#if lea still has his powers

[big-friendly-birb]

Illusions of Light ✨

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the ask here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked. 

Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too. 

Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it. 

Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.

You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.

Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.

Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.

And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.

This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all. 

Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.

“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”

Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.

How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”

Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy. 

Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often. 

The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works. 

On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.

Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.

The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside. 

A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight. 

He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you. 

Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.

Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off. 

“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.

You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes. 

“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.

He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”

“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.” 

There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.

Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.

“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?” 

Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”

A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”

As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them. 

Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.

Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.

“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”

Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.

“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”

Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good. 

He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.

“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”

Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in. 

“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You 

look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”

“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”

You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”

A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”

Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete. 

“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”

You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.

If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.

Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.

He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage. 

You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.

The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”

Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible.  Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves. 

Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat. 

“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”

Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole. 

Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.

Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him. 

You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word. 

It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”

The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit? 

He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.

It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.

Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”

“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.  

That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.

Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.

And then he revvs the engine…  

The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer. 

“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.

“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this? 

He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.

An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.

“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.

It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.

“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.

You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.

“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.

Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.

“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”

He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”

With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.

[cupid-styles]

A little idea of a scene for hockeyxballerina: even before they start having a thing they end up in a heated kiss with him pressing her against a wall, car, bookshelf of whatever whi his hamd on her throat and her brain his so foggy she lets him spit on her mouth but the she comes to hers senses and runs away without a word, not even an insult because she is so shocked with what she did

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

word count: 1.6k

content warnings: smut (hehe finally!!!) (spitting, public play, dirty talk, degradation)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist

. . .

There must be something clinically wrong with Y/N tonight.

Well, maybe not just tonight. Maybe... maybe, that "something wrong" has been creeping up her body and spreading from her stomach out to her chest and center over the duration of a past few weeks. Maybe she expected it go away after a day or two, because why wouldn't it?

Harry Styles is his worst nightmare. Her moral enemy. Her fiercest competitor.

So why the fuck does she think he looks good enough to swallow whole tonight?

He walked in with a crowd of his hockey buddies an hour or so after Y/N, Lea, Rena, and Mai had arrived. Per the pre-game hosted at Mai and Rena's place, she was already feeling a little buzzed when she got here. She was planning on taking it easy tonight — she was still diligently practicing for the spring showcase every day — but the second her eyes flitted over to the stupid backwards hat he wore and the flex of his jaw from the gum he chewed, she knew she needed more to get through the night.

And she's pleasantly tipsy when she makes a move to head to the bathroom. She hears her friends scold her for "breaking the seal," but she rolls her eyes and playfully flips them off in response. Her sneakers stick to the vodka-coated floors of the college bar as she pushes her way through the crowd, trying to make her way to the ladies' room without any tequila spillage on her top.

Harry Styles is an idiot, she thinks to herself as she walks, There's no way I could have a crush on him. What, just because he drove me home a few times and helped me when I hurt my ankle? That's stupid, he's stupid, and—

"Hey, you."

Her eyes dart up at the familiar deep voice and she wishes the ground would open up and take her right then and there. Did she somehow conjure Harry up with her thoughts? She's a little drunk, but there's no way she's that powerful.

Unless she is.

"I have to pee." she replies, pointing to the bathrooms behind his tall stature.

"Okay. Go pee, then."

She flashes a tight smile his way as she brushes past him. She thinks from the corner of her eye she sees him stand against the wall of the small hallway, crossing her arms over his chest. The last time they were in this area together, it was right after she slept with Malcolm (the stupid, prissy idiot from the opposing team who wouldn't even smack her ass). At this point, it's been months since Harry lowly waxed poetic in her ear about how he could make all her degrading dreams come true.

The memory makes her shudder as she washes her hands.

Y/N's suspicious are proved right when she exits the bathroom to see Harry still standing there. She's prepared to ignore him and walk straight past him until he reaches out to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her back. She yelps, a tipsy, unattractive sound, and it makes Harry's eyes crease with laughter.

"You good?" he asks. Y/N's vision darts down to the gum he's chewing between his teeth and she swallows.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugs. "Just making sure you're not too drunk."

"I have a dress rehearsal this weekend," she replies with a shake of her head. "I just came out to see the girls."

"And me." He points out cheekily, making her roll her eyes.

"I didn't even know you'd be here tonight, Harry."

"It's one of three bars in town and all the athletes come here."

He's right about that, and she knows he could double down by pointing out the obvious, too — that this is the only bar their friend groups ever frequent, and the hockey team rarely misses a Friday night out.

Luckily, he spares her the embarrassment.

"We have a game tomorrow night," he continues, "Will you come?"

"Why would I do that?"

"School spirit. Duh."

Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. She focuses her eyesight on anything but the cocky, beautiful, stupid man in front of her.

"I'm practicing all day. I'll be in an ice bath before your game even starts."

"Hot," he smirks. Y/N's stomach flutters.

"Stop being a douche. I thought we were past this."

"We are!" Harry exclaims, lifting his hands up in surrender. She only now realizes that he'd had his fingers looped around her wrist that entire time. "I'm just saying, you're hot."

"You must be more fucked up than I thought," Y/N guffaws.

"If I was fucked up, I'd be trying to sleep with you right now."

The words fly from her lips before she can even stop them: "And that's not what you're doing?"

She doesn't know if she says it because she wants to call him out on his bluff or she's feeling the confidence — and lust — from her the drinks she consumed tonight. But she doesn't take it back. And she certainly doesn't walk away as she watches Harry's head cock slightly to the side. His expression almost seems as if he's... impressed, in some way. The smirk on his lips makes her ball her fists at her side.

"You would know if I was trying to fuck you, Y/N."

She swallows. It's warm — she's suddenly so warm right now as she realizes their chests are nearly pressed against one another. The height difference between them makes it so her breasts are below his pecs, but she still feels the expanse of muscles through the layers of their clothing.

"I doubt that," she mutters, and he clenches his jaw. It's almost hypnotizing to watch. "I really think—"

"I think you should shut up now."

In a moment, his hand is spread over her hip and they've swapped places; her back now pressed firmly up against the wall. His tall form all but blocks any onlookers from seeing who he has cornered, but he couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Not when he's been dreaming of this for weeks.

And really, he wouldn't do it if he didn't have some sort of prior knowledge about her hookup with Malcolm — the fact that she's somehow just depraved as him.

So he wedges his gum to the back of his molars, utters out the words, "open your mouth", and gathers up the spit behind his lips. His length immediately thickens in his pants when she sticks her tongue out. And then he spits in her mouth.

She whimpers instantly at the feeling but it's drowned out by his own groan. It's filthy and demeaning, but he can see it in her eyes how much she loves it.

"Looks so good," he mumbles, thumbing at a bit at the side of her mouth before pushing it in. "Swallow."

She does.

"You're well-behaved for a brat," he notes as he gives her hip a squeeze. She hums, eyes flickering when his hand lifts her shirt up slightly, fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of her stomach. "Did you want a prize, puppy?"

With hazy eyes, she nods.

He smirks, almost immediately stuffing his hand down her jeans. She gasps when he finds the sodden fabric of her underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from his chest.

"All this just for some spit? Maybe you're nastier than I thought."

She wishes she could reply back with something snarky but she can’t, not when he begins to roll her clit beneath his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he applies a bit more pressure, pausing momentarily to collect some of the wetness accumulating at her whimpering hole.

“Finally let me play with this pretty pussy, hm?” he says mockingly, “Maybe one day you’ll let me stretch it out, too. Might take awhile for it to fit, though— I know you’ve never been with someone as big as me.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles breathily. He laughs and squeezes her clit between two of his fingers. She gasps, barely offering enough recovery time before he’s back to rubbing circles.

“What, you really think you could take my cock, sweetheart? You can barely take one of my fingers. Gonna have to train you for months, but I think you’d like that.”

“Harry—“

“I know,” he coos condescendingly as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “You’re such a stubborn brat you’d just want me to stuff you full on the first try. Feel me in your fuckin’ stomach.”

“‘m gonna cum,” she mewls, reaching out to dig her fingernails into his chest. He hisses from the small bite of pain. “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna cum—“

Harry wouldn’t stop touching her even if he wanted to. Especially not as he watches her fall apart beneath his grasp, her knees almost buckling from the intensity of her orgasm. He feels her pussy clenching rapidly and he swallows harshly, the sight nearly being enough to make him come in his pants.

She’s quiet and shaky as her orgasm tapers off and Harry gently pulls his hand from her pants. He helps adjust her jeans back up and over her hips, her eyes flickering up to his face.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, her eyes widening as if she’s just realized what she’s done. “Oh my god, what the fuck?”

“What?” Harry asks through furrowed brows. He’s expecting some sort of nervous response about accidentally abandoning her friends, but instead she shakes her head and lightly pushes him away.

“I can’t. This was— this was bad, so fucking stupid.” She mumbles to herself, keeping her arms stretched out in front of her so he can’t get closer. “Fuck, Harry.”

He’s left confused and nervous as she watches her leave the bar.

[jnkgrnde]

— closer, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — in which, clarisse la rue can’t get enough of you, no matter how much you set her off. loosely based off of closer by RM. (media from princemick !)

