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i-fondued · 2 years

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Ghost | Sinners in Secret - Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen - The Corruption Ritual Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags!

A/N: I won't lie, this chapter I really struggled with and pacing is kinda off but the next few chapters already have their outline written so I'm hoping it helps out!!

EDIT TO ADD: I COMPLETELY WOKE UP FROM A DEAD SLEEP BECAUSE I REALIZED I DID NOT PROPERLY ANNOUNCE THAT I HAVE A BETA NOW!! @lurancyvenom HAS BEEN KIND ENOUGH TO NOT ONLY START GOING OVER SINNERS BUT ALL THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS AND OLD WORKS AS WELL AS NEW ONES I HAVEN'T SHARED YET. PLEASE SHOWER THEM WITH LOVE AND AFFECTION FOR GOING THROUGH THE EARLY THINGS THAT WERE WRITTEN AT LIKE 2AM!!

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

The next morning started pretty much the same as the previous one.

Swiss had curled around me at some point in the night, his sweet and spicy scent comforting as I buried my face in his chest, only to be awoken by Sister Imperator barging in again. Swiss and I darted apart, not wanting to give anyone the wrong impression. Quickly, I was ushered into the bathroom again to get ready and Swiss went off in search of some breakfast for us. I yawned as the Sisters worked to get me ready again, ignoring the occasional snide comments from Sister Caterina as I focused on the fact I would get to see my lovers again today.

“Sister, you seem off on another planet today,” Imperator teased, her hand on my shoulder bringing me back to the present. My cheeks flushed as I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Everything alright?”

“Y-Yes Sister Imperator, I’m sorry. I was thinking about Ter-Papa and Cardinal Copia,” I stuttered, correcting myself to use Terzo’s title in front of her.

“I know you miss them, but soon they will be back here with you.” She gave me a small smile before stepping away. “Come, let's get you dressed. But first, I think Swiss is back with your breakfast.”

I followed her into the other room, coming to sit in one of the chairs by the fireplace as Swiss walked over cheerily with a tray in his hands. My mouth watered as I saw a plate of eggs, sausage, and a thick slice of toast. A mug with steaming tea sat on the corner of the tray as well, and I smiled gratefully at my ghoul as he placed everything down on the table to my right.

“Thank you, Swiss.” I sighed happily as I took the mug in my hands, soaking in the warmth. “Do we know how Copia and Papa are fairing today?”

“Still on lockdown with Secondo last time I checked. They don’t require nearly as much prep as you do for these things, Sunshine,” he chuckled, curling up in the other chair set in front of the fireplace.

“No, I guess they wouldn’t…” I mumbled, pausing to sip my tea and nibble at my food. I was anxious about the ritual today, and I knew having a full belly would make me feel even more nauseous than I already felt. “I’m just ready to spend time with them again.”

“I know, I know. But only a few more days and then you are done, okay?” He placed his hand kindly on my leg and I smiled. “Now hurry up and eat at least a little bit, Sister Imperator is glaring at me and she scares me…”

I ate quickly, still unable to finish the whole plate, and headed back to allow the Sisters to finish getting me dressed and ready. Once more, I stood in front of the mirror turning back and forth to check out my reflection, and couldn’t help but feel impressed with what the Sisters had been able to accomplish.

I was swathed in a dress made of layers of soft, gossamer silk, cut in a renaissance chemise fashion, neckline scooping entirely off my shoulders and skimming low on my chest. The sleeves were large, billowing bishop sleeves that came in tightly at my wrist and had a cuff that came to a point over the tops of my hands. The dress had an empire waist, and the skirt flowed out in a way that flattered my frame. It also had a train that trailed behind me in a wispy, whimsical fashion. I was barefoot today, my toes already chilling on the stone floor, and I dreaded the long walk to the chapel. My hair was down and had, surprisingly, been left natural. On my head I wore a gold circlet fashioned to look like a crown of thorns, the fake spikes dull but still biting into my forehead and scalp sharply.

“Woah…” Swiss gasped before he whistled lowly, leaning against the frame of the mirror I was staring at. “I think they outdid themselves this time, you look like some sort of succubus…it’s…wow.”

“Good wow?” I blushed, swishing the skirts back and forth as I turned to take in all the angles

“Yes, of course, you ass,” he laughed, coming over to shove me playfully. Swiss was once again dressed in his formal robes complete with cape, and he bowed to me with a wicked grin. “Your Eminence, shall we?”

“We shall, Ghoul.” I offered him my hand and laughed as he kissed my knuckles before taking my arm and curling it around his, leading me out to the living room where my court awaited me. “You know, Imperator told me this was a genuine antique gown, like it should be in a museum…”

“Sunshine, the Satanic Church isn’t going to give up a dress that’s been used in this ritual for millenia.”

“But it belongs in a museum…”

“Try telling Papa Nihil that, okay?” he teased before taking a long, white veil from one of the Sisters and carefully draping it over my head, once again cloaking me in an air of pious mystery. Or at least that’s what I thought it did. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good enough,” Swiss chuckled as he signaled to Sister Imperator that we were ready to start the procession again.

…

Much like the day before, the progress to the Church hall was a slow saunter.

When we finally did arrive, I was thankful that I would be sitting for most of this ritual because my feet felt like blocks of ice. My teeth fought to not knock together as I held back a shiver that wanted to skim up my spine. Once again, Swiss walked me up the aisle towards the altar, however this time I wasn’t made to kneel at the base of the steps. Instead on a small platform was the Papal Throne, a relic from the Medieval ages, which was made of a deep, dark hardwood, and carved with all manner of depictions of the Cardinal Sins. Standing slightly to the side was Primo, who’d again offered to lead this ritual for us, a small wink waiting for me when we locked gazes.

Lifting my flowing skirts I moved up the steps slowly, holding onto Swiss’ hand as he helped me to sit on the velvet cushion of the ornate throne. Gently, Swiss lifted the veil to expose my face and I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips.

“You got this, Sunshine,” he whispered, before moving to stand to my right, arms behind his back as we watched the doors open up and the procession of Copia and Terzo make their way up to us.

They were coming up the aisle together, both had their heads bowed in prayer again, and were dressed in essentially the same outfit as the day prior. Today however their billowing robes were black and under them they wore white linen poet shirts with tight fitting breeches and knee high black boots. Both robes had a large beaded grucifix embroidered on the long train; the glittering beads and gold thread picked up the light and shimmered as they made their way up the stairs to kneel at my feet. Neither had looked me in the eye yet, and I squirmed with a slight pink hue to my cheeks when they bowed their heads in sync.

“It is with great pride that I am here today to continue the ritual for our ascending Prime Mover.” Primo’s voice pulled my attention, and I placed my arms on the armrests and straightened my spine as I felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on me again. “Today brings us a new rite to perform, a new way to prepare our throuple to take the step towards binding together for eternity.”

I swallowed nervously as Primo explained the importance of the ceremony today. Called the Corruption ritual, this one had origins in the Middle Ages. What was originally used to just mock the Roman Catholic Church down the hill, became something of a favorite of the Satanic Church as a premarital binding experience for lovers. The bride, or in my case Prime Mover, would be dressed in white with a crown of thorns, and would sit in the Priest’s chair on the altar platform. Due to my status, it was the Papal Throne I was sitting on, with a large basin of unholy water placed in front of me. There was heavy incense burning in the chapel, which gave everything a hazy glow as I looked at Terzo and Copia through my eyelashes. Both were looking at me like I was a vision from Lucifer himself, and I knew my cheeks had flushed another three shades darker.

Primo’s voice pulled me back - “...to clean Sister of her past sins, to absolve her of any guilt or shame as she prepares to ascend. Her partners will wash her, cleanse her, bring her strength and resolve in their next step in their lives together.” I moved slowly to slide my skirts up my legs, settling them on my thighs, as an attending Sibling slid the basin closer to me.

I held back a hiss as I dipped my feet into the cold unholy water that had been collected from the river outside and purified together by a fire and water ghoul. Terzo nodded his head in the direction of his brother as he reached and took the offered cloth from the Sibling, Copia mirroring him and his movements as well. Primo began to lead the congregation in slow prayer, the sounds of numerous voices droning on making my skin break out in goosebumps.

Copia was on my right side, Terzo on my left; together they started on my feet and calves. They each took a foot out of the water, running their cloth over my skin while praying in Latin under their breath.

Infernus Pater,

Huius Motoris Primi opprobrium eluamus,

Dulcem emissionem damnationis eterne sentiat,

Ut Supra, Ut Infra.

Hellfire Father,

Let us wash away the shame of this Prime Mover,

Let her feel the sweet release of eternal damnation,

As Above, So Below.

The feeling of their warm hands on my skin made me shudder slightly, eyes coming to look back at the pair of them. Terzo had a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to the inside of my ankle. I bit my bottom lip as I squirmed under his heated gaze, a small chuckle interrupting his prayers. Copia rolled his eyes, but had a fond smile as he glanced at Terzo and I; an intimate moment between us in the full chapel, as they washed my feet, ankles, and calves. I sighed happily as Copia took my momentary distraction to rub the arch of my right foot before kissing my inner knee. I blushed as he stood, holding the cloth still, and ran it over my face, the cool feeling of the water almost refreshing on my flushed cheeks as he coyly pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Amore…” he sighed, as he took my right hand and kissed my knuckles. “You look deliziosa.”

“Thank you,” I whispered back, cheeks flushed. “I miss you.”

“Il sentimento è reciproco, Stellina," he chuckled. Terzo stood, and just like Copia washed my face and pressed a tender kiss to my temple.

“I miss you too, Tesoro,” he mumbled, pressing another kiss to my left hand’s knuckles as he spoke. “Three more days, yes?”

“Yes. Just three.” I looked out over the gathered congregation, all the eyes on the three of us on the altar.

I felt like some sort of regal painting, my knights standing on either side of me like constant protectors. Primo spoke passionately of the commitment of a binding marriage like ours, our devotion to each other in ways that celebrated the seven cardinal sins. Warmly, he spoke of the bonds between a Prime Mover and her mate; or in my case, mates. I could see his eyes grow distant as he spoke of the love and devotion that would grow from a binding like ours, of the strength that it would bring the Satanic Church as I bore my men’s children. I couldn’t help but blush furiously as Primo handed us a glass of deep red wine that had been infused with several herbs, and blessed in rituals to bring luck and bless us with fertility. I sipped the glass after Copia passed it to me, a little dainty sip.

Terzo had a wicked gleam in his eyes again and smirk to match as he took the goblet from my outstretched hands, and took several large gulps, a quiet ripple of laughter over the congregation. As the ritual was coming to a close, Primo turned to us again and closed the ceremony much like he had the day prior. He gestured towards Swiss, who came over to me and lifted the veil to cover me again. Swiss bowed slightly towards me before offering his hand, helping me stand and make my way off the dais of the Papal Throne and down towards Primo.

“Go in peace, Sister.”

“Yes, Papa. As above, so below,” I murmured, bowing my head to him as Swiss and I headed from the dais and down the steps. Behind me I could hear the call and response he issued to Copia and Terzo in turn.

“Go in peace, Cardinal.”

“Come sopra, così sotto.”

“Lead the flock, Papa Emeritus the Third.”

“Come sopra, così sotto, Papa Primo.”

As Swiss and I were following out the procession of my court again, I couldn’t help but look back over my shoulder towards the altar. I knew this would be the last glance of them both till tomorrow night, the longest stint I’d been away from them since the rituals started. Copia was looking right at me, a sort of shy and lovesick look on his face that made my stomach do flips and knot itself into a ball. Terzo, however, was giving me the darkest, lust-filled glare I’d ever seen. He looked absolutely feral, and a shiver of anticipation for our post-binding night together ran up my spine and settled between my shoulder blades. As I stepped out into the hall, heading back to our suite, I gave them both a little wave and a smile that was obscured by the veil.

“Sunshine?” Swiss’ voice was low as he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Stop thinking about fucking those old men, we are in public and my pants are too fuckin’ tight.”

I almost choked trying to hold in the bark of laughter that threatened to spill out of me.

…

The knock on my bedroom door made me jump up, giddy as I glanced at the clock.

“Come in!” I called happily, trying to school my face into a picture of a serene woman. I’m sure I looked deranged standing in front of the fireplace as Sister Imperator and the other Sisters that had been chosen for my court came in.

“Alright, Sister. You know the drill by now, go and wait to get in the bath,” Imperator chuckled, as I nodded a little more aggressively than I needed too and darted off into the bathroom. “You seem eager tonight.”

