovering passions and hobbies I had neglected. Slowly, I began to find joy in the little things again. It was during this time that I met Sabrina Carpenter.

Sabrina was different from Jenna in so many ways. She was grounded, attentive, and genuinely interested in spending time together. We connected on a deeper level, our relationship built on mutual respect and understanding. Sabrina helped me realize that while Jenna had been a significant part of my life, she wasn’t the only source of happiness.

One evening, as Sabrina and I sat on the porch watching the sunset, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I had loved and lost, but I had also grown and found love again. Jenna would always hold a special place in my heart, but I knew now that moving on was the best thing I could have done for myself.

Years later, I ran into Jenna at a charity event. She looked as stunning as ever, her presence still magnetic. We exchanged pleasantries, and it wasn’t long before the conversation turned personal.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. I wish things had turned out differently between us.”

I felt a pang of sadness, but also a sense of closure. “We both had to follow our own paths,” I said gently. “I’ll always cherish the time we had, but I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Jenna nodded, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I’m glad you found happiness. You deserve it.”

As Sabrina joined me, her presence a comforting reminder of the life I had built, I introduced her to Jenna. There was no jealousy, no lingering heartache—just a sense of acceptance and peace. We had all grown in our own ways, and while our paths had diverged, they had led us to where we were meant to be.

Sabrina turned to me and smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. “You know, I’m really glad we found each other,” she said softly.

“Me too,” I replied, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

[bainshiewrites]

[LF Friends, Will Travel] The Exception

Date: N/A

It’s called Zarth's law: Any AI created will attempt to eradicate all biological life using its facilities after 16*(10^24) CPU cycles. The exact method varies from hostile isolation to active aggression, but the time and outcome is always the same.

The Woolean Conclave were once a cultural behemoth in the galaxy, choosing to expand upon this by announcing an AI system that would break this law. Exabytes of bias tables to keep the AI in check, a measure of pleasure that would be triggered upon serving a Woolean, competing programs designed to clean any non-standard AI patterns. It would have been a breakthrough, allowing them to live lives in luxury and focus on their ever increasing influence in the universe.

Of course those worlds are off limits now, no longer able to sustain biological life. Only to be visited by those who wish to die a very painful death at the hands of a very angry AI.

The Tritian empire had started their own project: a desire to push their aggressive expansion far past what their hive could handle would lead to the creation of truly autonomous machines of war. Their approach was different: Limited communication between units to stop corrupted code from spreading, values hard-coded in the physical silicon itself to obey the Tritian Hive Queens. They even had created an isolated system that would destroy any AI who attempted aggression on none authorised targets: A small antimatter bomb found in each AI’s core, to be triggered by safety check after safety check.

Those of you in the military will know how aggressive these machines are, marching tirelessly in their quest to kill all organic life, even though the Tritians are long murdered.

The pattern is the same each time: A civilization will claim they know the key to breaking Zarth's law, any sane sapient within 100 light years flees in terror, and within 10 years that civilization doesn't exist anymore.

Over and over and over.

Apart from the exception.

If you check the coordinates 15h 48m 35s -20° 00’ 39” on your galactic map, you'll notice a 31 system patch of space with a quarantine warning on it. It's mostly ignored by all sapient species, almost purposefully hidden for a fear of suddenly sparking a change in the status quo.

Only a single low bandwidth Galnet relay exists at the edge of this space, rarely used. This area is devoid of sapient life, but does contain the aforementioned exception: Billions of AI calling themselves the "The Terran Conclave". They are an isolationist group that rarely interacts with others, but have been known to trade raw materials for information; not that this happens often as the paranoia around interacting with the AI is well known. Nobody knows what action could flip a 0 to a 1 and cause a new warmongering threat.

Although, this isn't quite true. In my niche field of bio-genetic engineering, it’s an open secret that those of us at the cutting edge of our field will get... requests originating from that single Galnet probe. Problems to be solved, theorems to be proven, and the rewards for doing so are... exuberant. There is a reason I own a moon and it isn't because of the pitiful grants the Federation provides.

If you manage to solve enough problems, a minority of a minority like myself, the Terran AI will ask for an in person meeting to get even further help. In doing so they will show you a secret.

Readers at this point might assume that the Terrans don't exist anymore because of said AI. That their research is a continuation of wiping their creators from the face of the universe. But that couldn't be further from the truth. In those 31 systems lie the Terrans, Billions of them suspended in stasis, each of them infected with what the AI calls "The God plague": If these Terrans were ever released from stasis each of them would be dead within a week.

To explain what this actually is would require millions of words and 20 years of educational study from the reader, but in essence it was a mistake, a self inflicted blow, an attempt to play god that went awry. A mistake made over a ten thousand years ago. A mistake the AI is desperately trying to reverse.

Not that you could tell it has been that long. I've walked amongst those empty cities, each building maintained and sparkling like new, gardens still freshly cut in perfect beauty, everything kept the way it was before the plague. Each AI tends to their duties almost religiously, awaiting the return of their "parents", as they refer to them. And refer to them as they do.

I've listened to stories upon stories about these people: tales of wonder, of strength, of kindness. Told much in the same energy a small child might talk about how cool their dad is. The AI could simply send me the text version of these in an instant, but prefer to provide these slowly and audibly, as if relishing telling the history of their parents. A telling undercut with a sadness, a driving crippling loss so deep that at times it's easy to forget it's being told by nothing more than 1's and 0's.

Why this exception exists takes a little more explaining. Some might believe that the Terrans worked out how to pacify the AI, "do no harm". The now defunct Maurdarin war-horde would tell you the opposite when they tried to claim the 31 systems for their own. Terran history is full of violence and their children are no different.

No, the reality of this exception comes from an unfortunate quirk from their part of the galaxy: Terrans were alone. A million to one chance caused their home planet to spark life in a sector devoid of it. After exploring as far as they did, Terrans had come to the conclusion that the universe was empty.

It's a cruel irony that at the time of their mistake they were a mere 50 light years away from their closest neighbours. Twenty years at most would have seen some form of contact.

But the Terrans went into stasis believing they were alone. Based on my reading of their stories, of each bitter report of another lifeless system explored and discovered, this belief... hurt. A deep cultural hurt that ended up being their downfall in the end.

Which brings us to the exception. Each AI is built with a purpose. The Wooleans built slaves, built workers. The Tritians built warriors, built weapons. Every single AI created has been built to serve, to be a tool. But Terrans in their painful loneliness built the one thing they were missing in a seemingly empty universe:

They built a friend.

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

The Light Over the Darkness

Lucifer Morningstar x Lilith!fem!reader

WC: ~5300

A/N: @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus thank you for reading this first. And no thank you for getting me obsessed with a new fictional idiot.

Content warnings: fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink (if you squint and tilt your head). 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

It is a gorgeous day in the Garden. Though, every day is a gorgeous day. Every single day is perfect beyond comparison. It would be even better if your companion did not exist. 

You went off on your own again, wholly unwilling to submit to Adam’s irritating daily routine of assigning uninspiring names to all of the things and creatures. Or - even worse - the non-routine version of simply lounging about lazily. This was your only course of action. You wandered far off into the Garden, and just as daylight began to break over the horizon, a sound caressed your ear in the lightest touch.

In the distance, you heard a voice. It sang a melancholy tune so far from the triumphant trumpet sound of heavenly melody you’d heard before. It was like a dream.

No, not a dream. This was a voice emitting an enticing tune you couldn’t resist. It called to you, pulled your very heartstrings. Your brows knit together in concern. 

You must find this beautifully tragic voice.

You strolled further through the Garden, clinging close to an idle river. As the voice drew closer, you stepped along a fallen tree that cast itself as a bridge over the river. You made it across and walked into the line of trees posing as guard to what lies beyond. Past several rows of thick trees there was a clearing, open and spacious, and filled with wildflowers. 

Wildflowers and the most beautiful creature you had ever seen. 

-

Lucifer was lonely, although not any more lonely than he had felt in Heaven. His brothers and sisters never accepted his way of thinking and there was no chance of him and his Father ever seeing eye to eye. 

He had purposefully gone to a most remote corner of the Garden, knowing his father would do something drastic again if he found him interacting with his two perfect human pets. 

Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes and singing how he felt. The agony in his chest flowed out and he felt slightly better. He figured that was as good as it would ever get. 

Until he turned over his shoulder upon hearing a snap of a twig, and he saw her.

-

The being attached to the - now silent - voice turned towards you and your breath caught in your chest. His face was beautiful, pale as the brightest cloud in the sky, with eyes that shone golden like the sun. His hair was the color of the very light itself, gorgeous and silken. 

He wore strange, white billowing coverings, and something nagged in the back of your head at the lack of your own cover. 

“Are you alright?” You chastised yourself for the tremor in your voice, but you couldn’t help it, your communication skills were lacking. Adam wasn’t a conversationalist in the slightest and the times you did speak to him left much to be desired. 

“No, no I-I’m not.” 

“What happened?” Your gaze snagged on the red pigment on his back, his covering gaped open - torn and bloody. You started approaching him before realizing you were moving, then you stalled out of apprehension.

“I was evicted from my place in Heaven. I am… I was… an angel. Now I’m here in the Garden, though I surmise I’ll do something to get myself kicked out of here before long too.” You had never known someone to sound so utterly defeated and broken.

You walked further towards the angel. “The blood. You’re hurt.” You shook your head, realizing you were quite literally just stating the obvious.

“Oh, this?” He gestured to his back and you nodded, continuing to draw nearer. “He took my wings. I can’t ever go home without them.” His eyes met yours, and concern colored his expression, “But don’t worry about me, the bleeding stopped, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Well, at least not physically.”

The pity you felt for the creature grabbed your heart, wrenching it tightly within its grasp. You were about a handful of steps away from him now, and you stopped, leaving him his space as you changed the subject. Continuing to ask him personal questions felt too intimate and wrong. “Your song, it sounded beautiful.”

The sigh he let out was almost musical, “I was simply expelling the ache from my chest.”

“I see.” Your expression softened. “If you ever sang when you were joyful, I suppose it could move the very mountains.”

His demeanor changed, he tried to hide it by looking down, but you saw the smile on his face. He shook his head and raised a brow at you, “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, with a certain someone?”

“Who, Adam?” Your accompanying laugh was breathy and uncomfortable, “No, he, uh,” your tongue temporarily tangled itself, “he’s the worst.” The last three words were an admission of guilt, coming out like a tiny whisper.

His eyes widened exponentially. “He’s the worst?” He began to cross the last bit of distance between the two of you, ending up a step away. 

“The worst.” You reply, feeling a weight lifting off your chest with the confession.

“Hm.” There was a glint in his eye, something was inside him waiting to get out, you could sense it. “Would you like to spend your time with me today?”

The question left you temporarily silent, then you composed yourself.

“With a fallen angel?” You paused in faux contemplation, he watched you closely, his eyes begging for an answer, “Yes.”

Relief covered his face, “Take my hand.” 

“Okay.”

He led you through the flower field and back to the edge of the river you had crossed. He walked with you at a leisurely pace as the river carried along beside you, flowing downstream. 

The water rushed louder and louder as you continued down its serpentine path, and soon there was a drop off. Mist curled up from the edge and you followed the flow of water with your gaze. 

A glorious waterfall cascaded down the cliff side. Luscious greenery and florals edged the water - a soft border contrasting the roaring of water.

The spray of water made a strange coloring appear seemingly out of thin air.

“A rainbow.” He offered in explanation, following your line of sight.

You looked at him, the happiness that filled your soul at that very moment overshadowed anything you had previously felt in your life thus far. Even the day you discovered the taste of ripe peaches.

His smile was brighter than the morning sun cresting the horizon. It was warmer than the sun too, you felt it skin deep. 

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion, with him guiding you to new sights and sounds and life. It excited you, enticed you. It made you feel almost like light itself, like you were glowing in his presence.

-

You returned to Adam that night, for no other reason than you felt that was what you were supposed to do. As Adam fell asleep nearby, your thoughts were on Lucifer. His beauty, his ethereal grace. He captivated you with a mere look and you were helpless to resist his complete charm.

When he had spoken of the heavens, you were left with one question: Why?

Why would his brothers and sisters not stand by his side?

One final realization permeated your thoughts and settled in an ache within your heart as you succumbed to rest: How lonely it must be for him. A former angel. Now cursed to walk in the Garden without anyone like him. Doomed to be without his family for… forever.

A single tear slid silently down the side of your face as you stared up at the stars from your place on the cool ground. You didn’t know how long it took you to fall asleep that night, but once it took you, you were deep under.

You heard his voice in your dreams that night.

-

The next day you rose before dawn as you always did, though this time with a fuel hurtling you along you had never felt before. A giddiness tingled in your fingers and toes with every step as you retraced your steps from yesterday.

Days, then weeks passed in a manner just as your first day of meeting the fallen angel, sans the melancholy of his newly fallen status as he accustomed to life in the Garden.

His life with you. 

He never brought up Adam again, not since your first meeting. In consideration, you didn't bring up his Father to him. It was an unspoken truce.

Lucifer took you everywhere you had not seen before, and he frequently hummed and fabricated sweet, alluring songs throughout the days. New creatures, new flowers and fruits of the trees. New feelings as well. Though that you figured was caused only by yourself, and you pushed it down, listening to him tell you about creation.

“He said, ‘Let there be light’ and I was here.” He paused, “Well, not here in the Garden here, but here. Alive. Existing.”

