#much to the Emperor's chagrin

[jeeaark]

I bet Emperor praised 'Us' after the fight when he could hear us again... in this very "That's my brain baby !" Way too XD

[plutotheplum]

The First Fall of Snow

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 2!

summary: the emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, breast play, masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of exhibitionism, virginity loss

wc: 7.7k

a/n: i did imagine long-haired zayne for this (like his master of fate card!) and he just gives off emperor vibes soooo

also on ao3!

The Emperor was a peculiar man. 

He was not a man who fancied company. When the years for marriage had passed, his royal advisors had grown increasingly anxious. All potential candidates were refused, princesses from far lands given profuse apologies and lavish gifts in hopes of quelling their anger after they had traveled such vast distances, only for the Emperor to turn them away. 

In an effort to try and draw out the Emperor’s romantic and sexual nature, several concubines were gathered. The Emperor had never overseen this, the affair carried out in veiled whispers as his advisors had sought to dispel their desperation by pooling their efforts into securing an heir for the dynasty. 

That was what you were told when you arrived in the palace anyways. It had been a year since you were hand-picked as a concubine, along with a few other girls who had been eager to accept when the opportunity had been provided to them.

You had only met the Emperor a handful of times, when you first been brought to the palace and during private meetings that had been scheduled. He had never touched you or any of the other girls, had never sought after pleasure or secured an heir, much to the chagrin of Imperial staff. Like any other person, you thought it was odd. 

Part of you felt as though you were wasting away in this palace, days spent outside by the pretty gardens and overlooking the fish in the ponds, entertaining stray cats or inside, like you were now.

You stare down at the steaming water in the teapot, watching as the tea leaves stain the water. The blurry reflection of your face looks back up at you and there’s a soft sigh escaping you, wondering what might’ve been if you hadn’t been chosen.

Such thoughts are lost when a short, stout man comes hobbling in. He grabs at your arm, teacup filled with hot tea tipping to the side. You wince when the hot liquid lands against your skin, burning you.

“The Emperor needs tea,” the eunuch hisses, pulling another set of teaware from the shelves as he tugs you closer.

“Why does that involve me?,” you ask, trying to free yourself so you can soothe your irritated skin under cool water.

“You will deliver it to him,” he says, fiddling with your robes and straightening out the fabric to make you look more presentable.

“Have another one of the girls-” you begin to complain, shrinking away when he sends you a glare.

You huff out a breath, making sure the pin in your hair is in place. There’s no time to tend to the burn on your forearm, the reddened skin hidden by the sleeves of your robes as the eunuch passes you the tray. 

Sending him a glare of your own, you don’t stay behind to be chastised. Feet padding against the floor, you pass through the courtyard and hallway. Imperial guards stand outside the Emperor’s quarters and you bow your head, stating your business. 

One of the guards opens the doors and you suck in a sharp breath, gathering your confidence as you step inside the Emperor’s quarters. 

It’s a familiar place. The room is large, scrolls stacked upon shelves tucked against the walls, decorative screens partitioning the entrance to where his bed was placed. You swallow nervously, eyes blinking about. You can’t seem to find the Emperor. Deciding to step forward, you’re pushing your luck, sticking your head outside the open doors at the other end of his quarters. It opens into a private courtyard, greenery pruned to perfection.

There’s a frown pulling at your lips when you can’t see him. Perhaps he had left? Just as you’re about to give up, a man clears his throat. You jolt in place, tea sloshing as you struggle to keep a hold on the tray. Whirling around, you find the Emperor standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. There’s a curse entering your mind, placing the tea tray down on a table nearby before your knees are bending, meeting the floor as you bow in a seated position.

“Please forgive me, your majesty” you breathe out, eyes squeezing shut. 

You would rather not feel the wrath of the Emperor.

“I did not ask for tea,” he says bluntly.

“The- the eunuch insisted,” you supply lamely.

The Emperor only sighs and your eyes are peeking open, head tilting slightly as you try to get a glimpse of his expression. 

“You may stand,” he murmurs, waving his hand. You do as he says, stumbling to your feet, teeth gritting together when the cloth of your robes rubs against the still fresh burn on your forearm.

He takes a seat on a cushioned mat and you’re standing awkwardly, trying to taper down your fidgeting as the pain flares up again.

“Is something the matter?” the Emperor asks when he sees your inability to stand still. 

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. The Emperor only stares at you, unimpressed. His gaze drags over you and your cheeks are flushing in embarrassment. 

“Sit,” he says suddenly, pointing to the space across from him.

“I-” you begin to refuse, restless to get out of this stifling place and tend to the burn that was currently beginning to sting.

“Sit, or will you refuse an Imperial command?”

To refuse an Imperial command is to forfeit one’s life. It’s why you’re sitting down in a flurry and looking everywhere at everything except him. 

“Arm,” he murmurs, holding his hand out.

You extend your arm towards his hand without question. He hums when he brushes the sleeves away, moving your arm closer to his eyes so he can examine the burn. The Emperor’s lithe fingers prod at the edges of your reddened skin, and a whimper slips out of you, the tender skin sensitive.

He pulls away from you and your eyes are darting towards the doors, wondering whether it would be worth it to make a break for it. The Emperor returns soon after, a small pot in his hand, containing some sort of salve.

“Your majesty, it is beneath you to tend to such a matter,” you remind him, feeling his cool fingers wrap around your arm again.

“Perhaps so, but I happen to take interest in the ailments of the body,” he replies, spreading the salve against your skin.

So the rumors were true then. Many spoke of the Emperor’s affinity for the study of medicine. You had assumed he would’ve taken more interest in other pursuits such as hunting, but it appeared the Emperor valued intellect above all else. 

As the salve soothes your skin, you find your gaze slipping over him. Pale skin, intelligent eyes framed by dark eyelashes, a strong nose and long hair tied back neatly, there was no doubt that the Emperor was a handsome man. 

His eyes flick up to meet yours, his own gaze dipping over you once again. You feel as though you’re being scrutinized, so you’re sitting up straighter, trying to not present yourself as a mess.

“He sent you here to entice me,” the Emperor explains, beginning to wrap your wound using a thin, silken cloth.

“Oh. Is- is it working?” you ask tentatively.

“If you consider making a fool of yourself enticing, then maybe so,” he says, the side of his mouth curling up as amusement flashes through his eyes.

There’s a sharp scoff leaving you, arm tugging free from his grasp. The bandages are tight around your arm and you send him a frown, placing your hands in your lap.

“You take liberties that others do not,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I apologize, your majesty,” you whisper, head hanging low. He was right, you were taking liberties. 

“Zayne,” he says, opening a scroll.

“Your- your majesty?” you reply, confusion flitting across your face.

“Zayne,” he repeats, not bothering to even spare you a glance “you may address me by my name.”

You hold your tongue in return, eyes narrowing as you stare at the Emperor. It must be a trick of some sort, you think, a ploy to make you slip up, and just like the traitors of the Empire, your head would be severed from your neck. 

“You would distrust my own command?” he asks, sensing your hesitation. “I never said such a thing!” you protest, exasperation spreading across your face.

Sitting in place, you pout to yourself, tracing random shapes onto the cushioned mat. Zayne ignores your presence and it has you fidgeting even more, a huff of air leaving you. 

The Emperor only continues to read the scroll in his hands. Pouring out some tea, you decide to indulge yourself. Your face contorts when you taste the now lukewarm liquid. It’s hardly enjoyable. Letting out another deep sigh, your body sags. There’s nothing for you to do here, the Emperor won’t carry a conversation and you only find that you’re making a fool of yourself even more.

“Shall I leave?” you ask him, feeling hopeful that you might be able to escape.

Zayne shakes his head. 

“Stay a little while. It would do good for my advisors to think they have succeeded.”

“Succeeded?” you echo, brows furrowing.

“They expect an heir,” he sighs, setting down the scroll to give you his full attention, “surely you are aware of my… aversion to the entire matter.”

“I cannot say I understand,” you murmur, “you need an heir, and an illegitimate heir is an heir nonetheless.”

“The duty will be fulfilled when I am ready,” he says firmly.

Your head tilts at that, eyes narrowing. When he was ready? There would be no reason for the Emperor to not be ready.

“Other noblemen take pleasure in using women’s bodies,” you mutter, peering over at him, “it is strange that you have not yet touched any one of us.”

“You wish for me to use you?” Zayne asks, raising his brows. 

“N- no! I just meant, it is odd that an Emperor whose rule has granted him anything he may possibly desire chooses not to engage in anything,” the words come out of you in a rush, your cheeks flushing. 

“And have you engaged in anything?” he shoots back, his eyes sharp.

Admitting your own virginity wasn’t on your plan of things to do today. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, eyes averted to the side. Your silence is answer enough, and Zayne sighs, his fingers rubbing at his temples.

“I did not ask for concubines,” he says quietly, “and so, I do not expect you to serve me in such a fashion.”

“You may leave,” he says after a few moments, standing up with you.

Your head tilts, teeth worrying into your lower lip as he stares down at you.

“It appears you care for me,” he murmurs, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your heart flutters at the unexpected action, eyes widening when he touches you.

“Only for the dynasty,” you breathe out.

Zayne lets out a low laugh at that. He gives you a faint smile and your heart stutters in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man look so ethereal, but such is the favor of the gods.

It’s probably why you’re leaning forward, hands reaching to fix the crumpled collar of his silk robes. He stiffens under your touch and you pretend as though you don’t notice. Your fingers graze his skin and his hand curls around your wrist, stopping your movements.

“I shall expect you here in a week’s time,” he says.

“A week’s time,” you nod, feeling his fingers touch the cloth wrapped around your burn.

The Emperor lowers his head, his fingers gripping your chin gently so he can stare into your eyes more intently. He seems lost in thought as he swipes his thumb over your chin, his head nearing until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

It’s almost too much for your racing heart. Your already half-lidded eyes are slipping shut, lips parting as you lean in closer, waiting for him to kiss you. But it never comes and your eyes flutter open to see Zayne staring down at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes. He was making a fool of you yet again. 

To preserve whatever dignity you have left, you’re pulling away, freeing yourself from his suffocating grasp. Bowing in deference, you don’t look back to see his expression, pushing past the doors as you leave his quarters.

Almost immediately, you’re met with the eunuch from earlier.

“Well?” he asks, his cheeks puffed with exertion as he tries to keep up with the pace you’ve set in an attempt to escape questioning.

“Nothing happened,” you reply curtly, looking back to see the short man totter after you.

“Nothing?” he repeats, voice laced with irritation, “not even-“ his voice lowers, mindful of the other staff working in the palace, “he did not even touch you?” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t need to know that the Emperor had indeed touched you; tended to your burn even, that you were hoping the Emperor would hold you close and kiss you, and he most certainly didn’t need to know about your little displays of insolence. 

The eunuch soon loses interest in you, grumbling curses under his breath as you retire to your own chambers shared with the other girls. It’s no secret that many of them have become bored with the Emperor’s apathetic outlook, some turning their charms to try and garner the affections of noblemen at court.

-

It’s raining the day you’re meant to meet the Emperor. 

You step inside his chambers when the guards permit you, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Your majesty” you bend at the waist, bowing.

Zayne hums in response, striding closer to you. His fingers lift your arm, undoing the gauze to uncover your injury. The salve he had applied to your skin had soothed the burn, and it had begun to heal nicely. 

“I told you to address me by my name,” he reminds you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he examines your skin, “must I remind you again, or will phrasing it as an Imperial command suffice?”

Your mouth opens automatically to retort sharply. He looks at you, brows raised. Spending more time in his presence has only vexed you, irritation making you almost forget who you were with. Mouth clamping shut, you send him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Forgive me,” you say begrudgingly, “Zayne.”

“Better,” he murmurs.

You don’t know whether he’s referring to your obedience or the state of your wound. 

“It will scar,” Zayne continues, turning your arm so that he can see your skin in better light.

“Badly?” you ask, a frown tugging at your lips.