“I’m just excited about seeing Copia and Papa, I spent so much time with them before all this. I feel like I’ve barely seen them.” I said shyly as I waited in my bathrobe for the tub to be ready.

Tonight I’d be dressed in the finest dress I’d worn so far, and would wine and dine to my heart's content. I’d be expected to dance with every member of the Emeritus clan, Papa Nihil included, and several members of the Clergy.

The main ritual, more like a ceremony, was having both Copia’s name and my own added onto the tapestry in the meeting hall. It was supposed to be symbolic of adding the next lines, but also kept track of the line of succession as well. I didn’t care about anything but the fact I’d finally be able to spend more than five minutes with my beloved men, not to mention we’d all be dressed up for the occasion.

The butterflies that permanently lived in my belly lately flew around at the thought of what Copia and Terzo would be wearing this evening. After the party, at three in the morning, I’d be expected to journey by myself to speak with Secondo, and he would guide me through meditations and confessions to help prepare my mind and soul for the Prime Mover ceremony the next day.

When the tub was filled, I slipped in and relaxed as much as I could as the Sisters once again scrubbed me down like a queen. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sister Imperator speaking sharply with Caterina in the other room. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I could tell it was heated; the conversation ended when Caterina threw her hands up and walked out of my bedroom and into the hallway. Sister Imperator rubbed at her temples before turning to me with an apologetic smile.

“Please excuse Sister Caterina; apparently plans have slightly changed and she is needed elsewhere this evening.”

“I-I hope everything is alright?” I said, granted it wasn’t exactly like she’d be missed in my eyes.

“Yes, yes. More preparations need to be made for the ceremony tomorrow. It's very important, Sister Caterina was just looking forward to dinner and dancing.” Imperator sighed before handing me a cup of warm tea to enjoy in the bath. “It cannot be helped, however.”

After relaxing in the tub, letting myself soak in the hot water until my fingers were pruney, I got out and was once again rubbed down with oils and lotions to smooth my skin and make me smell like a bouquet of fresh flowers. I threw on my silk robe and moved from the bath to the vanity where another Sister went through the process of getting my hair to cooperate for the evening. They decided on a simple bun at the base of my neck, several wispy pieces pulled out to give an effortless windswept look, and they slipped an antique silver comb into my hair to hold the bun in place. My make-up was done simply at my own request; just a winged eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of red eye shadow for some color and a blush lip stain. The only jewelry I was given to choose from were either a large set of dangly gold and ruby earrings or the set of grucifix earrings I’d worn to the club. Without hesitation, I went with the grucifix earrings, and couldn’t help the small smile as I thought of that night.

“Come, Sister,” Imperator called, catching my attention as I took in my reflection. “We’ve got to hurry or you’ll be late.”

I came back into my bedroom and smiled brightly at Swiss, who was sitting in front of the fireplace with a book in his hands. He smiled back, giving me a once over with a nod of approval. With the help of the three remaining Sisters, we managed to get the heavy dress made of deep red velvet off the mannequin and over my head. Once I was tightly laced into the dress, the Sisters stepped back with small smiles and admired their handiwork, while I stood in awe of my own reflection.

“Wow…” I whispered, my face shocked as I took in the final look.

My dress was a princess ball gown style, the bodice reinforced with boning that nipped in my waist and came to a point near my belly button. The neckline was off the shoulder with a beaded collar, the sleeves a balloon style that came in tightly at my wrist with cuffs that were beaded to match. The skirts had been cut in an a-line style but were voluminous, and there had been a small bustle to bump out the back of the dress. Under the skirts I wore a hoop skirt and two layers of petticoats to soften the shape further. I spun happily with a smile, my skirts lifting slightly, and Swiss appeared to help steady me, while holding a familiar black antique silk netting.

“No…Swiss. No…” I whined, crossing my arms and stomping my foot like a child. “You can’t be serious, I don’t want to ruin this dress with that thing.”

“I’m sorry Sunshine, even the ascending Prime Mover has to follow the rules. You aren’t supposed to leave your room uncovered until after you’re bound.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as I glared at him.

“It’s gonna cover up my whole dress…” I grumbled as he came over with a sympathetic smile while gently draping the veil over me.

“You will look beautiful either way,” he laughed, smoothing the gossamer fabric over my head before offering me his arm. “I think the last thing Copia or Terzo will care about is a translucent veil over you.”

“I know…” I graciously took his arm as we headed out into the sitting room and met with the rest of the Siblings that would be accompanying us. “I’m just ready for things to get back to the way they were before, I’d never thought I’d say I miss my scrolls and translations but here we are…”

Unlike the other rituals, because of the informal nature of the ritual itself I didn’t have a huge procession. Instead, our little group was led by Sister Imperator on the arm of Papa Nihil, though one could make an argument that it was like he was on hers. Then it was the three Sisters of Sin from my ‘court’ dressed in formal full Sister robes, complete with white cowl and yoke. They all had their heads bowed slightly and hands together in front of them as if in prayer and after them was Swiss and I, dressed in our finery.

We finally arrived at the Council room where all those weeks ago I had first gained favor of His Darkness Below, a small smile on my face as the doors opened as we approached by two ghouls standing guard at the door. Inside was a lavish party in full swing, music playing and laughter in the air. There were formal seated tables, some small cocktail tables by the fireplace and windows, and a few little seating areas. There was a corner of the room set up with several buffet trays of mouth watering fresh food, and a small but well stocked bar. Only high ranking or specially selected members of the Clergy and Siblings had been permitted to join us out after curfew and everyone had on their nicest formalwear.

A few of the women wore their formal habits, however most wore a more subtle dress along the lines of what I was wearing. Most were taking advantage of the opportunity to wear something completely out of the norm, and the room was a symphony of the sounds of silk and swishing skirts. The men were dressed in different levels of formalwear. Some of the ranked Priests, Bishops and Cardinals were wearing their chausables with various belts and capes to indicate that they were, in fact, dressed up. Some, much like Copia and Terzo had when we first arrived, wore tight fitting trousers and snugly cut tailcoats. They all looked at me as I came into the room, all bowing their heads courteously at me.

“All hail Prime Mover Emeritus,” The hawker called from off to the side, and I blushed at the use of a formal title for me. Everyone repeated the line back as I made sure to hold my head high as they bowed and curtsied to me as I passed them.

Swiss and I followed Imperator over to the edge of the dance floor, where she turned back towards me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. I tried to hide the fact that I stepped closer to Swiss with her sudden change of face but blushed when she took my hand into hers.

“Sister, as you know you’ll be expected to dance with Copia and Terzo, but you’ll also be asked to dance with the other members of the Emeritus clan,” she explained, gesturing to the dance floor that had yet to be taken advantage of. “When Papa and Cardinal Copia arrive, you’ll be expected to open the dance floor with Papa and then Copia. After that, you’ll follow the family tree backwards. For now, let's get you something to eat.”

“Why do I feel like a show pony…” I mumbled at Swiss who had to hold back his laughter.

“Because, Sister, for this one week you are.” Sister Imperator smirked while gesturing to the table in the corner where Primo and Secondo already sat. “Your Multi Ghoul will serve you, sit and please keep the trouble to a minimum.”

“I didn’t realize I was your butler for the evening.” Swiss mumbled in my ear, causing me to chuckle as well as he helped me into my seat and tucked me in towards the table.

“Ah! Sorellina, are you having a good start to your evening?” Primo asked, a warm smile on his face as he slid closer to me and took my hand. “Mi fratellino and il Cardinale should be arriving shortly, they said they needed to go and get something first.”

As if on cue the large wooden doors swung open, everyone in the room turning their heads towards the sound and I had to hold back a gasp as my jaw fought to not hit the floor.

“All hail Cardinal Francesco Copia.” The hawker called out, my cheeks blushing at the use of his birth name before I watched him enter the room properly.

Copia had dressed in what I could only describe as a cross between military uniforms and a prince’s formalwear. He wore a high collar military dolman coat made of a deep red wool; it had gold rope frogging crossing back and forth across his chest and around his waist was a sash of black silk tied tightly. His coat also had gold rope epaulets, and a short black cape draped over his shoulder with more gold rope tying it on across his chest. He wore his customary black leather gloves along with white breeches so tight to his thick thighs it left nothing to the imagination. He wore knee high riding boots and looked every part of a dashing Prince from a foreign land ready to sweep me off my feet.

“Sunshine, you’re drooling.” Swiss teased as he came back with a small plate of food for me, my cheeks flushed bright red and I shoved him slightly as he sat next to me. I turned back as Copia bowed to the standing crowd who had clapped for his entry before repeating back to the hawker ‘All hail!’

“All hail, His Eminence; Papa Alessandro Terzo the Third. Long may he shepherd.”

My eyes moved from Copia’s blushing face to the doors as Terzo entered the celebration. If I had thought my jaw was on the floor for Copia, my stomach had fallen out of my ass as I took in Terzo.

He was dressed in all white; everything from his tailcoat to his breeches and gloves. Everything was accented with gold lace that caught the candlelight wonderfully. He wore a white brocade tailcoat with frogging and roping twisting back and forth, more complex and intricate that what Copia was wearing, the cuffs of his coat had the same decorative pattern but accented with complex gold spanish lace. He too had gold rope epaulets, with a few longer braids coming to loop on the button at his shoulder. Across his chest he had a silk sash with more gold piping, and over his heart he had a decorative grucifix medal made of gold and various red gems. Terzo’s pants were just as skin tight as Copia’s but had gold piping down the side seams and were tucked into his black riding boots. On his hands were his familiar white silk gloves, the only thing besides his papal paints that remained.

“Long may he shepherd.” was the enthusiastic cry around the room, men holding their cups high in a salute to Terzo, who was smirking and soaking in the attention.

“Amore,” Copia’s voice caught me off guard as I jumped and looked up at him. “Scusami, I did not mean to frighten you. I just wanted to come and see you before all the ceremonies started.”

“It’s okay Copia. I’m just happy to see you.” I smiled brightly as he took my hand and pressed a chaste kiss to my knuckles, his mustache faintly tickling my skin. I shivered at his lusty gaze as he took my body.

“Sei così bella stasera, Sorella.” He purred, kneeling slightly so he could lean closer to me as he spoke. “If only I could whisk you away from here and spend the night peeling every layer off one by one.”

“Copia…” I whispered to him, eyes transfixed with his mismatched gaze and leaning in slightly before someone cleared their throat. I looked up, slightly dazed, and blushed at Terzo’s mischievous smile.

“Ah, ah Cardinale. I believe Tesoro owes me a dance, si?” He spoke softly, his eyes locked on mine, as he offered his hand to me. “Shall we, Amore?”

“Of course, Terzo.” I said, taking his offered hand to stand but before he could lead me away I looked back at the starved look Copia was giving me and reached out to take his hand in mine. “Wait for me?I believe you are next on my dance card.”

“Si, Amore.” He chuckled, standing and bowing slightly to me before sitting in my now empty seat. “Watch for his walz, Terso is not the most aware where his feet are sometimes.”

“Bastardo compiaciuto, alcuni di noi non hanno preso lezioni di ballo…” Smug bastard, some of us did not get dance lessons… Terzo bit back, pausing to flip off Copia behind us before taking my arm and leading us out on the dance floor.

…

Just like Copia had warned, Terzo stepped on my toes during our walz.

While Terzo was curing Copia for jinxing him, I laughed and stepped closer to him as we slowed the dance from a more complicated walz to something more akin to swaying in each other’s arms. When the song came to a close Copia was already there, scooping me into his tight embrace and twirling us off with a smug smirk thrown in Terzo’s slightly pouty direction.

If dancing with Terzo felt like falling in love, sweet and tender, then dancing with Copia was like the throws of passionate sex. The man was so attuned with how to move his body and by extension my own, he made it all seem effortless as he gilded us around the dancefloor. He held me close, in ways I knew would make some of the older clergy clutch at their pearls, but I didn't care. It felt so good to be close with him again, the looks in his eyes and feeling of his hands on my body were like an aphrodisiac. I knew Swiss could feel the heat roaring in my belly if his squirming in his seat was anything to go off of.

All too soon our dance came to a close and he bowed deeply to me before passing my hand off to Secondo, who had been waiting for us to finish our dance with a bored expression on his face. It seemed like our time together was cracking that cold exterior however because as we begun to dance, a more simple one-two-three sort of movement, he couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

“You look molto felice, Sorellina. Joy is a good look for you.” He teased, which that alone was enough to make me laugh.

“Thank you…I think?” I questioned but my face was warm. “Thank you for letting me join your family, Secondo. If it wasn’t for you I’d never have known this happiness.”