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

authors note — first pjo fic.. kinda nervous 🫣 here’s my new years gift for the lack of posting 😭

clarisse la rue.

whether you feared her, hated her, were intimidated by her, you knew her name if you resided in camp half-blood. she was the infamous daughter of ares, god of war. if she didn’t scare you by her demeanor alone, then she had that status and her electric spear to back it up.

and then there was you.

you were a poseidon kid, claimed early, then got thrown into the poseidon cabin to fend for yourself. it felt lonesome at times, but getting along with people like luke and annabeth helped. it was also nice having a cabin to yourself, free to decorate it however you liked!

people thought you were pretty chill, a little scary with how you come along with your powers and whatnot, but overall you were a fun person to be around.

except when you were around clarisse. you definitely got under her skin, whether she liked it or not (she was starting to).

you were quick with your comebacks whenever she had something to say, which got snickers from her siblings around her, you were good with a blade, good in war games, good in almost everything she was.

did it get to her? yes. but did she find it attractive? also yes.

you could hold your own and your friends if it came down to it, and as a daughter of ares, she found that attractive.

that was all up until percy jackson came.

did you know you had siblings somewhere? yes, but you didn’t expect one to actually make it here, much less alive, but here we were. you were a couple years older than percy you found out. his mom had died on his way here with grover, another friend of yours. all he really wanted to do was find out who his father was and why all this was happening.

you felt protective of him, and that meant feeling protective of him against clarisse.

he didn’t know but you could tell he was a son of poseidon, your brother. you felt inclined to guide him until he found his way around and got used to what his life was now.

flash forward to the day after he arrived. he was already gaining some popularity around camp because of his encounter with the minotaur. in the morning you met up with him and luke, telling him about how the day after was capture the flag day.

you were walking until a familiar brunette came into view, knocking into percy. you snapped your head towards her just as she pushed him into the dirt. “hey, clarisse, back up.” you stepped closer to her. she looked at you, and for a moment your heart skipped a beat.

when had she been so pretty?

you two ‘glared’ (admired) at eachother for a moment before she turned to percy. “so this is the kid who killed the minotaur?” you looked at percy and he locked eyes for a quick second before looking back at clarisse. he looked scared but used to it, like he’d been bullied all his life.

“you want attention around here, dummy? you better be ready for it when it comes.” she jumped at him to scare him, then left laughing, not before making eye contact with you once more.

“well, she seems nice.” percy commented. “don’t worry about her. she just has this image to keep up. she’ll leave you alone soon, i’m sure.” you told him.

did you know that? no, but you didn’t want him to have to deal with anything yet.

“why don’t people mess with you?” percy asked you and luke. “they know better. best swordsman in over a century and she can drown people if she wanted.” luke explained with a smirk.

it was later in the day. the sun was still up, it was warm out, and the smell of the strawberry fields graced you. you were practing with your main weapon of choice. grunts rang in the air as you practiced on your dummy.

it was empty, which was just what you needed to blow off some steam. at least, it was empty until clarisse walked over. “you’re doing it wrong.” you didn’t face her, choosing to ignore her. you continued until a hand gripped your wrist.

“you ignoring me now?” just you ignoring her started her off wrong. she wanted you to pay attention to her. “do you need something?” you hissed at her. “i was talking to you. your forms off.” “mkay. thanks.” you went to go back to the dummy before she placed a hand on your waist to turn you back around. “you realize that could get you killed right?” she scolded. you stared at each other until she realized where her hand was and took it off like you were a hot pan burning her.

you mulled over the interaction; your waist felt tingly- you felt tingly. she was just so pretty and she was starting to make you nervous, but you had to do something.

“you willing to correct it then? since you feel like you need to comment on it.” you remarked.

this is what got her going.

you always having something quick to say, getting under her skin but in the right way.

she smirked, canines showing a little. it had your heart racing.

she went over to the dummy with a dagger that was on standby, and showed you a technique she used. “like that.” she moved to go behind you and gripped your waist again. “what are you doing?”

“relax, i’m moving you into a stance.” she told you.

was she half lying? well, sorta kinda. she was moving you, but she just wanted to be closer to you.

she adjusted your stance, then moved back and allowed you to practice. “just like that.” she told you.

“why are you helping me?” clarisse shrugged. “got bored.” “you sure you just didn’t wanna be near me?” you jokingly asked.

“maybe i did, maybe i didn’t.”

she did. she just wanted to be closer to you.

[slut4msby]

the atsumu hny was super cute !!! loved It sm !! I hope you had an amazing new year's celebration!! was jus wondering if you could write something w samu or maybe Kita Shinsuke (24) rice farmer ? btw inarizaki #1 forever 💯

high school sweethearts. kita shinsuke x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; fluff for a change of scenery & reader has a kid

+ a/n; I READ THIS AND WENT INSANE OMG I COULD TALK ABT KITA SHINSUKE (24) RICE FARMER FOR EVER. Fun little piece of lea slut4msby lore, when I first watched season 4 I had not read the manga yet and when Kita first came on screen i went insane. Also Kita and I are legally married?? My friends through a fake wedding for me because I was so in love with this man. And pls keep the Inarizaki reqs/asks/anything coming bc i am INSANE about inarizaki (i am normal i swear) <3

You couldn’t help peer out the window of your shared home with your husband. He was outside with your 5 year old son, playing some volleyball. Your son had never taken a liking to sports until your husband began cleaning out his old stuff, stumbling upon his jersey from his high school years. He would never admit and you would never bring it up but he did get emotional looking back at these days.The days where he led one of the greatest teams, not on the main roster, but he was still aware of the impact he had on the boys. He wasn’t the worst player but nothing notable, however Shinsuke had the power to put anyone at ease and you loved that about him.

Shinsuke never showed much self-confidence when the two of you had met in your first year. It’s not that he didn't have the confidence he just never felt the need to show it, and you appreciated that about him. You appreciate how no matter what Shinsuke was straight the point, you appreciated his need for routine, which has really helped your home life. You appreciate how he loves, how he cares for others. Kita Shinsuke was the perfect man.

However, despite how lucky you feel to have Shinsuke in your life. He feels even more lucky for you, he knows you are his soulmate from the day he met you in the first year. He felt as if all the work he had ever done paid off, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. At the beginning it was just a hallway class, the girl from class 1-6. Having your classes next to each other & both being in advanced classes meant the both of you would have recurring meetings. The next thing he knows, Aran had recruited you as the volleyball clubs manager as the team wouldn’t shut up about not having one. Shinsuke then began spending everyday with you, which turned to every waking second he was with you whenever he could be. He was your best friend, right?

That’s what you had thought. You would have never admitted your crush on Kita that began growing. However his admiration for you began sprouting. He loved the way you smiled, how you got along with everyone, took care of yourself and others, how you tie your shoelaces, how you set out  your notebook, how you played with your hair when you were nervous and how you didn’t seem to fear anything. Unlike him. Kita had put his feelings behind him, until he decided it was now or never, graduation. It was cliche, Shinsuke knew that. He had gotten you a bouquet of flowers, you had mentioned your favourite flowers in a passing conversation the second week of the second year. A useless piece of information, Shinsuke remembered that. Why wouldn’t he? He loved you. That day to Kita’s surprise, you said yes. You agreed to be his girlfriend.

Now, almost 10 years later. Shinsuke was your husband. Those flowers he had given you on graduation day you had pressed, they stayed on display in your kitchen, as well as a photo of you and Shinsuke the day your son was born. Now Shinsuke spent his days as a rice farmer instead of a volleyball player. However seeing him playing with your son reminded you of the man you fell in love with. 

You snapped out of a trance when your son called out to you, “Mum! Look! Dad taught me how to play volleyball like he used to.” You couldn’t help but smile, “He said I was really 

good! Mum, can I start playing volleyball! I wanna be like dad!.”

You turn towards Shinsuke, he looked so amused at the scenario. You jokingly roll your eyes at him, “of course you can baby!” You said planting a kiss on your son's forehead. “How about for now you and daddy go get cleaned up?”

“Okay!” Your son responds with a toothy smile, before your son begins pulling your husband down the hallway.

You felt like the luckiest woman alive.

©slut4msby

[idyat]

An idea

Hank x reader angst/fluff

Like reader getting Hurt and Hank going insanelly mad/protective over them 👀👀

Hank x reader

Insert Title

Summary: You almost die lmao

WARNINGS: Pretty hefty description of gore, blood and an almost dead body, reader gets shot lol

--------------------------------------------------

The alarm screamed as you ran through the halls, emptied out gun in one hand, the other trying its best to reach for your tablet and balance the files you were told to steal at the same time.

When you got it, you checked to make sure you were going the right direction. North West, drive-through storage room, perfect.

On your way there you smashed the alarm disabler off once you passed by it, for good measure. You winced from the glass shards but at least that damn noise was finally off. Picking up a gun from a dead agent, you ran down the building to where you needed to go as fast as possible before any reinforcements come and rough you up even more than you already were.

Eventually reaching the room you were supposed to exit through, you see a strange contraption on the door. You slowed down to check it out, make sure it's not a bomb, and it's...got S.Q inscripted on it? What the fuck?

A weird machine-looking thing with S.Q's logo or whatever tapped on it, stuck on th-

You hear a click and a beeping noise.

As you turn around, you barely have time to see yellow before a shot echoes in the room.

Fuck. You forgot how clever those engineer bastards could be.

* * *

"Hank? Do you hear me?"

Hank brought his bloody hand up to his earpiece.

"Loud and clear. What do you want Doc?"

2BDamned was lucky he only interrupted Hank after he was done killing all the agents in the room, otherwise he would have gotten a way ruder response, if any at all.

Hank wasn't eager on actually listening to anything that was about to be said to him, until the name of his lover was brought up.

"They were supposed to have left the base with the documents by now, but their tracker has been backing away from the exit? I think something happened to them. North-west, 1st floor storage room."

2B didn't need to tell Hank what to do, the latter dropped the corpse he was holding and rushed out like a raging ghost, ready to mow down whatever came across his path.

* * *

The engineer dragged his last victim's body along the floor as he communicated what he found on them.

"Yup, they were the one with the files. Gotta say, I'm surprised at how easy it was to trick them, I might as well have wiggled a cardboard cutout of Nick and they would've fallen for it!"

The radio-like voice laughed before quieting down when something was said in the intercom.

"Make sure to check if they're dead. Stay wary of your surroundings too, last time we checked the rest of 'em were still here."

"Yeah yeah. I'm using a big caliber, I'm sure it'll be good."

The ATP brought the body up to his eyes. There were indeed multiple gaping holes in their body, slowly gushing out blood and leaving a red trail behind him.

"Your optimism will be your downfall engineer, be careful."

"If you say so. Hey, now that we've mentioned Nick, tell him to buy me some smokes when he lea-"

The engineer suddenly whipped his body around, gun pulled up.

"...I heard something. Over."

It's funny how serious he just got, pointing his flashlight and weapon at every corner of the room, slowly advancing, dragging your body with much more care than before.