“More salve will lessen the effect,” he says, finally letting go of your arm.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The Emperor stares at you, his gaze unwavering. It has you wishing that you hadn’t listened to his request at all. The palace physician would have more than likely provided you with the necessary treatment, and yet here you were, being tended to by the Emperor of all people.

“Do you wish for me to repay you?” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Did we not already have this conversation?” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I had assumed-”

“Do not assume anything.”

Zayne’s voice has hardened, the slight softness in his eyes no longer present. You’ve overstepped. He pulls away from you, turning his back to you as he walks towards the open doors of his quarters. Rain wets the inside, the mats on the floor darkening but the Emperor doesn’t seem to care.

Feeling like a scolded child, you trail after him.

“Forgive me,” you whisper, keeping your gaze trained on the floor.

It seems to be all that you’re doing now. Apology after apology after apology. It’s a miracle you haven’t yet been executed for your impertinence. 

He turns to face you, his hand lifting. For a moment you think he’s about to slap you, a grimace settling on your face as you await the stinging punishment. Instead, all you feel is his hand on your head, petting you like you were some sort of unruly cat.

Zayne’s fingers begin to slip and you can feel the soft tips of his fingers graze the side of your face, traveling lower as he traces your jawline. You hold still, eyes wide with anticipation. He doesn’t stop, his fingers dragging down the length of your neck, parting your robes until you feel his fingers swipe across your collarbone. 

“You are stubborn,” he says softly, “steadfast and oddly endearing. Perhaps I should keep you by my side.”

You stare up at him, jaw slackening, baffled. 

“I thought you would appreciate it,” he murmurs, the sharpness in his eyes returning, “just moments ago you were offering yourself to me.”

It’s a struggle to bite back the whimper that so eagerly wants to escape when his fingers drag lower, skimming across the soft skin of the tops of your breasts. His other hand plays with the knot tied at the side, nimble fingers untying the only thing keeping your robes together. The soft fabric slips from your shoulders and you find yourself in front of the Emperor, breasts bared.

He lets out a low hum, both of his hands coming to cup your breasts. Your teeth have been biting into your lip so hard that you can taste the tang of blood on your tongue. Zayne swipes his thumbs over your nipples and you find yourself unable to rip free from his wandering touch. 

“Should you not tell me to stop?” the Emperor asks, his face nearing yours.

There’s no will left in you to answer, a sharp gasp escaping you when he pinches your nipples to punctuate his question. The sensation only adds to the wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Please,” you whimper, the desperation clear in your eyes, “please, Zayne.”

“I may have the favor of the gods, but I cannot foresee your desires,” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours, “tell me. What is it you want?”

“Kiss,” you manage out, “kiss me, please.”

The Emperor’s hands haven’t stopped their exploration, squeezing and groping at your breasts. Zayne lowers his head, forehead pressing against yours as you mewl and whimper under the onslaught of his caressing touches. The ache between your thighs has become unbearable with the way he plays with your nipples. He tugs and pinches, thumbs swiping over your areolas to grant you reprieve before rolling your nipples between his fingers again. 

“Wantonness has made you far more polite,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours.

It’s not a kiss, and you’re squirming in frustration with the way the Emperor is stringing you along, driving you to the edge of pleasure and yet refusing to grant you what you desire the most. 

“I- I can be even more polite,” you mumble pathetically, hands curling into his robes.

You chase after his lips, brows furrowing when he draws up to his full height, smiling down at you. Lips jutting out into a pout, you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to tug him back down so you can kiss him. It’s a futile endeavor, the Emperor only manages to evade all of your attempts to draw him into a kiss. 

“I shall look forward to it,” Zayne murmurs, his lips pressing against your forehead gently.

There’s no way to discern what exactly is going through the Emperor’s mind. He no longer continues with his lustful touches, pulling away with a final caress of your breasts as he pulls your loosened robes over your shoulders again. You can only watch with dazed eyes, frozen in place as he helps redo the knot holding your robes together, covering you up properly so that unnecessary slivers of skin aren’t showing anymore. 

“Do you do this with the others?” you ask, eyes finding his.

“Does the thought make you jealous?”

You frown at his retort, sending him a glare, “the Emperor may do as he wishes,” you grumble.

It’s hard to hide the jealousy that underlies your words. You want to be the only person he touches, to be the object of his affections. It’s a selfish desire to want the Emperor to need you only, but you can’t help yourself, envy flaring up inside of you at the thought of him touching another woman the way he touches you. 

“You are the first to elicit such a reaction from me,” Zayne says, his fingers tilting your head so he can stare into your eyes more directly.

Letting out an irritated huff, you feel irked by his subtle way of trying to please you. He doesn’t reply to your display of irritation, nudging his forehead against yours as though trying to convey his affection. 

“Go now,” he whispers, petting your hair again before he’s moving away, turning his back to you as he returns to peer out at the rain that falls outside.

You have half the mind to call him out on his behavior, but the reminder of your position is the stifling reality in which you live in. Despite his gaze elsewhere, you bow to him, turning on your heel to leave.

Thankfully, there are no lurking eunuchs to question your brief stay in the Emperor’s quarters. The palace staff don’t pay you any mind as you return to your chambers, and you explain to the other girls that you feel sick. 

The whimpers that spill from your mouth are muffled by the pillow that you’ve pressed your face into, the fingers of one hand rubbing at your clit and the other hand pinching at your nipples as you try to mimic the way the Emperor had touched you. With the image of Zayne’s face ingrained into your mind, it doesn’t take long, a soft moan escaping into the quiet of your chambers as you come apart on your fingers. 

-

You’re spying on the Emperor. 

The past year had been plenty of time to explore the palace and figure out the little passageways that weren’t well known. Perhaps you were just as bad as his advisors that were intent on prying into Zayne’s private life, but you just couldn’t help yourself. 

It’s why you’re here now, hovering outside his quarters, pretending to take great interest in the portraits that line the halls. Every now and then, your eyes flick over to where the guards stand, trying to discern whether anyone was entering or leaving his chambers. 

You almost feel pathetic for acting in such a way, but he was the only thing you could think about. Visiting the gardens had grown dull, despite the leaves turning into pretty shades of orange and red in the autumn air, thoughts of the Emperor taking root in the crevices of your mind instead. 

“My grandfather,” a deep voice breaks through your thoughts. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Handsome,” you mutter, taking a step closer to examine the portrait genuinely this time.

“My guards have complained about a woman hiding in the hallways,” Zayne says, his hand falling onto your shoulder. “I did not realize it was an offense to admire fine art,” you shoot back.

“There are far finer things in this palace,” he murmurs, stepping forward until you’ve been backed up against the wall.

It’s becoming more and more apparent to you that the Emperor must be suffering some sort of illness to the mind. You struggle to come up with a reason as to why his arm curls around your waist, whilst he presses himself closer. 

You try and push at his firm chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“People will see,” you whisper heatedly, eyes darting to the sides despite Zayne being so close that you can hardly see anything but him.

“So let them.”

Zayne reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. You stiffen under the sudden touch, eyes widening when his thumb brushes over your skin.

“Why are you doing this?” you whisper, frowning.

“Is my mind not allowed to change?” he asks in return, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“I am far more concerned that you have lost your mind.”

The Emperor lets out a deep chuckle and you think the air around you both has somehow grown thicker with how lightheaded you’re feeling.

“I assure you, I am still of sound mind.”

His nose brushes against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, nose nudging against his gently. The heat of his body is intoxicating, his arm tightening around your waist as he exhales. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating the feeling of his lips against yours.

It’s not to be, not when an Imperial guard insists on interrupting your moment with the Emperor.

“Is this woman bothering you?” the guard asks, his gaze dragging over you with obvious disregard. 

The utter nerve. Eye twitching, you ready yourself to snap back but Zayne’s squeeze to your waist has you staying silent.

“She was feeling ill,” Zayne lies steadily. 

The Emperor’s mask of cool indifference slips over him easily, his lips pulled thin as he speaks to the guard. 

“I shall escort her to the physician,” the guard offers, his hand reaching for you.

Zayne pulls you out of reach before the guard can touch you, tucking you against his side.

“No need,” Zayne says, “I shall take her myself.”

You can almost hear the nervous gulp that the guard takes, his face paling at the Emperor’s stony disposition. Unfortunately, you don’t get long to revel in the satisfaction that spreads through your body when Zayne reprimands the guard. Zayne tugs you along, his hand wrapped around your wrist. It appears the Emperor knows of the passages as well, and a few twists and turns later you find yourself back in the Emperor’s quarters, having bypassed the Imperial guards.

“Did you see his face?” you snicker, looking over at Zayne.

Your smile fades when he doesn’t reply, the grip on your wrist almost painful without how firmly his hand is still holding onto you.

“Zayne? Are you-”

You nearly trip over your own feet when he suddenly pulls you closer. Zayne’s lips are slotting over yours, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you. There’s a small noise of surprise coming from you, eyes widening before they flutter shut, your body lulled into submission with the feverish kisses Zayne gives you.

He groans into your mouth and you cling to his robes, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kisses better. The Emperor might’ve been starved with the way he’s kissing you, his lips firm and insistent against yours whilst he holds you in place. 

Zayne pulls away after a while, and you’re completely and utterly dazed, chest heaving as soft pants fill the space between you both.

“Will you have me?” he whispers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.

No man has ever spoken such words to you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart clenching uncomfortably in your chest. As the Emperor, he shouldn’t say such a thing. 

“It is beneath you to ask,” you murmur, averting your gaze.

“And yet, I am asking,” Zayne replies, his hands maneuvering your head until you have no choice but to look into his eyes.

Letting out an irritated huff, as though he had somehow inconvenienced you, you lean forward and press a chaste kiss against his lips. You can’t bring yourself to say the words out loud, feeling uncharacteristically shy as you shift on the spot.

“I see.”

Zayne’s surging towards you again, lips crashing onto yours. You whimper, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as you press yourself closer. His arms are wrapping around your waist, keeping you flush against him as he ravages your mouth. His tongue is teasing your lower lip, coaxing it open. You have no choice but to obey, letting out a muffled moan when his tongue slides deeper into your mouth, his hand pulling at the pin holding your hair together. 

You squeak when he picks you up, his lips trailing burning kisses down your neck as he nudges the partition blocking his way to his bed. Zayne undoes the knot holding your robes together before long, your thighs straddling his hips as you sit perched on his lap once he sits down on his bed.

“Have you really never given yourself to anyone?” Zayne asks quietly, his fingers tracing across the soft skin of your shoulders.

You nod, body leaning forward to chase after his touch as his fingers find their way back down to your nipples, rolling the pebbled buds between the pads of his fingers.

“H- have you?” you ask, biting your lip as he presses heated kisses against your collarbone.

He shakes his head, lips drifting lower and lower, until your body twitches as his lips enclose around your nipple. A whimper leaves you, and Zayne grows bolder with his movements, sucking harshly as his tongue swirls around your nipple, flicking the little bud in his mouth.

Your hands have drifted into his hair, pulling free the band that holds his long locks together. His dark hair runs past his shoulders, the strands soft under your touch as you pull at his hair, moaning as he continues his exploration across your chest.

Zayne looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, spit-slick lips dragging across your chest to pepper kisses against your other breast, his mouth enveloping your nipple yet again. He lets out a low groan and you whine, pulling at his robes desperately to pull them off.

“Oh,” you breathe out when he lets you, biting your lip at the sight of his bare chest and abdomen. Your fingers spread across his chest eagerly, mapping out the expanse of his skin. There’s a sly smile spreading across your face when you see his cheeks flush pink as your fingers drag lower, past his navel.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks hoarsely, his head tipping back.

“Should I not?” you whisper, fingers delving lower until you can feel his hardness through his robes.

You rub your hand against the bulge experimentally, eyes lighting up when he lets out a grunt. Face tucking into the crook of his neck, your breasts squished against his chest, you place hungry kisses against his neck, palming at his bulge.