“In a way, Sorella. I think I owe you my thanks.” He sighed, but he wore a smirk almost like Terzo’s mischievous one. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have had the perfect excuse to retire.”

“W-wait what?”

“They wanted me to marry you, as I was the reigning Papa at the time, but monogamy isn’t for me.” He chuckled, taking in my bewildered expression. “So I forced their hand, retired without real permission and gave Sister Imperator the biggest headache of her life. It was a win all round.”

“But did you want to retire?” I blurted, unable to help myself. “Why do all that for me?”

“Oh I did, I really did feel like I was getting too old for the Ghost Project rituals. But I was the one who had the vision and I knew it would have ment a lifetime of sharing my wife, something I am not willing to do.”

“But I thought you said monogamy wasn’t for you…”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. I am someone who prefers the company of beautiful women…only women. But Terzo? I knew he would be the perfect fit, so I retired. Its a win, win for all.” He smiled, something that look honestly out of place on his face as the song came to a close.

I was reeling from the confession, my head spinning. I gave some sort of grunt as a response, my cheeks enflamed, as he chuckled again and handed me off to Primo. “Congratulazioni ancora, Sorella.” He called back to me, waving his hand slightly as Primo and I spun off.

“Sorella, are you feeling well? You did not eat much.”

“I’m o-okay, Primo.” I stuttered, trying to shake off the brain fog and vivid image of Secondo draped under the limbs of multiple women. “Just thrown off I think.”

“So Secondo finally told you why he retired, eh?” Primo chuckled as we danced, despite his age he was agile and graceful like Copia. I looked at him like he had two heads before sputtering my response.

“D-did you know too?! Am I the only one finding out last?!”

“Sorellina you will soon learn there are no secrets in the Emeritus family, we all find out everything about each other. Some things are more willingly shared than others.”

“Does that mean you know anything about me from Terzo?”

“Well…”

“Oh god, what did he tell you?” I groaned, taking my hand from his shoulder to pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Terzo has a tendency to brag about things and well…he mentioned an incident involving the confessional booth back home…”

“I’m going to kill him.” I hissed, turning my icy stare back at Terzo who looked pale at the fury in my eyes before having the self preservation skills enough to look sheepish.

“Ah the virility of young love.” Primo chuckled and my face felt like it was on fire.

#ghost #the band ghost #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #copia x reader #copia x reader x terzo #copia x terzo #terzo x reader #cardinal copia #terzo emeritus #my writing #sinners in secret chapters

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eccentric-nucleus · 21 days

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like on the one hand i am very grateful for tag wranglers so that i can tag something Red XIII/Barret and have that joined up with the canonical tag of Red XIII | Nanaki/Barret Wallace but on the other hand literally nobody has ever used that canonical tag and it's so long. i think my favorite example of "why did they make this tag so long" is in pokemon: oh you want to tag something 'ash/gary'? no sorry i think you mean Ookido Shigeru | Gary Oak/Satoshi | Ash Ketchum. i swear i've seen some character tags with two or more |s in them. it's bad.

tag wrangling is basically the most technically-involved part of the ao3 codebase i think? i heard some people post about how maybe part of the issue is that having a tag that's heavily subtagged might stress the servers? and all the 'all media types' tags are exactly that. but idk that's just speculation

but anyway, all that gets into what's even a 'tag synonym', conceptually. there's a reason like no other CMS attempts to do anything like that. maybe some danbooru stuff? but even those tend to enforce canonical tags and just have huge webs of implied tags based on characters or w/e. but ao3's official policy is like, tag anything whatever you want and behind the scenes the wranglers will properly disambiguate your tags. it's kind of a wild approach to take

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sakumasmut · 2 years

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I'm currently having the most massive Mayoi brainrot right now. Can I request for Mayoi finding his girlfriend on their shared bed wearing his shirt trying to get off with her little fingers and moaning for his hands (his hands are so hot please Mayoi take your gloves off and let me suck on your fingers already) and his dick? Maybe he was too busy to meet her so she gets needy. Better if it's raw (ahhh to have sex raw with Mayoi...) During sex he plans to pull out when he's about to release but it's too good so she just lets him do it inside anyways. Thank you!

Mayoi Ayase x Fem!Reader

tags/warnings: masturbation, fingering, vaginal sex, semi clothed sex, finger sucking

ao3 link

“A-Ah, Mayoi…”

You whined out your boyfriend’s name as your fingers dipped past your folds and into your wetness. You wore one of his button ups over your shoulders, the fabric clinging to your back and arms, soaked in your sweat. If only he knew how badly you wanted him at this moment. Mayoi was always busy with idol work, but after a few days in a row of him coming home late, you were feeling particularly needy.

You could just imagine his slender fingers in place of your own, reaching farther into you than you were able to by yourself. He would curl his digits against your muscles just right, before adding another to properly stretch you out. You did as such to go with your fantasy, whining and bucking your hips. Pretending wasn’t enough, you needed him to actually be fingering you. You needed him to make you come undone, and then when he was finished with his hands, you’d want him to press your body against the mattress before sliding his long cock inside your cunt to fill you up completely. Just the thought made you moan louder.

“Mayoi…”

You moved one of your hands to play with your breasts, rolling them in your palm and pinching your nipple while you fucked yourself onto your other hand. If only he were here, pleasuring you with his own hands.

“A-Anh, I need you! Fuck me, shove your cock inside me…”

“/N-Name/?”

Your entire body froze as your eyes turned towards the now opened door, locking with surprised blue eyes. Mayoi’s face immediately turned red, incomprehensible stutters coming from his mouth while he frantically tried to cover his face with his hands.

“I-I’m sorry!! I should have knocked!”

You blushed hard and pulled your fingers out of yourself, not expecting to have actually been caught masturbating. You kind of hoped that he didn’t hear you moaning his name, but at the same time…would it really be a bad thing if he did?

“I-I’ll just, w-wait on the couch until you’re d-done—”

“No!” You blurted out much too fast. Who cares if you sounded desperate, you absolutely were! “I mean, um, want to join me?”

“I-Is that okay?”

He peeked through the gaps of his gloves, and you noticed a tent in his pants had already formed. All the more reason to finally make him take care of your urges.

“Well, I didn’t get to finish, so you should help me.”

Mayoi nodded, and closed the door before cautiously approaching the bed. It was when he lowered his hands back down and took a seat next to you that he finally noticed what you were wearing.

“Uh, i-is that my shirt?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” You awkwardly laughed as you tugged on a sleeve, though it simply clung back to your sweat-soaked skin.

“I kind of…missed you.”

“R-Really?” He perked up, before his expression turned to one of panic.

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you?! But I watch you while you sleep every night! I-I mean—”

“Mayoi, you’ve done nothing wrong! You’ve just been busy with idol work, and it doesn’t always line up with my own schedule, so there’s been no time for…other things.”

You pressed a hand to his chest, letting your fingers dance on the cloth of his shirt.

“But you’re here now. So let’s make up for it, m’kay?”

Your hands moved downwards, gliding across his stomach until you reached his crotch. You then worked on unzipping his pants, eager to free his erection. His hands met yours, helping you to undo the restraints of his belt. You pulled his underwear down, allowing his semi-erect member to spring up, free from its confines. You couldn’t help but lick your lips, craving for that same cock to be inside you as soon as possible. You crawled into his lap, legs spread over his own to position your soaked entrance over his tip. Mayoi seemed to be holding his breath, and you paused in your movements to check on him.

“Am I going too fast?”

“Y-Yes—I mean no, er, I-I mean…a-anything you want is fine!”

You sighed, cupping his face with one of your hands to get him to look at you.

“Just don’t be afraid to tell me to stop.”

“O-Okay…” Mayoi nodded, calming down as you felt his breathing slow. You lowered yourself onto him, his dick parting your folds and easily sliding in thanks to how wet you already were. The ache you were trying to scratch finally felt relieved, the way his cock was stretching you out so much better than what your fingers and imagination could provide. A pleased sigh left your lips, and you moved back and forth to take more of him in. This was just the start though, it was time to really get what you wanted.

You began to bounce on his dick, pushing your hips up then back down to engulf his length. Mayoi carefully timed his thrusts to meet your hips as you rolled them back, trying not to make you do all the effort. His hands were on your hips, keeping you steady and making sure you didn't accidentally fall off him.

“Mayoi…” you mewled, “kiss me.”

He obliged, moving one hand to cup your cheek and leaning forward to meet your lips. The touch of rough leather on your skin contrasted with the sharp teeth that grazed your lower lip. He shyly prodded at your mouth with his tongue, and you eagerly granted him entry, sucking and moaning as he pressed his tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your hips continued to grind against him, letting him thrust in and out of you.

Mayoi pulled away with a gasp a moment later, your mouth still open and drooling. You were about to lean in for another kiss before you felt his other hand leave your hip and touch your cheek. Suddenly, he shoved his thumb into your mouth, making you instinctively close your lips around it in surprise. When did he take his other glove off? You weren’t against it though, and began to suck on it gently, panting as your saliva coated his long fingers.

“Y-You feel so good!” Mayoi stammered out, letting his hips move uncontrollably to match your quickening rhythm. “Your body is just amazing! I can’t believe I get to have it like this…”

You just moaned in response, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as you let him do more of the work. This was everything you wanted and more, thank the gods Mayoi had walked in on you.

“A-Ah, /name/, I-I need to pull out, I-I’m going to—”

Oh no he wasn’t. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trapping him in place. Mayoi let out a squeak as his thrusts stilled, and you smiled, pulling your face away from his thumb to talk properly.

“You can do it inside, I like the feeling.”

“B-but—”

“Mayoi, cum inside me, now.”

Apparently that simple command was all it took for him to lose his composure. He shut his eyes and gave you a few hard thrusts before he moaned your name, gripping your ass tightly as you felt something warm flood your insides. You shuddered and let your walls clench around his cock, your own orgasm milking the seed out of him.

You felt his warm, laboured breaths against your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around you now. You patted him comfortingly on the back until his breathing slowed and he raised his head to face you again. A heavy blush covered his skin, and you pressed your equally warm forehead against his.

“Mm, I missed you.” You giggled, and Mayoi gave you a toothy smile back.

#enstars smut #enstars x reader smut #ensemble stars smut #mayoi ayase smut #request #nsft es!!

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ashyronfire · 1 year

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White & Gray || Prologue - We'll Be Lost Before The Dawn

Title: Prologue - We'll Be Lost Before The Dawn Rating: M Characters: The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel (x2), Hornet, The Pale King, Herrah (+ more, tbh) Warnings: Introspect-Heavy, Found Family, THK is Not Nice, Angst/Depression, PTSD-based dissociation at times, Trauma Bonding, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Self-Harm, Suicide/Suicidal Ideology, Off-Screen Suicide, Post-Dream No More Ending

Summary:

In defiance of death. In defiance of light. In defiance of space. In defiance of time. Void: potential without limit. To recreate. To undo the mistakes of the past. To alter the course of history. To rewrite the past, there is no cost too great. Tell me you will live through this and I will die for you. Through trick of void or twist of fate, the Hollow Knight is sent back to the beginning, to a time when Hallownest had yet to fall. To save themselves. To change their own destiny. And perhaps to grant Hallownest a kinder fate as well...

Author's Note: Hi! This fic was my big project and is my pride and joy. It's coming close to a year old. When I first released W&G, I didn't have a Tumblr - so only 2/3s of the chapters got linked here. I was also too shy to crosspost it here properly. After AO3 being DDoSed recently, and with this fic's one year anniversary coming up, I decided to be brave and start posting it once a week here for those who want to read but don't particularly feel like going to AO3 for whatever reason.

That being said, this fic is finished. The entirety of it can be read on Ao3 as-is (if you'd rather binge), or you can read it here with its weekly updates. You can also find the fanart that it has received under this blog's tag of w&g. The tag w&g fanfic will be for the actual fic.

(Also, sorry to people who read it who may not want this fic on your dash. Promise I'm not gonna spam. <3)

Prologue ||

Needlepoints of ivory lit up a place light dared not venture. They came in pairs: one, two, three, four, and then the numbers increased so rapidly that it was impossible to keep count. No two were exactly alike in shape, and yet they were so alike that the average viewer would be unable to tell them apart. An amalgamation of shadow woven into form not-fully-solid and never meant to be, they were silent. Their screams needed no sound to resonate from the furthest reaches of creation to a world they were never meant to tread.

They came.

They came to the one with ashen form. With bone. To the solid one who dared to ascend to the heavens. Who climbed higher and higher, whose shadow was at once darker than theirs and more tangible.

They rose from their darkness, from the place forgotten by time and all who came before. There was no call. There needn’t be one. There were no words, for there was no use for those, either.