He begins going down the hall just a little bit faster. Both out of safety, and maybe because of a tiny prick of fear.

While he power walks, he looks back behind him one last time, just to check. The next thing he knew, he bumped against a tall bloody mass.

Just like you, the last thing he saw before blacking out was the splashing of his own blood.

But despite the burning rage, the want to hear this asshole scream until its lungs were fried, the killing machine threw the two halves of the body to the wall and fell to his knees, hands shaking in a frenzy to find out how to make rudimentory treatments before his dearest bled out.

All he could do at the moment was rip up tissues to stuff into the bullet holes and wrap a bandage around the wounds. He would have just torn off hunks of his own flesh to replace yours, but he wasn't yet sure if not only that would lead to an infection or not, or if that would even work any better than cloth.

Even when unconscious, your hands twitched at his first-aid attempts. It hurt. He knew it hurt. But he couldn't do anything about it. And on fucking god if that didn't break his heart. That and the dread of watching the life essence still slowly flow out of you as he called up to Doc.

"Emergency. NOW."

He held you up and ran to the car. No one could see it, but he was praying to any deity that may be left up there for you to be okay.

Protecting you was the best thing he knew to do. Even more than murder. And failing even this once would be a fate worse than an eternity of hell.

* * *

Pain. That was all you felt as the medbay light made you tear up slightly.

You closed your eyes, trying to sleep just a bit more, and potentially numb the horrible pain in your chest, but your attention is now also caught by the muffled voices in the room.

It takes a few minutes and what feels like a few injections for you to finally fully regain consciousness. When your sight unblurs, arm on the forehead to block out the brightness and pain, you see two red circles staring down at you.

"...Hi sweetie."

Hank almost jumps in happiness to his partner speaking up, his cold and calloused hands rubbing over your arm and sides, careful not to touch your many injuries.

"Excited, big guy...?" You tiredly say as you wrapped your arm around his and kissed his wrist. Your voice was weak, but you were smiling and alive and that's all that mattered to him at that moment. "Anything...what happened...?"

"You got shot."

Your eyes widen a bit, you didn't notice 2BDamned in the room until he spoke up while analyzing you a little more.

"Well...yeah, I figured. Anything else?"

"Hank over here finally understood how to not use food wrappings as bandages."

You let out a raspy chuckle. Hank definitely didn't care though, he was too focused on making sure you wouldn't faint and die at any moment.

It took a few minutes before Doc left the room. A few minutes of desperately trying to get to you for further examination without Hank giving him a death glare and pulling his partner away, closer to him.

When 2B finally left the room, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you as gently as possible and pulled you in, resting his head in the crook of your neck and relishing in the feeling of your living skin against his.

"Hanky? You alright?"

"No."

You softly hug him back with a sympathetic look on your face. He was breathing heavily, maybe even shaking a little. He hadn't let you go ever since you woke up, in fact his grip only got tighter and tighter, as if you would fade back away the moment he stopped.

"Hey, it's okay. It was just another little shot, nothing new."

You smile and rub his back, completely unaware of the hours spent to heal you back, of how many times you've flatlined during it, of all the empty blood packets sitting in the trash bin, of how they've genuinely considered just letting you die so they can bring you back later, of all the injections, bandages, tissues, spare organs, and most impirtantly, of how fucking scared Hank was.

Could he have been there to hold your hand while you agonised under 2BDamned, god damn he would have. He would have held it tighter and with more love than any gun he's ever handled. Maybe that's why he seemed so angry at Doc. As reasonable as it was, not being able to get any closer than 10 feet from the love of his life while they were nearly dead was torture.

But it was over now. He could hold you close without your blood staining his clothes. You gotta admit, it was quite pleasant to have basically a living ice pack against you when your entire body felt like you were going through a blender.

You two kept quiet for a bit, appreciating the contact with your lover, before he whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should've been there."

"You couldn't have known. I should have been more careful if anything."

Hank lifted his head up from your neck before grabbing your cheeks and digging his eyes into yours.

"Don't say that. You got me?"

Your smile widened a bit.

"Sure."

His head fell back onto you after that. How adorable was it to see a ruthless genocidal maniac cuddling up to you like a cat.

--------------------------------------------------

"..."

"Did you save the intel?"

"Fuck if I know. Ask Doc."

"Later. I prefer cuddles right now."

I got lazy with the end sorry

[kathaynesart]

After seeing Ron Circilo’s confirmation that F!Leo did have mystic powers, I can safely say that I actually prefer the fan canon that he didn’t, least not when the prologue happened. Makes Leo cooler knowing he still leas the resistance and fought back the Kraang without any magic whatsoever. Just his training, strategic skills, and intelligence to keep him pushing to the next day and so on, and his teammates and family to help support(as long as they could). Just feels cooler. Your thoughts?

Well, first off, I must say that I have nothing but the utmost respect for Ron Circilo and the Rise team in what they were able to accomplish! The fact that he was willing to come online and answer all of our unending questions was such a gift and a true act of kindness on his part. One that is deserving of our respect and gratitude.

It is amazing how much the little bits of knowledge have invigorated so many within the fandom, myself included! With this in mind, it is not my place or intention to disregard anything he has stated in these answers. For the most part I found everything he said to be insightful and very much in line with the impression given by both the show and movie. (My particular favorite being that future Mikey is physically in his 70's due to the use of his powers. I am very happy that Replica is already slated to be going in that direction.)

The answer in regards to Leo's mystic powers, I will admit, is probably one of the few answers I personally interpreted differently from the opening scene of the film. Even so, I think it's more important to take into account that projects such as the Rise Movie involve a lot of people and writers with differing opinions and thoughts (for example I heard many while interning on AtLA). So at points like this I can only shrug and say that whatever isn't stated outright within the final source material, is still open to interpretation. It's just nice to be given some insight on what could have been!

Just know that I will continue with what I had planned for Replica, in which Leo does not have his mystic abilities. For me this will play a key role in his character growth (many of which you mentioned in your question) and also explain a number of issues the opening film would otherwise face.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Paladin Danse x f!reader || Under you || SMUT

Title: Under you

Rating: explicit, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: Fallout 4

Relationship: reader x Danse (can be read as ss x Danse)

Characters: Danse, reader

Tags/ triggers: smut, pwp, power dynamics in a sense that he outranks her in bos and that's used as a flimsy thread for pwp??, desk time, p in v, doggy, threat of being caught, injury that's basically forgotten halfway through, argument, ooc

Wordcount: 2800

a/n: the first fanfic for fallout and first time writing in a while so its has its issues but we ignore that for the serotonins my boiiii Danse gives me

***

Opening the door to Danse's quaters onboard the Prydwen, you were greeted with his back towards you, broad shoulders covered by his BOS uniform. It wasn't every day you were faced with the realities of him outside of his armour.

However, you didn't look forward to this conversation given how he had left you at Knight-Captain Cade To get stitched up. His disappointment wasn't without merit, you had disregarded that order but with good reason, the civilians were the priority to you, not your own sensibilities of survival or self preservation.

You cleared your throat as you moved your hands to hook at your back. "Danse."You closed your eyes briefly and took a breath. "..Paladin Danse." You stated, keeping the clench of your teeth out of your voice as best you could ad you took the formal route.

He turned to regard you, eyes raking over you in a way that made you feel small before he took a breath.

"Did Knight-Captain Cade clear you?" He inquired, voice void of emotion as the remnants of the battle still courses through him, the images of your body bruised and bloody, the results still shining on the arch of your brow prominently. It's been a few hours and he's kept busy but it lingers on him, haunts him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Yes." You stated. "Well after few days rest, its honestly not even that bad Danse." You pulled against your shirt to reveal the stitched wound on your stomach, slight redness to the skin but nothing that would cause any worry. "Few days and I'll be back to kicking ass like I never even left."

Danse stood frozen for a moment, hands tightening ever so slightly at the clipboard he was holding at the sight of the exposed skin, knowing he shouldn't feel this way and much less when it was such an innocent gesture on your part when all you wanted to do was set his mind at ease. But the problem was that he had imagined it, had imagined his hands curled around that very skin, indenstations on your hips, on the smooth skin.

He knew his duties and what should take precedence but thoughts sometimes got a bit jumbled around you, feeling something growing in his chest, movement within in a way he couldn't decipher, anger at your actions and fear at your failures which he could argue was because of his role as your sponsor but he knew there was more to it and he should probably create some distance... but at the same time he had been elated when you asked him to accompany you on your outtings.

"That's.. uh that's good. "he stated, averting his eyes for a moment to think as he cleared his throat. "We still need to discuss your performance on the battlefield today, (Y/n).“ he took on the professional demeanor as he placed the clipboard on a nearby surface.

"I understand." You stated as you moved a few paces in his direction.

"You failed to follow a direct order." He stated. "You know what I told you when I chose to sponsor you. You are my responsibility and I can't have you-" he sighed and ran his hand over his face as he boiled at the thought. "You have a duty to this team."

It was definitely not an opportune moment as you watched him chastise you to feel the warmth in your body, the firmness in his stance, the power as he spoke. The brief flashes of when he carried your body to safety. Your attraction to the man was your own issue to deal with but it always creeps up when you need it the least.

You had imagined it was the lack of action that had you so wanton for the man but after a few nights with your hand between your legs with his name on your tongue and even a few drunken nights in goodneighbour, you had come to the conclusion that there had to be a little more to it than that but even so, the knowledge didn't stop the way you felt weak with his attention solely on you, it didn't stop your gaze from lingering or the butterflies in your stomach as his voice carried within the room.

You swallowed. "There were civilians, Danse. I could not let them be another casualty of war."

"You shouldn't have disobeyed." He stated firmly, brows furrowed as his voice raised slightly. "We would've-"

"They would've died." You interrupted. "You can't expect me to watch that happen when we could-"

He was always softer when it came to you, he knew that, he would wager that you knew it as well. He dismissed and even ignored many actions that might've seemed harsh in anothers eyes but nothing quite like the action he would commit when his lips met yours, a quick action that his mind couldn't quite compute but at the same time he felt vindicated. An entirely unprofessional offense against much of what he told himself and how he arrived to behave but you felt so real with his hands pressed to the side of your face, so soft pressed to his lips, so warm and pliable when you didn't pull away.