The Emperor tugs at your hair, pulling your head back. You stare up at him, meeting him in the middle when he leans forward, sharing a sloppy kiss. His hands squeeze at your waist and you shift in his lap, letting him undress you completely.

Nervousness flits across your face as he stares at your bare body, hands leaving him to cover yourself up. He grabs your hands before you can, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“You are beautiful,” he whispers, lips drifting to kiss the shell of your ear.

A shy smile pulls at your lips and he squeezes your waist again. Your brows furrow when he jostles you, making you straddle his thigh instead.

“I want to watch,” Zayne says, his fingers dimpling into the fat of your thighs.

“Watch?” you echo, head tilting in question.

“I want to watch you come undone,” he clarifies, gripping your hips as he guides you into grinding against his thigh.

A strangled noise leaves you and he pats your hip, satisfied. You’re so aroused that your slick has begun to wet his silken robes, the fabric darkening as you roll your hips, dragging your pussy against his thigh.

“I- I want to watch you too,” you gasp out.

Zayne obliges and you watch as he pulls his cock free. The sight is almost enough to have you coming on his covered thigh. His fingers wrap around his cock and you whine, hips rolling faster. “Is it to your satisfaction?” he murmurs.

You nod rapidly. It is. You’ve never seen one before, but you just know Zayne’s is pretty compared to the others. His cock is thick, flushed prettily at the tip to match the blush on his cheeks and you lick your lips, wondering what it might feel like in your mouth. 

“Another time,” Zayne says, smiling when he sees the expression on your face.

It’s entrancing to watch the way his hand drags up and down his cock, his long fingers wrapped around himself. Globs of pre-cum bead at the tip, wetting his hands and his cock, creating a sinful sound. Unable to help yourself, you tilt your head, tongue lolling out as you let your own spit drip down onto his cock. You hum in delight when his thighs twitch, your eyes peering into his as you drag your cunt against his thigh, clit catching on the fabric of his robes just right. 

“I did not know my concubine was so depraved,” he murmurs, his hand kneading the flesh at your hip roughly.

You give him a dopey smile, eyes slipping back down to watch his hand move around his cock whilst you rock your hips. Head falling against his shoulder, your lips drag across his chest, landing soft kisses against his skin before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, nipping his skin lightly.

Airy sounds fill the air, his quiet moans and your soft whimpers emanating in his quarters. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press yourself closer, guiding his head into another kiss. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth with no hesitation. Zayne’s pulling apart suddenly, his previous desire of watching you come undone on your thigh forgotten as he manhandles your body, making you lay down against his bed.

The Emperor kisses you over and over, and your head is swirling, trying to keep up whilst his fingers have found their way down to your pussy, rubbing your wetness across the sensitive flesh before he finds your clit. All it takes is one firm press of his thumb, your thighs twitching violently as you grasp at the sheets, moaning loudly as you come. He smiles against your lips, granting you one last kiss before he directs his attention elsewhere, his face disappearing between your thighs.

“Z-Zayne!” you squeal, pushing at his head, trying to get him to stop as the overstimulation becomes too much.

The Emperor ignores you in favor of thumbing apart your folds, his eyes trained on your clit.

“Pretty” he whispers, the pads of his fingers stroking over your clit gently, “and so, so swollen.”

It has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he kisses the inside of your thighs, edging closer to your pussy, letting out a low breath, the air hitting your exposed pussy.

He groans when you tug at his hair, and you writhe, trying to somehow free yourself from the onslaught of his tongue as he laves over your pussy, pressing sloppy kisses against your skin, his lips latching onto your swollen clit. Zayne’s tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, teasing you.

Something between a moan and a scream climbs its way out your throat, the sound ringing in through his chambers as you come again, thighs firmly squeezing his head. Your eyes widen when you realize the guards are still outside the doors, panic flaring through your body as you scramble to sit up.

Zayne’s hand slides over your mouth before you can get anything out, the stern look in his eyes making you go still. The rapping of the guard’s knuckles against the door has you rigid, eyes widening in alarm as he begins to move his tongue yet again. 

You glare at Zayne, tugging at his hair roughly to make it hurt as you attempt to get his mouth off of you. Zayne only gives you a hazy look, looking utterly gone as he presses his face deeper into your cunt. It’s a struggle to keep the noises in, your body shaking as his nose rubs into your clit and his tongue fucks in and out of your aching hole. 

“Your majesty?” An urgent voice calls out from behind the door, and you can hear the faint scuffling noises of the guards’ boots. 

“Someone get this door open!” another voice hisses, the sliding doors rattling soon after.

The Emperor grunts into your cunt, raising up finally. The sight of him is nearly enough to make you come for a third time. Zayne is utterly disheveled, his cheeks pink and the lower half of his face glistening with your slick. 

You watch as he runs his hand through his hair, biting your lip as you let your gaze wander, catching on his cock once again. He looks painfully hard, cum smeared across his skin and drool is pooling in your mouth. Getting onto your knees, you crawl forward eager to envelop it in your mouth.

The tip makes its way into your mouth for a brief moment and you can barely suck when Zayne is yanking you off of his cock, his hand curled into your hair. 

“Everything is fine,” the Emperor snaps, narrowing his eyes when you pout.

“We heard-”

“I said,” Zayne’s voice grows louder, “everything is fine.”

You think he might take out his wrath on you with the way he grips your cheeks roughly, planting another kiss to your lips. He’s manhandling you yet again, pushing at your shoulders to make you lie down as he settles his hips between your thighs.

Zayne’s cum smears against your skin and you whimper when the fat tip of his cock nudges against your clit. He lands a gentler kiss to your cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as you squirm under him, whimpering as he grinds his cock against your cunt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he lets his cock slide up and down against your folds, “my good girl.”

“Yours,” you agree, cheek squishing against the pillow, “all yours.”

“I want to see you like this all the time,” Zayne confesses, his hand grasping his cock to press it firmly against your cunt, coating it with your arousal, “all flustered and needy… perhaps I am losing my sanity.”

You need him inside of you. The emptiness in your pussy has made you all too aware, hips bucking with every drag of his heavy cock.

“More,” you whisper, voice slurring, “Zayne, I want more.”

Zayne draws back slightly and you watch as he squeezes his cock, pre-cum dripping steadily onto your thigh. He reaches for your hand, fingers lacing with yours.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

You nod, swallowing down your nervousness. He presses his cock into your hole and the stretch is uncomfortable, a pained whimper leaving you as Zayne guides his cock into you. 

“A little more,” he coaxes, kissing your forehead to try and distract you from the initial stretch.

He finally pushes his entire cock in, and you feel as though the air has been punched out of your lungs. Zayne fills you up so perfectly, his cock snug inside your cunt, the emptiness from earlier disappearing almost immediately.

It appears you have affected him just as much, his eyes squeezed shut as he pants into the crook of your neck, trying to get used to the wet heat of your cunt. 

“Perfect,” he mutters mindlessly, and you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside of you, “so- so perfect and warm and tight.”

A hazy smile drifts across your face, legs locking tighter around his hips as your pussy clenches around him.

Zayne lets out a ragged gasp, and you know he can feel it. His eyes bore into yours, brows pulled together in annoyance at your little tease.

“Little minx,” he hisses.

It’s you that gasping this time when he draws his hips back, nails clawing at his back as he thrusts into you. His cock is stretching you out, over and over, as he tries to press it in deeper, trying to carve a path from your pussy to your heart.

“Too- too much!” you wail, arms wrapping around his neck to cling onto him.

“Do you want the guards to hear?” Zayne murmurs against your ear, his hips slowing slightly.

Through the haze of it all, your head turns, eyes finding his. The truth is, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to the idea. Zayne can see the flash of interest in your eyes and he lets out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

“I should have taken you sooner,” he mutters, his fingers squeezing at your hips, “kept you close to me from the beginning.”

You preen at the thought, pressing sloppy kisses against his jaw, feeling his cock drag in and out of you.

“Next time, I shall take you on my throne.”

Your movements pause, eyes widening as he whispers those words, his lips brushing across yours.

“Not like that-” you begin to say, cheeks flushing deeper as you imagine him taking you on his throne, his hips rutting into yours like they were now.

“Why not?” he asks, “Shall I command it? Have-” Zayne lets out a shuddering breath “have my entire court watch as my pretty, little concubine loses her mind, drunk on my cock as I claim her atop my throne?”

You moan unabashedly, cunt clenching around him tightly. Zayne grunts, his hips stuttering when at the feeling of your walls tightening before he’s gripping your thigh, his chest flush against yours as he picks up the pace. It’s no secret that the guards must have heard what was happening inside, your loud moans most likely drifting through the wood of the doors. Both you and the Emperor don’t seem to care, lost in the blur of lust that swirls between you both.

“Deeper,” you mumble, pouting up at him, “need- need you closer, Zayne.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Zayne mutters, dropping his weight on top of you.

You mewl in delight, the feeling of his body against yours deliciously warm. He hikes your thighs up a little higher, hips pressing deeper until you gasp. You can feel his balls pressed snugly against your ass, his cock as deep inside of you as it could go.

“Take it,” he whispers, his hand beginning to stroke your hair as he moves his hips. Short, sharp thrusts that serve to bury his cock into your cunt the way you want, “take it, my love.”

My love. Skin against skin. His hand stroking your hair gently. Girthy cock filling you up perfectly.

The sensations mixed with his affection are too much, pulling at your heart uncomfortably until you let out a sniffle, staring up at him with glassy eyes.

Concern passes through his eyes when he hears you sniffle, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes away a stray tear that beads at the corner of your eye.

“Am I hurting you?” Zayne asks softly.

You shake your head, lips trembling even more at his display of concern. 

“I just like you a lot is all,” you whisper, sniffling quietly.

“I like you too,” Zayne replies in kind, his lips pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “and I take care of what’s mine.”

He leans down, lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss. Your tears wet his cheeks as he keeps you there, kissing you gently whilst his hips roll into you.

“Let go for me, my love” he murmurs, and you’re clenching around him again, feeling his hand sneak its way between your bodies as his thumb rubs against your clit.

You whimper, head pressing back as you arch your back, the sensation of his cock and his fingers driving you further and further to the edge until he latches his mouth onto your breast, catching your nipple between his teeth. He bites down and a broken moan fills the air, body shuddering as you come on his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Zayne grits out when he feels the harsh clench of your cunt around his cock.

You can feel him bury his face into your chest and you reach up weakly, running your fingers through his hair. It’s enough to have him letting out a guttural noise against your chest, his fat cock twitching as his thick cum floods your pussy.

The Emperor lays on top of you, both of your bodies loosened completely. You whimper when he pulls out of you, his cum beginning to leak out from your cunt. Zayne stares at the sight for a moment, entranced, before pulling you closer, letting you press your face into his chest as he kisses your forehead. 

“Everyone will know by now,” you whisper.

“They will,” he agrees, his fingers prying your face away from where it hides.

Zayne peers down into your eyes, a faint smile playing across his lips as he swipes his thumbs against your skin.

“Stay here with me,” he says quietly, “by my side.”

You laugh softly at his proposition.

“I am your concubine,” you murmur, reaching up to curl your hand around his wrist, “nothing more.”

“You will be more,” Zayne insists, his voice hardening,  “I will have you.”

“Your advisors would not allow it!” you protest, eyes turning glassy again.

“Desperation will make them vulnerable to acceptance,” he retorts, his body pressing closer as though to keep you tethered to him, hands tightening around your cheeks.

“I am the Emperor,” he continues, forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours, “you said it yourself. I may do as I wish, and what I wish for is for you to be by my side.”

You swallow harshly, blinking up at him when you hear the sternness of his voice. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, kissing you desperately.

“Stay with me, my love” he whispers again, stealing kiss after kiss from you.

“Okay,” you relent, sinking into his embrace and returning his kisses just as desperately, “okay.”

The Emperor holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The heat of his body has your eyes drooping shut, his lips brushing over your forehead as he whispers sweet promises of his love.

Outside, far away from the warmth of love’s embrace, the first fall of snow has begun to drift from the sky.