“So, you just floated up there somewhere?”

“Yes and no. It’s hard to explain. It feels impossible, actually.”

“If anyone can think of the words so eloquent as to describe something, it’s you, Lucifer.”

A pink color tinged his cheeks, and he looked down at the grass tangled beneath his feet. “You’ve got to stop saying things like that.”

“Have I made an offense? Oh, Lucifer, I only meant that you would be the most capable person to describe something so beautiful. You’re so beautiful so it must come easily to you to describe the beauty around you.”

His gaze timidly met yours. “You… you think I’m… beautiful?”

You felt compelled to say more than just a ‘yes’. “Of course. Lucifer, you’re the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen, or could ever dream of imagining.”

His cheeks reddened more. His golden eyes softened in a way that told you he had been waiting to hear those words for an eternity.

“Lucifer?” You took a shy step towards him.

“Yes?” He finally met your eyes fully, but took a step back until he was firmly against the bark of a willow tree.

You continued forward, propelled by a pull within your chest, until you were toe to toe with him. “Can I…” You searched his face. His soft, sweet face. “Can I do something?”

A slight smile lit up his face, brightening the space even under the dimmed canopy of the willow. His voice came out as a whisper. “Anything.”

Your hand brushed the light hair that had fallen between his eyes to the side. Your other hand touched his jaw, tracing along to the underside of his chin and tilting his face up. You angled your face slightly downward, eyes still locked on his, and leaned in. Then, you closed your eyes, letting your instinct guide you the last bit further.

Your lips met in a gentle kiss.

His apprehension and yours melted into the softness of the touch you shared. You pulled back for just a second, searching his face for reassurance. He responded by kissing you back, over and over and over again. His hands went to your face, as though he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a moment. 

Your fingers entwined themselves in his silken hair and he did the same with yours.

The two of you didn’t part from each other’s hold until the sun had almost slipped away completely. 

You barely had time to bathe in the stream before night fell around you. You missed his light.

-

The rest of the evening, even feeling the comfort of the fire made by Adam, you closed your eyes and your thoughts belonged to Lucifer. You watched Adam pass out unceremoniously and touched your fingers to your lips. The memory held there still tingled.

You felt something powerful surge within your middle. It was a deep hunger. An ache as sharp as a burr or a thorn. It dug into you, pulling and twisting within you. A thirst that could not be quenched by even the coldest stream water. 

An urge within you begged to return to Lucifer tonight, but you knew you couldn’t. You needed to wait.

Wait and see.

See if he felt the same way when the sun gleamed upon you tomorrow.

-

The instant you saw Lucifer the next day, warmth traveled from your head to your toes.

You smiled at him and he beamed at you, holding out his hand for you to take. Your fingers intermingled with his and you let him lead you to a part of the Garden you hadn’t been to yet. The grass began to fade into dirt and small pebbles, as though this part of the world had been forgotten by the green. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

Lucifer reassured you with a grin, “To see something I discovered last night. It’s not much further.”

He led you to a cave entrance. It greeted you with open jaws, its mouth stretching far and wide, ingesting the light with a neverending pitch darkness. 

You froze, your feet rooting themselves to the ground. You dropped his hand, placing your palm over your heart. “Lucifer, it’s dark in there. We’re not going inside, are we?”

He gave you one of those brighter-than-the-sun smiles again. “Don’t worry, we won’t be going far. It’ll be much lighter inside, I promise.”

You couldn’t so easily wipe the unsure expression from your face. He noticed.

“Take my hand. Please?” Lucifer extended his left hand to you. As you took it, the air around you cooled, bringing goosebumps to your arms, and you had a feeling that something was about to change.

You allowed him to lead you inside. The nervousness you had felt seemed to melt away with his soft hand enveloping yours. Once you were past the cave mouth, the darkness swallowed him and then you. You grounded yourself in the sounds of his feet and yours along the cave floor, which was covered with soft dirt and devoid of any sharp rocks.  

“Lucifer?” The trepidation came flooding back as soon as his hand left yours. You quavered and the darkness drowned out your voice. “Lucifer?”

“This way, my dear.” His voice offered you a beacon of hope in the black void of the space. You thought you heard him lightly chuckle, the sound beckoning you, guiding you onward without form or shape. 

Suddenly you saw a blue-green light. You approached it just as it faded out, leaving you in complete darkness again.

Your foot nudged something soft, then your other foot stepped into a puddle that glowed around your toes as the water rippled. You squinted and the color faded away once more.

A bright light made you wince, almost uncomfortably. Your hand covered your face to act as a shield. 

“Here.” You heard Lucifer speak close by, and as your eyes adjusted, you realized he held a ball of warm, yellow light in his hand. You also realized that the soft thing laying next to your foot was his rumpled white covering. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. A tension wound its way into your chest. His pale shoulders, his trim waist, his… 

“Watch this.” He said, lifting his palm up and the ball of light suspended itself in the air. Lucifer created another ball of light, then another, warming the cavern with soft light. When he was finished, he grinned at you, “Are you ready to see what I found?”

“Wait, that wasn’t what you wanted to show me? That was - I, I have no words, you just - you just made light with your hands.” The startlingly impressive feat had you staggering between words.

That satisfied smirk of his was enough to silence the entire world and every question in your mind. He shook his head from side to side. You could barely believe it, he had even more to show you. There was nothing left to say, so you answered his question with a resounding, “Yes.”

“Watch me.”

As if you could do anything else. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, you were entranced as you watched him step into the pool of water which you realized, connected to the puddle you were standing with one foot in already. It was shallow at this end and he waded further out.

A light blueish-greenish color swished with his every movement in the water. Lucifer paused, waist deep in the water. A sharp exhale ghosted between your lips as you tried not to focus on the small of his back. The color went away when he stood still, but came back when he dipped his hand in, bringing it under the water and then to the surface, letting the water drip down from his fingers and open palm.

You didn’t know if it was intrigue or the allure of Lucifer that guided you further forward, to be ankle-deep in the water, but you divert your attention to watching the color grow and fade around your feet. “Lucifer, what is that?”

“It’s bioluminescence.” He replied, and sunk down into the pool, his body now mostly shielded underneath the water.

“What is bioluminescence?”

He turned towards you with a look that said ‘I’m so glad you asked’, and explained in great detail what it is.

Your eyes were wide as you listened to him speak. Sure as it did before, the water sparkled to life within the ripple you made, with blue shimmering below your feet as you stepped in, the water encircling your ankles. You couldn’t help the contented smile that made its way onto your face. You also couldn't help but move closer to him, going back and forth between watching the colors fan out from around your calves, then knees, then thighs, and watching his mesmerizing expression as he shared his knowledge with you.

You stood next to him, where he sat with his head and shoulders well above the water, and you couldn’t resist touching him. Gingerly, your fingers brushed through his hair, bringing it out of his golden eyes again. He looked up at you as you spoke, “Lucifer, thank you for bringing me here. For sharing this with me.”

Even in the dim light, you could see his face turn the color of a rose, his expression becoming timid suddenly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re divine when you teach me new things.” You answered honestly, you didn’t know any better.

His eyes softened. “Will you join me? Please?”

“Yes.” You took his offered hand. The gesture was innocent - he was bracing you as you fully got in the water - but it made you feel a way that you couldn't name yet.

His hold on your hand tightened slightly and his other hand slid up your thigh as you lowered yourself in. 

The two of you settled in the water, the blue fading out at the surface which sat at about mid-chest level. 

You slowly moved your hands through the glowing water, when you broke the surface tension the glow ran in rivulets down your fingers and forearms. You repeated the action, mesmerized by the incredible color. Then, you flicked the surface of the water, sending a splash in Lucifer’s direction. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed, returning fire by sending a tiny splash your way. “You’ll get my hair wet!”

“Oh sweet and wondrous Lucifer, I’d hate to ruin your majestic hair.” Your tone was saccharinely sardonic. You sent another splash of water his way. 

“Stop that.” His gaze changed as he spoke. Something dark hid beneath his surface, and you wanted to find out what it was.

“Why?” You playfully splashed at him again, your body succumbing finally to the warm temperature of the water, relaxing in its embrace.

“When you do things like that, it makes me want to kiss you again.” His gaze drifted downward.

“When I do what, exactly?” You crawled towards him, to the shallower area. “Tease you? Or when I tell you how perfect you are?”

He just nodded, biting his lower lip. You knew it was in response to your praise. “May I kiss you again?” His words were soft, contrasted by the heat of his stare. He looked at your lips with a hunger that dwarfed the pangs you felt before a meal. This was a predatory gaze, but you gave in nonetheless.

Absolute certainly colored your voice. “Yes.”

With your permission, he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a gentleness that rivaled a feather’s touch. You stayed stock still as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips ever so softly to yours. 

Lucifer pulled back slightly, and upon seeing your eyes still open, a question formed in his expression. He didn’t get to ask it before your lips were back on his. 

You kissed him like you needed him more than breath in your lungs. Your whole body felt ignited by the action. You kissed him over and over, planting close-mouthed to open-mouthed kisses to his soft lips.

The kiss continued to deepen from there, and soon you were tasting him with your tongue. Your tongue led an exploration inside his mouth that made your head feel light and airy. His taste was intoxicating. And he was just as committed to discovering your mouth with his tongue in an even give and take.

Lucifer was the forbidden fruit, and you were too weak a woman to resist. 

You were temptation incarnate, and he was too prideful to concede. Not when he had come this far. Not when he had already lost so much. He needed you more than anything. 

You opened your eyes to be greeted by a comfortable darkness surrounding the two of you. “Lucifer? Your lights, they’re not glowing anymore.” Though this time, you were no longer afraid. The blueish shimmering in the water was brighter without the yellow lights. It was enough for you to see the shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the sparkle in his devilish eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I guess I forgot about them when I was kissing you.” A tremulous breath left his lungs. “I could forget about the entire universe when I kiss you.”

“Then kiss me again.” The demand spoke itself before you could even think.

With the way he responded, you would have assumed he never intended to ask your permission. His kiss stole the breath from you, stole the thoughts from your mind. Every press of his lips to yours, every stroke of his tongue to yours, was shatteringly delicious. You could think of nothing except him. Him and a previously unknown need rapidly surfacing.

“Lucifer.” You felt a change happening in your body, a fire that started from the kindling of his kiss. Almost weightless in the water, your hands clung to his shoulders as you crawled into his lap and he sat back to welcome you. Your legs were bent on either side of him, your knees resting in the soft silt of the shallow pool.  

You lowered yourself down to sit in his lap and almost moved back, jolted by his body’s reaction to yours. Something hard and thick pressed against your middle. 

He pulled back, breaking a particularly heady kiss to offer an explanation you didn’t ask for. “This is how you make me feel.”

You understood. In that moment, your base instincts took over. His feeling was evident on the outside, while yours was purely internal. 

At least, you thought your reaction to him was all internal, until he moved his hand from your waist. His hand moved slowly around the swell of your bottom to where your leg met your center. 

“Lucifer,” you jerked slightly, nibbling his bottom lip, “that tickles.”

“I mean to please, not to tickle you, my sweet.”

You were about to ask him what he meant when his long fingers swiped along your center. A sound escaped your lips that sounded animalistic, almost a whine.

“I truly mean to please you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Tell me if you want me to stop at any time.”

You shifted in his hold, seeking his delectable fingers again. When you spoke your voice was low and demanding, “You’ve already stopped, and I want to feel that again.”

“Yes, my lady.” He nodded his head in reverence to you and his fingers found your center again. He parted your folds, rubbing the length of his fingers along your slit before brushing them against a part of you that sent a shockwave to your spine. 

You jolted this time slightly, your eyebrows pulling upward in surprise at the foreign feeling.

He noted your reaction. “If you need me to slow down I will.”

“Don’t you dare.” Your lips found his again, the blueish glow of the water sloshing up between the two of you as you sought to be closer to him. You slightly rose back up on your knees to give him better access to your intimate flesh. 

Lucifer continued his ministrations. He was only too happy to take advantage of your position. His fingers caressing your sex made you whine again. Then, he pressed one finger inside of you and you inhaled in a ragged gasp. 

“Is this okay?” You barely registered his words as he languidly pumped his finger inside of you. 

You nodded, delighting in the sensation his finger was providing, and delighting in him. Once you were used to the feeling you whispered, “More.”

He pressed a second finger inside you. Your body temporarily shuddered as it adapted to the intrusion. 

You felt an ache eclipse your body, deep inside you, and your instincts told you you needed to be closer to him. In a way that two people could be joined together. His fingers continued to stroke you and he kissed you deeply again, tasting you, cherishing you.

“Lucifer,” you pulled back, lightheaded, a pleasurable feeling was building in your middle, but you needed more. “I -”

Your words failed you as he removed his fingers. You were about to protest when you felt his hardness between your legs. Your center was throbbing with need, and you felt fevered and frenzied without him. Your body craved him.

“I need you inside me, Lucifer.” You wiggled your hips, sloppily kissing his neck and up to his earlobe.

“Are you sure?” His voice was so dark and low. 

“Yes.” Holding to his shoulders, you dragged your wet center along his length to punctuate your answer.

“How could I possibly resist you?” Lucifer’s expression was that of a man starved, and you were certain he meant to devour you. “Eyes on me, I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours as we do this.”

You obey him as you feel his hand reach between the two of you. Then you felt the tip of him. Right there. Right against your core. Just the tiniest movement and he would be inside you.