"You need to learn your place." He whispered against your lips as he pulled away, hands falling to your hips and pressing into the flesh. So many thoughts circling that were both impure and against the ideals of the brotherhood when it came to subordinates and colleagues.

You bit into your lip as you looked up at him, not quite the place you saw the conversation moving but it was definitely not unwelcome, just surpising and a little distracting with the way his fingers pressed into you, causing your brain to play catch up and wonder if this was real or not and whether you could push forth in the direction you desperately wanted to go.

"Are you gonna show me where that is?“ you whispered, breathe feeling like it was sucked from your body as you anticipated his reaction. Damn the pulsing between your legs that could have you on your knees in front of this man with a mere motion, a mere sliver that he wouldn't reject it.

He was quick to move you after the question, pressing you against the desk and hovering above you as a few small objects from his desk tumbled to the floor.

"Do you want me to?“ he asked, searching your expression for any sign of discomfort, wondering if he read the situation wrong, part of him wanting you to be the one to stop this so he didn't go against any of the bos ideals but hoping to whatever merciless god was out there that you wouldn't.

"Yeah.."you said softly, pushing through some forced confidence as you cleared your throat, meeting his eyes with a new form of what you hoped was seen as assurance. "Yes."

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes stayed trained on you, an act that felt soft and intimate in the way silence fell until his hand slipped into your hair, grip tightening and crashing his lips to yours once more. You gave as fervently as you got, hands pressed to his chest.

His own hand lingered at your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and easily pulling it over your head and then came the bra, frustration evident as his need for you grew. An array of pushing and prodding as the frustration lingered in veins at the limitation the pieces of cloth supplied.

Finally he manages to push the small piece of clothing from your body to some place on the floor, watching you sit on his desk like this with an expression that anyone would call wanton. His hand cupped your breast in his hand, watching as you worried your lip between your teeth at the action. Softness even in sound when he ran his thumb over the bud.

He had been gentle in the journey to get you somewhat undressed but he hadn't forgotten the comment that lead him here, the boil within his blood at the thought of your actions and the unobstructed sight of the wound now before him. The image of you had not been enough to still the turmoil within him. The kindness he valued in you was the thing that would disregard order and yourself which brought him to this bridge but he could easily show you order, power, even show you your place as he had said. He would not be entirely wrong to say you place was under him but perhaps not in the sense that he would like and would enforce tonight.

He quickly undid the button of your pants, hands wrapping around your hips at a lingering thought, the need growing within him, a grip that lingered but didn't alarm you as he pulled you towards him but then a sudden shift as the direction changed, as he flipped you around, using his body to press you to the desk, hand pressing against against your upper back until you took the position he wanted. The new position added an ache to the wound on your torso, slight hiss that you doubt he even heard.

The desk was cool against your breast, anticipation as you kept yourself pressed to the surface, eyes looking behind at the man and only feeling the anticipation and want grow as his eyes travelled across your body.

"Such disobedience." He murmured as his hands slid down your back, fingers hooking in the waist and of the pants and pulling it over the curve of your ass along with your underwear. "Perhaps I had been too lenient with you." He stated, a tone that didn't quite match the content as his hands spread over your ass and squeezed. He lowered himself over your body, chest ghosting over your back as his lips pressed close to your ear and his own bulge pressing against your back side so temptingly. "I should correct that misstep, shouldn't I. Show you what insubordination gets you." He punctuated the word with the grind of his hips to yours.

You bit your lip as you spread your legs as much as you could given the pants around your thighs limiting your movement. Needing him to touch you in any way he wished, to use your body just as long as he touched you without all the layers between you.

The press of him eased up when he fiddled with his uniform, fighting to pry it from his body as quickly as possible at the sight of your pliable form. He hadn't bothered further than getting it passed his hips. For a moment he was dumbstruck, so many things he wanted but the uncertainty of whether he would get such a perfect opportunity to enact them made him slow to act, pressing two fingers to your entrance and spreading your slick and shallowly pressing into you to test the waters.

A whimper sounded past your lips as you closed your eyes at the feeling. It had been so long since someone else had touched you and though you had the nights where you had came around your fingers at the thought of him, it was miles apart from this, from his warm fingers spreading your cunt.

"That's a good girl."He commented, watching as his fingers disappear into your needy cunt, glistening in the light when he retracted, soft whimpers spilling from your lips and body rocking back against him softly. You were so compliant like this, such a pretty image that he would definitely be revisiting at a later time.

He removed his fingers from you, earning an annoyed sound and a glance back, he couldn't hide his glee at the state he could leave you in but at the same time, he needed to be inside you, needed you to clench around his cock and take him like you were meant to.

His hand wrapped around your hip, the other going to his cock and lining up. He pushed in slowly, groaning at the wetness until he settled, hips pressed to yours. The situation led you to believe he would give the time for you to adjust, he had always been accommodating and he had taken his time with pushing into you but he had other plans, other wants to allowed him to bypass that courtesy.

His hand slipped into your hair and tightened, pressing you to the desk if you just so happen to get any other ideas. His hips snapped, shallowly at first as he got used to the tightness. You cried out at the feeling, the pain that got dwarfed by the pleasure and he quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to silence your cries as he pressed closer to your ear.

"Wouldn't want anyone to come see what's wrong, would we?" He granted against your back, teeth scratching against your shoulder blade as he momentarily slowed his movements. "This is quite the position for a knight to be in."

Your hand wrapped around his wrist as his hips picked up the pace, closing your eyes as you took what he gave, imagining if someone did walk in, perhaps a scribe or Cade or even Maxson, seeing Danse give it to you, perhaps they could corroborate that this was real because it felt like you were floating, like he was splitting your skull in half and all you could do was think about how fucking full of him you felt. Punishment be damned, you needed them to know Danse was fucking you, that he chose you even if just a momentary lapse.

Suddenly he pulled out, flipping you over like you weighed nothing, you bit into your lip at the full sight of him, bare chest and cock at attention. He, on the other hand, had no notions of taking in the moment, taking hold of your legs and pressing them to your chest so he could get easy access to that tight cunt of yours, immediately pressing home at the first opportunity.

You moaned at the feeling, pressing your palm to your lips given his previous comments even with your own voyeuristic fantasies and the need to have him do it, to control every aspect of the situation, to set the perimeter and feel his hand press to the sides of your face as you just laid there and took it.

He could feel his end approaching, hand pressing and prodding at your skin at the thought of losing access, finally lingering at your clit at the thought of you coming on his cock.

"Hold this." He commanded, taking your free hand and wrapping it around your legs. You did as you were told, glossy eyes watching the man before you and then keening when he touched you, thumb rubbing against your clit in fast, tight circles and you knew you were done for.

"Danse.." you cried, hand slipping from your lips as you moaned into the air, neither of you seeming to care at the moment as his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor at the sound of his name falling from your lips. "Please-I.."

"I know." He stated, interuppting your train of thought. "Be a good girl and come for me."

Again, you did as he asked, feeling the warmth spread throughout your limbs as your walls clenched around him. The cry that left your lips would most likely be heard past his door followed by the mantra of his name as you fought through the intense emotion.

He had to fight to keep moving past the the clench of you, giving a few shallow thrusts before he came inside of you, ropes of his come hitting your walls as he stilled deep inside of you with a grunt of your name.

A few moments passed of heavy breathing before he pulled out, watching as his come slipped out of you which he promptly pushed back inside of you with two fingers which elicited a whimper from you.

Coming back to his sensibilities, he retracted from you, softly removing your hand from your legs and setting them to the floor and pulling you to a seating position. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled your pants back over your hips and then picked you up bridal style, wordlessly. He hoped you were alright, that he hadn't made a mistake by giving into his most base desires for you. He cared for you and he hoped for more than the structure provided under this militarristic life but that was a whole other can of worms.

He placed you in his bed, getting in behind you and wrapping an arm around your middle. He could steal this moment, could he not. If you were to resent him for his actions, at least he could pretend in this moment as you fall asleep pressed to his chest.

[cupidop]

You are mine.

Muzan Kibutsuji KNY

----------------------------

TW: muzanxfemreader, vaginal teasing, pet names, oral mentioned, teasing, sorta nsfw? (I'm still new to this, I do appreciate tips)

| It takes place in The Entertainment District Arc. You are one of the entertainers, and as you make it home after a long shift, a man greets you on your balcony|

------------------------------------------------------

You heavily sigh as you are packing up your things, a few men pass you. "I've seen your performance, the Tokito house is lucky to have you." A man complimented you. "Why don't you come back to my place, I'm sure your pretty tired, I can surely relax you." Another asked. "Thank you gentlemen, I'm flattered, really, but I have a boyfriend and I'm not ready to give this job up." You smile. They'd frown and continue their walk. You hop off of where you perform and make your way to the house, but your shoulder brushes up against someone. A tall man with black curly hair. He seems to be wearing a suit with a fedora on. You quickly turn around to see no one there. "I thought-..I must be really tired." You continue your path. As a performer, you lived with other ladies, and the owner is in charge of all of your performances and what goes on in the house. The Oiran is like the queen of the house. You level up in the house depending on how refined your skills were. Koinatsu was your oiran. She was a kind person. As your all greeted by the ladies and you head in your room, you sit with a loud exhale. Your feet hurt. You sit infront a small mirror wiping makeup off, your true beauty reveals itself. The pins in your hair are taken out, and you change into something more comfy. It was hot outside, so clothing that was thin was perfect. You wrap around a yukata around your shaped body, the silk felt like heaven on your dainty skin.