[evermore-grimoire]

The Evermore Grimoire: Princesses

Mulan is the strong-willed and tenacious daughter of a war veteran. As the standard of the period, Mulan is urged to uphold her family honour by adhering to the status quo set for women of the time. However, she is presented as an outcast. She is also clumsy and seeks to finish her household chores by inventing contraptions to do the work in her place (much to the chagrin of her father). The driving force of Mulan's journey is the love she has for her father. When her father is drafted to serve in the Emperor's army to defend China from Shan Yu, Mulan steals his orders and reports to the camp in his place to protect him (under the disguise of a soldier named Ping) as well as to satisfy her desire to prove her own self-worth. To begin with she was seen having difficulties with self-confidence due to society's mistreatment towards her and the pressures of the society into which she was born into - particularly in the lives of women. Eventually Mulan's personality shifts. She proves to be fierce, both physically and mentally, as well as self-reliant, impressionable, and persistent. Mulan is actually inspired by the legendary Hua Mulan. 

artwork by Dim Draws

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Treasure: Part 2

AN: I hope you guys like part 2 as much as part 1! Unfortunately I think I have the Stephen King curse and can't finish a story haha

Part One

It had not even been a few months since Geta had claimed you as his own, you shared his bed most nights but he let you roam the palace as you wished. You were treat like royalty as nobody else was allowed to touch you, a stipulation he brought in not long after you were brought before him. He had ordered the servants to decorate your arms in an intricate gold paint design every morning. It would complement his armour at the least but show that you belonged to him to anyone who saw you. The design served to show that you were to remain untouchable, a mental image that would drive Geta feral most days, knowing that you were his and his alone, only he could touch your precious skin and devour you. A thought that would flood his mind in many meetings he attended, much to the chagrin of his brother who wanted him present and ready, he didn't want to rule with him but he didn't want him pussy drunk on some woman of no consequence.

Every morning your arms were adorned with an intricate golden design, and most nights you came back to your quarters after your visit with him, your body paint now smudged within an inch of its life. Your maids always used to chuckle privately about the Emperor having Gold ink smeared on his face and hands on a nightly basis as they cleaned the smudged artwork from your body.

You eventually came to enjoy the golden artwork that was drawn upon your skin every morning, it was a tedious process but to you it meant safety. Your life could have been much worse than to be one of the Emperor’s prized toys in your mind, at least this way only his hands were allowed to grace your skin and you weren’t passed around the senate like some communal toy to enjoy, like so many girls were. You came to enjoy the Emperor’s touch after he claimed you, you expected him to be rough and take what he wanted, yet he was gentle and he touched you with pure reverence, as if he was worshipping a goddess every night, bringing you bliss like you had never felt before he claimed his own.

Weeks had passed, you were now very established as Geta’s property, it only took one guard touching you by accident and him losing his hand for it to really drive the message home. You were essentially given free reign of the palace, walking wherever you desire as long as you remained within it’s walls. As you made your weekly trip to the library your path crossed with his brother, Caracalla, you hadn’t seen him really since the day you attended the games all those weeks ago. He was surrounded by a host of his guards and friends, you looked down sheepishly, bowing before him politely and sought to avoid him in the hallway, until he came close and grabbed your arm tightly. “Look men, it’s Getas favourite whore!” He said through laughter, watching his guards return the laughter in a pained way, they were well aware of the consequences of touching you and stayed well away, avoiding your pleading gaze. He gave off the image that he was in a drunken stupor but in reality, he knew what he was doing, he relished the idea that Geta would see his handy work upon your body paint and send him into a frenzy. Caracalla laughed in your face and let go of your arm roughly causing you to crash against the wall as he and his host continued to walk away, a few of the guards gave you sad looks, as if they were anticipating Geta to take his fury out upon you. You looked down and knew that your body paint had been spoilt, a sickness rose in your stomach at this, you changed your course to head back to your room, hoping that one of your maids would be there and be able to reapply the paint for you before Geta saw.

As you made your way hastily back to your room you were summoned, this wasn’t like Geta to summon you at this time. You tried to plead with the guard to give you even a small amount of time but he was adamant that you were required now. You held your head high and prayed to every God you knew and even the ones you didn’t really know, hoping that Geta would be so clouded by lust or any emotion at this point that he wouldn’t take any notice of your smudged body paint.

As you walk into his room you see him lounged across the chaise lounge waiting for you, this was a sight you would normally enjoy if you were not so anxious to see him. Geta becomes aware of your presence, he begins to stand and stalk over to you, always treating you like you were his prey and his prize.“Ah, my precious treasure.” His voice laced with desire as he comes to stand in front of you. He takes a strand of your hair between his fingers and plays with it gently. “And here I was thinking my treasure had left me.” He teases playfully, his eyes roaming your body until his eyes cast down onto the arm that Caracalla manhandled. Geta’s eyes turn black with rage, you had never seen him so affected in this way, you had seen him angry and throwing pitchers of wine across the room in a fit of rage after war meetings but this was different.

“Who touched you?” Geta struggled to say through gritted teeth, barely holding onto the rage that was boiling inside of him. You swallowed the saliva that was threatening to spill from your mouth, wondering how it was possible for your mouth to go dry and over produce saliva at the same time, you looked up at him with pleading eyes for him to not question further. Suddenly you found his hand on your face, squeezing your cheeks hard so that your lips pursed forward, your eyes tearing up at the feeling of the metal of his rings digging into your soft flesh. Your face is pulled closer to his as he snarls at you, not sure whether his anger is at you or the perpetrator who touched your sacred flesh. “I said, who fucking touched you.” His eyes now ablaze with fury, spitting venom through gritted teeth, you really didn’t want to admit that it was Caracalla, you saw how they were together and you wanted to refrain from pouring more fuel onto an already out of control pyre. You sobbed softly, partly from how he was roughly squeezing your face and partly from the admission that was ready to spill from your lips. “It was your brother, my Emperor.” It came out as barely a whisper as a lone tear streaked down your face. You saw in Geta’s eyes the unbridled fury that clouded them, you were his, the one thing Caracalla couldn’t have but he tried to spoil you anyway. Geta’s hand fell from your face roughly and you stood there in shock in the middle of the room, barely able to process what was happening. You watched Geta collect his sword before he came back over you, his hand roughly grasped your face again before he kissed you in an aggressive yet desperate way. “I will remind him who you belong to, my treasure.” His voice shaking with fury as he breaks the kiss and storms out of the room. You stand there watching him walk away, wringing your hands and picking your nails through anxiety, praying that he sees reason or is stopped before he happens upon his brother, knowing that if he finds him, one of them won’t come out of this situation alive

[deantfwinchester]

A New Chapter

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AUJoel x Teacher!Reader (pregnant)

Moving forward in the narrative a bit y'all. Our girl is pregnant now, so we're a couple years into their marriage. The premise of this one's a little goofy, but he looks so pretty in the Gladiator trailer I couldn't help myself.

Summary: You and Sarah go Halloween costume hunting and find the perfect family costume, much to Joel's chagrin. He'll do just about anything for his little girl, though. :)

Warnings: fluff as per usual. a teeny bit of angst and emotional h/c, but so so fluffy. a couple of suggestive little innuendos for fun, but very much PG as usual.

A/N: I'll make a little timeline at some point explaining how these all fit into the same universe, but they're definitely the same couple so far! I've got plenty more planned for these two, and I'm excited to keep going, but I've also got a kind of multi-chap AU situation I may try to write? Idk, guess we'll see which bulleted fic I'm inspired to expand next, lol.

Word Count: 3.3k

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“You can’t be serious,” Joel looks at you, exasperated. 

“Serious as a heart attack,” you respond, smiling wide. 

“Hell no!” he says, amused at the very idea. 

“What, Sarah’s got that precious little goddess dress from the costume store, and they were right next to it!” you exclaim. 

___________________________

You’ve just presented Joel with a gold and white roman general costume you found while you and Sarah were shopping for Halloween costumes. You took her to the costume shop after picking her up from school and the two of you were over the moon. Halloween is your favorite holiday hands down - you and Sarah have always had that in common. It was one of the first things you bonded over, and Joel was thrilled that the two of you wanted to do that together. You hadn’t been looking forward to finding a maternity costume though - it was still early September, but you knew one that fit well right now would be pretty uncomfy by the end of October.

You and Sarah walk a few aisles in before stopping in your tracks at a beautiful mythology display - long dresses and beautiful accessories with the names of different Greco-Roman goddesses in a row, with a family-costume display showing mannequins of an adult man, adult woman, and a teen girl and young boy. The young boy’s costume had a shield and chest plate of worn-looking plastic, and the teen girl’s costume was a long ombré-colored dress with little gold appliqués printed on the hem.

Sarah was enchanted. And you were enamored with the childlike wonder she felt touching the low-quality polyester and spandex blend. The adult women’s costume mirrored the toga-like shape of the girl’s, but was one-shouldered and of a different shade. Sarah saw them and immediately knew what she wanted to be for Halloween this year - a princess in this goddess dress and you an empress to match. The names on these costumes were inaccurate as hell, but you weren’t here to hold Spirit Halloween to historical accuracy or academic integrity. The look on her face made it clear you couldn’t say no - especially when you saw the Maternity option hanging in a thick plastic bag next to it closed with a plastic snap. At least this costume would hang loosely no matter how much you’re showing by Halloween. Might even drive Joel a little crazy. 

Once you agreed to it, you decided just the two of you couldn’t do it alone - not when there was only one member of your family to be left out. You grab the Adult Men’s costume hanging next to the mannequin - it was different from the boy’s, not some sort of battle armor, but labeled Emperor to match the adult women’s. It’s white and lined in gold leaf appliqués just like the goddess costumes. It's a beautiful costume, with a cape and a little caged skirt thing hanging over the tunic. You’re especially fond of the myriad golden accessories accompanying this costume - wide bangles and a little headband of golden leaves. You’re torn between cackling at how much Joel would undoubtedly protest such an elaborate costume and practically salivating at the image of him wearing it. He’d look ridiculously hot in this costume — you’d just need to convince him. 

Joel isn’t totally averse to costume-wearing, especially for his girls’ favorite holiday. He would put on a little something here and there to appease you or Sarah - maybe a cape or a few accessories. You’d seen pictures from one Halloween a few years before you met them with Sarah in a pretty little pink fairy costume and Joel in a much too small pair of wings and a feathery tiara, holding a matching wand. Seeing it never fails to make you smile.

Joel is a wonderful father to Sarah - he can always tell her No when necessary, whether it has to do with her health and safety, development, or due to financial constraints, but always explains to her why. As much as he’d love to spoil her to pieces, he wants to make sure she grows up with a realistic understanding of the world around her, and understands both her privilege and the difference between Want and Need. The way he communicates with her and makes parenting choices with a focus on the kind of person she is and will become is in large part what drew you to him - to a place where you not only felt comfortable being with him, but having a child with him. You are more than confident he’ll be a wonderful father to your next child as well — he’d made that clear when you’d first found out.

When it wasn’t necessary to tell Sarah No, however - he couldn’t ever look his little girl in the eye and resist. Letting her polish his nails, play with glittery make-up, and wearing little wings to match her own were just a few of the things he’d done to make her smile. If the only reason to say “No” was that he didn’t want to, well it simply wasn’t reason enough.

With this knowledge in mind, you were fairly certain Joel could be convinced to put on this elaborate costume - maybe with some work boots instead of the mannequin’s little sandals, though. And a pair of shorts under the skirty pieces, probably. Once you and Sarah have picked out the shades you want and spent way too much time staring at the wall of accessories for your own costumes, you leaf through the men’s costume bags for Joel’s size and snag one off the rack. Sarah’s eyes go wide when you turn around and raise your eyebrows at her, and a huge grin spreads across her face - she’s laughing excitedly at just the prospect of her dad in this elaborate costume, and shaking her head vigorously while agreeing - it has to come home. 