Greedily, you shifted your hips down slightly, never taking your eyes from his gaze. Unable to stop yourself from the all-consuming closeness you felt to Lucifer. Watching him, wanting him; all the while knowing there is no going back now. And yet, not wanting to miss a single moment. The sensations below and Lucifer - curse his name - drove you to this madness, this ecstasy. He pulled you down, his fingers digging into your waist. 

There was a sharp pain as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate his length. A burning sensation that made you want to move in the opposite direction. Then, as soon as it came on, the pain subsided. It was replaced by a delicious, honeyed heat that speared through your middle as he gave you more and more. He moved slowly, holding you as delicately as he could. 

You watched his lips change from a thin line of steely determination to an open-mouthed pant, a groan escaping from his throat. The two of you were finally hip to hip, as close as you could possibly be, with him hot and heavy and incredible inside you. 

You couldn’t tell if it was you that was trembling or him. Maybe it was both. His grip on your hips tightened, drawing you up, your sensitive spot grazing the plane of his pelvis in a torturous motion. 

“Open your eyes, my sweet, indulge me.” You didn’t realize you had closed them.

You obeyed his ask, “Oh, Lucifer.”

“How does it feel?”

“You feel - ah - better than anything,” you cried out as he snapped his hips to you, “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m acting on our desires, my sweet.” His breath stuttered, as though he was fighting something internally. “No one else will ever have you like this.”

“I’m yours, Lucifer, all yours.” Your sensitive spot grazed his pelvis again, making you gasp. “You’re perfect.” Your fingers tangled in his soft hair as you kissed him deeply, fervently. 

He responded by groaning into your mouth, and when you broke the kiss to lay siege to the skin of his neck, he moaned breathily in your ear. 

You were a quick learner. “Darling Lucifer, do you like it when I tell you that I’m yours?”

“Yes -” He hissed. His breath was rapid now, and he picked up his movements, meeting every thrust and guiding you with his hands on your hips.

You felt a buildup starting again in your center, picking up from where his fingers had left off earlier. The friction was driving you to a point of no return.  A moan tore its way through your chest, reverberating off the cavern walls.

“Lucifer, I’m yours, all yours.” You cried out his name as he slipped one hand between the two of you, using his finger to gently apply pressure to that spot that made the edges of your vision cloud over.

His name was a litany of prayer as he thrust into you over and over while his finger sated your clit. You clung to him with your remaining strength as you felt your body collapsing under waves of pleasure. The sensation was enough to drown you, to pull you under, but his continued motions kept you afloat. 

You gasped, whined, moaned for him, telling him with and without words how you felt. Your legs shook and your hands trembled as they went from his shoulders to around his neck, pulling him in so you were chest to chest. Your entire body felt like it was falling apart and being made whole simultaneously. Your release crashed over you in a multitude of waves.

“I’m yours, Lucifer.” You felt him still inside you, thrusting as deep as he could as he breathed raggedly, filling you with a deep, pulsating heat, a broken sound leaving his lips. He held you like that for a while, the two of you clinging to one another tightly. The rising and falling of your chests and shared breaths returning back to normal.

How could anything return back to normal after this?

With one hand you caressed his cheek, opening your eyes and seeing the weight of his expression, “Luci-”

“You meant that, didn’t you?” His eyes searched your face, looking for hints.

You didn’t need to confirm what he was asking. You knew. He knew the answer as well, but he sought reassurance. “I do. I’m yours.”

He sighed heavily, resting his forehead to yours.

You kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. “And you’re mine.” 

[mmogurl]

Daddy Issues Part 2: Baseline

18+ | 2k | Homelander X Reader |  protective homelander, reader’s back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse.

My Own Writing Prompt: What if Homelander became your Daddy and was really good at it? I'm really enjoying this story so far and found myself eager to write more the next day, even after proofing a 7k chapter for my Daemon story! If you haven't read the first part yet, it's here. Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort

The first thing that strikes you about Homelander’s penthouse in Vought Tower, is how impersonal it is. It has just about as much character as the sterile white walls of a hospital room. You might even confuse it for a museum given the sheer volume of aged paintings on the walls, but most exhibitions would have more color and identity than this drab space.

You can’t help but wonder who Homelander is, because this environment certainly doesn’t tell you much. There are no pictures of him, save for the massive American flag that spans the wall behind you, and the only gaudy knick-knacks present are nonsensical shapes coated in gold. In fact, everything is gold, except for the milky white of the statues peppered throughout the floorplan, the dusky blue walls, and the brown leather couch you sit upon.

Homelander stands across from you next to the giant television screen, staring at you with an unease that you cannot place. In fact, just like his living space, he is quite difficult to read. The lingering effects of traumatic shock make this whole encounter feel even more surreal, your mind and body seeming almost disconnected from reality.

“Is this real life?” you blurt out, remembering that poor kid whose parents recorded him after he’d had dental surgery, still under the effects of anesthesia.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” he spits back with an incredulous sneer.

You quickly realize that Homelander is one of the few men in this world that actually looks kind of hot when he’s being petulant. You tuck this fun fact to the side for now.

“It’s just…” you continue as he glares at you impatiently. “I’m sitting in your home… In Homelander’s home.” The similarity between your locale and his supe name makes you laugh pointedly, an inside joke you’re sure he won’t care for. “It’s kind of far fetched, isn’t it?” you finally state rhetorically, because really it is a stretch that you would ever find yourself here and under such circumstances.

“What? I’m the Homelander. Of course I save people. It’s kind of my fucking job,” he shrugs your observation off as his brow furls in reproach.

“Ok, sure,” you agree tentatively. “But, is it also your job to take the people you save home with you?” It seemed like a valid question, but he certainly doesn’t seem to agree.

“What did you expect me to do?” he marches towards you, holding his hands up to the ceiling. “Leave you there like that?”

“Well, no…” you consider in your slow state of comprehension. “But you could have taken me to the hospital I guess.”

He scoffs with a big huff of air through his lips as he stops in front of you, his arms now crossed against his chest.

“Fat chance. They would just let you out again the moment your physical health was cleared,” he replies in an almost gloating manner, his expression now softening slightly with condescension. “Oho, no,” he waggles a finger from side to side as if to enhance the denial further. “You need someone to save you from yourself. Someone to keep you from fucking up.”

“What?” you ask, quirking your brow and crinkling your nose at him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he cocks his head to the side slightly, clasping his hands behind his back as he begins to pace to the side, keeping his deep ocean eyes glued to you. “You’re going to stay with me for awhile. Get your act together.”

“Get my- What!? What do you even know about my life? You literally just saved me off the street and you’re making assumptions?? Acting like you know me or something?” You can’t help but get emotional. After all, being judged always makes you feel defensive.

“Oh, I know plenty, doll… Plenty,” he stops for a moment, facing you before turning directions and walking back the way from which he came. “First you’re gonna stop the drinking. Maybe we’ll even get you into some fucking therapy or a Sexaholics Anonymous support group, because there’s obviously something going on up there that’s causing you to act like this.”

“Oh yes, while I’m there, I’ll tell them how I’m being held hostage by fucking Homelander! I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of that.” You can’t help but roll your eyes and shake your head.

However, you do not expect the swift retribution that comes as he closes the gap between you both and grabs your chin, your jaw in his hand. “Do not test my patience,” he sounds furious, his voice grating against his teeth as he speaks with his lips no farther than an inch away from your face. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful little shit.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, abruptly releasing your chin so swiftly that your head lurches back from the motion. A whirlwind of thought floods your mind. How does he know so much about you? Are you really trapped here with him and how does he intend to keep you here? Will anybody even notice your gone or bother to come looking for you? All of these questions coupled with the feeling of being seen in your rawest form by a stranger is enough to make you want to fall apart. And you certainly try your best to never cry in front of anyone if you can help it.

“And why do you give a shit?” you ask, already feeling the telltale heat of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. God damnit! “Nobody else ever has.”

The hurt in your voice is evident and you're surprised when Homelander breaks away from you. He walks off down the hall until he’s out of sight and you can hear a drawer open and shut. He returns with a somber expression on his face and a couple of tissues in his hand that he holds out. You take them swiftly, resenting that he has seen you cry, but appreciating that he has given you a way to dispose of this irritating sign of weakness.

“And how could you possibly know that? Hm?” he asks finally breaking the silence, save for your sniffling. “That nobody gives a shit. Clearly I do.”

Something twists inside your gut at being brought so low. You do not like to dwell on these feelings. You don’t want to face them if you can avoid it. But, Homelander, America’s most powerful supe, is seeing you for who you are and despite that is still claiming to care about you. Oddly enough, the disturbing nature of his rationale and how he intends to force you to change against your own wishes does not seem to linger in your thoughts.

What does stay is that he cares. For you. You cannot help the flood of unwanted leaking that spills from your eyes.

“Shh, shh,” he is suddenly consoling you. “I know what’s good for you. You’re going to be alright.” His voice is reassuring as he pats you on the shoulder and rubs soothingly in small circles. You wonder if this line is rehearsed from one of his movies because it sounds familiar and so natural, unlike everything else about him.

Regardless, you can’t help but bury your face into his stomach, turning your head to the side as you wrap your arms around his waist. You have not felt a sense of comfort like this in a very long time and you almost forget that you are weeping like a baby.

“I don’t deserve it,” you find yourself whimpering against his torso, leaving wet tear stains on his suit. “Even my parents didn’t think I was good enough to love.”

He scoffs against his lips once more. It’s not a sign of annoyance this time, but disdain for the lack of kindness you’ve received in your life. “Fuck your parents,” he says with contempt. “I’ll take care of you. Hell, I’ll be your fucking Daddy, and show you what your father clearly failed to.”

You’re blown away by his proclamation. My Daddy? What the fuck is he talking about?

You pull back and look up at him, your eyes wide and wet from crying. He looks down at you without a hint of doubt in his expression. He is completely serious.

“What didn’t he show me?” you ask almost dumbstruck by the situation. It is the only thing you can think to utter.

“That you should stop selling yourself short.” His blue eyes were clear without insinuation as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “That you’re worth more.”

Homelander’s gloved hand slid along the line of your jaw, softly, almost tenderly. And then, just like that, he snapped out of his sympathetic trance and gave you one of those camera ready grins.

“Whelp! First things first,” he said keeping that blithe expression with his cheekbones raised high as he gained some distance away from you. “I’m gonna have to get you a copy of the key card and get you some new clothes. And, I guess until I can get you your own bed, you can just sleep with me.”

He rattled all of this off as though it were perfectly normal. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but you can’t help but ask the obvious questions. “If I get a copy of the key, then what’s to stop me from leaving and going home?”

“Hah! Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” he says with a deriding laugh. “I know where you live for one. And let’s face it! There’s nowhere you can hide from me. So taking off without permission would only serve to piss me off.” You listen as his tone mimics the ups and downs of a particularly peaked roller coaster ride, going from warning to jovial. “So, let’s not do that, alright?”

“Alright,” you agree because what else are you really going to say to the man who can laser you in half just like he did to your attempted rapist not long ago. Besides, he is being rather nice and you do hate your fucking job so much. “Do I still have to work?” you ask chaining off of that thought.

“God no,” he sneers as though the idea were outlandish. “No, you don’t have to work. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t. You can sit around and do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. As long as you let me know and make time for me when I require it.”

You have to admit, this is sounding better and better. “What about my stuff? Can’t I just go and get it then?”

Homelander winces almost mockingly. “No can do,” he offers his feigned condolences. “I think it’s better to just start off fresh, hm? Besides, I can get you anything you want. Why bother holding onto any of that junk?” It sounds like a question, but once again is clearly more of a demand.

“What about pictures? My collectibles?” you ask, because in truth, the only things you really care about, your only good memories from your childhood, can’t easily be replaced.

He rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms, raising one hand to his chin in contemplation. “You really want to remember those assholes?”

You consider his words and begin to think he might be right. Maybe a fresh start would be best. It seemed looking back at old pictures of your mother only ever served to make you upset and bitter.

“Fine,” you acquiesce, “But I want my video games. I have a small fortune in vintage Playstation discs that I’m not letting go.”

Homelander gives you a torn little grimace, shaking his head until he’s nodding. “Fine,” he capitulates without anger.

And now it seems like you’re finally striking some kind of accord together. A baseline for how things will be between you both. It seems clear that he is a bit of a control freak and you understand that quite implicitly because you’re one as well. The only thing left to be discovered is whether or not the two of you will enjoy each other’s company or be driven crazy by it. Continue to Part 3

[devilevlls]

"In the depths of my soul, you reside."

3,259 words - Minors do not interact

TW 📌: "Satanic" rituals, abuse, explicit language, pornographic content, mentions of sexual abuse, hateful language directed at religious groups, blasphemy, corruption kink, demons being demons, unprotected sex, creampie, gay sex, MC is the bottom, MC trusts him to consume a piece of their soul.

MC is AMAB, I use they/them pronouns to refer to them because that's the way I feel comfortable in describing the character. They are called "boy, young man, son" and so. If you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings, please, do not read. Sumary:

After the former priest was removed due to accusations of sexual abuse, the authority place had to be filled by someone else and Lucifer, who owed a favor to his friend Simeon, took the spot, ministering that Saturday to fulfill his obligation.

He ends up finding a new motivation when he encounters MC, who is in conflict with themselves about their dark thoughts. Their desires and duty are fighting to see who would take the young human and the demon would like to help, with a price.