"My, my, I never knew how elegant you are, even when you are just changing." A voice lingers into your room. The lights outside have disappeared, but your room was still bright. Your head turn to your balcony doors, they were open, and a man stands there. His tap tipped over his eyes, it was the same man your accidentally bumped into. You quickly stand up. "You cannot be here! Leave at once." You demand. "How rude, speaking to someone who has great power like that." His hat tips up revealing his face. He was pale with crimson eyes. You couldn't help but blush from the sight. He stepped closer and you step back. "Your ways of making men slobber over you really makes me aroused." His voice was deep, but formal. You quickly grab a pin from your dresser, holding it up as if it was a knife. The man frowned, he was gone in the blink of an eye and right in front of you gripping your wrist that held the pin. His eyes gazed into yours with a terrifying expression. "My dear, I don't think you know who I am, my name is Muzan Kibutsuji, the demon king." He'd growl. Your eyes widened in realization. You were only warned by your boyfriend about him. He is a deadly man who has killed thousands, no, millions of lives. You start to shake, this was it for you. "Look at you so helpless like a little animal who was finally caught by its predator." An evil smirk planted on his face. "It makes me feral." As he spoke, you couldn't help but form tears in your eyes, you wanted to break down on the floor.

A hand cups your cheek, but before you could react, his other hand pushes you to the ground, making him pin you. A small whimper leaves your mouth with a gasp, but you weren't the only one surprised. Muzan's breathing became slightly heavy, it seems you were turning him on. As his hand, that cups your cheek, travels down to your inner thigh. You slam your thrighs together, but something stops them. His thigh was between yours. "No no, my little bunny." He'd chuckle. His thigh caresses against yours, as his knee moves up to the main part of your panties. "Please, get off of me!" You beg. Muzan's eyes narrows at yours. His head leans in towards your ear as he whispers, "I don't think I will." His knee shuffles closer to your cunt, as it brushes up against your panties. A small squeak leaves your mouth. His head lifts and his lips gets closer to yours. You could feel his hot breath, it was, irresistible. His mouth passionately plants onto yours, yours eyes get bigger by the moment, but then more relaxed until they closed. He was such a good kisser, you feel your body sucumb to him. You knew it was wrong but you didn't want to stop.

His tounge slips into your mouth, a light moan from you rests on his lips. His knee backs away and his fingers taps the base of your panties. You can feel your cunt start to become wet. As he's fiercely kissing you, a finger slips into the panties, now touching your clit. You'd gasp as a arm wraps around his back. "Hush sweet doll, your friends will hear us." He'd moan into your mouth. Hearing your delightful whimpers makes him want you even more. As he rubs around your bud, the hand starts to slip the panty off, then makes it way back to your drenched cunt. His fingers dance around your vulva, before his lips leave yours, a trail of saliva connects to your mouth.

NOTE - Hello thank you for reading all of it, I am sorta new to this thing, I love to write/type books, even the silly parts 🤭. Anyways, I took great inspiration from someone named muzansfangs, YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK THEM OUT! I'm thinking of making a part two if maybe enough people recognize it?? (ART ISN'T MINE) ☆⌒(＞。≪)

[void-ink-studios]

More Prohibited Wish Ideas because my brain is infested with worms and I can't be stopped

This is more a scene that's been slowly rotating in my head than anything else. Might write more of it, might just leave it here for y'all, but here it is!

This might be long, so the rest of it's under the cut.

Edit: I made the fanfic.

I'm obsessed with the idea that most of the cosmic entities have some kind of mundane origin. Prismo is the dream of an old man, perhaps a mortal wizard who got the Boss's attention and granted timeless immortality. The Cosmic Owl, perhaps was once the familiar to some primordial magic user. Perhaps many crawled out of the primordial soup in the time Before there was Nothing.

But Scarab?

Scarab was just that. A beetle. Perhaps a weird type of beetle able to speak on the level of a mortal human, but a beetle nonetheless. One that fought and reached and climbed far beyond what anyone thought possible. He got the Boss's attention. He was made functionally immortal, given a more imposing body, given responsibilities beyond what a bug is ever meant to achieve. God Auditor was not his first choice, but it's still higher than what was thought possible.

Prismo doesn't strike me as the type to care much about where someone may come from. But he is an exception among the pantheon.

Gods do not let Scarab forget what he was. What he still is, to many of them. A bug. The other gods find Scarab unsightly. They're visibly disgusted by his strange mouth and wide eyes and odd chirps.

So Scarab hides behind his mask. He hides his extra arms unless it's necessary. He turns his exoskeleton into a prim and proper suit. But it's never enough. Not enough to make the other gods forget what he is.

Orbo certainly doesn't. And he takes the chances to remind Scarab that he's lucky to be here. And that he's not meant to be here. It's why Orbo takes steps to cripple the Scarab, should the auditor ever be demoted back to mortal. He takes his antenna. And he takes his wings.

And then, Scarab is demoted. He's relegated to being the Wishmaster's assistant. Janitor is the more accurate title. And Scarab is back to feeling like a pinned insect, now trapped with another god who will most certainly not fail to remind him that he's lucky he's not back to crawling in mud. Because Prismo certainly knows, doesn't he?

Except, that's not what happens.

Prismo is kind. He's respectful, in his own strange way. When Scarab accidentally makes his odd chirps, the Wishmaster finds it cute. When he learns to crawl along the walls as a shadow, Prismo doesn't seem to mind.

And when Scarab lets the mask fall, Prismo finds him endearing, rather than unsightly.

So Scarab starts embracing himself again. He's in a space where he is not thought of as disgusting or undeserving. He's allowed to be strange in the ways his origin would suggest, even encouraged. He gets comfortable in his own shell again.

And then Orbo visits.

And Orbo questions why Scarab's hanging out on the ceiling. And why his mask is gone. And what's with all the gross noises he's making. And Scarab retreats again. He let himself be too comfortable. He should've known better.

But Prismo is horrified.

He calls Orbo out. That's not a cool thing to do to a friend. Why should Scarab have to hide all the time.

Orbo tries to "reason" with the Wishmaster. Why should Prismo care? He should be thanking him for getting the bug back in line.

"He's not cool, not like us, Prismo. You're the dream of a right powerful wizard. I'm the core of a collapsed magic star. Him? He's just... Well, just look at him. He's just a bug. Shouldn't have been able to get where he was in the first place. He's lucky we didn't send him back to crawling in the mud broken."

And that's when Prismo learns what happened to his friend. Why some days he can't seem to stand up straight. Or why some days he has to spend in the Time Core, curled up and out of sight.

And that's when Scarab learned what a Wishmaster's wrath looked like.

-----------------------------

Like I said, no idea if I'll fully write it out. I might. But I at least wanted to dump this thought onto something, so enjoy babes.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

FHey! If requests are still open, could you do fudge brownie + daisy please 👉🏻👈🏻

Hi! OMG welcome to my first ever Sabo fic I'm so excited, I hope it's good!

Pairing: Sabo x Revolutionary Afab!Reader

WC: 2300 I got carried away lmao

Prompt: “I can’t even speak when I’m with you, all the words I’ve known are lost inside your body.” 

— — 

You and Sabo had known each other for a decade at this point. He was your superior, being the Chief of Staff, but you weren’t too far behind. You trained in the Revolutionary Army together when you were younger. He was your close friend, but you had no idea that he felt differently about you this whole time. 

— —

*Y/N & Sabo, age 12* 

“Stop smacking me with that stupid pipe, ugly rat!” You whine and cover your head with your arms. “We’re supposed to be training, anyway!” You kick your leg out at the obnoxious blonde boy who was nearly a foot shorter than you. 

“Rat? You’re the little rat, rat!” Sabo continued his barrage with his metal pipe. He had the urge to engage you in combat after he saw you practicing fighting with another trainee. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt the need to shift your focus to him, but he knew he had to get your attention somehow. 

“Get away from me, weirdo!” You push him on the ground and go back to your place on the training ground. 

Sabo snarled at you as you walked away. He would get you to fight him eventually. 

— —

*Y/n and Sabo, age 17* 

“You! Won’t! Ever! Win!” Your weapon hit Sabo’s repeatedly as you were caught in the heat of your daily sparring session. After wearing you down years ago, you agreed to train combat with him every morning.

“Hah!” Sabo huffs out with a smile. “That’s what you think, y/n. I’ve been getting special training from the boss and I’m going to learn powers you’ll never have!”

“Oh yeah?” You snort. “Well, until then, your ass is mine!” With those final words you land a blow and hear Sabo’s pipe clatter to the ground. You use your last strike to knock his top hat off his head. You smirk. Once again, he is defeated. Sabo pants heavily, chest close to yours and looking down at you now that he’s grown to almost his full height. You feel his hot breath on your nose. Sabo looks into your eyes, his own round eyes filled with the vigor of battle but also a little extra… sparkle. 

*bddpp bddpp bddpp* 

Sabo is knocked out of his trance by the sound of his mini den den mushi ringing in his coat pocket. He reaches in to his jacket, pulls it out and answers it. 

“Yes?”

*muffled voices on the other line*

“We’ll be right there.” Sabo hangs up the snail. 

“Boss wants us. Special mission again.” Sabo meets your eyes again as he slips the snail back into his coat. 

“Fine, maybe you’ll learn something from me this time.” You playfully wink at Sabo and turn tail to jog up the road towards the base. Sabo felt something stir inside him when he saw you wink and smile at him. You had become so beautiful and it was hard for him to ignore his feelings any longer…

“I’m so fucked…” Sabo laughs to himself before he hurries after you. 

— —

*Y/n and Sabo, age 23* 

You speed-walk through the halls of the base towards the Chief of Staff’s office. You reach the office door and rip it open without knocking. 

“Oh almighty, all powerful, all knowing, Chief of Staff, I finished the absolute FUCK ton of paperwork you requested.” You dramatically flail the passive stack of papers you spent all day working on around in the air as you strode angrily towards the blonde man at his desk. 

“Incredible to hear, y/n.” Sabo flashed you a smile as you slammed the papers down in front of him on his desk and rolled your eyes. 

“Still can’t believe you got this promotion. Would’ve been mine if I had a penis…” You grumble as you fold your arms as you walk towards the door to leave. 

“Come on, y/n. You know I have a year on you in rank. Not sure how much it has to do with my, um…” Sabo organizes the papers in front of him instead of finishing his sentence. 

“Whatever.” You move to leave. You hear Sabo let out a big sigh behind you. You had to admit you missed your sparring sessions and occasional lunches together since he got his promotion. He didn’t have as much time to train and hang out as he used to. As annoying as he was, you did miss his company. You grab the door in your left hand and pause. You turn back towards Sabo who was sitting at his desk with his head hung low. 