____________________________________________

“C’mon baby. Y’all’s are beautiful but this?,” says Joel, gesturing to the elaborate white costume you’ve removed from the bag and hung up to present to him in all its gilded glory. “This is insane. Looks more like a damn wedding dress than a Halloween costume.”

“Oh but Joel, it’s so beautiful! I know it’s a little elaborate, but Sarah and I are already gonna be matching. We want you to do it with us! Dress as a family for the party,” you plead, and you can see his resolve beginning to crack. He shakes his head, both hands on his hips, and glowers at you, though it lacks any real contempt.

“Darlin’ I think it’s precious that you and Sarah got these little matching costumes. Hell, nothing could make my heart happier than seeing you two looking so gorgeous together in these pretty dresses she chose. But y’all are my beautiful little stars of the show, let’s be honest,” he finishes, placing his hand heavily on your hip and drawing you closer. “You, Sarah, and her perfect little sister on the way,” he grins, resting his other hand on your belly and locking eyes with you. 

“That’s kinda the thing though, Joel. This is the last Halloween we can do this, just the three of us. Every Halloween after this will be a different kind of special, but it’ll never just be us and Sarah again after this year. You know she’d love it, no matter what the reason,” you say with a slight smirk, knowing you and Sarah both want this, at least in part, to mess with Joel. 

He locks eyes with you,and his are gentle and wistful at the idea. You’re both elated at the mere thought of the future ahead with your growing family, but the change is a big shift for all of you. You worry about Sarah more than anything. You’ve had this conversation a couple of times already — the age gap between Sarah and the baby is so big, you just worry she’ll feel left out when you two get busy, or get hyper focused on the baby those first few months. 

You aren’t afraid to admit that you’re scared — scared you won’t be able to give the baby everything she needs or scared you won’t bond like you should. It’s a big relief to you, a new mom, that this won’t be Joel’s first rodeo. He’s already assuaged your worries on multiple occasions during this pregnancy and preparation period with his existing knowledge in child rearing. There’s not a man in the world better suited to fatherhood, and his quiet confidence and reassurance when your anxieties arise comfort you more than he’d ever understand.

But the fear is still there — fear of not being enough, leaving Joel to feel like he’s alone in this all over again, even with you standing beside him. You’re especially scared you won’t ensure Sarah continues to get all the attention and love she needs. You know fully well that your love can only multiply — it does so a little each year a new set of students arrives at your classroom door — but your attention can unfortunately divide, and sometimes will, despite your best efforts. 

Yes you both want to mess with Joel a little with your request that he wear this elaborate costume that’ll make him a bit bashful; but more than anything, you want him to do it with the two of you for Sarah. To make that choice to remind her that the two of you would do anything for her — as goofy as the request may be — no matter how much your lives change in the coming years. You want to do as many special things for her as possible beforehand — and you need his help for this one. 

“I just — I know it’s silly, but I want her to enjoy this chapter as much as possible before things change. And I know you do too, I’m just…,” you look down at your feet as you say this, unable to find the words to continue. Your eyes mist over as you think about it, and before you know it, you’re in his arms, face pressed tightly against his chest. His hand holds the back of your head, pulling you close, thumb moving gently back and forth over your crown, soothing the concerns he could see encroaching as you spoke. 

“Sweetheart.‘S not silly at all,” he pauses, searching for the words to help you find solace in your unease. “I know you’re worried about that, I do. And do you know how much it means to me that this is on your mind? That you’re busy growing a little person in there, having to think about mothering a baby for the first time, and she’s at the top of your list?” Joel stares at you with a sincerity that aches in your chest before he continues, “And that’s why I want you to remember that she knows. You’re an incredible mother already, baby, and none of that’s gonna change. The fact that you’re concerned about it in the first place is enough. I really believe that, baby. Sarah’ll always know that we’re here.”

You’re crying for real now, burying your face in his chest again as he squeezes you tight, resting his head on yours as it lies in the crook of his neck. He closes his eyes and holds you for a bit longer, slightly swaying back and forth to soothe you. He knows the hormones are playing a part in your worry and reaction, but also knows better than to identify them as such. No matter the cause, you’re experiencing these feelings — and no matter how fleeting they are, he’ll make sure you get what you need. 

After a minute or two of holding you in silence, Joel pulls his head back and looks down at you, rubbing your back to rouse you from your trance. You look up at him to see a small smile on his face and enough warmth in his eyes to have you weeping all over again.

“Alright darlin’, let’s go give this ridiculous getup a shot,” he says, gesturing toward the bedroom with his head.

“Really Joel?,” you ask, voice filled with hope and gratitude. 

“Course baby. If I’m gonna wear it, gonna damn well make sure it fits right.”

“Wait’ll you see the accessories!” you say excitedly, wiping your eyes and sniffing back the last of your tears.

“Oh good lord,” he huffs out, rolling his eyes playfully before grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom, costume in hand.

______________________________________________________

~ Halloween Night ~

“Have I told you yet how gorgeous you look in this costume?” you ask in Joel’s ear as Sarah runs ahead of the two of you toward the door to Tommy’s. 

“Only about seven times since I first put it on, sweet girl,” he says to you through a smile, chuckling at your insistence. “Better give it a rest, or my head’s gonna be too big to fit through the door by the time we get home.” He smirks at you, squeezing your hand in his as you cross the yard. 

“Ah, I think it’ll fit just fine,” you reply, rubbing a gentle hand against his chest. “Did I tell you how sexy you are tonight yet?,” you whisper closer to his ear now, smiling while you do it, grinning wider as a light blush touches his cheeks before he smiles at you as well.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Mighta mentioned it once or twice.” His brows furrow as he feigns consideration. “I’d much rather talk about how incredible you look tonight, darlin’,” he whispers into your neck before pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, all too softly for the hormones rushing through your system. He knows it too, when your eyes go wide and your own cheeks flush, and is far too satisfied with himself for your liking. Years into your relationship and he can still drive you wild with so little — you have plenty of tricks up your sleeve as well, but the second trimester has been giving him an unfair advantage lately. 

Before you can gather your thoughts, you’re behind Sarah at Tommy’s door as he opens it to greet you, cowboy hat on and beer in hand. Otherwise, still dressed in his work flannel and jeans. Damn, Joel’s gotta be jealous right now. 

Tommy hugs Sarah and ushers her inside before looking at the two of you, eyes widening as he takes in Joel’s appearance, pretending to hide the elation growing on his face at seeing his brother in such an elaborate outfit. 

“Well ain’t that a lotta gold? Not sure what I expected when Sarah told me, but this wasn’t it,” he says, biting back a laugh. “Gotta say brother, didn’t think you had it in ya,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder, unable to conceal his entertained grin any longer. Joel rolls his eyes in response, and along with Tommy, looks to you.

“Now you look beautiful honey. Though I gotta say, if you’re goin for one of the Vestal Virgins, I think you may be in trouble,” he jokes, looking down at your growing bump and pulling you in for a hug.

“Aren’t you a riot,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes and smiling at his comment before hugging him back, “Hi Tommy. Y’all having fun in here?”

He moves aside so you and Joel can enter the house and Joel follows after Sarah to grab you both a drink. He’ll grab a beer like his brother, while you’re relegated to a soda without caffeine for the time being. 

“Course we are!” He waits until Joel moves further away and leans toward you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I have to say — Thank you. Thank you so much. For that,” he gestures toward Joel at the little drink bar with Sarah. 

You chuckle a little with him, “You’re welcome. Go easy on him tonight though, alright? I know he’d much rather be wearing what you are right now,” you ask.

“Alright, alright, I promise. But please take pictures. Take so many pictures,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. “Seldom I get to see my brother like this, I’m gonna need a record of it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s kinda the idea. Speaking of which, you really put some effort in on the costume for tonight, huh?,” you ask, unimpressed, but good-natured.  

“Hey, I’m hosting! A little busy gettin’ everything together. Besides, a cowboy hat always suits me,” he gives a winning smile before changing the subject. “Now how are you and my little niece doing tonight?,” he asks, moving a hand down to your belly and bending a bit to greet the little one from outside. You place your hand on top of his and move it over to the side where you’ve been feeling the baby moving around lately.

“Say something to her again,” you instruct, “she’s been wiggling up a storm today.”

Tommy speaks to the baby above your belly again and you feel a little foot move ever so slightly against his hand. The way he lights up warms your heart, and you’re nearly overcome with emotion. He’s so excited to feel her that he hugs you to him once again. 

The two of you talk a bit longer about the newfound quickening, and you’re elated at his enthusiasm. It’s an incredible feeling, knowing just how much this baby will be loved — how surrounded she’ll be with family, and how happy everyone will be to have her there. Before you can think yourself into happy tears, Joel returns, smiling wide overhearing his brother’s excitement. He has a beer in one hand and an odd-looking green drink in the other, adorned with a black bendy draw covered in skulls. Your eyes widen as he hands you the cloudy slime-colored monstrosity. Tommy looks warily at the drink, and excuses himself to go talk to Sarah instead. 

“Oh Joel, what is that?!” you ask amused.

“Go on, try it darlin’” he says, gesturing for you to take a sip.The morning sickness had been rough in the beginning, and though it had tapered a few weeks back, you weren’t exactly looking to reawaken the nausea anytime soon. 

You sip with hesitation. It’s surprisingly tasty, a little fruity and fizzy. When you look down in it to find two gummy eyeballs staring back at you, bobbing around in the green. You laugh aloud at the sight, and Joel smiles so wide his eyes nearly close - he has two favorite sounds, and that’s one of them. Soon enough, he’ll have three. 

“It’s delicious, but what the hell is it?,” you ask through the laughter. 

“Sarah and I thought you might like a little Halloween mocktail to shake things up. I think it’s lemonade, sprite, and some of that blue stuff? Might be some pineapple or orange juice in there too, I think Sarah just started adding stuff. Gummy eyeballs were apparently a necessary garnish - she said they’re ‘on theme’ and that you’d agree.”

“She’s very right. Thank you sweetie, I appreciate it,” you say, taking another sip before kissing his cheek. You got him this time, and he grows a slight bashful blush at the public affection, but it’s never unwelcome. 

“Course. Happy to experiment for you anytime, sweetheart,” he grins back and you lose the battle, jaw dropping open a bit in response, eyes wide at him. 

He laughs again and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, before kissing you gently, just enough to keep the rise going. The two of you look over to see Tommy and Sarah talking excitedly, mixing some sort of other “punch,” this time in a shade of red. You raise your cup to Joel’s lips, and he takes a sip, looking surprised at the quality of their amateur mixology. You lean your head against his shoulder as you both look on at the party, wistfully watching your daughter enjoy herself. You stay there for a while, doing everything to remember the final Halloween of this beautiful chapter, just before a new one begins.

[elfieafterdark]

Harrow Nova, defeating Ortus in a duel. Defiling the inner sanctum with violence, in front of pilgrims.

Shameful, embarassing, and perfectly legal. Much to the Reverend Daughter's chagrin, Ortus accepted the terms, then wretched little Harrow carved him up with her rapier and strangled him with a chain of Samael until he yielded.

So, in a cruel twist of fate. Gideon, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House, has a new cavalier primary.

Riding in a shuttle to Canaan House. Summoned by the emperor. They sit across from each other, on strange and rather uncomfortable fold-out chairs made of Plex.

Why the fuck is everything made out of plex? Don't they have any other materials? Plex chairs, plex tables, plex toothbrushes, plex... toys...

NOT that the Reverend daughter knew ANYTHING about such lustful things. And she certainly isn't feeling anything lustful now, now that this little rat creature is her Cavalier.

Not to mention that said cavalier is scowling at her like she means murder.

All Gideon can do is weep, she misses her house. Though she keeps her face steeled. The Ferret grins wickedly as they walk off the shuttle. The first house is beautiful, yet the beauty is lessened by the scrawny punk wearing those ridiculous glasses.

The shuttle door opens.

"Would you like, my hanky?" Ferret croaks. Anger flares. The nerve of this rat.

"I would like to watch you die."

Harrow chuckles, "Maybe nav, maybe... But not today."