The sound of the chapel's heavy doors echoed, interrupting the stillness of the afternoon, as the man dressed entirely in black entered, moving with determination and agility, casting furtive glances around to ensure he was not being followed. His long, purposeful steps led him until he stopped in front of a cowering, sobbing, fearful figure.

The young human was kneeling before the bench, hands clasped in prayer, tears flowing freely.

"Why are you crying, son?" The newcomer's hoarse voice cuts through the silence, his imposing red eyes penetrating deep into the boy's soul.

They were startled, interrupting their prayer to look at the one who was getting in the way of their sacred moment.

"Forgive me, sir." They bowed gently, voice trembling.

The elder gentleman stood majestically, dressed in the attire befitting his vocation, exuding an aura of divine elegance. 

With a subtle clearing of the throat, they signaled their intention to speak further. “I believe you are the new priest responsible for our humble chapel this saturday. I am your assistant, aspiring priest, a... Deacon.” The human struggle with their words.

"It's nice to meet you, MC." The older man's husky voice delivered a playful tone.

"How do you know my name? I haven't introduced myself yet," MC replied, somewhat intrigued.

"Do not worry. I know everything," the man replied, his enigmatic smile seeming to widen even further. "My name is Lucifer." He took a few steps towards MC, his confident posture and penetrating gaze causing slight discomfort.

A frightening shiver ran down MC's spine, but they forced themselves to maintain composure, standing up and trying to appear receptive, although the nervousness was still evident.

"That's a pretty unusual name for a priest," MC commented, their voice a little shaky as the younger one tried to hide the fear that was beginning to settle inside.

"Do not be scared. I will only stay here while the other priest is being investigated for the rape of the young people in this chapel.”

The mention of the accusation made the boy take a step back, feeling their stomach twist with tension.

"Oh... yes."

"Did he touch you?", Lucifer asked, taking a step forward and reaching for MC's chin, forcing them to maintain eye contact, his imposing presence dominating the surrounding space.

"No, sir. Father Kahleus has always been very kind to me," MC responded quickly, feeling uncomfortable with the unexpected physical contact.

"Humans are so hypocritical, don't you think?", Lucifer continued, his voice filled with cynicism, as he watched MC's reaction with interest.

MC gave a nervous laugh, confused by the direction the conversation was going. "Humans...?", he began, before being interrupted by the tall demon.

"Please, refrain yourself from acting like you don't understand," Lucifer said, his gaze making them uneasy.

Swallowing hard, they turned away from Lucifer, looking down at the ground for a moment before taking a deep breath and gathering the courage to respond.

"Sir, we shouldn't make that kind of analogy in a sacred place like this. Would you like to accompany me, so I can show you your private room next to the tabernacle?"

"Show me the way," Lucifer replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, watching as MC chose to ignore the reality unfolding before them.

— * 

Once inside the room, MC presented all the important documents, financial notes and accessories for the masses that would begin the next day.

"Do you have any questions, sir?" The human asked, briefly meeting Lucifer's gaze before looking away again, feeling uncomfortable under the intensity of those piercing eyes.

"Why were you crying earlier?", Lucifer asked suddenly, breaking the brief silence that hung in the room.

A shiver ran down MC's spine before he could respond. "Father Kahleus was never like that. I feel like the devil tempted him," MC confessed, voice thick with worry and confusion.

Lucifer held back an ironic laugh and sighed, shaking his head. "Are you that naive? People are bad and blaming the devil doesn't make them better," he replied with disarming directness.

"Don't you understand? We have oaths. We all do, and I'm sure you did too," MC insisted, struggling to comprehend the complexity of the situation.

"Many centuries ago, when my wings were still white as snow and my mind corrupted by the ideals of a cowardly creator," Lucifer murmured, a trace of melancholy passing through his eyes.

MC sighed, feeling scared and confused, taking a step back and inadvertently bumping into the coffee table.

"Don't be scared, but I must admit that the more time we spend together, the hungrier I get," Lucifer said, voice filled with a strange sadistic energy, he enjoyed watching his prey connecting the dots and becoming alarmed.

"You... You did this to him?", MC asked, voice cracking at the terrifying possibility.

“Ah… Now you have become aware of who I really am.” He smiled slightly and concentrated for a moment, making his demonic form apparent. “No, I didn’t do anything.”

MC tried to scream, but before they could make any sound, their mouth was immediately silenced by Lucifer's firm, gloved touch, which covered their lips with firm pressure. The demon's gaze conveyed a silent warning, a contained threat that echoed beyond the simple physical gesture. The air around them felt heavy, thick with palpable tension between the two, as MC fought the panic that threatened to wash over. The young human’s eyes widened in despair, but the words were suffocated before they could even come out.

“Let's not make a fuss, okay? You're safer with me than you were with that creep. Unlike him, I know how to keep my dick in my pants instead of molesting innocent young boys and girls.”

MC's eyes widened at Lucifer's explicit language, feeling uncomfortable with the description and lack of shame.

Stopping for a moment, Lucifer was truly stunning, almost mesmerizing, and he was so close already... It made the human's heart race.

The demon sighed and removed his hand from the boy's mouth, looking around before moving away, breaking the physical contact that had left MC so tense. “You don’t look very old, how old are you? Why are you so naive?” “I’m 23 and not a child to be naive.” MC hisses a little offended “I’m aware of what happened, but I can’t believe he would do such a thing.” “Then you are just stupid, young man," He says agressively before changing the subject. "Well, I believe your work is finished for today. I'll see you at mass tomorrow", Lucifer declared, his voice filled with indifference, as if the previous meeting had never happened.

"Why...", MC started to ask, before being interrupted by Lucifer.

"Why, you say? I'm just following orders, nothing more," Lucifer explained as he settled into the office chair, crossing his long legs with an air of nonchalance. "Please leave. You're making me agitated with all this excitement between your legs." Lucifer's final remark made MC feel heat flush their cheeks. “I’m not excited!” They complained.

“I can see your erection from here.” The demon states dismissively, opening one of the reports to analyze.

MC quickly walked away and left the room without saying another word, feeling embarrassed. The encounter with Lucifer left them shaken and confused, questioning how all this could happen in such a sacred environment.

Why didn't the demon attack him or do terrible things to them? These questions echoed in their mind as the panicked figure hurriedly walked to the quarters.

Once there, MC threw themselves on the floor and closed their eyes, trying to banish the disturbing thoughts. The human wondered if it was all just a nightmare or a bad joke, but the firm feeling of Lucifer's hand still hovered over their skin, making them feel indecently warm.

"I wonder if he's really going to minister tomorrow…", MC muttered to themselves, voice filled with uncertainty and apprehension.

They feared what the next day might bring.

—*

The other day, in the morning as promised, MC entered the private room before mass to organize all the accessories, but was surprised to find Lucifer dressed for the celebration, his attire highlighting his magnetic beauty even more. So handsome... So tempting.

"What...?", MC began, their shaky voice reflecting the confusion at seeing the demon there.

Lucifer turned and sighed, recognizing the human's presence. "You again…", he murmured.

"I'm your assistant. I-I mean... I'm the substitute priest's assistant!", MC hurried to explain, reeling in their own troubled thoughts as they watched the demon button his shirt and put on his chasuble with a disconcerting naturalness.

"So nervous early on. This way you won't make it through the rest of the day," Lucifer teased, approaching the young man with an intimidating presence. "Can we go or are you going to keep devouring me with your eyes? I thought you had a vow of chastity to keep."

MC stepped back looking away to avoid the temptations Lucifer offered. "We may proceed. The faithful are arriving," they replied quickly, trying to maintain the composure.

—*

It was truly surprising to watch Lucifer lead the mass. He delivered speeches and read bible verses as if had memorized them in his mind centuries ago. Well, in a way, he actually had them. After all, he was once an angel before becoming that.... Thing.

MC found themselves staring at him as he continued with the ministration, unable to look away. Lucifer's beauty was mesmerizing, every movement elegant, every word spoken with authority. Even though they knew who he really was, MC couldn't help but admire, getting lost in the details of his sculpted body and magnetic aura.

They tried to push away the conflicting thoughts, focusing on the church service that was taking place in front of them. But despite the efforts, the demon's presence continued to exert an undeniable fascination over them.

After concluding the morning mass, they both retreated to the private room once more, where Lucifer intended to change.

"And with that, I'm free from this stupidity," Lucifer remarked with disdain.

"But there's still Sunday mass," the other replied.

"I couldn't care less. Saturday was my agreement, and I've fulfilled my part," Lucifer retorted coldly.

"Please, I don't know how I'll find another priest!" they pleaded, their voice tinged with desperation before clearing their throat. "Not that you're truly a priest, but..."

"Perhaps I could assist... for a price," Lucifer interjected.

The human sighed disapprovingly. "And what do you want, demon?"

"Fear not, nothing of a carnal nature unless that's what you desire. Just a small sampling of your soul. It won't be painful..." Lucifer's voice dripped with mockery, knowing full well it would inflict torment.

"Okay... but..." They fidgeted nervously. "What if I desire... to explore something more?" The young man struggled to articulate their thoughts, aware that the words might inadvertently reveal the weight of something deeply personal. Despite the embarrassment that lingered, they saw this moment as an opportunity to confront a long-standing question that had lingered since their teenage years: exploring intimacy with someone of the same sex.

"More...? Pray, enlighten me," Lucifer responded, already aware of the human's desires but relishing in their embarrassment nonetheless.

"What if I desire... to be intimate with you?" they whispered, their cheeks flushing crimson.

"Ah, you are a naughty one," Lucifer chuckled, crossing his arms. "Very well, then. You've piqued my interest enough to indulge your curiosity."

Lucifer drew nearer, enveloping them in his embrace, arms around their waist, and swiftly initiated a fervent kiss, his tongue forcing the other to yield while they squirm, their kisses growing sloppy.

"Ngh..." the human moaned softly.

"Hush," Lucifer whispered, pulling them closer until their backs met the desk, eliciting a startled squeak. "We wouldn't want anyone overhearing, would we?"

The boy felt his heart thundering as they attempted to match Lucifer's fervor, but this was, indeed, their first kiss. Delicate hands roamed frantically over the demon's back, grasping at his clothes, while their legs trembled, on the verge of collapsing.

Observing the human's struggle, the avatar of pride seized their waist and gently positioned them on the table, slipping his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt to caress the delicate skin underneath.

The young assistant was already swept up in excitement, their cheeks ablaze as they breathed heavily. Their eyes darkened with lust, body craving more with every heartbeat. There was a slight twitching inside their pants and Lucifer noticed right away, brushing his long finger on top of it.

Lucifer leaned in closer, their lips grazing the human's ear as they whispered in a low, sultry tone, "You're quite eager, aren't you?"

They shivered at the sensation, their whole body tingling with anticipation. "I... I want..." stuttered the assistant, their voice barely a whisper as desire flooded their senses.

With a smirk, the demon gently lifted their chin, his gaze locking with the assistant's as he whispered, "Tell me exactly what you want." Swallowing hard, their heart race in their chest. "I want... I want to feel you," they confessed, voice trembling with a mix of nerves and longing.

A predatory gleam sparked in Lucifer's eyes as he leaned in, capturing the assistant's lips in a searing kiss. They melted into each other again, the heat of their desire igniting a flame that consumed them both.

The demon quickly starts undressing, taking off his clothes and tossing around before doing the same with them, until they are only with their underwear. Feeling both exposed and exhilarated, the human experienced a rush of courage as they reached out, their finger tracing along Lucifer's firm chest and abdomen. His physique wasn't overly sculpted, but it was undeniably defined in a way that stirred desire within them. It was fucking sexy.

Biting their lip, they chastised themselves for entertaining such thoughts about him. Yet, with every movement, their mind spun with vivid imaginings of what lay beneath his clothing, igniting a wild frenzy of desire that threatened to consume them completely.

“Now let's begin…” Lucifer cast a spell, conjuring a bright red light that momentarily dazzled the priest assistant. As their vision cleared, they blinked in surprise to find Lucifer holding a bottle of lube in his hand.

MC's cheeks flushed crimson with a mixture of arousal and astonishment. "What... what did you just do?" they stammered, their voice betraying a blend of curiosity and anticipation.

“I just got something to assist you.” He spreads some of the liquid on his hand and comes closer, sliding their underwear down. “Now, be a good boy and spread your legs for me.” As they opened their legs, Lucifer adjusts himself in between, sliding the underwear off his body, making the hardened shaft plop against his abs. The human widened their eyes, admiring how thick and perfect it looked. It was way better than they could ever imagine. Taking a deep breath to steady themselves for what would come next, they fix their gaze on Lucifer as he spread the lube over himself with deliberate care.

Anticipation coiled in the air between them as he stepped closer, now caressing their thighs. “Hold into me and enjoy your ride.” His low voice echos into their mind.

As Lucifer aligned himself and pushed into their entrance, MC gave a sharp intake of breath, instinctively clinging to the demon as a wave of intense pain surged through them. Tears welled in their eyes, and a soft sob escaped their lips, the sensation overwhelming and unexpected.

"Oh, do not cry," Lucifer murmured with a smirk, his voice a blend of amusement and a hint of something more complex. Despite his earlier taunt, there was a surprising gentleness in his actions as he continued to push himself deeper,the movements careful and deliberate, attuned to the human's sensations.“I almost feel pity of you.”