“Hey… me and some of the guys having beers tonight. You should join us.” You give Sabo a small smile as he looks up at you from across the room. 

“Yeah? You think?” Sabo cocks his head.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t kill you to get out of this sad-ass office for once.” You chuckle warmly and head back to your room, shutting the office door behind you. 

— —

*5 hours later*

You sat in the dimly lit mess hall with several of your Revolutionary Army counterparts imbibing the last of the alcohol stores before you restocked tomorrow. 

“I was up to my fucking ass in paperwork all day, can we do shots instead?” You finish your beer and slam the empty bottle down on the wooden table. 

“Girl, you read my mind!” Koala grabs shot glasses out of the cabinet and brings them to the table and starts to fill them with clear liquor. 

Suddenly, the swinging door to the mess hall opens and the Chief of Staff strolls in. The merriment pauses and everyone turns to look towards Sabo standing in the middle of the room. 

“Speaking of paperwork. Come take a shot, Chief…” You grab another shot glass and add it to the line of shots Koala was pouring. Once full, you raise one for yourself and another shot for Sabo, which he gingerly steps towards you and grabs to raise against your shot glass. The rest of the party including Koala raise their shots to the center to meet yours. You meet Sabo’s eyes across the circle from you. You make a toast. 

“To us, to the revolution, and to no regrets.” You smile and clink your shots together. Your friends hoot and holler. After a messy clank, you all down your liquor. Sabo coughs and sputters along with a few other army members. You and Koala laugh. 

“Chief of Staff can’t handle his white rum? What kinda man of the seas is that?” You slur out at Sabo and giggle. 

You all pour more drinks and sink in your seats to continue the celebration. As the night went on, you felt Sabo creep closer and slower to you, eventually ending up at your side as you played cards with a few others. Clearly the alcohol was affecting him as he sidled up close to your body. You heard Sabo giggle to himself and he leaned into your neck and slipped his hand onto your thigh. He began to whisper. 

“How about I show you what kind of man of the sea I am y/n, huh?…” 

You pull back and look at him with wide eyes. He had never shown affection to you in this way, you were shocked. You took far too long to formulate a response. 

“Y/n… I-I’m sorry! I-I’ll see you tomorrow!” Sabo stutters out at you, clearly embarrassed. 

Sabo was already out the door of the mess hall before you could respond. 

“Sabo, wait!” He was gone. You rise out of your seat and go to follow him to his quarters. 

Not bothering to knock (again), you ripped the door of Sabo’s room open. He was stripped of his hat and jacket sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. 

“Sabo…” You lower your voice and move towards him. He doesn’t lift his head. 

“I apologized, y/n. Can we just forget about that. That’d be great.” Sabo still remains motionless. 

You walk slowly to right in front of where he has his head hung. You quietly drop to your knees, one at a time, and hold his head in your hands. You bring his face up gently to meet your eyes. 

“Hey… you didn’t give me a chance to answer your question…” You smile and look into his welling, shameful eyes. 

“W-what?” 

“Show me what kind of man of the seas you are, Sabo.” You whisper to him as you hold his face in your palms. 

Wordlessly, Sabo pushes his lips into yours and grabs your neck to pull you into him further. You tangle your tongues and lips together and take fistfuls of each others hair as you engaged in a kiss years in the making. 

It was messy, it was needy, but neither of you progressed beyond kissing for several minutes. The two of you were just relishing in the feeling of years of pent up emotions coming to a head. Sabo removes himself from your lips and moves down your neck. He bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder before he whispers to you. 

“How long… how long have you felt this way…? How long have I waited?” Sabo breaths out into your hot skin. 

“I.. I don’t know…” You grasped at his broad shoulders as he nips and sucks at your sensitive neck.  “I just know I need you now…” 

“I’ve loved you since I saw you, y/n…” Sabo moves lower on your body and lifts your shirt and bra over your head swiftly. He kisses your exposed chest and grips your breast and lifts it so he can take your nipple in his mouth. You head lolls back and you sigh as he moves his lips to the other nipple while squeezing the abandoned one with his fingers. He continues his confession to you. 

“Years ago… I remember it was my birthday… 20 maybe?” Sabo says as he kisses from your breast down to the waistline of your pants. “You wore a pink dress… just barely covered your ass… that was when I knew…” He continues to kiss your abdomen and begins to unbutton your pants and shimmies them down your legs with your panties. You were now naked in front of your childhood friend. Sabo pushes you back on the bed and spreads your legs as he kneels in front of you. He silently gasps as he lays eyes on your dripping sex, mere inches in front of him. 

“That was when I knew I had to have you like this. Spread out, open for me.” Sabo leans in and takes a tentative slurp from the bottom of your hole to the top of your mound. You gasp at the sensation on your cunt. 

“Sabo! Please! More!” You writhe in his grip on your thighs. Sabo obliges and licks you up and down again, slowly. 

“You don’t need to beg, y/n, not from me. I’d give you the sea if you asked me for it… I just want to please you…” And with this declaration, Sabo dives into your pussy fully and attaches his lips to your aching clit. He swirls his tongue and suctions his mouth in ways that have you screaming and arching your back towards the ceiling of Sabo’s private quarters. You feel yourself being brought towards the precipice of pleasure when Sabo sticks two fingers in your hole and you whine and clench around his digits. 

“Sabo! C-close!” You moan out. 

“Do it, sweet girl, cum for me…” Sabo mumbles into your cunt and continues sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit. You cum hard into Sabo’s waiting mouth and flop back onto the bed with heaving breaths. Sabo rubbed soothing circles onto your pussy with his palm as he pulled back. You twitched at the gentle stimulation. 

“Shit, Sabo, I didn’t… I didn’t know…” You tried to catch your breath. He brought his body over your own on the bed and kissed you deeply. You pulled back and stared into his eyes. His blonde hair was disheveled, and you had so rarely seen him without his stupid hat, you felt like you were seeing him even more intimately than just naked. 

“Shh… I know that now… Let me show you how much I want you….” Sabo sheds his pants and hops up on top of you. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself in slowly. The both of you moan out loud at the feeling. 

With Sabo’s huge cock spearing you, you grab the back of his head and push it into your neck. 

“Fuck! Sabo!” You cry out as he sucks on your neck again, pulling himself out and thrusting back into you. 

“Y/n… You have no idea how hard it’s been… having to work like this...” Sabo whispers into your ear as he fucks you slowly yet deeply. “I can’t even speak when I’m with you, all the words I’ve known are lost inside your body.” Sabo speeds up his thrusts and pulls your lower back upwards to hit your most precious spot. Sabo fucks you hard and passionately, nothing but soft praises and moans filling the room. 

“You’re everything I need, y/n… tell me you’re mine…” Sabo leans in over you as he pushes your knees back to your ears. 

In your lust filled haze you look him in his round, sparkling eyes and confess to him. 

“I-I’m yours, Sabo…” You grip the hair at the back of his neck tighter. 

“Y/n… yes…” Sabo pushes harder into your sweet spot with his rigid cock as he pushes you over the edge of climax and watches you keen and whine with pleasure. As Sabo feels you clench and cream all over his dick he finds himself uncontrollably releasing all over your insides. He comes to after a powerful orgasm and leans back to watch all his pent-up load drip out of your hole around the edges of his cock. He tried not to get hard again as he pulled out and flopped down onto the bed beside you. 

After a few quiet moments with only your breathing and the lapping of waves at the rocks on the edge of the base, Sabo turns over and pulls you into his grasp. 

“So… I finally win?” The Chief of Staff smirks as he caresses your lower back. 

“For now….” You smirk and nuzzle into his chest to fall asleep. 

xx Mo

[letrune]

You know what annoys me in Harry Potter?

And let us imagine for a moment that the author is Hatsune Miku. That it is an adaptation of Neil Cicierega's Potter Puppet Pals. That Warner Bros is not holding the franchise with patents and trademarks well beyond the powers of even millionaires.

Ah, nice to imagine, isn't it? Still with me?

The books are wasted potential. Every new thing coming in helps to show how the magical world is as flawed and xenophobic as regular, mundane version of it. Slavery, segregation by "blood purity", racial segregation, magic supremacy and cishet white male magic supremacy, too.

And then a downtrotten guy shows up. He is a hero, has loads of cash and a fame beyond his age. You would think the dude from the literal closet would CHANGE THE SYSTEM. To push along a new, better, more liberated, more equal world. Maybe even prevent the next bad guy from rising by removing the key aspects that made him rise to power, like slavery, the segregations, the supremacist ideas, and so on. Even if just pushing it in a way.

You would think the main character would fix the system. You know why?

Because every fantasy story, even if by just getting the just and wise king or queen on the throne, does that. The Lord of the Rings does not end by blowing up Sauron. It goes on, the world has to be changed to prevent a new, different Sauron. We saw glimpes on how anyone, even the purest heart, could go down that path.

So why can't this boy who lives in a closet? It is WASTED POTENTIAL. Imagine the stories you can tell! Now that you got a better world coming, would the old jerks not hate it? Would some change? What new issues arise? It is a fantasy, so you can do whatever you want - and then go the Man in Black route and have the magical slowly dripped into the mundane. Or, again, as with the (comic book) Men in Black, we had shown how even the utopian parts get issues not seen before, all based on xenophobia, human folly, etc.

You make a status quo that sucks, and then GO AND CHANGE IT. The big bad in a bad system is not the guy with the biggest gun, but the system that fails.

Oh, sure, you can make a story about the cyclical nature of revolutions - and yes, a bloodless revolution is the best for the little people, but in fiction, we may have the bad guys represent issues. So, you can make a story where a revolution leads to another in the next cycle. But...

You have to change the bad systems. Say that some things may change. Even if it is just a new school being put forward in the end, with empathy, and two characters talking about how the world will change if they keep going on... You have to change. The utopian status quo is the only one what the audience may like to be returned to.