[plasticfangtastic]

A Garden Without Impurity

A Homelander x GN Reader fic one-shot

A/N: Should be working on my other fics but i needed to get this out me system, inspired by a conversation I had in this site and watching the apothecary diaries, not an expert on chinese harem systems but i based this sort of on the Qin Dynasty system bcuz it was like the simpliest, like those emperors got around a lot… this is more drabble than fic-fic but i hope y’all enjoy.

Tags: light smut, 3-some, bilander, dark topics, not proofread I die here, non-canon complaint/canon-divergent, takes place in who knows, traditional polygamy, no dialogue here btw, Homelander being himself, light gore.

Word Count: 5K 

Synopsis: You’re a member of Homelander harem, this is but a documentation of that.

Homelander was always a lonely man perpetually hunting after love, for anybody who could give him attention, who would want him. He clung easily to lovers, too young at first to notice how easily he could be tricked into becoming nothing but a trophy fuck, too inmature to notice how his behaviour frightened them in the long run, and the more and more he was hurt the worse he became, all he’d learned was how to hide his anguish– turning him dangerously bitter.

Lovers came easy but just as easily they left– either scared straight by an army of lawyers, handsomely compensated or increasingly more often in pine boxes… crisis management meetings became so commonplace they began to be run on emails. 

 He was a man desperate for love– so much love to give but nobody could ever give him an ounce of what he needed, an ounce of what he gave, he was hungry for intimate devotion and adoration, the public could only give him bites sizes but it was fading and quick, and his mind steadily warping from this unfulfilled primal need.

Lovers couldn’t handle how pushy he became, how possessive and controlling he could become, how he wished to monopolize everything– so it was a problem, his sickly nature only wisthand by those contractually obligated to tolerate him, Maeve who had been so perfect until the downstairs neighbors logged less and less noise complaints as their passion cool and soured and Madelyn whose allure came in how untouchable she was, how forbidden she was, how much of a special occasion she had to be, and well rumors circulated involving Mr. Edgar but nobody ever dared to discuss it much.

Porn seem to alleviate some issues but the poor team in-charge of monitoring his online usage had filed formal complaint about having to be subjected to so much ‘stepmom porn’ and increasingly bizarre fetishes, whether he watched them to get off or not was unknown but once he switched the porn to browsing  r/watchpeopledie– a meeting had to be made and this time it was in person.

It was hard to pin-point the exact moment a suit suggested this solution– it was merely a joke but no matter how thick these walls were it would never be missed by Homelander, who indulge them.

And the project began to take place, with the end goal to provide him with company, and a controlled environment for Vought overseeing… a facility where the damage would be limited to seven floors and 30 large and luxurious condos.

Legally this building was just one of the many owned by Vought– like many other megacorps it was no surprise Vought dab in real estate, owning a couple buildings around the city to provide employee accommodation much like their Silicon Valley competition. After selecting the small building that once simply served as their own service apartments to accommodate shareholders, the project began to take place.

Homelander found it amusing, interested as to what things were going… surprised about how much he was looking forward to this, much to his chagrin– Homelander was very much a man and at the thought of being supplied with sex on tap he was quite happy to play along giving it a fair-go for a few weeks then forget about it after the novelty faded.

The first iteration was an utter failure, simply nothing but a duped “Playboy” Mansion, women who were paid to seduce him and become available whenever he desired– they were boring,  they weren’t there for him, they were there for the paycheck and presents, for the free rent and the possibility of becoming his favorite perhaps.

It was dull.

Painfully dull, nothing different from what he was doing, only it was kept behind closely guarded doors and managed by the company that micromanaged everything else in his life.

Dull Lovers who barely pretended to care, who rolled their eyes when he wanted to talk about his interest, who looked at their phones during the good scenes of his favorite films, who signed when he wished to be held, who gave no enthusiastic response at anything but Versace and Jimmy Choo’s.

He felt the ever growing emptiness spread further like a cancerous mass. 

As he sat alone sinking on his couch flipping channels in the dark and his eyes finally grew heavy for the night– his fingers stopped in some show about a man trying to balance having four wives, the scenario intrigued him… a man married to several women who seemed enamored with him despite all the drama in the background… These women on his screen weren’t like the ones provided… they weren’t his… They didn’t love him nor wanted to devote themselves to him, they were just high paid prostitutes– even the women at the Playboy Mansion he had met seemed to have a better relationship to the old creep than his own had to him– he wasn’t special or interesting to them.

 It was transactional and the affection unconvincing, unlike this man’s wives who seemed to care about him, who didn’t look forward to meeting other men or keep in touch with old John’s and sold their feet pics online to just any guy.

Vought or the public would never allow him to have a dozen wives, he wasn’t even a Mormon, officially he was an Evangelical just in name not in practice so he couldn’t simply adopt the church's views nor was he interested in even more rigid rules… I mean he did enjoy a cup of coffee every once in a blue moon and he certainly had a spicy tongue.

It took a lot of trial and error and plenty of lawyers too.

But a single joke turned into this…

You had been there for quite a long time, you seen plenty of pretty faces come and go, most left because they disliked the system in place– had they simply bothered to glance the wikipedia article on Chinese harem practices before signing the dotted line their grievances would have been lessened… altho calling yourself a polygamist might not even been an applicable label– after all his rules made it difficult to do so.

 You had simply been a low-level intern when Homelander first laid eyes on you all those years ago.

He watched you for a long time and you watched him with the same intensity, he was a pretty thing, he had a quirky laugh that veer into cackle territory, his hands were as soft as the rest of him and above all you could tell pretty early on that there was a hunger inside him unmatched by anything else.

No lover before had ever made you feel so wanted, he made you feel as if he was born for you, no lover ever devoured you with a single look… it was desperate.

When have you ever felt this desire before? You asked yourself the more intense this became.

You never experience the titillation and the fear that his hunger inspired in you, the way he touched and explored every inch of your skin inside that broom closet made you fear for your life, as if he would feast on you and gnaw at your bones like a dog with a fresh treat, that one spicy rendezvous after office hours quickly became a regular occurrence and he never had enough.

Neither did you.

His gentleness hid praise worthy self-control, he molded his performance after what made you feel best but you would soon learn it was performance– you were puddy in his hands as he trapped you with this pleasure.

To be yearned for was different, he wanted all your free time to be for him, to ignore all the pretty faces and nameless ass that crossed your sight and devote yourself to him, he was honest about wanting you, about wanting you to love him just as much as he could love you.

Made worse by the fact that you had no qualms with the worst of his personality your fights and arguments as unhealthy as anybody else but always over petty things, never about the nights he soaked the carpet with some miscreant chunky remains, after all you had to be a bit loopy and unhinge to look at him as if he was the only source of light in the cave that was your life.

It was a long courtship before he told you about ‘The Gardens’. At first you simply thought it was another luxury building stuck in Manhattan but behind the doorman and reception clerk was a building only inhabited by lovers.

It wasn’t easy to digest– but floor to ceiling windows, private drivers and Hermes boxes demonstrate to your ego that you might have a price… The 6 figure allowance certainly made your stomach drop as you accepted new found facts about yourself… this was not counting any extra presents– after all your job would be to stay pretty and interesting for him.

You certainly had your suspicions but you had been quite enamored with the Supe, unable to look away from those cornflower blues and the sad expression painting his face as he began to suspect your rejection, the palpable anguish he was trying so hard to contain. Accepting simply to do a few excessive sessions of retail therapy on his dime to recover from the shock, coming in thinking he will grow bored of you soon enough and you could commence the healing process afterwards.

But you never left ‘The Gardens’, the people who ran the building would refer to you as the Noble Consort with the Empress or Imperial Noble Consort reserved for whoever Homelander was dating for the papers (altho you would have given the title of Stillwell for the longest time), to your disbelief you found enjoyment in this arrangement, your were free to pursue whatever you wanted for money was now not a problem– all those hobbies you had abandoned, halted and wished to explore were now back on the table, a new career change or education now a possibility, even pursuing a lifelong passion or dream was available, as long as you kept pretty and keep his favor.

There were other rules of course… Nobody besides Homelander could be in your life. Sex-work was out of the question once somebody took residency in one of the handful of luxury condos. Not involving oneself romantically with any of the other concubines or anybody was also a major rule. He demanded a vow of secrecy as well obviously–  telling anybody about the arrangement specially online or the media, and you would have a head on your front door… you would have prefered a finger, a tooth or a kidney like the others on your floor but he left the brainless severed head on yours.

You were certain that Vought kept a dystopian level of watch over your digital footprint while you no longer worked with Vought and did your thing… you heard the rumor of a shadow department whose whole job was to watch this place– it wasn’t really out of the realm of possibility after all Homelander was worth billions to them… and if not Homelander was there watching somehow.

Which is how you end up with having to call somebody to pick up and puzzle the old concubine back together.

He was The Emperor and thus you had to act like a noble, anybody caught breaking his rules would be in more than a little trouble– Homelander was quite cruel once a lover lost his fancy.

 But not as cruel as the other residents when they sensed somebody trying to plant the seeds of discourse, threats to the system were ever present whenever he brought a new concubine, those who survived the longer kept the peace. 

A mixture of jealousy and self-preservation feed the cruelty… after all these years you liked your comfortable life and so did the others– those with more expensive taste to your own, those whose families were partially supported by Homelander (if he was aware or not was not yours or his problem) those who loved him and didn’t wish to part, and those who needed his support to make sure even if he grew bored with them they had a back-up to their back-up, none who would risk losing it all just because some new lover wanted him all for himself– they had no grace about it and would soon realize that tribalistic nature of humans… unless somebody whispered sweetly in John’s ear and prevented the carnage.

Unsure as to why anybody would want to monopolize him as if this entire building wasn’t a red flag about how pointless that was, you discussed with the others.

He was more than an armful, he was too much even for you who obsessed so easily with him, who demanded his attention and affection but ultimately unable to match just how much he needed in return, you stopped disliking this new life because Homelander would never be satiated, because he would wear you down to a stub, because he would scare you away if you didn’t find a way to get breathing room, more for his sake than your own. You loved him, you wanted to hold tight but if he kept going you would let go of his hand mid-flight and the thought of hating him or falling out of love with him filled you with dread.

You needed him on a cellular level, you joked in the past as you talked to a neighbor, who understood you as he laughed.

It stung for a long time to live this way– You just made it look easy.

But you made it, and it earned you some perks.

You checked your agenda to make sure that time had come around, you weren’t called the Noble Consort for nothing– he would reserve you even outside your birthday week.

8.3 million people in this city and he could make sure you felt like the only one in this town.

Perpetually charming you thought as he landed inthe balcony with your favorite chocolate and flowers.

 If Homelander had to explain why he kept you the longest it was how you talked to him earnestly, you treated him as if he was not just a celeb but a husband, how happy you always were too see him, how you always clung to his shoulders even before his boots touched the ground and how quickly you always dragged him inside worried he would get sick from the cold winds, even if he went weeks without seeing you in person you never let him see it, it was as if no matter how long it had pass you couldn’t care less, only the now you experienced together mattered.

He wondered if this was how sailors felt when they came back home after a lengthy tour, if it was warm like this.

No matter how long this had been going on for– your love was genuine, he even thought of you as a weekend masochist for putting up with his whims, but you took him as he was and that was something special… something worth keeping… worth protecting.

He could snuggle in your chest all he wanted, he knew your fingers would scratch his scalp without command, he would find your warmth either gifted by your words or your core.

A perfect spouse to him, he would whisper to himself when you slept or when he missed you, in this intimacy he knew he would stay with you, the only one who understood what this place was all about, who was this emperor’s favorite.

Now when it came to sex–the life of his concubine wasn’t sexless… you doubted the man actually lived in his actual penthouse all the way up in Vought Tower, he might use it to change suits or pick up his mail, for he would share somebody else’s bed every night, if he didn’t you would find out at the lobby, perks of knowing everybody in the building was that rumors traveled quickly and plans of actions would be organized in elevators… so your bed was not infrequent and during your weeks he would always sleep there.