They came for the blinding light filling the morning, painting the sky golden, yellow, orange.

Higher. Higher.

They were hungry . They hungered for her.

She screamed. The sound was deafening; it was rage given voice and it echoed throughout all of creation, as far as the light touched – but the light did not touch everything, and that scream of rage could not pierce the darkness rising up from beneath the world, into a realm that it had never touched. The void did not dream. The void simply existed: kindness and cruelty, malice and delight, the great vacuum. Without hopes and aspirations, it could not enter to her world, and at its basest form, the void had none of these things.

But one had given it something . One had given it purpose: single-minded devotion to duty, to instruction. Seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams.

The one with form climbed. They followed. The great black wave stained all that it touched as it cascaded, rolling along the mountain’s edge to follow like a beacon. She flew higher into the sky, to escape the rising of that dark tide. She could not get higher enough. There was no height it could not ascend; that they could not guide it.

Great tendrils of darkness shot out, gripped and pulled. She screamed again and tore herself free.

More eyes lifted. Watching, impassive. She was terrified. It did not care. She was screaming for escape. It felt nothing at all.

The tidal wave could not be stopped once it had begun, and it began long ago: the moment that another creature entered that vast emptiness and left something alive within. The earthquake took the form of an egg filled with the essence of wyrm and root, the eye of the storm.

The one given form followed. It gave chase and the great sea wove the path it tread. Up, higher and higher.

Great tendrils shot out, then, and wrapped around her. One broke off from the mass, a pair of eyes lit up by lightning scar hued in gold. It grabbed her by the face, held her face and pulled her into its claws. It felt. The sea did not; the sea was impassive. It was not . It was angry. It was scared. It was filled with a terrible determination. She screamed and this time it was personal: aimed at that one, that shadow that held her fast in its claws with no intent of letting go. Or perhaps the scream was at the one before her.

The sound of shell breaking was sickening; cracks like bone, discarded, forgotten. The one with form became formless, and yet it did not dissolve into the sea, into the rest of them. The void answered its command as it launched an assault at the weakness exposed by the other one. The slashes were rapid, vicious, soundless, and yet somehow they drowned out her defiant, desperate pleas - not words, more feral, more animalistic. The last shriek of an era dying, before being whisked away into sweet, unending silence.

Her light exploded around it and then the tidal wave broke.

All that remained was the dark.

And words.

Words in a voice it heard once, so long ago. They were faint, and yet they resonated just the same. One among the mass was pained. One among the mass hurt to hear them. A memory, then, a place so long ago.

Yours is the power opposed.

But yours is potential, eternity potential, force that could defy Time.

Would the one without form simply cease to be? Its task was done. It could rest.

The void did not know conflict of emotions. The void did not know emotions at all. And yet one among it knew conflict: one among it knew emotions. One in the mass knew pain, regret, sorrow, anger, hatred, betrayal. One in the mass knew love , that terrible ruin that spelled its own undoing. Those words evoked that feeling, strange and uncomfortable, and what one felt, all felt: a pain without cease and a lack of understanding. A question, then, churning within the storm.

It saw her, a figure in scarlet cut from the same cloth as the one with form. It receded, but it saw her walk to the broken, discarded shell and look at it, and that question grew louder still.

Yours is potential, eternity potential, force that could defy Time.

Defy time.

W h y.

Hornet.

That was her name.

The void did not feel. The void had no need of names; of identities; of personalities. The void was one great mass, as simple as the sea, perhaps at times turbulent but never feeling. Impassive, eroding and changing, shaping the world in its wake and unstoppable, manipulated by the tides of others but never deliberate in its actions.

It knew her, though, for the one given form had known her, and the one who knew pain knew her.

It knew her.

“Thank you, little ghost,” she said, and it heard her as the waves receded. It heard her and it was filled with a great terrible sensation: emotions unwelcome in the vacuum of its being.

There was regret. There was sorrow. There was confusion. There was a wish.

Defy time.

W h y.

Afloat; one of them was afloat, separate. No, not one. Two. Two were afloat. The others had been absorbed back into it, from whence they came, to sleep as they had before the disruption, their great duty fulfilled. But two were adrift in their sea together. The one with form. The one who knew pain, who knew fear. It was that fear that kept it from rejoining the waves: that fear and an overwhelming sense of regret.

Why. Why. Why. Why.

It could be undone. The one with form knew this to be fact. All could be unwritten. It was limitless potential. It needed only gentle guidance. It could be undone. It could retain its form. The one who knew fear could get an answer to the burning question. Would it change destiny? Was that truly its wish? There were some questions to which the answer would only hurt.

It knew pain intimately. It did not know answers.

But it could be given them, for the void was unlimited potential: a force that could defy even time itself, should it will it. It did not understand the fixation. It did not understand why it mattered. Those who had spoken those cursed words were long gone. Those who had woken it from its slumber were long gone. Its mission, its objective, was fulfilled. The sea was able to return to its banks and be undisturbed once more. It had accomplished what it set out to do. Yet the two remained among a whole, unique, distinct: individual, where individuals were not meant to be.

The sea gave a violent shudder. The air was thick with darkness. It crept from that cursed prison, receding through the cracks in ground, through the space between where nothing lived and nothing died, through to a place where everything and nothing was one.

Back to where it came from.

Defy time.

Why. Why. Why?

Did it truly matter so much? Was it truly that important, that it could not return to peace without knowing?

Then it would know.

Void tendrils stirred. Shining white eyes lifted, meeting a pair so like its own, and yet so different. Two individuals in a blanket of the same: two distinct, where none should be. There would be more pain this route, but it was accustomed to pain, it knew pain like a lover, and it was not afraid anymore. In doing this, it would forever change things. It would change the existence of the whole. The one given form might not exist. The one who knew pain might not exist. It needed to know. It needed an answer. It could not rest.

Then it would know.

Defy time.

What form it took would be up to it. The shells were all broken. There was not one to contain it. There would be complications. None would understand. It still wished it. The hands of time were in fluctuation. It was intimately acquainted with fear, yet it knew fear all over again: the unknown was a variable it had not entirely accounted for, but it would not undo it.

The void sea rose in waves. Those white eyes of its sibling, form and unity, met its own. It watched, impassive. The instruction was unspoken and yet implicitly understood: this would change everything. There would be no third chance. There would be no unraveling the threads of fate from here. Was this still its wish, knowing that there would be no coming back? That it would never see the fruits of its labors? That even if it got its answers, even if it succeeded, it may never actually know what came to pass? Unwritten. Let it be unwritten, then. Let it start anew.

The cost would be great.

It was afraid. It had walked into fear before.

Defy time.

Remember us.

The one with form tilted its head very slowly. Watched, with those same strange eyes. There was a tension in the air then, as the waves churned into a maelstrom. The same tendrils that had pulled her down to her ruin wove around it but unlike her, it did not struggle. It embraced the darkness and all that it offered. Limitless potential. Defiance of time.

To start again. To rewind the fabric of reality.

To find out.

#ashe writes #w&g fanfic #hk fanfic #hollow knight fanfic #hollow knight #hk thk #hk pure vessel

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thatwouldbee-enough · 9 months

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😅🎢🎶🛠⛔🌞❌💲🧐🎃🦅👀🤗💞🤲😬⌛ anyfandom!

Ahhhh thank you so much for this! Sorry it took a while there were so many to answer <3

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Anything from the very very early days of my AO3 account lol. They weren't bad but there's definitely so many things when I go back and read them where I would write things a lot differently now

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oh man. Interpreting wildest ride in two different ways here.

1 (craziest/most disturbing): Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind

2 (wild ride plot-wise): Fate and the Fall

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yes!!! Some songs from recent writing playlists:

this is me trying by Taylor Swift

The Cause by Tommy Lefroy

Paul Revere by Noah Kahan

reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine

Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius

Partners in Crime by FINNEAS

tolerate it by Taylor Swift

Colorado by Renee Rapp

You Could Start a Cult by Niall Horan w/Lizzy McAlpine

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

So many 😬

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Honestly either early in the morning right after I wake up or middle of the night lmao. Middle of the night has given me some of my best writing for real but at what cost

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

I don't like to say never on any tropes because I think with the right idea any trope can be done well. Some things that I tend to stay away from are heavy mental health fix it style stories because 1) I don't feel qualified enough to write that well and 2) I don't find them super interesting usually. Exploring darker storylines is always more fun for me, or mayyyybe the occasional fluffy romance lol

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

For fanfiction based on someone else's intellectual property, no, because there are legal issues there. For writing in general maybe, but I don't see a huge market for that

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Way too much time

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Occasionally! Maybe Sleigh Bells Ring for a favorite. Most of the holiday pieces I've written have been very fluffy lol

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

It's a mix. Usually seat of my pants, but if I have a lot of details worked out in my brain already then I'll outline

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I have a TBOSAS piece that I'm working on where Coriolanus's punishment after cheating in the Games is to be sold as a sex worker (similar to how Finnick was in THG series) rather than being forced to enlist with the peacekeepers and he ends up with Strabo Plinth as a client.......

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I cannot recommend enough just... doing it. Everyone worries so much about it not being good enough, but just like every other skill, you'll never get better without practice and just doing the damn thing over and over again.

Also read a lot. Read fanfic and actual books. You pick up a lot of things as a writer when you're reading other people's work. Sometimes you'll see certain ways of writing dialogue or inner monologues that you love and want to incorporate into your own writing. Sometimes you'll see things that pull you out of the story or don't flow well, and you'll learn that it's something you don't want to include in your writing. All of it is useful.

And MOST importantly, please please please learn how to properly format your dialogue 😭 (this is just a pet peeve of mine, but SO MANY fics don't have proper dialogue formatting)

ex: "This is the correct way to format a spoken sentence," she said sternly. "When you write a spoken sentence followed by a dialogue tag, the dialogue tag is PART of the sentence, so you should end the 'spoken sentence' with a comma, and then add the dialogue tag (starting with a lower case letter if it's not a proper noun), and then the sentence ends."

"This is correct too!" she exclaimed.

"This is also correct," she explained, "because the dialogue sentence hasn't ended, it was just interrupted. When dialogue is interrupted, but the sentence hasn't ended, the dialogue tag is surrounded by commas, indicating a whole, ongoing sentence."

INCORRECT EXAMPLES:

"This is not the correct way to format a spoken sentence." She said, crying a little bit on the inside.

"Neither is this!" She exclaimed.

"And neither is this." she sighed, rubbing at her temples as intentionally writing dialogue incorrectly began to trigger a headache.

💞 Who's your comfort character?

For Hamilton/Amrev, it's probably Hamilton. Sorry, basic bitch answer.

For TBOSAS it's Sejanus <3

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

A snippet from the TBOSAS AU with Coriolanus and Strabo Plinth that I mentioned above 🙈

But fighting? Fleeing? He thought back to the arena. The way his heart had pounded as he smashed at Bobbin until he laid unmoving on the ground. He refused to let that sort of response control him again. He was better than base instincts. Especially here. This wasn’t life or death. All he had to do was play things smart, and he would come out on top again eventually. And then everyone who ever tried to make him feel small would pay.

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

Literally any of the smut lmfao.

But specifically the Henry Laurens/Alexander Hamilton fucked up intern AU, Let Me Crawl Up Into Your Mind, and A Royal Affair are probably all up there for top contenders

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Highly dependent on a lot of different variables (what I'm writing/whether it requires research/what else is going on in my life/level of motivation and focus/etc). Anywhere from a couple of hours to a month lmao

#writing #ask game #asks #thank you!!!

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quidfree · 2 years

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Really, I seem to bump into princess Todoroki fics everywhere, it's bad enough in tdbk and don't even get me started on dkbk, over there Deku seems to punch Endeavor in the face and rescue Shouto like he's some damsel in distress like 85% of the time. And it's recently gaining a lot of traction in tdbk, there's a literal "Bakugou Katsuki calls Todoroki Shouto Princess" tag on ao3, like an actual, searchable, tag.

Anyway, didn't mean to rant but this thing has just got me frustrated so I just decided to reread the few good fics that I already have.