When Bilbo comes back to the Shire, it is almost the same, but Bilbo himself changed. It was a bit for the better, but not that much that new stories could not be told... and what he thought as the status quo is shown to have changed. He became more artistic. He wrote a book, inspired by his "miserable adventure"... and then, later, Tolkien slipped in the ring from the sequel. It was not in the original draft! The ending did not changed, but we had a plot hook.

Though, Tolkien already had given us all the potential in the story. He hinted at a bigger world.

So imagine Miku, writing a thing but then she does not develop the things. The potential goes wasted, and when it returns, it has this "stop nagging me, here, a stupid retcon for your stupid questions" thing. Potential squandered! Wasted! No wonder the fans would go to write their own, for better or worse.

I am so happy Hatsune Miku is a talented writer and not some woman slipping into right-wing hatred, akin to some dude who loves gold and the aesthetics of power, and having none of it in his tiny hands or something. That would be-

Oh. I just realised the intro to this rant. Well, now that the train is deralied, what is my point?

If you write a story with systemic issues, you should at least attempt to resolve some of them. You got slavery? Have the main character and their friends free slaves and ban slavery when they get the power to do so.

You got a sort of space cyborg wizard nazi movement? Your character has the potential to punch them in the face, alongside B. J. Blazkowicz and Captain America, WHILE ALSO breaking the systems the space cyborg wizard nazies rely on. In fact, it should be what you do, because while your heroes give the cool action scenes, they also show their intelligence and empathy by PREVENTING new space cyborg wizard nazies coming into existence and fixing the inequalities in the world.

Sure, it is not as cool to see Mr. Potter to write a new constitution about equal rights than seeing him in a wizard duel with wizard nazies, but you can have both. This is fantasy!

You can get the audience to believe that a man can fly, that a single guy can save the world by throwing a ring into a volcano, or that a boy living in a closet is a chosen one - letting them change the world for the better is not a stretch, it is catharsis! That is where the happy ending happens.

[joannechocolat]

Dear Mr X...

It’s hard to give up a relationship, even when it has become toxic. Even when it brings you no joy, it’s hard to accept the fact that you’re better off without it. To look at the time you spent building it, to write off those years and start again can feel like jumping off a cliff into a bottomless precipice. You start to think of all the things you’ll lose if the relationship ends; the good times, the shared friends, the laughter and the memories. Your heart sinks at the thought of trying to rebuild all that from scratch. The time. The work. The energy. It feels like a bereavement.

I feel like that about Twitter now. A relationship that began fifteen years ago, when I was someone different, and the platform was new and hopeful and designed for communication, rather than spreading division. Sometimes I still find myself mourning that time; the friends I made; the stories I wrote, the thousands of incarnations of the Shed. Some of my friends have been left there for good, their Twitter accounts frozen in time; their words all that remains of them. Perhaps that’s why I’m reluctant to leave, even though the bluebirds have flown, and even the logo is changing to something that looks to me a lot like a modified swastika – an apt comparison, given the way in which certain voices and political views have been given unasked-for prominence, while others seem to have vanished altogether from my feed. Feed someone garbage for long enough, and they start to sicken and die. That’s what happening via this site. I have watched it happening ever since Elon Musk arrived - a man so cartoonishly self-obsessed that it’s hard to even believe he’s real, except that no writer of fiction or game designer would dream of creating such a crass and substandard character.

X. What a choice of symbol.

X marks the spot for pirates in search of buried treasure. X is the mark of a person who is unable to write their name. X is the identity of someone who needs to stay anonymous. It’s a voter’s mark; an erasure; a mystery; a chromosome.

And it’s also an occult symbol, a rune: the rune Gyfu according to the Old English Futhorc, and Gebo in the Elder Futhark; both of which translate as “gift”.

The Anglo-Saxon rune poem that accompanies it goes like this:

ᚷ Gẏfu gumena bẏþ gleng and herenẏs, ƿraþu and ƿẏrþscẏpe and ƿræcna gehƿam ar and ætƿist, ðe bẏþ oþra leas.

which translates as follows:

Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity; it furnishes help and subsistence to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.

At first glance, this seems the opposite of what Elon Musk has done for the world. A man who sees social media as his own personal platform; a man who sees the cosmos as his own personal joy-ride.

The mistake we made was believing that Twitter was our playground. Elon Musk has made it his, and is currently in the process of breaking the toys, chopping down the trees and nuking the site from orbit, just to prove that play is overrated, and that only money counts. I can’t help feeling sorry for the little boy he must have been, and to wonder what he might have been like if he’d actually had any friends. But it’s time: and the change of branding makes it even easier to step away.

So maybe this is a kind of gift to the ones of us leaving Twitter. Misinformation, misogyny, transphobia, conspiracy theories and other kinds of social media poison have already made it increasingly difficult to feel safe there. (And fun fact, the word Gift in German happens to mean “poison”.) Perhaps the ultimate gift of X is the freedom from the toxicity that has built up in this most volatile of media; the gift of better mental health; of greater connection to our world; an escape from a toxic fantasy back into the open air.

I won’t leave altogether – Threads still isn’t open to Europe, and the jury’s still out on Bluesky - but I don’t want to give any more of my content to a man who values power and money over human connection. I’m @joannechocolat across all my social media - that’s Threads, Bluesky, Tumblr and Instagram – and I’ll still be posting stories on my ko-fi account at: https://ko-fi.com/story. But if you want to know what I’m doing, then sign up to my free newsletter on my website at joanne-harris.co.uk. I’m coming to believe that social media as I once knew it may have run its course for me: I won’t leave it altogether, but from now on I plan to invest more of my time and energy elsewhere.

And as for Mr X - I doubt you’ll be around forever. But while you are, my gift to you is this final story: written live on Twitter, as was, for all the little bluebirds.

There once was a boy who had no friends. His father gave him everything money can buy: toy cars, model aeroplanes, even rockets that really flew, but friends were impossible to buy, and the boy was lonely, angry, and bored. 

One day, when he was playing alone with one of his expensive toys, he saw a group of children playing in a nearby park. They sounded so merry and carefree that the boy was jealous. 

“Why don’t I have friends?” he cried. “I shall buy the park, and then everyone will notice me.”

And so the boy asked his father to buy him the park for his very own; and he settled there with his expensive toys, and put a notice on the gate, saying: Entrance fee, 8 shillings.

The children of the neighbourhood looked enviously at the empty park. Some of the wealthier ones paid the entry fee, but many of the children did not; instead, they waited outside the gates, and looked into the place where once they had all played together.

But still the boy was not content. None of the new children played with him. Instead they played their own games, and climbed trees, or played hide and seek, or lay on the grass watching the clouds. None of this served the boy at all, and he was sulky and discontent.

“If I have all the trees cut down, then maybe the others will notice me,” he thought.

And so he ordered his servants to cut down all the trees in the park. But apart from a few toadies and flatterers, the children still did not play with him, but mocked him secretly from afar, and fell silent whenever he passed by.

“How ungrateful these children are,” said the boy, getting angry. “I bought this park for them, and still they refuse to play with me! Very well, I shall cease to pay the groundsmen and the gardeners. The park will be overrun with weeds. Wild animals will roam there.”

And so the boy did as he had promised, and the park became a wilderness. No-one wanted to pay for it, and even the toadies and flatterers and children of wealthy families went elsewhere to see their friends.

The boy was very angry at this, but there was no-one to be angry with. All the other children had gone. And so he took out his rage on the deer who had begun to roam in the park, shooting them with his toy crossbow, and became known throughout the land as a mighty hunter.

[minus500socialcredit]

Kay to me is an underrated character, she is so over-hated in my eyes and it’s understandable in the sense that Michael is the ‘protagonist’ and Apollonia was the best match for this protagonist that we follow however there are many things to say in Kay’s defence and why she should not be as overlooked as she is.

I’ll start of with the obvious, she fell in love with a sweet, kind-hearted man who fought for his country and wanted nothing to do with his family’s “business”. Instead of judging him on the bases of his family and arguing that she cannot be with him because of what his father does, she judged him by his own character and his own autonomy to choose what he does. That in its self is a very overlooked factor about Kay, she judges Michael on his own self and has the heart to do so, she loves Michael despite what his family is like and not many people do that. She was shocked to say the least when Michael told her about the story of how Johnny Fontaine became famous yet she still listened to Michael’s classic “it’s my family Kay not me”.

Michael decided to avenge his fathers shootings and proceeds to evacuate to Sicily to seek refuge as he had just committed murder. Kay is left in the dark in all of this, she even proceeds to tell Michael that she’s called and written over a hundred times and he never answered, he left and got married to another woman, whom I adore very much and I know that if he stayed with Apollonia the godfather would have been a completely different story and Michael would have not been as tragic of a character, but Kay was not told about any of this. She did not receive any closure and tried to still keep in contact with the man she loves. She then of course gives up because you can only try so much when the person you love does not reply to anything.

Then of course Michael returns to Kay because Apollonia has died and he has to come back to America, it’s so overlooked how manipulated Kay was in that scene. Her kindness was taken advantage of and her emotion too. She was vulnerable and that vulnerability was used. Michael tells her that in five years their family business will be legitimate and that his father is no different from a senator or a lawyer which in fact is not false, however in Kay’s eyes since she was very naive at this point, she did not understand all the evil that goes on with powerful people even politicians and senators. He gets her back together with him because of her kind heart and proceeds to lie to her a lot. Including the classic lie about killing Carlo.

He has taking advantage of her naivety to the point where she had to act on the worst, her kindness was truly taken for weakness and because of that she knew what was at stake for her family. In a deleted scene of ‘the godfather part II’ Anthony runs up to Michaels button men and Kay runs after him to stop him. This shows how corrupt her and Michaels son Anthony is becoming. She knew she had to get Anthony away from this toxic world or he would end up like all the men that surround him. “Look what’s happened to our son” she screams at Michael later on in the film and “Anthony’s friends are your button men” which is what this scene was foreshadowing. Her anger is seen to her son becoming in a corrupt state of mind, he’s an insecure little boy who rarely sees his father yet looks up to him so much, of course there was much for Kay to worry about.