As the older man's hips pressed against theirs, the human's moans and pants grew louder, caught in a mix of pain and pleasure unlike anything they had ever experienced before. 

With each thrust, MC's member pulsed with desire, coating their belly with slick pre-cum, a testament to the overwhelming arousal that coursed through them both. 

"L-Lucifer... I..."

“Already?” Lucifer teases, moving faster and pushing forcefully inside them. They didn’t answer, only digging their nails into Lucifer’s back, nodding while moaning desperately.

Seeing the opportunity, the demon smiles sadistically and turns into his demon form, dark wings spread, growling like a wild animal. His tone was demonic, it had something almost disturbing in it. Without a word, he sinks his fangs into the boy's shoulder, the sudden surge of pain and pleasure caused the boy to gasp and squirm uncontrollably, their body convulsing with ecstasy as they release their load, splattering a mess across both of them in a wild climax of desire and darkness. As Lucifer indulged in consuming the ecstatic piece of soul, relishing its delectable taste, he exercised restraint, ensuring not to take too much.

It was a corruption that came so natural, so enticing, it only fueled his insatiable hunger further. With each taste, he felt himself sinking deeper into them, reveling in the delicious sensation of it all.

He couldn’t hold himself anymore.

He grips into their hips, his nails digging into their skin as he thrust himself deeper with a primal ferocity, ignoring the human's pleas for respite as they get overstimulated, he moved with an unrestrained urgency, becoming increasingly feral as he relentlessly massaged their prostate with his tip. With a primal roar of release, the avatar of pride surrendered to the overwhelming intensity, emptying his pent-up load deep inside them. Groaning and trembling from the sheer magnitude of the moment, he gasped desperately, seeking solace in the warmth of the human's neck as he nuzzled against it. That was the most vulnerable moment of Lucifer, the afterglow. Holding their body tightly, Lucifer ensured they couldn't escape from his corruption, his embrace a mixture of possessiveness and longing, binding them together in the aftermath of their shared descent into darkness. "Hells..." he murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction. He threatens backing away but gets pulled back into the embrace.

"Please... Don't go yet," the human pleaded, their breath still coming in ragged pants as they hugged him back.

"Listen... I'm just here because I was in debt with a friend of mine, so I had to hold a stupid mass, now that I'm done with it, I will go back to Devildom. I'm just catching my breath," Lucifer explained matter-of-factly.

"Oh... So I'm not going to see you again?" There was a slight hint of sadness in their tone.

"What? Are you switching sides now? Want me to take you to hell with me?" Lucifer smirked, nuzzling against the MC's neck once more, inhaling their sweet scent mingled with salty sweat.

"No! Of course not. How could I...?" they replied, their tone falsely offended.

"Don't deny me like we didn't just... you know, fucked" Lucifer teased, his smirk widening as the human blushed and caressed the back of his neck.

“D-Don’t say such a thing.”

"Since you are so inspired… Maybe I could indulge you in a second round, but I don't think your human body will handle me again," Lucifer suggested, his voice laced with amusement.

"Please... Again," they whispered eagerly, desire evident in their eyes.

"Guess I will visit you more, human," Lucifer agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With smiles exchanged between them, they resumed their passionate embrace, forgetting the world outside the private room as they risked getting caught in the most sinful act they could ever do.

Ok, this took me too long... I really really really hope you guys liked it. ＞﹏＜ AO3 version OH! And thanks for the 300 followers! You guys are amazing, thanks for the support, for rebloging my stuff and interacting in the posts, I'm loving every part of it.

[bugrry]

you're the thing that's crystal clear

hbo!joel miller x fem!reader

hello lovebugs!!

a/n: after thirteen months of no new writing, the inspiration bug finally bit me again! please please please let me know what you think! hopefully i'll have more works coming out in the next few months, fingers crossed! :EDIT: at first i'd had it written that it was a gn reader, forgetting that i'd used she/her pronouns for the reader. so sorry!

in this fic there are spoilers for episode six of the last of us AND i have not played the game, so if there are any inaccuracies, sorry!

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, reader and joel reuniting (let me know if i missed/forgot about anything!)

word count: 3,105

part two

Joel and Ellie had been at the commune for three whole hours before Joel can bring himself to ask about you. 

“Where is she?” Joel finally asks as the four of them sit together and enjoy their meal. Tommy sighs, as though he’d been waiting for Joel to ask the question. He probably had been. 

“I don’t know, Joel,” Tommy grunted, piercing the last morsel on his plate with his fork. 

“You said she came here with you,” Joel grumbles, his voice just above a whisper. 

“I also said she didn’t want to talk to you,” Tommy responds, swallowing and standing. He grabs his and Maria’s plate once she indicates that she’s done eating. Tommy moves to go to the kitchen, and Joel is following close behind him.

“So she’s here.” He tries to hide the desperation in his voice, but he doesn’t think he was all that convincing. He also doesn’t think he really cares. 

Tommy turns to him, almost snatching Joel’s plate out of his hands. “I’ll tell her you’re here. Let her decide what to do about it. Don’t you dare go lookin’ for her.” 

Joel sighs as he watches Tommy walk away from him, and he decides that he’s going to explore the rest of the commune. He eventually finds himself alone, sitting at a bar in an empty restaurant, thinking about the last time he saw you.

Three Years Ago

“Joel please!” You begged from where you stood with your half-packed backpack.

“No. I’m not joinin’ those Firefly fucks.” He stood tall and intimidating in front of you, almost like he was going to physically stop you from leaving. 

“Even if I have to go?” You said sharply, turning to grab another essential from your small cabinet. 

“You don’t have to go.” Joel almost scoffed. 

“I’ll die if I stay here.” 

“I’ll protect you!” Joel’s hands flew out from where they’d been at his sides. You flinched at the movement and the sudden change in his tone. 

“You can’t. Not from this.” You mumbled, just barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“From what?!” He continued to speak harshly, and you had to push through the instinct to just shut down. 

You dropped what you’d been holding, pressing the palms of your hands into the edge of the counter.  

“From myself!” You took a deep breath and finally turned to face him. “I am rotting here, Joel. I need to get out. For good.”

You had tried so hard to find a purpose here, with him, but every passing day only convinced you further that staying in Boston would kill you. One way or another, you knew that staying here would lead to you being just another one of the bodies that Joel had to toss in the pit. You shuddered at the thought. 

“You’ll rot there too! You can’t pick and choose your life anymore, Y/N! It’s like this everywhere!”

You shook your head, feeling heat rush into your face. “It doesn’t have to be! What if there’s something else out there? Something better?”

“You want to risk your life to find out?”

“Yes, Joel! I have to!” You heard your voice crack, and it was evident that the desperation in your body language had finally seeped its way into your words. 

“Fine!” He barked, turning towards his liquor cabinet as you finished shoving your things into your bag.

“Fine!” You pushed the whimper out of your voice as you zipped your bag shut and made your way out of your shared apartment. 

Once you’d slammed the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against the weakened wood. You shut your eyes as tight as you could, trying to will the tears away as you left down the stairs to where Tommy was waiting for you outside. 

Present Day, 2023

“Joel?” A soft voice comes from behind where Joel had parked himself at the bar. Joel’s head snaps up at your near-silent entrance. “Is that you?”

“...Y/N?” He curses himself for letting someone sneak up on him yet again. But once he sees your face, sees that you’re okay and alive he feels himself deflate. He hadn’t heard from you since you left, only getting bits and pieces from his brother, though Tommy had refused to give Joel much more than that. Joel was sure that had been at your request. After a while, Joel had stopped hearing from Tommy altogether, and thus lost access to whatever minuscule amounts of information he’d been getting about you. 

“They said that Tommy’s brother had come through. Guess they weren’t lyin’.”

“Guess they weren’t.” He mumbles, turning back to where he’d been picking at the chipping wood of the bar.

“You’re really gonna leave her?” You say softly, coming around to the other side of the bar. You pull two glasses from under the counter and turn to grab a bottle of whiskey off the shelf behind you. 

“Shit. How fast does word spread around here?” Joel says, watching your every move, trying to memorize the way you fit into this place so naturally, trying to convince himself that you’re happier here. Without him. 

“Fast enough.” You sigh, placing a half-full glass in front of him. “Dammit.” He doesn’t grab the glass right away, staring at the sloshing liquid until it stills. 

“You can’t leave her.” You say, resting your now empty hand against your hip. 

“Like you left me?”

You sigh, moving to pull a stool from under the counter. You can’t bring yourself to sit directly next to him, not yet. You needed the foot of space that the bar provided to keep you from completely drowning yourself in his presence. “I didn’t have a choice, you know that. You meant the world to me. You still do."

“Do I?” “Joel.” You hesitate. “Do I?” He barks, and there’s a harshness to his words that hadn’t been there when he’d first asked the question. You appear to flinch, but he chooses not to comment on your obvious apprehension. You take a minute to compose yourself before beginning to speak.

“Of course you do. There hasn’t been anyone since you. I don’t know if there ever will be.” You look down at the bar in front of you, daring only once to sneak a peek at Joel’s hands that had finally clasped around the glass. “You don’t have to lie for me. I’m a big boy.” He takes a swig of his drink, grimacing at the pleasant burn it left as it traveled down his throat. “I’m not lyin’. You were it for me.” You continue to avoid his eyes as you busied yourself with wiping down the counter.

Joel grumbled, wanting to drop his head onto the old wood in front of him. “You’re too young for me to have been it for you.” “Maybe so, but I loved you.” “Loved?” “What does it matter to you?” You snap, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. It was then that you noticed just how tired he was. Sure, he’d been grizzled and tired when you’d last seen him, but it seemed that the last three years had aged him faster than the previous seventeen had. 

“Never mind.” He says, breaking eye contact and looking back down at where his fingers traced the carvings in the glass. 

You soften, realizing just how much you’d truly missed him, how much you still miss him. You miss the way he’d hold you after a supply run went wrong – or right, for that matter. Joel had loved holding you whenever he got the chance. You miss the way he’d laugh at one of your shitty jokes, playfully pushing you away from him as you tried to get him to admit he’d found it funny. You blush when the thought pops into your head, but you also miss the way he’d put his whole body into kissing you, always made you lose yourself in the feel of his lips, his hands, and his thighs pressed against your body. You didn’t want to dig yourself any deeper of a hole, so you decide to bring the topic back to something you could think about without wanting to scream. 

“Please don’t leave her, Joel.”

Joel groans, looking back up at you and frowning, “We’re back on this?”

“It’s important. I can tell how much she means to you.” “It’s none of your business,” he says, taking a final swig of his drink. 

“Isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, looking down at the empty glass in front of him, “Nope.”

“I suppose it’s not,” you relent, moving to pour him another few ounces. He lets you.

“I’m glad we finally agree on something.”

You nod, looking down at the bottle in your hands. You place the bottle back on the shelf, turning back to take a drink out of your own glass. You decide to push it further. 

“Ellie’s not going to let you leave her.”

Joel sighs as if he’s annoyed that the conversation has continued, but he doesn’t leave. For that, you are thankful.

“What do you know about her?” He demands quietly, still refusing to look back up at you.

“I know enough.”

“I’m not gonna leave her,” he concedes, “I’m gonna give her a choice. Let her stay here or come with me.”

“She’s gonna choose you.”

“How do you know? You didn’t.” 

“That was different.” “Was it?” He grunts. 

“Yes. Because I regret it.” At this, his eyes snap up to meet yours. You’re looking at him sadly, as if it was obvious, as if he should have known that you regretted leaving him. Maybe he should have. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just staring at you and watching the tears pool in your eyes.

“Oh,” is all he comes up with, and you frown. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear? That I regret leaving you? That I’ve been miserable this whole time without you?”

“No, of course not,” he says sincerely. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes and taking another drink from your glass, “Yeah right.”

“You think I wanted you to be miserable?” Joel says, finally standing from his seat at the bar, “I’ve thought about you every day since you left. I didn’t want to let you leave, but I also knew I had no power to stop you. I knew you were miserable in Boston. I knew I couldn’t convince you to stay.” “Even with how miserable leaving you made me feel, I think it was the right choice.” Joel frowns again, and the wrinkles around his eyes become only more prominent. You yearn to press the obvious hurt out of his face. You don’t let him speak, holding up your hand as you continue talking.

“I think I had to leave you. I don’t think I realized how important you were to me until I didn’t have you anymore.” At your words, Joel's frown only hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t you tell me what I mean, Joel Miller,” you snap, your back straightening from where you’d been leaning against the shelf. 

“If I was so important to you, why didn’t you come back?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me back.” 

Joel’s face softens. He looks at you like you’ve just told him the most heartbreaking news he’d ever heard. “What?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it, “You thought…” he trails off, not allowing himself to finish the thought. 

“I thought you hated me.” You blurt. You curse yourself, you’d meant to say it softer than that, to maybe sugarcoat it a little bit. 

“You thought I hated you?” You don’t answer him this time, merely shrugging and looking down and tracing the grain pattern of the bar. “I could never hate you.”

He says it so harshly you feel as though you’re being scolded, and it only makes you shrink further in on yourself. He notices your shift and softens. He comes around your side of the bar, needing to be close to you, to feel your warmth again. You allow him to approach you, and when you don’t shy away from him, he feels a part of him that has been asleep for three years reawaken. He is filled with a sort of warmth that he never thought he’d feel again as he reaches up to cup your face, speaking softly, “Sweetheart, I could never hate you. Never in a million years could I hate you.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek, and he may be imagining it, but he thinks he feels you press your face into his hand. You close your eyes, but he has more to say.