~ Cat (That ranty anon from before)

cat, i am very sorry for the horrors you have encountered. trust and believe i am highly selective in what i read bc i have never even seen that tag.

i find tddk boring in general (no hate, just taste) but i can sort of see the whole “midoriya helping todoroki come to terms w his abuse” angle. however, midoriya jumping endeavour to rescue todoroki? what in the kdrama?

shouto honey i’m sorry that you’re simply too cool and interesting for fandom to characterise properly…

#qui parle #qui repond #cat #todoroki

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habeascorpseus · 2 years

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im curious, what do you consider ooc for grian? i agree w you completely but i would like to know 👁👁

ohoho *takes a BIG sip of my 5 hour energy and slams it on my bedside stool*

okay, so i HOPE this doesnt become a big old rant, because i really should sleep, but, the thing people misunderstand about him MOST, which therefore sort of branches into most other mischaracterizations i see with his character, is that he's not an asshole.

he's also not not an asshole.

here's what i mean: grian's moral compass is looser than a door without hinges, but his honor, and the honor of others, holds priority. in season 8 during the boatem prank war with big eyes, he aptly called his policy, "prank hard, clean up harder."

for the more innocuous offenses he commits, like pranks, and minor amounts murder, he will almost always feel bad and offer to help clean up if he feels like what he did is "too much." "too much" is dependent on circumstance, but most often it includes permanent loss of valubles- like armor, large amounts of resources, and hard to obtain items- which he will attempt to replace or make up for with helping the unfortunate recipient of his ill-fated prank with chores. "too much" also includes griefing and base editing whether it be accidental or on purpose- most notable examples being in season 7 when keralis discovered the "removing stuff from keralis' base" challenge, and rebuilding part of scar's base in season 8 after accidentally getting it blown up. if he feels like it's even partially his fault, he'll almost always offer to help fix the mess, even if he does complain about it the entire way though.

so he likes to fuck with people- he doesnt like permanent damage. that doesnt mean he doesnt occasionally want to cause permanent damage, such as in the life series, but he also often needs a reason to cause damage like losing lives or permadeath.

renchanting trap? scar wasn't doing his job properly as the only red life. tnt base trap? home no longer safe, revenge for pizza. killing jimmy and mumbo in last life? they provoked him and were reaping the consequences. killing bigb and ren in double life? they provoked him by (to his knowledge) being the cause of scar's death as a yellow life. no matter what death grian has personally called in the life series, either before or after it took place, you can find an instance of grian saying why he felt he needed to do it. and if the death is accidental, or accidental collateral damage, he tries to make up for it with his time and energy. (like with the physical objects.)

i see a lot of fics on ao3 with the tag "grian is an asshole in this one, sorry", and i dont normally read those, because those just leave a bad taste in my mouth- but i also see a lot of fics unintentionally write grian as more of a jerk because they forget he abides by honor. its not that grian isnt a murderer, its that he needs a reason to do it- or he'll excuse it after the fact with a reason. its not that grian isnt reckless with other people's lives, its that if he realizes the damage he causes is permanent he balks at doing it. its not that grian isnt an asshole, its that he likes to piss off people but wouldn't dream of purposefully damaging his friendships. grian, as a character, is defined by his willingness to push boundaries and his hesitance to cross the line. and far too often, people forget these two coexisting facts, and write grian as only being one or the other.

again, this is all mostly opinion and writing advice, and ive read fics where grian was ooc that i still enjoyed. but also sometimes you just look at a fandom and you're like "wow youre so valid but youre also wrong!" and occasionally i do be feeling that. in the end what matters is that the fic was fun to write, and the rant resulting from that is also fun to write. goodnight all,

#asked and answered #habeas speaks #spacemanxephos #not character tagging this #writing crit #i guess?#anyway

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metize · 3 years

Text

Behave.

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Yagami Light/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Praise Kink, Yagami Light is Kira, L is reader's brother, but no one's supposed to know, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Blackmail, Coercion, Sexual Coercion, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, 'good girl's, AFAB reader - Freeform, Misogyny, Workplace Sex, Desk Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, this is filthy, I'm so sorry, Manipulation, Top Yagami Light, Jealousy

A/N: Filth! Absolute dirt! I'm the Trash Man! I come out, I throw trash all over AO3, and then I start eating garbage! Enjoy.

"You seem to get along very well with L."

You could practically feel your heart stop when Light said that. You felt so stupid, of course, this guy would figure it out. You tried your best to look unfazed while you panicked on the inside. The black-haired detective and you were trying to keep it a secret from the task force that you were siblings. You cursed Ryuzaki internally, he had been acting kind of protective towards you and it was bound to raise suspicion.

“You think so? I’ve just been trying to be on good terms with everyone.” You deflected.

The investigation room was empty save for the two of you, there was a single monitor showing the news broadcast reporting on the most recent Kira murder. You focused back on the files you were sorting through. Your older brother never cared much for organizing and that drove you mad. You glanced in Light’s direction again, he was staring at you, his gaze sent shivers down your spine, you just forced an awkward smile.

"Did you let him fuck you yet?" He deadpanned.

"W-What the fuck? Of course not!" You answered abruptly. You were offended that Light would even ask something like that. The crude way he said it too, made you blush in embarrassment. You found it weird he'd say something like that, usually Light was nothing short of a gentleman when addressing you.

"Don't get coy all of a sudden. Just admit you two are fucking already." He sounded annoyed now. He got up and got closer to your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. You sometimes felt intimidated in his presence, now in the middle of the night, alone with him towering over you, this feeling increased tenfold.

"T-that's disgusting! Why are you even saying that? We're just… we're just friends, coworkers who get along, whatever!" You started to crack under the pressure.

Light brows furrowed for a second and then his eyes widened in revelation. A grin formed on his face and he burst into laughter like he had finally gotten the punchline to a joke. His laughter was scary, loud and almost maniacal. You didn't know how to react exactly so you looked at him nervously and confused.

Did he believe you? Did he find the misunderstanding funny? Was that it? You hoped that was it. You offered a weak smile as his laughter died down.

"I was so caught up in this… obsession… this feeling of jealousy… ah. It was obvious all along. You're siblings. Siblings!" He shook his head smiling "This is pathetic. You're becoming such a nuisance with your distraction."

He figured it out, of course it had only been a matter of time. But that realization took way too long for his liking. He was blinded by the rage of the idea of L having you and he didn't stop to consider any other possibilities.

"Excuse me? I didn't-" You got up and started to retort his rude comment.

"Shut the fuck up." And you did so out of shock. Light wasn't like this normally, he was relatively courteous and nice. Why was he so… brutish all of a sudden? He smiled at your obedience. "Good girl."

The praise felt so dirty, you frowned at him. Being infantilized was something you were used to dealing with in the workplace, being surrounded by older men. But Light was pretty much your age, what was he thinking?

You didn't have time to wonder because the man grabbed your collar and pulled you into a kiss.

You tried to push him away instinctively and ask what the fuck he was doing, but Light grabbed your wrists. He held them so tightly it almost marked your skin. Your lips were still closed so he bit them to make you part them. He kissed you aggressively as if he was punishing you for something. his tongue entered your mouth deepening the kiss and claiming your mouth for himself.

He tasted like coffee and sin.

"God, and I thought fucking L's girlfriend was a good idea, this is way better." He sounded extremely amused. "I wonder how is he going to react when he finds out I fucked his pretty little sister?"

Ryuzaki had always had a bad feeling about Light, he mentioned you should be careful around him, you knew all that and here you were. You thought he was being overprotective, to be fair Light wasn't the first guy L had a bad feeling about.

Light's hand was now caressing your hair, smiling content with your current predicament and very proud of himself.

"We… w-we can't." You tried to come up with an excuse. "We work together, so it would be-"

"I am Kira."

You heart stopped when you heard those words. Everything started connections in your head, every lead, every tip, every death. You still had many questions, some things didn't make sense, but as you stood there looking at that man's face it was clear that he wasn't joking.

"W-why are you… telling me this?" You tried to back away slowly. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

"Because I feel like keeping you to myself." He smiled sinisterly, every step back you took he stepped forward to approach you again "I was contemplating killing you after pounding your cunt, but I told myself I deserved a little treat."

Hearing him talking about murdering you in cold blood activated your flight instinct immediately. You turned away and rushed towards the door, but as soon as you tried to twist the doorknob and open the door, it was locked. You twisted the knob again and again, desperately trying to unlock it with sheer willpower.

“Stop that, you’re smarter than this.” You heard his voice right against your ear, his hands now grabbing your waist and caressing you through the fabric of your blouse. “There’s only one way you leave this room” he placed a kiss on your neck and you shivered despite yourself “with my cum leaking down your thighs” he grabbed your throat suddenly “and invisibly leashed to me, like a good little pet.”

You were shaking, incredibly aware of Light's bulge pressing against your ass, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt and the other still holding your neck possessively.

"Are we clear, pet?"

You felt his grip tighten a bit so you just quickly nodded your head. It showed to be the wrong answer, because you were punished with a sharp swat to your ass.

"Use your damn words, there's a reason I chose not to gag you." He grabbed your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Say 'Yes, master'."

He was a sick fuck. You wanted to scream at him and call him exactly that. You wanted to push him away and go home already. But god damn it, you wanted to survive this.

"Yes… m-master."

He smiled at your obedience and his grin made you sick to your stomach. He placed a kiss on your temple and pat your hair gently.

"There you go, good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned you around quickly and pushed your back against the door. His mouth was on yours again, his hands slipped under your shirt and you shivered feeling his cold touch on your skin. The fabric was restraining his hands so he grew frustrated and started to undress you at once.

"Y-you don't… have to do this, Light. I promise I won't tell anyone, just let me go and-"

"Don't waste your breath. You'll need it when I get to choke you properly…" he answered simply, amused by your perseverance, all the while looking forward to breaking it. "I want to fuck you, so I'm going to do it. I have the whole world in my hands and it's not a little pet that's going to deny me what I want. Understood?"

He tossed your shirt on the floor and started pulling your pencil skirt up. He glared at you for not answering and you promptly spoke up.

"Understood."

He smirked. You felt his fingers trace your slit over your panties, you shuddered and instinctively tried to move away.

"Don't fucking move." His other hand grabbed your waist holding you in place. His tone was harsh and you were so fucking scared.

"Sorry"

"I'm sure you are… Good girl, at least you have manners." He chuckled at that. "Not that your decency matters, look how wet you are for your master…"

He stroked the wet fabric to emphasize his point and you tried to hold back a moan, but it was useless. It felt good, of course it felt good. Light was a hot guy, he obviously knew his way around someone's body and you were only human. His lips captured yours again and he kept playing with your clothed sex as you made out. You could swear you were going insane, the pleasure of his hands on you was intoxicating and his mouth on yours had you gasping for air.

"Get on your knees. Now."

You needed to survive this, you needed to be useful to him. The way he ordered you around did excite you but you needed to stay focused. You were not supposed to feel good, you were supposed to find a way out of this situation.

For now that meant kneeling before Light as he pulled out his cock for you.

You gulped as you eyed him, of course Light Yagami had a big dick, you had to have suspected it. But now you had to give him head and you knew very well he wasn't going to go easy on you. He saw your hesitation and scoffed in amusement.

"Go ahead pet, you want to prove to me you're worth keeping around don't you?" He smiled devilishly at you.

"Yes, master." You murmured and licked your lips. You could do this. And, in a weird way, you kind of wanted to do this, you wanted him to praise you more, to call you a good girl again… you repressed the thought. This is disgusting, Light is disgusting and a murderer. You were strong you won’t fall for his games.

You grabbed his cock by its base and started to gently suck the tip. You looked up at him before taking the whole shaft into your mouth. You sucked him off to the best of your, limited, abilities, trying to get him deeper with each bob of your head. Maybe if he came in your mouth he wouldn’t touch you further, maybe he’d let you go.

Your hopeful thoughts are interrupted by the man’s hand grabbing your hair forcefully, you looked at him and he was grinning like the maniac he was.

“Sit still, let me use your throat a little bit.” His voice was unshaken. You felt a bit annoyed he didn’t seem phased by your efforts. You didn’t have time to dwindle on that feeling because Light was grabbing your face and fucking your mouth as soon as he finished his phrase.

His pace was unrelenting and you felt your spit dribbling down your chin, you tried to breathe in small intervals and you could see him laugh at your predicament. You felt rage but he slowed down his thrusts and started petting your head. Like a kid. Like a pet.

“That’s a good girl, such an obedient little pet…” he breathed and pulled out “Bend over your desk for me.”

Fuck. You were out of breath, you could only nod and do as he said. You didn’t even think of disobeying his order, he praised you again, you were doing a good job… You got up and rested your torso on the desk. He was going to fuck you. Light was Kira and he was blackmailing you into submission. This was an absolute nightmare. So why the fuck were you so turned on?

“You know where you belong, don’t you, pet?” You felt his presence behind you and he pulled down your panties. “Not above anyone, not next to your brother… Not even by my side.” He pulled your hair and you yelped despite yourself “You belong under me.”