You keep a spare pair of his boots and gloves that didn’t came with the apartment, which said a lot about how infrequently did he slept at his legal address and your longevity in this palace– what did came was a toothbrush, comb, some of his skincare products and extra-creamy milk restocked frequently more so these days.

These private weeks were both sugary and bitter, date nights and cuddling lazily on the couch as he spoke of his day and listened to yours, you spoke a lot catching up with lost time while he washed your back and you washed his hair, knowing he would leave soon enough and return to some girl back in the tower or go downstairs.

And as your week ended he would treat you to something adventurous.

You kissed him in the upper courtyard by the warm dim lights surrounded by whistling shrubs, the night was starting to grow cold, draping his cape around you for your comfort, he moaned as your lips suckled on his neck savoring the feel of your tongue as you drew lines on chin, slowly melting on your sweltering heat, your hand taking his thigh with a firm squeeze teasing him as they came close to his member, kissing until lips bruised and blood inked his tongue, you kissed until his jaw started to numb and his cock leaked with anticipation, being uphere where somebody might see always excited him, he had already baptized every bench in this courtyard but it didn’t lose his splendor just yet.

His hips buckle as your hand finally gave him much needed affection, hearing your muscles push as hard as they could against him, mewling as you chuckled with delight at his reactions, his eyes so hazy.

Trembling as your hand left him, you pulled at his belt watching him blush as he remembered that the one thing you lacked was super strength, you leaned back as he swiftly began to lower his tights, throwing his belt to the ground so the cold steel wouldn’t make you shudder.

His cock was hard, crying rivers into the cold wind until your lips kissed it better.

He made no attempt to conceal his moaning, growling as your teeth grazed the sensitive head, he was unapologetically loud, this was the one place where he forgo all his acting lessons, nor did you want him to be quiet it made you excited to hear him moan, he just sounded so needy– cute too… and tonite he was obscenely loud, animalistic even, grunting and growling as your drooled unto your chin and made his thigh slippery, as you took his cock down to the base, licking down his taint, he lifted his legs adjusting his position to follow your tongue, whining and panting as you pleasured him, aggressively pumping at his cock as you suck gently on his balls.

You look up from half-lid eyes drowning on your own pleasure, he came with ease coating your throat with his thick salty cum but just as quickly as he came he would come back up and just as hard as a minute ago– you made it into a game to see how many times you could make him cum before he begged you to let him do it inside you for that was the only way to kill his battery. Pumping his shaft with short and quick pump focusing on the mid-length as to deprive his crying tip taking sadistic delight in knowing that he wanted you to touch the tip immediately but being too far gone to asks for it clearly as he mumbled incoherently behind his breathy wanton, his hips following the rhythm of your hands and tongue.

A shaky smile crossed his lips as the consort took pity on him, you chuckled knowing you won an unspoken bet with your downstairs neighbor, pulling their hair out of the way as their head went up and down and lips grazed your fingers.

You climbed up letting your fellow concubine enjoy themselves in this debauchery.

Biting on his ears as you whispered what you wished to do with him, calling him by his name with a sweetness that tingled something scary inside him.

Homelander laughed weakly against you, his hand pulling on the other’s hair gently, he spouts his orders, throwing the cushions unto the ground you both give each other giddy looks as the man pulls you down with him with the last bit of composure he had before burying his face with your crotch, one hand kept your hips in place and the other held his other concubine hand, gasping against you as the other took him, you saw red– it was not a competition but you did not want him to only focus on the warm enveloping his cock.

All that filled the air were your choir of moans above his muffled coos and whines as you fucked his mouth, his tongue doing his best to keep up, eyes rolling back as you took fistfuls of his hair pulling harshly distracting him so much that he had begun to run of breath, as he ate everything and swallowed desperately, trying to concentrate on the feeling developing his tongue and lips and the sweet musky scent drowing him, fading with a twsited smile as you fucked him earnestly and harshly, he loved it when he was made into a bitch, he would never say it outloud of course– like many things in this building it went unspoken, but you could tell that all the old residents shared a certain quality to them.

Men and women who provided something everybody was afraid of giving to him before.

You’d seen him cling to men and women who wished to mark him, who told him that he was as much their property as they were his.

That proved their love was not superficial… It was genuine.

Or genuine enough for him.

He moaned and bucked his hips pathetically, yearning to reach the furthest parts of you, filling you, to feel his own cum foaming within you as he fucked you.

Moving you quickly, glad that this time he had thought ahead with these cushions for your knees would be bleeding and burning otherwise– it was all hazy at this point, all you knew was his name, the cold wind hardening your nipples, and the sound of his hips slapping into you as he whimpered with a mixture of desperation and pleasure, he finger fucked your companion, hands fucking his lover just as fast and hard to have the concubine running out of breath begging Homelander to not dare stop, making a mess of themselves on his fingers, coating them as their hole squelched and sucked him right back in, as the man grew pleased with the sight, your hands interlocked squeezing hard as they rode their orgasm to a happy end.

You caught a ruby glimpse reflecting in a metal bench nearby, you gulped knowing you had to think quickly.

Turning your face and arching your back as you begged him to hold you.

Coming loudly letting your knees and elbows give up, letting him push you down with his weight, always surprised how heavy those silly golden eagles are, you couldn’t believe his shoulders weren’t stiff 24/7, with a satisfied chuckle he waits for you both to snuggle with him.

The other urges him to take it into their apartment for it was getting cold and they sure didn’t want to catch a cold.

He half-begrudgingly agreed, wishing deep down to go a few more rounds outside but as he felt your goosebumps he took you both inside urgently.

Your hands never touched after that, Homelander ever so vigilant of both your movements, all you could do was hope the concubine would learn just how stringent and absurd John could be, fearful that anybody would dare hold affections to anybody but him.

You kissed his neck, nuzzling against him as he watched the sleeping concubine coldly, arguing with himself if they had meant to break the rules.

Whispering his name as he squeezed your stomach, soothing his unspoken anxiety he let go of those thoughts.

He returned your affections, easing into him as you fed off his warmth.

You whispered quietly, enjoying each other, easing his worries.

This was a peculiar life but in these quiet moments it was like any other.

In these moments it all felt perfectly normal, the world might never get it entirely and you yourself struggled with it at times but when you woke up to his kisses on your chest as he found a way to turn into the little spoon while the other sneaked to the toilet, you certainly didn’t want to change things.

Not one bit.

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Fulgrim would consist of:

How did you two begin? Fulgrim called dibs on you and that was that. He put on the charm in doing so.

Having a hate-hate love-hate relationship with the Emperor's Children. Depending on the person in question, the issue can be quite superficial.

Your arguments or conversations also being somewhat superficial or... surprisingly philosophical depending on the topic.

Adopting some of Fulgrim's... Fulgrimness. Much to your chagrin. At times. You think.

Being pampered, the likes of which you've probably never been before to the point that it's THISCLOSE to becoming a gilded cage.

Fulgrim insisting on introducing you to much more... palatable forms of the arts than what you're used to.

Additionally, Fulgrim getting rid of your old wardrobe and replacing it with clothes "deserving of one of the Emperor's own".

Being his muse. You've lost count of the number of times you've had to pose for him as he painted or sketched you.

Primping sessions. That's it.

Gossip sessions. That's also it.

Remember the gilded cage mention? Fulgrim for all his braggadocio is rather possessive protective of you.

Fulgrim... not introducing you to all of his brothers. Sure, he may talk about them ever so often but the only one you've truly gotten acquainted with was Ferrus Manus and even that meeting didn't last long.

Him absolutely refusing to put you even a planet's distance to Konrad Curze.

Having the distinction of being one of the few of the Primarch's consorts to even be in the vicinity of the Emperor.

[mintyeggs]

gaining an extra set of eyes out of the blue definitely doesnt help with depth perception!

also sylvia is unfortunately very trusting of the emperor, much to the chagrin of his companions.

[lmk-oc-competition]

LMK OC COMPETITION - ROUND 2

Yuèliàng belongs to @sun4ndmo0n

Huilian belongs to @hummingbird13

Learn more about them below the cut!!

Yuèliàng:

Yuèliàng was created for the purpose to accompany Chang'e, as while she does have her robo bunnies it's lonely without anyone to talk to in person, so Chang'e made a more humanoid robot... But of course still bunny-themed it. Can't leave the bunnies out.

Yuèliàng goes by mirror pronouns. Yuèliàng is a friendly, optimistic, and playful robot, who's main purpose is to just entertain and socialize. Yuèliàng sometimes appears in Chang'e's cooking show to help keep the energy up. They would be great with children, despite the fact there's not really any children on the moon..

Huilian:

Huilian is generally cool, calm, and collected. Although she may seem like a regular fairy from Heaven, she has had hundreds of years of cultivating and training and is perfectly capable of defending herself and others if the need arises.

Originally a little girl who drowned in the eastern sea, she was reincarnated into a flower nymph and was found by Heaven. Fearing what would happen if she were to be left alone, the Jade Emperor forced Nezha to take her in as his disciple, much to his chagrin.

After Xiaotian/MK was done fighting the Demon Bull King, Heaven sent Huilian down to investigate. After finding out that a mortal now possessed Sun Wukong’s powers, she immediately reported back to the celestial court. They did not take it well and ordered Huilian keep an eye on the mortal, acting as Heaven’s eyes and ears on the situation.

[phantomfleur13]

Finally managed to make a reference sheet for Huìlián

Backstory:

Huìlián is generally cool, calm, and collected. Although she may seem like a regular jade maiden from Heaven, she has had hundreds of years of cultivating and training and is perfectly capable of defending herself and others if the need arises.

Originally a little girl who drowned in the eastern sea, she was reincarnated into a flower nymph and was found by Heaven. Fearing what would happen if she were to be left alone and remembering what happened with Sun Wukong, the Jade Emperor forced Nezha to take her in as his disciple, much to his chagrin.

After Qi Xiaotian/MK fought the Demon Bull King, Heaven sent Huìlián down to investigate. Upon finding out that a mortal now possessed the monkey king’s powers, she immediately reported back to the celestial court. They did not take it well and ordered Huìlián to keep an eye on the boy, acting as Heaven’s eyes and ears on the situation.

I am currently writing a fic with her so please check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51681472/chapters/130650067

(Propaganda for @lmk-oc-competition)

[nihilityart]

Ah shit, here we go again...

Autism strikes again. I got obsessed with this one Poppy Playtime AU. It's @onyxonline Space Rider AU, so I decided to create the six true dragons for this AU.

Just in case you cannot read the writing (My hand got tired lmao) I'll put some facts here. Also, kinda rushed the drawings since it's so late, so I apologize for the lack of details and spelling errors.

The True Dragons in this AU are members of a Royal family from a planet known as Central. Each member has a special power, these are more powerful than most other abilities.

However, these abilities come with the cost of being really hard to control. High risk, High reward type of stuff. They also can live for a stupidly long time (As long as they don't die lmao.) Most of them are also really arrogant, which is exploited a lot by both their friends and foes.

They are also all known to be hot too, lol.