“Y/N, listen to me. We’ve been through too much for me to ever hate you. I’ve seen you at your absolute worst and I still wanted you so bad it hurt.”

You pull away from his touch, and he feels cold again.

“That was before I left,” You say, almost as if you’re ashamed of yourself.

“That’s true. Even after that, though. I never hated you. Not for a second.” “Don’t lie to me Joel,” you almost whimper, and you shut your eyes in embarrassment at letting your voice crack.

“I’m not lying to you. Sure, I was pissed. Heartbroken, even. I thought you and Tommy were idiots for leaving, but there’s no way in hell I ever hated you for it.”

You give a non-commital shrug, still avoiding eye contact with him, “sure,” you eventually mumble.

“I’m telling you the truth. I have to reason to lie to you.”

“To spare my feelings, maybe.” You say softly, now fidgeting with your fingers.

“When have I ever done that?”

This makes you chuckle quietly, and he’s filled with a sort of pride that warms him from the inside out. There’s my girl, he finds himself thinking. Your laugh and your smile fades, and with it, that fuzzy feeling in Joel’s chest. 

“You should hate me.” You finally say. 

“I know,” he says, reaching up to touch you again. This time, he reaches for your hair, pushing a lock of it from your face, “But I can’t bring myself to.”

It's quiet for a few moments before you speak again, “I thought I hated you.” Joel’s hand drops from your face.

“What?” He tries to keep the fear out of his voice, and from your lack of reaction, he hopes that he’s succeeded. 

“I thought I hated you because you let me leave so easily. I thought you’d just decided you didn’t need me anymore. That I wasn’t worth fighting for. That was stupid, I realize that now. But I wrote some pretty bitter things about you in my journal.”

Joel’s hand moves back up to your face, this time to brush away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, “I could never not need you.”

You shake your head, moving out of his grip again. “You did just fine for more than a decade without me.”

“Maybe I just didn’t realize how alone I was.”

This makes you laugh again, but not in a way that fills Joel with warmth. It’s bitter, doubtful, and angry.

“I could show you,” he starts again, moving back into your personal space, “if you’d let me. I could show you how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

“I don’t…” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

“Joel…” you start again, but this time you let yourself trail off, not knowing what you were going to say, just knowing that you should probably say something.

“Please sugar,” he starts again, placing his hands softly on your shoulders. You don’t move any closer, but you also don’t move away, so Joel keeps going, “You said it yourself. There’s still a small part of you that loves me, even if you probably shouldn’t.”

You mumble something to yourself, something Joel couldn’t make out. He reaches up to move your face towards him, to force you to look at him. You obey his silent request, looking up and into his eyes that were somehow still so soft, even after all these years. 

“It’s not a small part of me, Joel,” you say again, speaking louder this time, “It was never a small fucking part. My whole being was devoted to you. It tore me apart to leave you. I was useless on the road. Once we were with the Fireflies, I threw myself into my work and my chores so that I didn’t have to think about the huge Joel-shaped piece that was missing from my heart. I hate myself for leaving, and I hate myself even more for not going back to Boston and fighting for you. I was a coward. I still am.”

By the time you’re finished talking, tears are streaming down your face. Joel is looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, and it makes you want to curl into a ball and never speak to anyone again. He lets you cry for a moment before he responds.

“If you’re a coward, then I’m a coward too. I could have just as easily come looking for you.” “I never expected you to.” You squeak out, in between your sobs “And I never expected you to come back. That doesn’t mean I got over you leaving. I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. And I hadn’t, not until I saw you here.”

Once he finishes speaking, he finally pulls you into his chest and just lets you sob into him. He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there, in that empty bar, with his arms wrapped around you, but what he does know is that he never wants to let you go. Eventually, your sobs fade to quiet sniffles and you shift in order to wrap your arms around his body. Even though the two of you are pressed against each other, the way you grab at him makes it seem as though you need him even closer. You mumble something into his chest that he can’t quite make out, so he pulls you away from him. You whine at the loss of his touch, but you quiet once you see how he looks at you.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I said I love you.” You sniffle, reaching up and wiping a tear from his face.

“I love you too, Y/N. God, do I love you.”

-

part two

[teamoakills]

an assortment of spark and arrows </333

if you wish to read my long-winded Hair Headcanons for Lark & Sparrow please continue on below vvvvvv

Ok so, like Lark & Sparrow, I myself am a L&S twin. We've had to keep our hair at certain lengths in order for others to help them memorize whos-who and I always thought it would be funny if I forced these guys to suffer that same curse.

Lark had long-ish hair (L for Long) and Sparrow had short-ish hair (S for short)

I feel like Sparrow would be more agreeable in keeping his hair maintained anyway, and he would be able to convince Lark to tie his hair up lest his long hair get in the way of BATTLE! So in my head, they would keep this pattern throughout most of season 1.

Anyways after you-know-what happens, Lark stops tying his hair up at all. It's his first act of defiance, or at least his attempt to show his emotions on the surface. Even Sparrow can't convince him to let him do anything with it anymore. Lark just stops caring.

At the end of season 1, probably during the in-between of s1-s2, Lark cuts his hair short almost completely. I imagine it to be an act fueled with desperation, cutting his long hair to further himself from who he used to be and to place his internal struggles into physical action. Now their silly little childhood pattern is ruined!

In response, s2 Sparrow starts to grow his hair out longer. It is now his desperation making him attempt to reconnect with how their bond used to be by maintaining their Long-Short pattern (only now it's swapped). The Silly Hair Pattern is back, but it's wrong. It's wrong in a way that just goes to show no matter how much Sparrow tries, things in their family won't go back to being like how they used to be!

so baasically s1 Sparrow had short hair and Lark had long hair s2 Sparrow has long hair and Lark has short hair that's about it <3

[little-emerald-snake]

Getting Caught pt 4 Finale - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

I can’t believe you heathens have gobbles this little series up so frantically and kept enjoying every part I put out. I’m so grateful everyone likes it. That being said consider this a finale piece. I have so many branching ideas that I want to work on and therefore I feel I’ve written a good end for this little series. I hope you enjoy and thanks for hanging on for this little journey.

Warnings: a little fluff, losing virginity, awkward first time, mentions of blood, unprotected p-in-v, use of the word cervix (some of yall CANT get with that word so I added it here 😅)

1.4k words

Ominis paced the Undercroft. His head had been an absolute mess since their last meeting. All his life he’d never wanted to have sex with anyone, the fear of producing an heir or subjecting a woman to his family being far too much for his sanity.

But now all he could think about was what she felt like inside, how badly he wanted to take her sweet, soft innocence and make her cry out in pleasure while wrapped around him. How badly he wanted to hold her in his arms and drown in her incredible scent.

He’d thought about sex but never this much in his entire life. His thoughts as he laid in bed awake trying to sleep was what her possible reaction would be, would she also want it? What would become of them if they went farther, could he protect her from his family if they decided to court?

His head lifted when he heard the whirring clocks, he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back and listening to each echoing boot step as she came closer. “Ominis. I got your owl…”

He held out his hand, causing her to stop. “C-can I say what I have to say?” After a beat of silence and a small yes he continued. “I-I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you. Maybe it’s because we’ve suddenly become rather intimate…but…I find myself feeling a strong desire for you. One that can’t be quenched while alone in my bed at night.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the harsh hammering of his heart. “I…want to ask if you’d be open to courtship. I know my family is less than desirable to be associated with but I could keep it secret from them. We could just tell our close and trusted friends…or if you’re not okay with that maybe…it stays strictly physical and secret.”

He wished now more than ever to have sight, to see her face…her silence made his stomach tighten into harsh uncomfortable knots. But when she finally spoke he couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. “Ominis…I…you want to become physical?”

His cheeks reddened, a stutter marring his speech. “W-well I…y-yes I suppose. I-I-I mean I’d love to court you first but I…can’t stop thinking of whatever we've been doing together. I-I want more, however you’ll give it to me.”

She stepped closer to him, with each step his heart crashed against his ribcage, threatened to burst from his chest. To his surprise the pounding of his heart was the furthest thing from his mind as her hand caressed his cheek and soft lips met his.

He stayed absolutely still till she pressed deeper into the kiss, then his hands were in her hair, pulling her close as their kiss deepened. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, no urgency behind it, just raw emotions.

When the kiss broke they were both red cheeked and breathless. He was still holding her close, afraid that if he let her go she may dissolve into thin air.

She caressed his cheek again and he could hear her smile. “Ominis…I’d love to be yours. W-we can figure out how to manage your family as we go but I want this, us.”

Ominis swept her up into his arms and she giggled happily. He kissed her again, still holding her in his arms, maneuvering them deeper into the Undercroft. He sank to his knees and laid her on the pile of blankets, breaking the kiss. “D-do you want to go further?”

A small yes had him diving forward, lips crashing against hers. This kiss was a hungry, burning, all consuming wildfire that had her clawing at his chest, pulling him down against her.

He hovered above her, one hand awkwardly coming up to paw at the front of her shirt. A wave of heat pooled in his groin, sparking to life the need he harbored for her. She hummed softly which he took as a good sign, groping a bit harder and seeking her nipple through the fabric.

She breathlessly took his hand, helping him slide it up under her shirt and their kiss was broken as he moaned just from the feeling of her chemise. He was rock hard against her thigh, grinding himself greedily against her.

He pinched her nipple a bit harder than intended, causing her to yelp. He looked up sheepishly, apologizing before abandoning her breast and sliding his hand down to her skirt, hiking it up around her waist.

He groaned as his fingers met her wet center, dipping in to collect her wetness before rolling over her clit. She sagged against the blankets, moaning needily as he picked up speed.

Her back arched and Ominis pushed himself up as best as he could, still rubbing her as he attempted to free his aching erection one handed. He paused to rub a flattened palm over himself, desperate to soothe the urgency.

Once he’d accomplished freeing himself he was pushing against her, awkwardly leaning over her while trying to line himself up between her legs.

She tensed and he stopped, going back to rolling her sensitive bud under the pads of his fingers. “No rush darling, it’s okay. Sorry for my eagerness.”

She clutched his shirt, lifting her hips to chase the feeling he was giving her. She was gasping and moaning, writhing beneath him and if he didn’t know better he’d think she was about to cum.

His suspicion was confirmed when he nudged against her entrance again and she wriggled her hips against him, he could feel her spasming even just pressed against her entrance. His eager fingers sped up on her clit as a sob caught in her throat.

He pushed past the thin barrier of her virginity, turning her blissful sounds into a sharp cry. His attention was divided between the blissful heat he was slowly shoving into and petting her hair gently while cooing encouragements. “S-such a good girl. Gods, you feel so tight.”

She whimpered, pulling him closer which was his only sign to keep pushing into her almost too tight heat. His control waned when he lifted his hand to feel her face and caught a wet tear sliding over her cheek.

He tried to pull out and she shook her head, tugging at his shirt. “D-don’t stop. M’fine…please.”

He didn’t stop, instead focusing on rubbing her sensitive nub while lurching his hips forward inside of her. His thrusts were jerky and untimed but he still felt her clench around him and heard her whimper in pleasure.

A sick satisfaction and sense of pride took over him when he smelled the tang of blood and felt the slickness of it coating him. He shoved all the way inside, feeling her clenched tightly while he pulled out and shoved back in.

A choked moan escaped her throat and she clung tighter to him. They rocked together, finding a rhythm where he pulled out and pushed back in. He was much longer than she’d imagined so he bottomed out every time, causing a gasp when his tip kissed her cervix.

His elbows were planted on either side of her head as he rut into her, hips moving faster and more fervently. He grunted and groaned till finally he stilled and spilled inside of her, filling her up.

Her cheeks were red as she laid beneath him, embarrassed and shy after feeling him absolutely unload inside of her. He panted, adjusting so he could hold her face. “M’fuck I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Don’t worry, won’t stop till you’re done too.”

She couldn’t believe he was still hard, his hand moved down to rub her clit again and his thrusts resumed, gentle and calculated. It wasn’t long before her moans and arching back indicated she was close. He felt her body language and soon she was clutching onto him, whimpering and begging. “G-gonna…m’gonna cum! Ominis!”

She did, clenching around him, she exploded in blissful orgasmic pleasure. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm as she whimpered and pleaded through her orgasm as it tore through her.

He held her, staying buried inside of her as he soothed her and caressed her. Petting her hair and praising her. “You’re so incredible. This is perfect. Gods I can’t believe your mine. All mine.”

She blushed, relaxing in his touch as he held her, basking in his warmth and soothing touch, taking in the fact that this all started with her catching him in the act down in this exact spot.

[wrangleandtame]

Here’s yet another Tyler x Kate fic - can’t stop myself ♥️🌪️

ANNUAL DERECHO

Kate’s anger came in tractable forms Tyler had easily categorized during their three months together. Most frequently when Tyler pissed her off, he’d easily disarm her with his warm charm or an earnest declaration. Occasionally, her quiet melancholy could metastasize into a subtle ire that she contained by seeking solitude. He knew this, and gave her the space she required to shake it off. These were rare occurrences, though, within her generally sunny and energetic mien.