He entered you forcefully and you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the intrusion, he didn’t prepare you with his fingers, he didn’t touch you properly at all, it hurt and he knew. But he didn’t give a fuck.

“You should be grateful to your master, whore.” His hand reached around your neck his grip making you gasp. “Tell me you can be obedient.”

“I can!” You cried and you felt his other hand reach between your legs to press your sensitive bud.

“You think you can be useful? Do you think you deserve to live to serve your master?” His thrusts were getting harsher and he groaned “Do you?!”

“Yes, master, please, master!” You begged. To cum, to live, anything. Light held your life in his hands and you were so scared, but so turned on.

“You better....” He grunted and kept on rubbing your clit “I fucking own you. I’m going to cum inside you, going to make you my breeding bitch.”

Oh no. That wasn’t good. That was a bad idea.

“N-no… please not inside” You heard him laugh at your resistance.

“Then tell me… tell me his name.” His name? Fuck. Ryuzaki.

You couldn’t tell him his name. Was he going to kill you if you didn’t? You couldn’t do it. You sobbed and grasped his arm in fear.

“No, I can’t, I can’t!” You cried out shaking your head. The pleasure was overwhelming and you came on his fingers screaming. “I can’t! Ah!”

You saw stars, Light never stopped pounding you as he laughed maniacally at your desperation.

“Know your fucking place… useless cunt.... Fuck-” His laughter died down and he pulled you closer as he came inside you.

You felt his spent dripping down your pussy, you trembled both from the orgasm and from fear of what came next. Light pulled out and turned you around, smiling amused at your scared face.

“Don’t worry, pet, of course I wasn’t counting on a dumb slut like you telling me this information…” He pat your head and you stood there with tears rolling down your face “You’re beneath me, I don’t need you, I don’t need your help. I’ll find out eventually.” He chuckled and wiped away your tears “But I do know your name. So you better behave.” He kissed your forehead. “Won’t you, pet?”

#smut fic #x reader #light yagami x reader #light yagami x y/n #light yagami x you #light yagami smut #light yagami imagine #light yagami headcanons

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randomprose · 3 years

Text

moshang drabble i did on twitter!

tags: royalty au, childhood friends to lovers, “don’t touch him. he’s mine.”

—

Mobei Jun was forced to attend the banquet. He didn’t want to but his father said it would be disrespectful to not show up for the crown prince’s birthday. So here is now tucked in a secluded balcony waiting for the night to end.

“This sucks,” a voice beside him says and Mobei Jun whips his head to come face to face with the crown prince himself. “So much for a party for me. Pbbbt.”

Was he not just seated at the seat of honor? How did he—how was he able to get past the king and queen and all the guards?

“Oh, hey! I know you!” The crown prince perks up seeing as he’s sharing the balcony with someone else. “You’re from the Mobei clan right? Ahaha! Silly question! You clearly are with the insignia on your forehead. It’s very pretty by the way! Very cool!”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

With the way he looked sitting stone-faced at the throne earlier, Mobei Jun didn’t think the crowned prince could be this friendly.

“Hey.” Mobei Jun feels him nudge his shoulders. “Wanna ditch this boring party? I know a place we can hide. We can get cakes from the kitchens on the way! I promise we’ll go back before anyone finds out. Don’t wanna get us in trouble you know?”

He looks at the crown prince in wonder.

And, ah, it’s strange. Mobei Jun finds that he is helpless against that mischievous smile. And it’s not even because he’s the prince

The place turns out to be a secret garden in the innermost crevices of the palace. They eat their cake and talk. The prince is quite the chatterer.

Later, when they sneak back to the party with their guardians unaware that they have been gone, Mobei Jun thanks the crown prince properly with a low bow just like he is taught how to when in the presence of the crown.

“Ai! None of that ‘Your Highness’ stuff! Call me Qinghua! That’s my name. We’re friends after all!” He paused, looking unsure of himself. “I mean, if you want to that is. It’s okay if you don’t! I understand it can be weird. Mama—I mean, Her Majesty says I should not expect everyone to easily be comfortable around us. Whatever that means.”

Mobei Jun takes time to answer. Shang Qinghua takes this to mean he does not want to be friends.

“Oh, okay. I understand—”

“No. I mean,” Mobei Jun tries to explain and make a note to himself that the prince is not only a chatterbox but is prone to jump to conclusions. “I do want to be friends with His High—” Shang Qinghua frowns and Mobei Jun hastily corrects himself, “with Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua smiles at him, radiant and wide and warm, and Mobei Jun, aged twelve, gets the feeling he’s a goner.

—

“Don’t touch him. He’s mine.”

Mobei Jun whips around to find Shang Qinghua at the end of the hallway. His eyes trained on Mobei Jun’s uncle and the almost bruising grip he has on Mobei Jun. There is an air of silent cold fury about him as he sees Mobei Jun backed to a corner.

“Your Highness,” Linguang Jun greets cooly, unhanding Mobei Jun and slowly dropping in a bow. A mockery instead of respect. “I was just telling my nephew here how—”

“I don’t care for your excuses, Linguang Jun. I’ve seen enough,” Shang Qinghua said, low and angry. For someone who Mobei Jun knows to be a soft-hearted and often whiny fumbling disposition, Shang Qinghua currently radiates the piercing aura of a crown prince he really is. “Don’t let me see you here or ever near Mobei Jun ever again or you’ll find yourself thrown out of this court. For good.”

“But of course, Your Highness. My apologies for—”

“Scram!”

Linguang Jun doesn’t bother trying to dissuade Shang Qinghua’s anger. He just smiles and bows out, sending Mobei Jun one last cold glare out of the corner of his eyes.

When his uncle is fully out of the picture, gone is the cold fury radiating off of him just mere moments before. Shang Qinghua reverts back to his usual endearingly fumbling self, at least around Mobei Jun.

“I’m sorry!” He immediately says. His ears have gone red and Mobei Jun watches the color travel to his face and down to his neck. How cute. “I-I didn’t mean to treat you like—I didn’t mean to make you sound like…like property! You’re not! Of course, you’re not! You’re your own person! I was just—in the heat of the moment, I—I didn’t mean to! I’m so so—”

“No, you’re right. I am yours,” Mobei Jun says, deciding to take pity on him. He holds up a hand when Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to protest once more. Ah, his Qinghua has always been such a silly man quick to jump to conclusions. “Not because my family is a vassal of the crown but because it’s the truth. I simply have been yours since the moment you took my hand on that banquet of your thirteenth birthday.”

“W-what?”

“I’m saying, Your Highness,” Mobei Jun chuckles as Shang Qinghua frowns and rolls his eyes at the teasing. He always did hate it whenever Mobei Jun calls him by his title. “That after all these years, I think you should finally take a hint,” he crowds on Shang Qinghua, loving for the lithe crown prince doesn’t shirk away from him but arches against him instead, pushing their bodies together, “and just officially make me yours.”

“How presumptuous of you, Mobei Jun,” Shang Qinghua teases back but still ending up winding his arms over Mobei Jun’s neck. “I could have you tried for your impertinence—and for taking such liberties with your prince. Just where do you think your hand is resting, hmm?”

Mobei Jun chuckles, not removing his hand on Shang Qinghua's ass

“But you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t.”

And Shang Qinghua leans up to finally, finally, kiss Mobei Jun.

[ao3 | twt | buy me a ko-fi // more fics]

#moshang #don't u just love it when sqh is the one in the position of power #and mbj is having the grand time of his life being the damsel in distress for a change #writing #svsss #svsss fanfic #shang qinghua #mobei jun #scumbag system #scumbag villain self saving system

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clarawatson · 3 years

Text

It Only Takes A Taste (2)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded) Summary: it’s your second time meeting Aaron. He’s still flustered and precious but he (might) manage to give you his number. W/C: 2113 Warnings: none yet! A/N: i haven’t got chapter names yet, just accept they’re all called ‘it only takes a taste’ haha. AO3 tags: @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 (if you want to get added, lmk!!) Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

The next time you meet him, it’s 2am. Rita’s three weeks off her due date. She’s been staying at Joe’s place, with his wife, because the heating’s gone out in her apartment and her super is a foul man. If you were inclined to murder, he’d be first on your list. Right now she’s out the back, trying to wipe chocolate sauce off her uniform. The baby’s been kicking for hours and knocks things around the counter sometimes. At least it isn’t throwing her ribs out this time.

There’s a couple of teens drinking milkshakes in the window, they’ve snuck out after bedtime and they’re giggling to each other about how bad they are. You’ve seen their parents drive by twice (they’re regulars after school) but no one’s come in yet.

The agent drives by, and then does a u-turn and comes back. It was literally a double take, no matter how you look at it. You clearly saw him slow down and try to look in the window as he tried (desperately tried) to stay on the main road. And then he’d turned around and come back.

He’s even prettier dry than he was wet. (Your mind spirals to where that could have gone, which is not something you expected from a 2am shift). He’s loosened his tie and his hair is falling free of the gel. He looks less tired, and yet more tired. A different kind of tired. This one would be fixed by a good night’s sleep.

“Hi,” he says with a little quirk in his lip that could be him fighting off a smile.

“Hi,” you return with a full smile. He sits in front of you and steeples his fingers under his chin.

“I’m Aaron.”

A fortnight you’ve been wondering his name and he just swans in and hands it to you on a silver platter. Bless him and his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y/n,” you introduce. “And what can I get for you tonight, Aaron?”

“Maybe not a coffee.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you. He has such a cheeky smile you almost want to reach over and wipe it off his lips. “A hot chocolate would do. I’ve got to sleep enough to take my kid to school.”

“Have here?” Your hands hover over the in-cups and the out-cups. He taps his finger against his chin.

“In.” He folds his hands and you notice he’s not wearing a wedding ring. Kid, no wedding ring, weird hours. Could be a score, could be a serial killer. Could be both! No. Not both. There will be no fraternising with serial killers. Not if you respect your life.

Would it be weird to ask him where he works? If he works for one of the alphabet soups, will it get you in trouble? Maybe. People don’t like you poking around when sensitive information could be involved. You still ask anyway while the coffee machine has it’s little dummy spit at having to work at two in the morning.

“Quantico,” he says. He probably saw you trying to figure out how to ask. And that’s really all he can say. Maybe. He waggles his eyebrows just a little and you think he’s maybe a little too cheeky for this early in the morning. If Rita was working she’d be swooning all over him.

“That’s very prestigious, but, sir, I don’t think you have the security clearance to be in this diner if you only work at Quantico. We deal with Area 51.”

“Long commute,” he teases.

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what the uneducated think. I can break a few rules as long as you don’t start asking questions. No asking about where they keep the aliens, okay?”

“Never.” He wraps his hands around the mug as you push it to him, absorbing it’s warmth.

“Did your son like the cookie?” you ask. Is it weird to remember he has a son after one interaction? Or the cookie? But he smiles. It’s okay.

“He’s actually in love with it. He’s not stopped talking about it. I think my sister-in-law might kill me.”

“Joe’s magic in the kitchen. I’ll save a couple of cookies if you know when you’ll be in next?”

Is that too forward? Maybe. He pulls out a little day book and places it before him.

“Is Thursday too soon?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You make a note to tell Joe you’re working on Thursday. “Sounds like a good day to collect a cookie.”

“If someone could cut this monster out of me, that would be GREAT!” Rita yells in the kitchen. Her voice is still far too loud out here. Aaron finally drops his gaze from yours, grinning into his hot chocolate.

“Shit, babes, I’m serious. I’ll got for a pocket knife at this point. I’m hot, and it’s not hot, I have to piss every four minutes, I can’t even sit in a car properly and taking the MET is stupid because I still have to pee!” She stops up short, seeing Aaron, and blinks as if she could erase her last comment. “Hi, sorry, you’re rain boy.”

“I prefer Raymond.”

There’s a beat where you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. The cheeky demeanor falls from his face.

“Rain Man! Tom Cruise! Smile." Aaron has no option but to smile at Rita. Too late you realise she's checking the alignment of his teeth to actually equate him to Tom Cruise. "Raymond, for sure. Shit, that’s funny,” Rita laughs, groans, and turns on her heel out the back. She needed to pee again. Aaron smiles just a little.

“Want some pie?” you offer. There’s still a bit left. Joe won’t be in for another hour or so, but there’s some in the oven to take out just before three. Aaron nods.

“Yeah, please.” He puts too much money in the tip jar again. Hands you the exact money for the pie. Had he looked at the menu online? Maybe he had. You take a slice out for him, then a slice for yourself. No harm in that. The whipped cream goes on his like a mountain. You put a bit beside your own pie slice, but Aaron’s grinning.