(Star King Dragon) Veldanava:

-He's the King of Planet Central

-He's the Eldest of his six siblings

-He was 100,000 years old

-He has a wife and daughter (Lucia and Milim)

-He's dead as fuck lmao (He was killed by the Prototype and Ivarage) (lmao get rekt scrub)

-He lost all his power to ensure his planet would thrive

Special Power: Uriel (The Power to create White Holes)

(Weakness of Power: Overuse can cause him to implode)

(White Ice Dragon) Velzard:

-She's the Second Eldest of her six siblings

-She's the Queen of Planet Eternal Winter

-She's the partner of King Guy Crimson

-She's 20,000 years old

Special Power: Cthulhu (The Power to Decelerate)

(Weakness of Power: The power to decelerate greatly burdens her mind, overuse could cause permanent brain damage)

(Scorch Dragon) Velgrynd:

-She's the Third Eldest of her six siblings

-She's a total simp for Emperor Rudra

-She's the Empress of Planet Nasca

-She's 4,000 years old

Special Power: Cthugha (The Power to Accelerate)

(Weakness to Power: The power to Accelerate involves high temperature, overuse may cause her to combust)

(Storm Dragon) Veldora Tempest:

-He's the Third Youngest of his six siblings

-He's an Otaku and a Slacker

-He's terrified of his sisters

-He's the Guardian of Tempest

-He's a Space Rider only because Velsura is

-He's 2,000 years old

-He's the dumbest one

-"Rawr" >:3

Special Power: Nyralathotep (The Power of Chaos)

(Weakness of Power: The power of Chaos is hard to control, losing focus may cause more harm than good)

(Void King Dragon) Velsura "Rimuru" Tempest:

-He's the Second Youngest of his six siblings

-He's probably the most responsible member of the six

-He's the King of Planet Tempest

-He's a Space Rider

-His Space Rider Squad is known as "Octagram"

-He's incredibly cautious (To the point of being a weakness)

-Has a *cough* thing for Elves

-He's 37 years old

-Arguably the hottest of his siblings

-Keeps getting mistaken for a girl (Much to his chagrin)

Special Power: Azathoth (The Power of Black Holes and shit)

(Weakness of Power: *Sarcastically* Well would you look at that, black holes are hard to control, who would've thought?)

(Earth Emperor Dragon) Velgaia

-He's the youngest of his six siblings

-He's the most adorable member of the true dragons

-He's a Space Rider

-He's 18 years old

-Freeloader lmao

-He's the one that gets smacked around a lot by others

-Stop bullying him :(

Special Power: Cronos (The Powers of Earth and Shit)

(Weakness: He's the youngest and has very little control over his powers, he can only do very basic moves) (So much so nobody knows what the true drawbacks to his powers are yet)

Oh yeah, I failed to mention. None of them are powerful enough to beat the Prototype, he’s far stronger than them.

[woefullycivil]

Lord Obron AU

The Wittebros

Lord Obron & The Huntsman

Caleb & Philip Wittebane

Messing around with the au more still fiddling with Philips design

More about AU underneath

AU starts with everything changing when Philip reaches the isles the collector reaches him first helps enact his plan to become emperor before making an attempt on Caleb’s life, preaches his word to the masses. Caleb attempts to stop him and pays a great price.

Belos winds up getting merged with the collector trapped as only a shadow where as Caleb becomes cursed by titan.

Fast forward a little more than a hundred years the isles are in a state of unrest and disrepair, Lord Obron, the cursed man formerly known as Caleb Wittebane is the protector of Bonesborough.

Obron is somewhat estranged from the clawthorne flamily by no one other than himself. They still treat him as family and he still visits but is distant.

Obron does not bring his brother back but instead Philips scattered followers find the secret to create a grimwalker for him to possess.

Only able to find enough of Belos remains for one grimwalker. Obron frees him and later takes him in as an apprentice, going by Pip and calls himself the Silver Scout much to Obrons chagrin.

[tilapia-goulash]

scum villain au where instead of being a novel PIDW is one of those clickbaity imperial harem mobile games with ads like "WORK YOUR WAY UP! IMPRESS THE EMPEROR AND BECOME THE NUMBER ONE CONCUBINE!"

shen yuan, an avid mobile gamer, gets those ads constantly, and one day gets annoyed enough by it that he ends up downloading one of the stupid games just so his phone will leave him alone. Much to his chagrin, he ends up playing through the whole pointlessly convoluted story and leaving the world's longest and most detailed 1-star google play store review thoroughly cursing out the developers....before promptly dropping dead and waking up as the pettiest, meanest concubine in the harem. he's greeted by the system with one goal: work your way up and become the queen!

[spann-stann]

Setting Map: The World (2125-2800)

The Corporate Empire (CorpEmp): The big kahuna, and hegemonic empire to end all hegemonic empires. Their territory is more porous than they like to let on, as there are plenty of survivalist, pacifist, and millenarian enclaves (or folks that forgot to fill out their census paperwork) known collectively as the Reserves.

World Congress of Freedom (WCOF): Several urban centers and islands were designated as Cordons Sanitaire, semi-independent penal colonies where aaaalllllll the people that didn't want to be CorpEmp could go live. After Emperor Ignacio died in 2100, multiple Cordons revolted. The left-wing coalition of rebels formed the WCOF. Although they didn't overthrow CorpEmp, they won the next best thing: CorpEmp's begrudging recognition.

United Markets (UM): The right-wing half of the Cordon rebellion, though they preferred to bribe their way to freedom from CorpEmp than fight. The peace treaty that ended the Cordon Rebellion was signed in Las Vegas (all parties involved got comped rooms!) They are an equal mix of Anarcho-Capitalists and billionaire/tech-bro megacorps.

Green Consensus: The Long Island Cordon was full of hippies and less smelly environmentalists, so CorpEmp didn't invest too many resources in monitoring them. Then Ignacio dies, and all hell breaks loose across the Cordons. While the new Empress unleashed Operation JANISSARY on the rebels, the newly christened "Green Consensus" plants their environmentally friendly flag on the Amazon, Galapagos, and various islands (how Heinan and North Island ended up joining is a mystery). CorpEmp didn't contest, after fighting a 25 year war with two other factions.

DPRK Remnant: No one knows why the remains of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea got the San Marino treatment during the creation of CorpEmp. All modern historians know is that the Mount Paektu bloodline were left alone to rule their namesake. Not much info comes out.

Cordons Sanitaire: These are the ones that didn't make it. CorpEmp was able to take these Cordons during the Rebellion and kept them as Cordons in the Treaty of Las Vegas. It's Escape from New York 24/7/365 here.

Common Prosperity Coalition (CPC): They're not on the map, because no one wants them on it. They're the descendants of the many, many criminal organizations that survived WW3, the Warlords' Wars, and the creation of CorpEmp. They like to think they're on par with the Big Three (much to the Big Three's chagrin).

[lazysublimeengineer]

sweet disobedience

(A/N: Read the tags before proceeding to read downwards. I’m not responsible if you haven’t read the latest chapter and you’ve been spoiled as the tags and warnings in the beginning are sufficient to alert the reader. All I gotta say is Raichi’s sexy soccer must be doing something right to make Kaiser polite and say the magic word please to him out there in the field. For simpler purposes, this takes place after the match and BM has won against PxG in this so do mind the AU tag in this one. I don’t own anything from this franchise except for this filthy fic that reeks of nothing but gratuitous smut).

The grainy images from the several screens of the monitors were the only source of light surrounding the projector room that night.

But it didn’t deter the two individuals who were occupying the room from jumping at each other’s bones like horny rabbits.

Their grunts of pleasure and breathless sighs and muffled gasps were drowned out by the sounds which were coming out from the monitor screens.

“Shit! How are you still this tight when we’re at it for the second round now?” Raichi hissed out as his cock was held in a vicelike grip by Kaiser’s velvety and quivering walls. He was struggling not to come there and then. But with the way the other’s legs wrapped around his hips like a seductive tease and with that angry yet cockdrunk look on Kaiser’s face beneath him, he was this close to busting his load inside of him like a waterfall.

But he needed to goddamn focus.

His goal hasn’t been achieved yet.

“You just have an enormous cock you idiot. I don’t think that’s even fucking normal considering your stature.” Kaiser retorted hotly but his vitriolic words were weakened as a helpless mewl escaped from his lips when Raichi angled his hips to his sweet spot before thrusting in again which made him see stars in an instant.

“You’re still cocky like that? Y’know I kinda miss your cute little side that you presented out there in the field. You saying please is adorable for a high and mighty emperor like you.” Raichi replied as a husky laughter slipped past his lips.

“Fuck you.” Kaiser spat while drool was trickling down the underside of his lips.

“I am fucking you silly. But if you want me to stop then I’m fine with it as well.” Raichi gave him a sharp grin as he ceased his movements completely which made Kaiser’s eyes widen for a fraction of second and refrained himself from grinding desperately as he glared daggers at him.

“That’s not what I meant you dumbass. What the hell are you doing? Just fucking move damn, it!” Kaiser tried to sound like a menacing king in front of him but instead it came out as a fucking needy whine much to his chagrin.

“Is that the correct way to ask nicely of your teammate huh? What happened to the politeness earlier? Did I just imagine it or your just too shy to show your cute side again?” Raichi replied teasingly, it almost bordered on a taunt as he could see the sardonic smile playing on his lips.

If Kaiser didn’t need his cock right now, he would punch the living daylights out of him.

How dare this worthless wannabe mock him like this?

But at the same time, he couldn’t refute his words as the scene of him passing the ball to Raichi out there in the field and uttering the despicable word please to him continuously played at the monitor screen and reach his line of sight and hearing.

“You’ll pay for this you worthless cretin.” Kaiser ground his teeth.

“I’m not hearing the correct word from you.” Raichi replied easily.

Kaiser needed him to move again.

His traitorous body was screaming and itching to be filled to the brim once again with his cock which was still throbbing with aching need inside of him.

Fuck.

Kaiser’s brain must’ve been melted away from his skull since he was now thinking with his dick before he could stop the words which flew out of his mouth.

“Please...” He uttered faintly.

Raichi could taste the cloying desperation wafting out of Kaiser’s entire being. He’d never see the day that the so-called emperor would be pleading like this to him until this very moment.

One of those rare moments when got to see him like this and Raichi would never waste the given opportunity to use it properly.

“What was that? Can’t hear you over here.” Raichi arched a brow at him.

Kaiser gritted his teeth. “I said fucking please you dolt. Fuck me now or—.”

However, his words were caught in his throat and choked back on his spit when Raichi suddenly moved and pulled out from him. Without any warning, he slammed back into him ferociously and knocked the wind out of him.

“That’s more like it. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Begging like a cute prince like that?” Raichi chuckled throatily before it was interrupted into a series of moans as Kaiser clenched around him while his piston his insides in wild abandon.

“God just shut the fuck up or we’re going to get caught in no time.” Kaiser hissed at him and before he could stop himself his body moved on autopilot as let his hand wrapped around his nape and brought him closer to his face to crash his lips in a wild and dirty kiss, swallowing their lewd moans and grunts of pleasure in an instant.

If Raichi was taken aback by his sudden gesture, it wasn’t apparent to the other as he quickly followed his rhythm and movement, kissing him back hungrily.

They're not holding back as they were engulfed in the flames of pleasure and desire with Raichi railing him recklessly on the floor while Kaiser match his movements in speedy desperation and canted his hips faster and harder underneath him.

Kaiser’s body shook beneath him as he finally reached his limit and peak, moaning loudly inside his mouth as he splashed his load against their chests. This Raichi did it in and within a few more thrusts, he reached his climax and painted his walls in hot streaks of his cum.

A weak moan escaped from Kaiser’s lips as he was filled to the brim instantaneously.

For a while, nothing can be heard inside the four walls of the room except for their ragged breathing, loud heartbeats inside their chests, and the sounds of the crowd cheering from the monitor screens.

When lucidity started to kick in, Kaiser pulled away from him with a disgruntled look on his face. “Get the hell off of me you oaf.” He said in complete disgust.

Raichi just shot him a lopsided grin and raised his arms placatingly, rolling away from him. “Alright. No need to get so worked up over it.” He threw his clothes in his direction while he dressed himself quickly.

“If the emperor wants some assistance from a helpful teammate like me, then be my guest and knock on my door anytime. Your presence is very much welcome.” Raichi added with a playful wink thrown in his direction before he proceeded to leave him alone inside the projector room.

Kaiser clenched his fists to the side as he glared hatefully at the closed door. “Fucking bastard.”

(A/N: Kaneshiro debunked half of the top Kaiser fics in this site with one panel alone and exposed Kaiser’s peak bottom behavior in front of Raichi and the crowd during the match. Kaiser passing the ball then saying pretty please with cherry on top to Raichi is wild I tell you. BLTV is gonna have a field day once again after this match is over. Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you).