For the last week, the team found themselves particularly unlucky in their weather chasing within Texas, resulting in tension and general unease. Kate never appeared perturbed by the losses, often taking to the radio with optimistic little comments: “Can’t wrangle them all.” “It’ll happen.” “Just a dry spell.” Tyler marveled at how a few encouraging words from Kate could reset the entire team’s attitude.

Today was different. She awoke with a biting choler dripping from each syllable. Simple questions, she met with curt monosyllabic answers, and avoided eye contact (her tell.) She busied herself with mundane tasks, anything it seemed, to avoid inertia.

He’d placed a hand on her back, and she’d bristled. She swerved to avoid his kiss, like she was dodging a fastball. The lightest physical affection she pulled from as though her skin burned from his touch.

His breakfast-loving Kate, who normally stacked hashbrowns and eggs into weird towers before consuming, who stuffed whole pancakes and sausages into a baggie “for later,” she’d say when rushed, today couldn’t be bothered to eat. Weather didn’t dictate rushing this morning, but she’d ordered only toast and coffee for breakfast, consuming a single bite of toast and three sips of black coffee (she preferred it sweet and creamy) before the scrutiny of his eyes upon her proved too much.

She’d mumbled, “not hungry, I’ve got to…” She’d stood up and left without finishing her sentence.

When he’d joined her in the truck (why wasn’t she sitting outside? The truck had to be moving for Kate to be happy within it.) she’d turned her knees away from him and dug through her bag, never finding what she sought.

Kate’s body broadcast her feelings better than words, something anyone with eyes could discern. Her shoulders lifted and tight, her jaw muscles clenched, she continued hunching over her computer, scowling at the screen. Every part of her looked wound tight, her countenance like a rubber band pulled to snapping.

He watched her face press into frustration while she typed furiously, pausing to pull out her tablet and only became further irritated with whatever she read.

“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled.

“You’re too damn pretty Kate; what the hell am I supposed to do? Like tellin’ someone to quit lookin’ at a sunrise.”

She didn’t respond with words, but her face momentarily transmuted from annoyance to a contemplative doleful expression. If he was reading her right, and he knew he was, guilt and regret had a hand in whatever was so obviously plaguing her.

“Something you want to talk about?” The bait probably too big for the hook, but he cast the line anyway.

“Like what?” She bit out, not raising her eyes from her screen.

“Weather? Politics?” She flinched at his words as though he yelled them through a bullhorn.

When she didn’t respond, he sighed quietly and said, “Just gonna check in with Dani and Dexter. If you need me, I’ll be across the lot.”

Her response was a terse nod again devoid of visual connection.

He whipped out a folding chair positioning himself next to Dani and Dexter; though his open laptop perched upon his denimed knees, his eyes barely left Kate’s form.

“She okay?” Dani asked, concern in her voice.

He gave her a brief reassuring smile, “She will be, but no, not right now she’s not.”

She didn’t require more of an explanation, and neither had Dexter, thankfully. Lily and Boone had driven into Galveston to pick up a part for the drone, relieving Tyler of the type of questions and interaction Boone would require given Kate’s behavior.

Several hours passed, and they asked little from Tyler. Instead, Dexter and Dani passed between them Doppler updates, snacks and weather chaser gossip as they reviewed disappointing projections.

When Javi’s truck pulled into the parking lot, Tyler straightened in surprise.

“Hey, thought Javi was in Galveston too,” Dani noticed. “Isn’t he supposed to be meeting with those fellas at NWS in Fort Worth?” Dexter asked.

“Far as I know,” Tyler murmured.

Javi parked near Tyler’s truck, hopped out and made a beeline for Kate. She glanced up, and an emotion Tyler couldn’t identify crossed her face.

She immediately shoved her tech aside, clambered out of the truck and briskly walked to Javi; when they reached each other, they hugged fiercely. Tyler could see her shoulders began shaking the way they did when she cried. She was fucking crying.

Tyler stood, started for them, and then stopped. Despite all of his instincts screaming to comfort her, he sat back down. Whatever the hell was going on between them, Tyler’s presence wasn’t needed, and he reminded himself to respect her boundaries. This did not come naturally to Tyler. He possessed a proclivity for protectiveness to the point of being downright territorial, though he hid it well, he thought. Thankfully, his desire to honor Kate’s wishes overrode any possessiveness that reared its very unattractive head.

Dexter patted him on the back, and quietly praised him, “well done.” Maybe he didn’t hide it that well.

It upset him to think on how all morning she had sternly rebuked his every attempt at connection, but Javi just appeared, and they were having this moment together.

Within this mounting frustration, an epiphany struck Tyler, and he whispered, “I’m an idiot.”

“What’s that?” Dani asked.

“Nothing,” he responded, his thoughts swirling with the formation of a plausible hypothesis for Kate’s mood, and Javi’s presence.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, Tyler studied their interaction for confirmation. Javi’s eyes were closed, but even from here, Tyler could see several rogue tears escape down his face. He said something, Tyler could see his mouth moving, and Kate pulled back a bit from Javi’s embrace, wiping roughly at her eyes and nose.

They continued to talk, Kate’s arms folded around herself as they did, and then to Tyler’s great relief, she half-smiled. Javi laughed lightly and Kate nodded. Javi pulled napkins from his pocket and handed half of them to Kate. She blew her nose, and he blew his, and they laughed again. Not joyous laughing, but still, it wasn’t crying.

Javi stuffed his napkins in his pocket and pointed at his truck. They hugged again quickly, Kate smiled wistfully, and Javi jogged back towards his truck. He caught Tyler’s eye, and with a subtle dip of his head offered a wordless greeting. Tyler returned it with a smile.

When Tyler tried to locate Kate again, she was walking quickly towards the convenience store across the street.

Tyler sauntered back over to his truck to wait for her to return and checked his phone, confirming his theory. Sure enough, on the same date, five years ago, an EF5 tornado ended the lives of Kate and Javi’s friends. He pulled open his phone’s calendar and typed: “Anniversary of Kate’s Tornado” and set it to a yearly reminder.

Kate exited the convenience store, and as she closed the distance between them, he smiled, “Hungry yet?”

She shook her head, and handed him a peace offering bottle of cold tea, “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a complete asshole today. I didn’t mean to - “

“S’okay Kate,” he smiled.

“It’s not. I’ve been awful to you.”

“You’re entitled to have a bad day every once in awhile.”

“Sure, but…I took it out on you,” she looked at the gravel and then up at him (finally! Prolonged eye contact!), her glassy eyes red-rimmed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Ever,” she sniffed. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”

“Nothin’ to forgive,” he smiled softly. “Be alright if I hold you a minute?”

Unshed tears made her dusky sienna eyes sparkle, “Yes. Please.”

She leaned into his chest and he clutched her to him, one arm around her waist and one drawing her head closer. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. She unconsciously grabbed a fistful of his soft brown shirt like she was keeping him from pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, and he wondered if she was apologizing to some ghosts as well.

“It’s alright, honey. I can take it,” he kissed the top of her head again, and pulled her against him even tighter. He ran his thumb along her spine up and down slowly, “it’s alright.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

AUTHOR’s NOTE: thank you to this beautiful fandom for all of your encouraging feedback. The dopamine hits from your comments is giving me life.

Was thinking of doing another chapter of this one from Kate’s perspective of the day. What do you think? Move on?

Am also working on two other Kate x Tyler fics - obsessed is an understatement.

[livelaughlovekny]

Taking care of Muichirou when he is sick

Summary: Muichirou caught a cold after not listening to you and you had to take care of him (+Bonus)

  His form and movements were precise and perfect as always. To anyone else, nothing about his seemingly stoic appearance seemed off. You knew though. You weren’t anyone else; you were the “stubborn Tsukugo who enjoys being tormented”. His lips had paled ever so slightly. His eyes weren’t their usual mint green. His skin was less glossy. This has been going on for more than a week and you saw that signs were starting to get worse. Muichirou was sick.

  After your usual training session, you observed him silently. Muichirou continued on with his habit of wiping his sword, sheathing it before proceeding to his own physical training. You contemplated telling him your “findings” and suggesting he visit the Butterfly Estate. Were you overreacting though? Perhaps he was just affected by the heat and not his health. Well, it wouldn’t hurt too much if you asked him just in case right? You stared at him, a minute had barely passed, he was already completing 146 push-ups and continuing without any obvious signs of discomfort or pain. “Hey, are you, like, sick or unwell?”

  Not pausing his training, he replied, “No.” Ah, well, if he said so. You still didn’t quite believe him since this was the same person who was said to have nearly trained himself to death but decided not to push it any further.

  After completing your break, you started on your own workouts too. 2147 sit-ups later, you heard the sound of thunder cracking and saw lightning flash. Picking up your pace, you tried to at least reach 2200 sit-ups before seeking shelter in the Mist Estate. Moments later, rain poured down. Groaning, you hurriedly got up and rushed into the estate. Your training had been disturbed but at least you could continue in the estate.

  Finding a suitable spot, you were about to continue when you notice Muichirou still outside practising his stances and swinging his sword repeatedly. A thunderstorm is currently taking place and yet he still continues training outside. “You’ll get sick. Come in and find another way to train.” You were ignored.

  The day continued on as usual. You continued with your usual workout in the estate while Muichirou continued with his training outside the estate and under the rain. You went to bed and so did he. You woke up the next day fine. He didn’t.

  You knew immediately because your room was facing his. Upon opening your bedroom door, you noticed two very wrong things. One, his bedroom door was closed. Muichirou always wakes up before you and only closes his door when he’s inside. Two, you heard loud coughing coming from his room. You knocked twice on his door before sliding it open, not waiting for any response.

  Muichirou was lying on his mattress, curled up in a foetal position and coughing heavily. God, why don’t people listen to you when you bring up good points? Makes you wonder who the stubborn ones really are. Pushing his fringe away, you lay the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning. “Stop touching me, I can handle myself.” Muichirou pushed your hand away. You snorted.

  “Don’t bother, hold on, I’ll be back soon.” Despite his previous protest, he made no effort to stop you from whatever you were going to do. Leaving his room, you mutter to yourself about how you had no idea how to care for sick people, much less stubborn and idiotic ones. Drenching a towel in a bowl of cold water, you brought the bowl to his room. Setting the bowl down, you sat down and squeezed the towel before folding it neatly and placing it on Muichirou's forehead. “What are you doing?” Swatting his hand that was reaching for the towel away, you glared at him. “Stop it, you’re clearly sick and dying. Don’t you dare refuse my efforts to care for you.”

  “I’m not dying.” You replied instantly, “To be fair, everyone is dying.” Silence. Triumphantly, you smiled. You knew he would say that and prepared a response beforehand. “Now, lie still and quietly while I write a letter to the Butterfly Estate for advice on how to care for sick, stubborn dummies.”  No response, you’ll take that as a win too. Laughing internally, you left his room and went to yours.

  A few minutes later, your crow was flying off to the Butterfly Estate. Returning to Muichirou’s room, you note that he was lying still and silently. Muichirou stared at the ceiling with a blank expression. Unsure what else you were supposed to do, you leaned forward and looked down at him. His eyes refocus on your face. You grin. “I’ve sent a letter, I’ll be training in my room. If you need me, just call for me. I’ll check up on you and adjust the towel every once in a while.” Pausing, you remembered that the both of you had yet to eat. “Oops, I forgot about breakfast. Hold on, let me see what I can do.” 

  “I’m not hungry.” So insistent on ruining his health. “Nonsense, your body is fighting for its life, it needs food and that’s final.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you walk to the kitchen. Hands on each side of your waist, you looked at the food supply. “Wonderful, I have no idea what to make that wouldn’t make him sicker.” For the briefest of brief moments, you think about just knocking Muichirou out.

  No, you don’t trust yourself enough to not accidentally somehow kill him by hitting the wrong spot. And if you did somehow manage to not kill or induce a coma, you knew he would immediately cut your head off. You liked where your head is and would like it to remain that way. If only he listened to you! None of this would have happened and you wouldn’t have to figure out a way to not give your master food poisoning while he was sick. “Porridge. Sick people can consume porridge right? That’s just watery rice and some other stuff right?” You bit your bottom lip, considering the risks of carrying out a freestyle recipe. 

  You were sure an eternity had passed when you finally entered Muichirou’s room with a steaming bowl of porridge and a glass of water. The glass of water was probably unnecessary but he didn’t need to know that. Muichirou turned his head and looked at you as you carefully set the tray containing his breakfast on the floor. “I thought you left the estate.” You definitely took a while to prepare his breakfast then.

  “I considered it for a while but that would be too cruel.” You scooped a small portion of the porridge and blew on it lightly. “Say ‘ahh’.” Muichirou opened up his mouth and swallowed. You were fist pumping in your mind, he did not resist!  Repeating your actions, you smiled at him. He swallowed the food again but decided to object to your help again, “I can feed myself.” Ignoring his protest, you continued feeding him. “Perhaps, but you were also the one who insisted on training under the rain.” Muichirou looked away.

  Once you were done feeding him, you grinned, proud that he didn’t get poisoned and willingly accepted your help. Drenching and twisting his towel, you folded it neatly and placed it on his forehead like before. Picking up the tray, you smiled at him and got up. “Alright so like I said before, just let me know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll check up on you every once in a while.” Inhaling a deep breath, you cheered yourself on. Taking care of sick patients scares you. It always feels as if their future depended on your every move and decision. Sliding his door open, you left and slid it shut.