He looks like he may do something childish. He doesn't, though, as you join him in pie eating. The teenagers start giggling about something they're watching on their phone.

Rita comes back looking more tired than usual. Her whole body looks tired as she gets her purse and rubs her belly.

"Say bye to Rita," she says without much playful effort.

"Bye Rita," you return and kiss her cheek as she lifts it to you.

"And to Baby."

"Bye Baby, be good for Mom."

Rita snorts. Joe gives you a list of things to do while he's taking Rita home. Apparently Lola's coming in to replace Rita, but that's only going to be proven by Lola actually turning up. Aaron raises his hand around his fork and waves. Rita waves back and waddles out the back.

"Is she okay?" you ask Joe, and he nods. He waves goodbye to Aaron, even though he hasn't introduced himself yet. Aaron waves too.

"That's a lot to worry about," Aaron says. You shrug and reach over the counter to Aaron's plate, taking some of his cream. He laughs and puts his arm around it to protect it.

"They're family. Less worrying, more caring."

He nods as if he understands. "Might use that sometime."

"You're welcome to."

He gives you a smile that only uses half his face. Gosh, he's cute. But it’s nothing more than fleeting night time visits, right? Okay, maybe not, he clearly turned his car around because he saw you working. You catch him staring at your left hand, studying it intently. No one wore rings at the diner, just because everything got stuck underneath them and there was nothing worse than having a maple syrup adorned wedding ring.

“There’s no one,” you tell him, which flusters him entirely. He smiles and looks down at his pie, blush creeping over his face. “Weird hours in a place like this? Hardly a brilliant base to build a relationship on.”

“Yeah.” He might want to say more, but he’s smiling at you again. “Weird hours, strange place, know that story.”

“Sucks, hey?”

“Oh yeah.”

The teens from the window go home when they’ve finished their milkshake. You tell them to get home safe and pray their parents don’t come in asking where they went. Aaron scraps his plate, scooping up the cream and pie soupy mess.

“I have to go,” Aaron sighs. He runs his hand through his hair and his fingers get stuck in the left-over-gelly-mess. You smother a giggle as he rolls his eyes and pulls his hand out with tiny little crack-crack-crack’s. It sounds painful.

“I’m going to shower and get this shit out of my hair.”

“It’ll look nice without it in.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He blushes, returning to the man you’d met coming out of the rain.

“Well I’ll remember that for next time.”

Your heart jumps. Next time! There’ll be a next! Time!

“Listen, hey, um,” Aaron says as he stuffs a couple of bills into the tip jar. “Here--” he stops again, then shakes his head like he’s giving himself a vote of confidence. “This is…” he stops again and licks his lips, then pulls out a business card from his suit pocket. He scratches his number onto the blank back, and then Aaron at the top. “My number,” he managed to finish.

“Thanks,” you respond before wanting to smack your head onto the counter. Thanks?!?! There are a hundred better things to say. “W-when do you want me?” When do you want me??? “To be here, on Thursday, for the cookies.”

Aaron’s gone red. Your face is hot. This is a disaster. There’s no fixing this disaster. There’s no fixing it at all. But Aaron smiles all the same.

“U-uh. I’ll text you?” he looks so flustered.

“You haven’t got my number,” you giggle, because he hasn’t. You’ve got his. He looks like a tomato as he blushes even more. “How about I text you my number, and you tell me when you’re free, and I’ll make sure there’s three cookies set aside for you that no one else buys.”

“Three?”

“You, your son, your sister-in-law.”

“I could really use you at work,” he laughs and… sits back down. Four seconds ago he was in such a rush to leave, and now he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. He’s so precious, you wish you could just put him in a jar and protect all that goodness from the evils of the world. Surely he couldn’t have met too many of them just yet? He’s still got a smile that could brighten up the night sky, people who’ve seen all the hurt and pain in the world can’t smile like that.

“I don’t think I’m clever enough to get into Quantico. Unless they like people serving them coffees,” you smile gently and he tilts his head while looking at you. A curious puppy. You want to lean over and squish his cheeks for thinking you could be anything more than a server at a roadside diner.

“You’d brighten the place up.”

“You brighten my place up.” Corny, highschool grade flirting. He smiles all the same. Can he smile any more than that? Probably not, he might combust and become a star. “You know you don’t have to keep putting money into the tip jar, right? Not the amount you do. Most people just put in their change.”

He looks at the tip jar. “It’s for Rita’s hospital bills, right? It’s why she won’t look at it, because she’s embarrassed, but also why you and Joe count every bill that goes in it.”

“Alright, Sherlock Holmes.”

“It says on the jar,” he jokes, and points to the permanent marker that’s bled through the otherside of the tip jar. You laugh. Aaron laughs.

“I do have to go.”

“Go,” you laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m off my shift.”

He nods, looking a little sad to go, but also a little excited. He must really love his son.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Aaron,” you return and watch him leave. Shit, he’s even cuter leaving. He even waves from his car before he drives off. You’re close to squealing when the bikie gang pull up, flooding the carpark, then all come in ready for their coffee. At least Aaron’s hot chocolate warmed up the machine for them.

#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #diner!au

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you look after everyone, but who looks after you?

Summary: Penelope is sad and lonely and thinks nobody can see her struggling, but Emily does. When she shows up at her apartment unannounced, one thing leads to another, and soon a miserable evening turns into one of the best in Penelope's life.

Tags: hurt/comfort, sad penelope, angst w a happy ending, cuddling, tooth-rotting fluff, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I'm imagining s5/6 penemily for this one!

Penelope's small and bright apartment is her only source of comfort tonight, and although she does absolutely everything in her power to maximise the cosiness, to feel as safe and warm as possible inside its protective walls, it still doesn't feel like enough.

She's sad, and she's tired, and a larger part of her than she'd like to admit is bitter, which is an icky emotion, and she hates more than anything that it exists inside of her but tonight, it does, and there isn't anything she can do to stamp that stubborn little flame out.

She has always prided herself on the way she acts towards others. She makes sure that people are okay, and she bakes homemade muffins and puts them on their desks with one of her colourful toys when the bad stuff is getting to them, and she gives out hugs like there's no tomorrow; that's who Penelope Garcia is, and it's something that will always be important to her, no matter what.

But sometimes— sometimes she wants her own Penelope Garcia. It's easier to cheer other people up, to make them smile on a sad and rainy day, than it is to pick herself up out of her own all-consuming, utterly inexorable funks that creep up on her every now and then. And because happiness, colour, and bright smiles are who she can't help but be, people don't always see through that facade when it's no longer an instinct but a mask.

And because she would never dream of putting her bad mood or her sadness or her heavy, weighty grief on the shoulders of anyone else, she's left on her own.

When the last candle is the living room is lit, and her favourite lamps are on; when she's taken a hot shower, and she's put on her favourite pyjamas; when she's placed the order for her dinner-for-one, she sits down slowly on the sofa and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the inky blackness of the one window she forgot to draw the curtains over. As she stares, the inky blackness she feels on the inside only grows until it consumes her, swirling aggressively until tears are streaming down her face, and she's choking back sobs that threaten to rip her chest in two.

She's only brought out of her miserable, desolate stupor when the intercom buzzes with a visitor that she supposes is probably the delivery man with her Chinese order. She'd fancied Indian, but it reminded her too much of the team dinners Spencer always dragged them to, and that was just a little too painful for a lonesome night like this.

"Come on up," she says into the intercom, not bothering to hide the tiredness in her voice from a stranger she'll never see again, and without waiting for a response, she sits back on the sofa, staring at the purple walls of her apartment until there's a soft knock at the door.

Almost on auto-pilot, she stands up and opens the door, and her eyes widen as she stares in shock at Emily Prentiss standing in her hallway.

"You're not the delivery man," she whispers, still staring at her with wide eyes.

Emily chuckles sadly. "No, Pen. I'm not."

Penelope nods, blinking a couple of times, very unsure of what to do next or why the woman she's secretly in love with is standing in front of her at 10pm on a Tuesday night.

"Can I come in?" Emily prompts.

"Oh, uh— yes, of course." She opens the door wide enough for Emily to slip into her warmly lit living room and takes the opportunity of Emily's back briefly turned to scrub fruitlessly at her makeup-less, tear-stained face.

"This is cosy."

"Yeah, I just reread my favourite book about Hygge."

"Hygge?"

"It's uh. It's a Danish thing." Usually, she jumps at the opportunity to talk about Hygge and all the things she'd learned from her trip to visit her Danish friend last year, but right now, she's far too tired.

Emily nods, dropping her handbag by the door and walking over to take a seat on the sofa. "Come sit."

Penelope obeys and curls up in the opposite end to Emily, pulling a blanket over her lap and cuddling into it in another vain attempt to cheer herself up. Still, when pretty candles and the promise of takeaway can't make her happy, there really isn't much hope.

They stare at each other for a couple of minutes before Emily speaks, leaning forward a little. "How are you feeling, Penelope?"

Penelope blinks. "I'm fine."

Emily smiles, and again, it's sad. "No, Pen. How are you really feeling?"

She continues staring but doesn't say anything in response.

Emily scoots a little closer on the sofa. "Listen, I've watched you over the last couple of days. I know you're having a hard time, and I know that you won't say anything to anyone because you're brave and strong and quiet in your suffering. You look after everyone, Penelope, but who looks after you?"

Immediately at hearing those words, her face crumples, and she descends into the tears she'd only just managed to stop moments earlier. This time, though, the sobs she'd been choking back spillover, wracking her shoulders as she hugs her knees to her chest, desperate to hold herself together as she completely falls apart.

"Oh, Pen." Emily moves even closer and pries Penelope's hands away from her knees until she's able to guide her into a hug. Penelope usually tries to keep her physical distance from Emily, too scared of what she'll do if given a chance to touch her, but right now, she can't help but bury her face in her neck and cling on to her for dear life as Emily holds her back just as tightly.

"Shh, you're okay, honey," she soothes quietly, running her hand up and down her back gently as she lets Penelope fall apart in her arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She says everything Penelope needs to hear as she cries herself out, sobs eventually receding to tired sniffles as she pulls away from Emily slightly, a little embarrassed of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on you like that."

Emily brings a hand to her chin and lifts her face gently until she's looking directly into Emily's warm, kind brown eyes. "You have nothing to apologise for, okay? I'm just sorry you've been having such a rough time and haven't had anyone to talk to about it."

Penelope nods, still embarrassed that she fell apart so easily but feeling soothed and comforted by Emily's warm words and gentle hands.

Just then, the buzzer goes again. "That's, uh, that's my dinner."

"Ah," Emily says, nodding in understanding. "Is that who you thought I was?"

Penelope looks away sheepishly. "Yeah."

"That explains the abrupt invitation upstairs," Emily says, smiling at her as she gets off the sofa and buzzes the courier up. "You mind if I stick around while you eat?"

"No! Please— please stay," she says, hating the desperation that bleeds into her voice.

"Okay, I'll stay, of course I will," Emily promises, rushing to soothe her again as she hears the agitation and distress in Penelope's voice. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Penelope nods gratefully. "You can even have some of my eggrolls," she says, managing a little smile as she references the well-known fact that Emily despises eggrolls and makes such a big, dramatic deal out of it every time any of them order Chinese.

Emily laughs, her head tipping back a little. "You're so generous."

She opens the door for the delivery man and takes the bag from him, before bringing it over to the coffee table and laying it out in front of Penelope.

"You should eat up, sweetie," she says in that kind, concerned way of hers as she comes to sit next to her on the sofa, "I'm sure that crying took it out of you, hm?"

Penelope nods tiredly and tucks into her dinner as Emily flicks through the TV channels before settling on a rerun of Will & Grace. They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as the familiar sound of a 90s laugh-track sitcom fills the room and Penelope eats her dinner.

"You need another hug?" Emily asks once she's finished her food and is inching closer on the sofa, and Penelope might be delusional but she swears she sees an inkling of hope on her face, so she doesn't hesitate in nodding.

Emily beams and pulls her closer, arranging them until they're lying horizontally on the sofa, comfortably tangled up in one another, idly watching the TV while they enjoy the comfort of one another's company.

"Pen?" Emily whispers, after a good couple of episodes; after most of the tealights Penelope had lit earlier have burned themselves out. "You know I love you right?"

There's something in her voice that makes Penelope feel brave. "Yeah," she whispers back, burying even closer into her side. "I love you, too, Emily. More than you know."

The last four words are uttered with a weight the fragile air in the room can't hold, and they crash back down between them, making Emily shift to look at her properly. Her face is a myriad of earnest emotions, and Penelope can't look away.