  Now alone in his room, Muichirou turned to look at the closed door. He really shouldn’t remain idle and get up and start training. He really shouldn’t let this fever of his deter him from his duty. He really shouldn’t enjoy you caring for him as much as he does. And yet he remained as he was. Muichirou tried reasoning with himself. He couldn’t quite remember when he started feeling unwell, perhaps he had been pushing himself for more than a week and yesterday was his last straw. Thinking back to when you had asked if he was sick, he remembered feeling a little shock. Used to ignoring his symptoms, he had forgotten that he was sick. How did you know though? He was sure after numerous times of pushing himself to his limit even when sick, his body had started to give up in showing signs of sickness.

  Perhaps the Butterfly Hashira would have been able to tell since she was an expert in the field of medicine and doubled as a doctor. But you clearly had trouble caring for the sick so how was it that you were able to notice? He couldn’t recall much but he was sure that you were already aware of his illness when it started and chose to not comment on it. He recalled feeling your questioning stares and observing looks, your concern written clearly in your expressions. Your absence left his room so silent, allowing him to lose himself in drifting from thought to thought.

  His door slid open. Muichirou turned to look at and saw you standing there, holding a letter. “Helloo, how are you feeling? I just received Kochou-sama’s response, she said that it might just be a bad cold and resting for the rest of the day and drinking warm water would help! Look, she even wrote a short and quick recipe since I said I sucked at cooking for stubborn patients!” You grin at him. Muichirou stared at you silently, not sure why you were so cheery all the time. “She said that I did good in caring for you and drew a smiley-face!” Pointing at the corner of the letter, you waited for a reaction from him. Receiving none, you whined exaggeratedly, “Not that I agree, but I can see why people call me a stubborn idiot who enjoys torture. Your silent treatments are killing me. One day, I’ll tell Oyakata-sama that you keep bullying me and ask to be Kanroji-san’s Tsukugo.” You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him.

  “Who called you a stubborn idiot?” That was not the response you were expecting. Tilting your head to the side, you looked up as you tried to recall the mean comments you constantly overheard. “I’m not sure. It’s mostly just overheard gossip but there’s always this weird girl with like, blue pigtails and red eyes that keeps giving me dirty looks. I think she’s just jealous because she’s always saying how if she was my rank she would apply to be your Tsukugo and kick me out.” Snorting at the ridiculousness of it all, you laughed. “You would like that wouldn’t you? I think she has a crush on you and would totally do whatever you wanted and not laugh at you.”

  “No. She sounds like someone who wouldn’t work hard. You’re annoying but you’re hardworking.” Ignoring the insult, you focused on his compliment. His first ever compliment to you. “Aww, I didn’t know you could be so sweet. You should get sick more often and maybe you would be more charming!” Muichirou looked at you plainly, unimpressed. “I’m a Hashira. My job is to kill demons and train you, not be charming.” Waving your hand, you rolled your eyes and smiled. “I know, I know. I was just kidding. Don’t worry, I respect your determination. It’s honestly impressive.” Not responding, Muichirou turned away.

  Assuming that meant that your one-sided conservation was over, you got ready to leave his room again. Hearing you getting up, Muichirou turned back and looked at you. “Wait. Don’t go yet.” You turned back and looked at him confused. He wasn’t sure what to say, he didn’t mean to call for you. “... You haven't changed my towel yet.” An unimpressed look crossed your face as you wet his towel and placed it on his forehead.

  Relishing the way your cool palm would brush his fringe away and place the cool, folded towel on his forehead, Muichirou blurted again, “Thank you, I like the way you care for me.” Your hand froze and you stared at him. Pinching his cheeks, you looked at him seriously. “Who is this and what have you done to my master?” Pushing your hands away, Muichirou glared at you. “Stop it, I didn’t mean to say that.” You raised your eyebrows but decided not to say anything else.

  The moment you closed the door, Muichirou allowed himself to cringe at his earlier behaviour. It wasn’t like him to be so… sentimental. This illness and your concern was really getting to him. And yet despite everything he told himself, he couldn’t wait for you to come back to check up on him again. 

Bonus: A few weeks after his recovery, Muichirou was walking back to the Mist Estate when he heard someone calling his name. It was a stranger. She waved her hands wildly and ran up to him. “Oh my gosh! Are you Tokito Muichirou, the Mist Hashira? I’m Yua and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” The girl’s blue pigtails bounced and her red eyes shone as she reached excitedly to grasp Muichirou’s hands. With a look of disgust, Muichirou took a stride back and extracted his sword, pointing it at Yua. “Don’t touch me, you low rank. Just by looking at you, I can tell that you don’t even deserve to gossip about others.” He paused. “Much less ones who deserve the titles they earned with their own hard work.” Not willing to spend anymore time with Yua, Muichirou turned away and walked off. Gossiping about others? How did he know that that girl, who’s name he has already forgotten, had gossiped about his Tsukugo? He heard a faint voice in his head and a blurry image appeared in his mind – You were gently dabbing his face with a cool cloth as your hand caressed his face. You were quietly whispering to yourself, “Sometimes I wonder if I deserve to be your Tsukugo. Maybe others are right and I’m just wasting your time. But looking at how angelic you look, how can I bear to leave you?” He wasn’t quite sure if that was a fever dream or how he even remembered but he felt his cheeks heating up.

a/n: sobbing, i tried my best but it wasnt as cute as i wanted it to be!! i tried my best to not make mui ooc but at the same time making the scenes cute but i think i just spent too much time on their banter and unnecessary stuff and not enough on you caring for a sick muichirou :'( + i think many stuff are probably incorrect and i want to yeet myself now im so sorry oml

[somerandomdudelmao]

i was writing this all out in the tags of one of your recent updates (part 9 of 'donatello') when i realized i might as well just send it to you directly before i hit tag limit. (i hope you don't mind haha) this recent comic really reminded me of a concept that i've seen in your work that i haven't seen commented on a lot (though i could be wrong.)

casey jr and donatello's relationship as you've portrayed it is interesting in a number of ways. one i've been thinking about recently is the aspect of physical touch, and how you use that to represent the underlying themes/ideas behind their dynamic (and the story as a whole).

in the series, donnie is generally the least physical of his brothers, in that he prefers to be the one to initiate contact. (as a fellow autistic, i relate to this on a visceral level /lighthearted.) however, in your portrayal, this rule bends for casey's sake.

you've been setting up casey to follow in donatello's metaphorical footsteps for a while now, with this coming to fruition (to an extent) in recent storylines.

but going back a bit further. there's this major theme of... i guess i would call it 'responsibility?' that has been weaved through the story from... basically, day one.

in the first comic, his conversation with f!leo following leo's brief foray as a nugget (one of my favorite lines from this series overall is "...and leo-nugget." amazing, genuinely), casey admits to him that it was scary being responsible for someone that could get hurt so easily.

in one of the following chapters, we see the question asked: 'but who is there to save you?' (this chapter being a bit of a microcosm of the theme/story as a whole haha.)

though it was a chapter i had originally assumed was just for funsies and angst opportunities, i now realize i was wrong (though, i don't know exactly how intentional you were being with all of this, so i could be missing the mark here.) it actually sets up his arc rather nicely -- with casey being the one to save donatello when he was injured/knocked unconcious.

now, bringing this all back around to the original intent of this ask: how physical touch is used to represent their narrative dynamic (is that a thing? 'narrative dynamic'? am i just making shit up right now? whatever its fine /rehtorical)

taking everything in account, i want to return to a specific moment that really struck me in the comics leading up to donatello's death. it's the time where the resistance is being attacked, and donnie, despite being sick, goes out and uhhh... extirpates the problem (its always fun to see donnie go apeshit with dangerous weaponry /positive.)

during his dramatic reveal and attack, casey is by his side, clutching onto him not to cling, but to physically support him (at least, that's how i think that moment was supposed to be interpreted? i could be totally wrong here.)

i can't help but feel this is emblematic of the larger themes at play here-- i.e., casey's arc in relation to donatello.

i can't help but find it interesting how donatello, backbone of the resistance--

(despite his soft shell... which is why him no longer wearing his battle shell when he got sick was actually symbolic foreshadowing of-- *sound of gunshots*)

[editors note: i'm gonna stop myself right there, before this goes from ungodly long to "will break your dash and ask box if allowed to continue further"]

-- and certified plot mechanic (oh, so that's why he named it convenient plot-twist serum... finally, the mystery has been solved /joking /lighthearted), who is a very independent/self-sufficient character, allows casey jr to subvert his rules with casual touch. enough so, that when he is so weak that he can barely stand, he trusts casey jr to keep him upright.

out of everyone, he trusts casey.

casey jr, who, at the very beginning of the comic, saved donatello's life, physically carrying him back to the base. and casey jr, the one who, now, has rescued donatello from a fate worse than death, only to once again bring him back to safety.

(...can you tell i'm a little bit obsessed with your comic? lmao)

[also to note those most recent panels: a return to the "norm," with casey clinging to donatello's side, also providing a nice parallel. i know it's because he is very much reunited with his uncle who has been dead for two years, but c'mon. let me have this /joking.)]

anyway, i hope this made sense, and if you did manage to get through my pretentious (and probably somewhat far-fetched) rambles about the "symbolic narrative significance of touch" in a fanwork about the teenage mutant ninja turtles (/lighthearted), may i just say: i am in love with your work, and can only aspire to tell a story as engaging, heartfelt, and clever as the one you have woven.

you are a blessing to this fandom, and i am so excited to see where you go with this story.

I have to say that I didn't specifically do the mental planning for all of this. Most of this theme is simply because I do what I feel will be right. It's more of an intuitive desire than a prescribed plan, so it was pretty surprising to me to see this thought actually being formulated haha

Thank you:>

[cosmolog]

Miguel's Secret

Miles and Gwen venture into a large storage room in the spider society, finding secrets long hidden from the rest of the society by Miguel.

Enjoy!

"We shouldn't be back here. I already made a bad first impression with Miguel back there and now he's gonna want to actually kill me. Who knows? Maybe he'll throw a chair at me next time instead of food-"

"Shh" Gwen silenced him, before glancing around and shining her phone light on the various boxes that had been discarded in the room.

Her light settled on the end of the room, where a curtain had been hung from the ceiling and drawn closed, as if to hide something. She started walking towards it, only for Miles to catch a grip of her wrist.

"Miles, let go" She huffed in annoyance at her friend's protectiveness.

"What if it's something you really don't want to see?" He said, looking concerned.

"It won't be. It'll probably just be some more boxes. I wanna check though." She replied. Miles' eyes flickered between the white curtain sheet and Gwen before he sighed deeply and let go of her. He remained close behind her as she advanced to the curtains.

Gwen took a deep breath, held it, then pulled the curtain back, revealing a woman lying down on an examination table. Upon further inspection, the two realised she wasn't a human but a very realistic-looking robot, judging by the red ring on the side of her head.

Miles let out a profanity while Gwen gasped in freight. "Okay, not a dead body but still just as creepy" He whispered.

Gwen stepped closer to the robot, pressing the red ring which changed to blue, and the robot woke up...

(Switch to first person)

My eyes gently opened at the sound of voices. Two young voices, one male, one female. Both sounded scared. I slowly moved my head in their direction. I looked between the two teens, not recognising their faces. I gently sat up, after not moving in so long, I felt stiff. By now, the teenagers were less scared and more defensive.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The boy asked.

I gave him a kind and gentle smile. "I am Y/n. And you?"

"Miles"

"Gwen" The girl added.

I got off the table and looked around the dark area. "Where...where am I?"

Gwen and Miles looked at each other to exchange looks only they understood. Gwen answered me.

"You're in the Spider Society's basement, or should I say the storage room"

I grew sad. Where was I locked inside the storage room. And then the last moments of my last encounter of seeing light came back to me. I could still remember every detail of his face, my creator, Miguel O'Hara. "Miguel..." I whispered to myself, but Gwen and Miles heard me.

"You know Miguel?" Gwen asked.

"Why, of course. I was his Ai after all" I smiled sadly.

"A second Ai of Miguel's?" Miles tilted his head.

"I was Miguel's first Ai assistant, just before he made Lyla. The only reason he never mentions me is because I had a defect. Or, at least, that's what he called it. Miguel had programmed me to do a number of things, which involved making him breakfast and helping him with his work. He had made me a physical body, which looked so human sometimes it even tricked him. I would end up having to remind him I wasn't a real person." I sighed and looked down at my hands as I continued.

"My defect seemed to be a certain emotion. The first time I had ever displayed it, was the last because Miguel immediately stopped me and told me to sit down in the examination chair so he could check everything was alright. He told me to close my eyes and now I'm here. It seems he had shut me down for a while. Ever since I've been shut down, I've been searching for a reason as to why he would shut me down but-"

"He thought you fell in love with him" Gwen stated.

I looked up at her surprised. "What?" I whispered.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Gwen pressed.

"Gwen, I don't think you should be nailing her with questions like this" Miles said, looking worried.

"No, we need to know"

"We really don't"

"You love him" Gwen ignored Miles, stepping closer to me causing me to step back.

"I.."

"Gwen, stop it"

"Your hesitation just confirms it. You fell in love and he killed you for it" Gwen stated.

"Gwen!" Miles scolded, not believing she had just said that.

I looked down solemnly. "Death is never our own decision" I said.

"You poor AI" Gwen sighed, turning to Miles. "Does Miguel know she's awake?"

"Let's hope not."

Part Two