"When I say I love you," Emily says, nerves and anticipation and hope in the whisper of her voice, "I mean it. I don't— I don't love you like a friend, Penelope. I love you more than that."

Penelope stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks at the woman lying next to her, anxious, hopeful features illuminated by soft candlelight.

"I love you more than that, too."

Emily's nervous features smooth into something warm and eager and happy. "You do?"

Penelope nods, and she's sure her face holds a similar expression. "I do."

"Can I kiss you?" Emily whispers, lifting her hand to rest in Penelope's blond, tangled hair.

"Please," she whispers back, and not a second later she's being kissed like she's never been kissed before; like the ocean's dried up and she's the last gulp of water to be found; like all the world's oxygen's disappeared, and she's the only gasp of fresh air left behind. She's kissed like she is Penelope Garcia and that is enough for Emily Prentiss, she's kissed like she doesn't need anything else but to exist in this moment, right here, right now.

She doesn't want it to end, but when it does, when they've pulled away and their faces are inches apart and they're breathing heavily, when she looks into Emily's eyes and sees everything she's always wanted to find in them, she's glad it did, because the first kiss ending means that they can do it again.

Yes, I'm gonna keep writing that Penelope is very invested in Danish culture okay, it's my fav headcanon, leave me alone. I hope you liked this one! <3

taglist: @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @reidology @spencerspecifics @hotchedyke @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @sapphic-stress @wifeyprentiss @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #penemily #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #criminal minds #cm #penemily fic #penemily fanfic #penemily fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #penemily fluff #sad penelope garcia #hurt penelope garcia

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i-lovethatforme · 3 years

Note

Hi Jess! Hope you're having a nice Wednesday 🥰 I just am feeling a bit down. I have a fic idea but it's been consistently shot down or I've seen people laughing at the idea and it will be my first time writing for anything! Let alone Spideychelle and I don't want to alienate myself 🥺😔

Hi angel! Sorry I am late 😌 but I've had a few conversations re this kinda topic lately so!

Obviously I don't know the idea but if you like it - write it! There's going to be someone that wants to read it! Someone that will love it!

I've found that the fics I love that I've written myself - I'm nowhere near as worried if they do well? Like I can post and go and if I get comments, nice! And if I don't then okay! I know I love that fic so that's honestly all that matters. There's a few fics I wrote because I thought I needed to/deadlines for stuff that I don't love as much (back in the beginning) and I was much more worried about interaction because I was trying to figure out if they're good? Because I wasn't 100% sold so I was waiting for external vali. Which drives you crazy!

All I can say when writing exactly what you want - make sure you tag properly! And I don't mean fluff/ angst - I mean the trigger warnings and the big boy tags like MCD/ rape/non con etc. That's suuuuper important.

And as an opinion from mee that I think is prob unpopular... I haaate creator chose no tags or wtvr it is. Hate it! I just won't read it. I don't want an mcd or something insane as a jumpscare or for drama! I wanna know going in - but that's up to people's discretion so please be mindful of that ❤ imo you can still create a great story even if everyone knows the ending in advance. My fave fave way to read and to write.

You won't alienate yourself! And I promise you'll find the people who support you even w out reading! Jill has written 3 MCDs and I've read none because I'm not a criminal! But I'll still support her either way.

Write what makes you happy! And then tag it ❤❤❤

Link me if you post! (I won't read an MCD or about 826 other ideas as far as my filters on ao3 are concerned but I'll cheer for you anyway)

#asks #ask

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thenextchapter22 · 3 years

Text

Mail Order… Kitten Girl

Part 6: Pretty in Pink

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks...

Tags: Past Abuse, Past Non/Con, Slavery, Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Kitten gets a new collar and leash, and loves being paraded around in them because it means she is loved.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

Everyone had just come home from School, and you had been napping with Belphie upstairs. He did online school a lot so you usually stayed with him, or Levi who did the same but his room wasn’t as cozy. But sometimes you went to RAD with them and stayed in Lucifer’s office, or Diavolo’s. It depended on the day, but you were rarely alone which was nice.

Belphie had let you know they messaged him that they were on their way back, so you stretched, kissed him goodbye, and went to greet your other Master’s at the door. Hugs and kisses and head scratches, it was wonderful. You missed them so much.

“Kitten, come here,” Satan called. “I have a present for you in my room.”

Your eyes brightened. “Okay!” You followed him to his room, very excited. Presents were the best!

He chuckled, taking your hand to kiss it. He was a sweet Master, despite what others thought. “You’re so cute.”

“Master...” you blushed.

He led you in his room, and set you on the couch. Satan’s room was messy, books all over, but after you came into their lives he made an effort to make sure his room always had a spot for you.

He sat beside you and held out a box, it was big and looked like it came from Akuzon. “I ordered it for you, I thought you’d like it. Go on.” He gestured for you to open the parcel.

You tore open the tape with your claws, and ripped it apart, Satan grinning as you did. You pulled out tissue paper and gasped at what was underneath.

Three things were inside, and you pulled out each individually. One was a pretty pink collar, soft leather and a tiny pink bell in a bow than jingled when you tapped it. The next thing was a leash, white thick length and at the tip where it would connect to the collar with a metal clip there was a pink bow. The last item was at the bottom, and it caused you to blush brightly. A stainless-steel plug for your bottom, with a pink heart gem at the base.

The presents sat on your lap, and you ran your fingers over each item, purring.

Satan’s hand went to your lap, running up and down your thigh. You had on a knee length skirt so he pushed it up as he stroked your bare skin, and asked, “Do you want to wear any of it?”

You nodded, licking your lips. Your stomach fluttered. “Please, Master... all of it...”

“Okay, Kitten. Let’s get you out of these clothes first.”

He stripped you down, first your top, bra, then your skirt which you had to lift your hips, and same for your underwear. He piled them in the corner of the sofa, and then snapped his fingers lightly, and pointed to the carpet. “On your hands and knees,” he ordered softly, his green eyes shimmering.

You obeyed, and positioned yourself as he said, pushing your bum up. He appraised you once over, then got on his knees behind you. “I’m going to open you up now for your plug, so be good and stay still.”

“Please, yes, I will be good,” you panted. The anticipation of having his fingers inside of you was strong.

The popping sound of a cap opening, and then slick wet sounds of him getting lube echoed in the room. His warm palm was on your butt, and then a finger from his other hand pressed to your hole, sticky and cool. It rubbed in circles first, then slipped in little by little.

Your claws dug into the carpet, and your tail swished in the air.

“Watch your tail, lovely,” he said.

“Sorry, Master, feels good...”

“I know, but keep still so I can stretch you properly.”

“Mmkay,” you moaned.

He slipped his finger all the way and curled it downward, and your hips jutted back. “Ahh~”

He pulled away, and tutted, his hand on your cheek softly patting. “Be a good girl, Kitten, or you won’t get your pretty heart plug.”

You cried, turning your head to glance back at him. Your eyes were wide and wet. “I’ll be still now, Master. Please,” you begged.

He smirked. “Please what?”

You blinked. “Please give me my pretty plug?”

“Good girl.”

His fingers went back inside, and this time two were slicking your asshole, scissoring you open. It was a strange feeling, but then his other hand went to your tail at the base and squeezed softly, and your breath hitched.

“Ah, Kitten likes this spot, hm?” he teased.

“Yes, ‘s good,” you tried not to rut back as he stroked the base of your tail and your insides with his long skillful fingers.

“So tight, let’s get you nice and open for your plug so you can look pretty for everyone.”

You didn’t know what that meant, but you pushed down on his fingers, trying to help. His nails scrapped a bit at your puckered entrance, the nerves shooting pleasure down your spine.

He worked more lube onto his fingers and soon had three inside of you. His hand stopped stroking your tail and you were sad for a second before his finger ventured lower to play with your lips, teasing the wetness growing.

“Kitten is getting my floor soaked,” he noticed with a smirk in his voice.

You bit your lip. “S-sorry, Master, feels too good.”

“You like my fingers opening you up?”

“Oh~ So much, Master!”

“Hm, good girl, taking my fingers so well now.”

He pushed inside deeper with his fingers, curling and scissoring for what felt like hours. The pad of his finger on his other hand teasing your clit carefully, barely touching. He was teasing you, making you really wet. Your mouth was salivating, and you had to lick away the spit from your lips. The room was cool and it tingled your skin as sweat grew over your body, flushed and on edge.

Moans and slick sounds echoed the room for a while, then his hands were gone. “Okay, here we go, lovely. Open up for your heart plug.” In response, you stuck out your bum, and spread your legs. He mumbled, “good girl,” and the cool press of steel was at your puckered hole.

“Bare down, now,” he ordered.

You did, and it was suddenly inside, a full feeling you loved. You wiggled your hips, the plug hitting sweet spots in your body. It was intense. Cool and wet and large, spreading you apart in a fantastic way.

“Stand up, Kitten, let your Master see.”

You stood up shakily on your knees, and had to have him help you stand. Your body shook a bit, and you panted at him, ears twitching.

Satan circled his finger. “Turn around and spread your cheeks.”

You did, and bent over a little, moving your tail up and out of the way so he could see.

“So pretty, a little pink heart for my lovely girl.” He caressed your ass, and his fingers slipped over your pussy to rub your clit. You moaned, pushing into the contact. He moved away. “Now for your collar and leash.”

He put the collar on you, and it was snug, the bell jingling. He slipped a finger in to make sure it wasn’t too tight, then clipped on the leash. His hands cupped your breasts and you pushed out your chest, and he grinned, flicking your nipples, making you gasp. “Let’s take my Kitten for a walk, hm?”

Your eyes were glazed over, and you felt buzzed, nerves on fire. Your core was tense, and your bum full. What did that mean?

Satan led you out of his room, down the hall, and to a group of voices that were your other Masters. You were nervous because so far it had been moments alone with each of them, but now you were on edge of orgasm, naked, flushed and ready to burst, and it would be in front of them all.

You kept your eyes down, being tugged along. Satan stopped in the center of the room, and the talking had stopped as soon as you entered. You heard small gasps, and groans. They were excited to see you, you thought.

“Oh, how gorgeous she is Satan~” Asmo cooed. “She smells so desperate, too.”

Satan smirked. “I know.”

You lied, Satan was a sweet Master, but he could be so cruel.

You loved it.

You turned your eyes up to Satan. “Master, can I please...?”

He raised a brow, smirking. He tilted his head and sighed like it was hard. “Oh, all right.”

“No.” Lucifer interrupted, and you cried out in desperation. “She should ask for what she wants clearly.”

“I agree,” Asmo said, and soon the others echoed in agreement.

“You heard them, Kitten. Go on.” Satan tugged the leash, the collar pulling a bit on your throat, just enough to pull a gasp from your lips and for the small bell at the front to ring again.

You looked around at them all, and moaned. “W-wana... just feel good.” Your hips jutted and you felt the plug deep, and your thighs were sticky with your juices. You reached for Satan, who held your leash, and grabbed the hand that held the end of it. He let you hold his hand, squeeze it, and you begged again, louder. “Please, Master’s.... I wana cum,” you sobbed, tail flickering hopelessly.

Satan’s two fingers went to your pussy and slipped inside, and his thumb pressed to your clit to rub. He kept his fingers inside of you, flickering the tips against your g-spot, and the shocks of great pleasure had you crying out, rutting your hips, and you came standing up, leaning into his body to bite at his shirt. The plug felt like it was vibrating around your hole and it extended the pleasure that overcame your body in the best way.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek. “Let go, you’ve done so well.”

You collapsed on to Satan with shaky legs as he slid his fingers from your core. He lifted you up and sighed in happiness.

The other’s let out soft words of how you were a good girl, good Kitten, that you were so pretty. It had your head floating, and your limbs and body slack in Satan’s arms.

“She deserves a nice bath, let me take her?” Asmo asked. You heard footsteps, but kept your head curled into Satan’s chest, the lights dancing behind your eyes were lovely and went with the shocks of delight running over you.

Satan sighed. “Fine.” And he handed you off, and you curled into Asmo’s chest, still feeling the twitching effects of your orgasm.

“Let’s clean you up, deary.”

Asmo took you away, and you looked over his shoulder at everyone else. They all smiled softly at you, and you gave a small one back before shoving your nose into Asmo’s neck.

He giggled. “Such a sweet Kitten.”

You did wonder why they didn't get off, but you guessed it was okay if they didn’t ask. You were too out of it to really do much else right then anyway, and let yourself be led off down the hallway, content.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #hybrids #cat hybrid #female reader #obey me reader x everyone #mail order kitten girl #my fics #ao3 link

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