Going back to how Michael told Kay that the family will be legitimate in 5 years “well that was 7 years ago” Kay rightfully states. She can tell at the height of Michaels power he will never change, he has been don for 7 years now and has not backed out. His father was avenged yet he’s still continuing because once you’re up it’s unlikely you will come down and Kay can see that very clear with Michael as he did not keep the promise he made to Kay. She knew that no matter how much longer she would stay Michael would never change his ways even when he says “I swear I’ll change I’ve learnt I have the strength to change” Kay saw right through that because of all the lies she has been subjected to.

Over all this abuse to her lead to Kay leaving Michael in one of the cruellest ways, taking away his unborn child and attempting to take away his children. Was it cruel yes, however it was very much justified in the sense that Michael has abused her psychology for years, she only wanted to escape. She was physically trapped and mentally trapped in a world she hated and did not want to subject her children to and that in itself took a lot of strength. We all clearly know that the abortion hurt Michael but nobody ever thought about the pain Kay went through, physical and psychological, those are only of the abortion. This is her child that she was going to love as well, yet she felt she had no other choice but to get an abortion. There is also the pain of getting to the stage of the abortion, Kay’s emotions in all of the godfather is ver under-appreciated she is also a tragic character.

I will conclude all of this with a thesis of Kay being a misunderstood character who is over-despised and equally as tragic. Michael wanted a western independent woman and when he got that woman he couldn’t handle her, everything that came from Kay was very justified and Michael while he will always be my favourite character it has to be understood that he was a psychopath who was always within the depth of his own loneliness Kay was subjected to Michael’s powerful ‘wrath’ and did what she had to do.

Thank you for reading and have a great day!

[achaotichuman]

More tamlin headcanons pretty pweeseeee bbygirl pretty pweeseeee

Well I can't ignore the bbygirl calling can !?

You did not specify any particular ship so I take this as free reign to write whatever the fuck I please about Tamlin.

Tamlin has curly hair, he just doesn't wear it out because his father forced him to keep it straight and short as a child, since long curly hair was considered 'girly'. His mother has curly hair and behind his father's back taught him how to take care of it. When he has his own daughter who has curly hair he passes on his mother's knowledge to her.

Tamlin's eyes glow in the dark. Lucien once shit himself because he walked into a dark room and just saw two green eyes staring at him.

Tamlin's power act out against him at times. Shapeshifting claws will cause his hands to bleed. Antlers will create a splitting migraine. Fangs will make his teeth ache. He is also prone to forgetting what his normal form is and getting trapped in a humanoid creature form that is not quite Fae, not quite Beast and not quite human.

Tamlin sleeps in Lucien's room A LOT because he runs cold at night and Lucien is basically his personal hot water bottle.

Azriel and Cassian didn't approve of Rhysand's friendship with Tamlin BECAUSE RHYSAND JUST BROUGHT HIM HOME ONE DAY AND WAR NEARLY BROKE OUT BECAUSE SPRING THOUGHT TAMLIN HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED AND CASSIAN AND AZRIEL HAD TO SNEAK TAMLIN BACK and they just really don't want that to happen again.

Tamlin and Rhysand were married for six months before they broke up, in that time Rhysand, in clear Rhysand fashion, had everything he owned put in both his and Tamlin's names so instead of doing things like Tamlin wanted to. Aka just have everything moved back into Rhysand's name. Rhysand wrote a list detailing everything that was Tamlins and what was Rhysand's (he did that to rub it in how they were FULLY AND COMPLETELY broken up) They sealed it in a bargain. Thing is Rhysand forgot to put the Moonstone Palace on the list. So Tamlin technically owns it, and because of the magic can come to claim it at any given moment, (that's also the real reason Rhysand wiped everyone's memories of Velaris).

Whenever Tamlin as a kid got a little too angry, Andras would grab him by his ankles and hold him upside down until he was calm. As an adult Tamlin is a little too big for that, but the lesson stayed and whenever he starts to lash out, all Andras has to do is reach for his ankles and Tamlin is scrambling away.

Once when Tamlin's back was turned to him, whilst he was staring out over the ocean, Lucien rushed at him to shove him into the water. Tamlin heard him coming and grabbed Lucien right as he went to shove him and tossed him into the sea. Lucien was not happy.

When he misses his mother, Tamlin climbs onto the tall oak in the middle of the gardens and sits in the branches. It was the tree him, his mother, and sometimes his brothers escaped too when his father made their life too hellish to remain inside. All their names are carved into the trunk of the tree.

When he was five years old, Tamlin's eldest brother gave him armour he wore in the War. It was one of the only nice things he ever did for him, and when he was first given them, Tamlin couldn't even pick up the breastplate. He wore the armour in the War against Hybern.

Tamlin can use his magical control of the wind and air to manipulate the weather. Sometimes in the dead of night, he will escape out to the forests with his fiddle and as he loses himself to his music his magic will react and cause terrifying thunderstorms.

Tamlin will have horrific nightmares of everyone he knows being tortured and killed by Amarantha, his father and brothers, or Rhysand. When he wakes up from them the first thing he will do is go to everyone's rooms and make sure they are still alive and sleeping soundly, this quickly became the only way to prevent him from having panic attacks after he wakes up. Since the destruction of his Court and everyone leaving him, Tamlin can't check on everyone and often has intense panic attacks, his mind convincing him the nightmares came true and everyone is dead.

Before he was High lord, Tamlin played in a small band in different taverns and out in markets. Once at a High lord's meeting, a Courtier attended who recognised him as the kid with the fiddle and the good voice and gushed to him about how much he loved his songs. Fully unaware Tamlin was the High lord of Spring. Everyone was very confused.

Tamlin likes to lay in Lucien's bed when he's gone. Tamlin sometimes also likes shapeshifting into a snake. Put the two together and you get to hear just how high-pitched Lucien's screams are.

Once a large pack of wolves descended on the Spring Manor, killed many livestock, were threatening to a lot of Fae. The sentries and Tamlin went to investigate. They found them hiding in the forests, but as the sentries went to fire and kill, they turned to see Tamlin nearly dying from cuteness as he gave one of the wolves belly rubs while saying "Who's a good boy??? You're a good boy!!!!! Yes you are!! Yes you are!!!" Now that pack of wolves follows Tamlin around and obeys his beck and call.

Tamlin does not like waking up early if he can avoid it. Lucien is always up early and goes downstairs to drink coffee and read his book. Tamlin does not like waking up and not seeing Lucien, so Lucien has taken to bringing his coffee upstairs and reading his book in bed. Now Tamlin wakes up nearly every morning to the smell of coffee and spice, Lucien's fingers in his hair, and seeing him enthralled in his book. Tamlin will not make a sound and just watches him while basking in the feeling of him stroking his hair.

Tamlin had a crush on Norstrus.

[charmolyuphe]

What happened to Lilith? (Hazbin Hotel theory)

As we all know, Vizziepop kept an aura of mystery around some characters and things in the show. I think that the character that got che fans more theories is actually Lilith. I’ve read and listened a lot of theories and opinions about her, and since some time I wanted to share mines.

What do we know about her?

In the serie, exception made for other sources of informations (like instagram posts or lives) we can tell some things. We actually know that she was the first woman and Adam’s wife,even before Eve. In the first episode they said : “From the dust of Earth they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of mankind, but despite this Adam demanded control and Lilith refused to submit to his will. She fled the garden. Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.” Then the two of them tempted Adam and Eve with the fruit of knowledge of good and evil. In the book that Charlie reads at the begin of first episode it’s said that ‘they wished to share the magic of free will with the humanity’, and that makes me think that this book was written with the perspective of Lucifer (we can see in the serie that he is deeply sad about the effects of free will on the humanity, he was sincere, but I think that he regrets doing it) so I think that we don’t actually know what Lilith’s purposes were, but for now we don’t have any clue that she had hidden intentions, or at leas not completely.

“But with this fruit EVIL found it’s way on Earth.” For this they were sent in Hell. But while Lucifer became more and more sad, Lilith thrived with her songs and her powers blossomed. So we actually know that she took advantage from the whole situation, and I think that she must have cared a lot about Hell’s situation because her powers depended by this. Well, she then married Lucifer and they had Charlie. But now, in the current timeline it’s said that they split up and she is now missing since seven years.

The divorce and ‘More than anything’.

As we know, her and Lucifer split up. We don’t actually know why the two of them separated, but we surely know that at least for Lucifer has been much suffered separation (considering that he still wears his ring). It’s weird, because Vivienne said that they were a canonically very close and sugary copule, and looking at all the portraits in Lucifer’s room they seemed a very happy family. I know that this means nothing, but still they didn’t even give a hint about the reasons of their divorce. I can see the first cracks of the family in the flashback of ‘More than anything’, something about this whole scene feels a bit off. I’m not talking about the fact that we didn’t see Lilith’s face (because this can perfectly be a directorial choice for focus the song on the father-daughter relationship), but in the way that they made us see her (probably with Charlie’s perspective). I don’t know, something feels wrong about how she picks up Charlie and take her away. It’s not what I think the woman that we saw in the portraits would have done, or at least she wouldn’t have been presented with this obscure aura around her. It’s like she was trying to take away Charlie from her dad, even if Lucifer doesn’t seem worried or sad when Lilith picks her up. Was it probably at the beginning of the problems in their relationship? Charlie doesn’t seem completely sure in her mother’s harms.

The differences with the portraits and…

the similarities with Eve?

I’m not saying a lot about this because a lot of creators already pointed it out, so if you want to see more differences go to check other video that compares them.

If you want to see more of it go to check other channels of blogs.

Taking up again the flashback of ‘More than anything’ I think that it’s uncanny the similarities between Lilith and Eve. I mean we don’t actually know Eve’s appearance, and why keep her hidden and mystify it? Yes, it’s probably because they wanted to make that book sound like a tale , but still… The hair, but especially their smiles are very similar. (I mean the similarities between how Eve is represented in the first episode and the woman who is ‘supposed’ to be Lilith in ‘More than anything’).That makes me think that Lilith and Eve are indeed similar, but at the same time different: like two identical twins with small differences in style (Lilith’s hair are in general slicked back, but in the flashback she has bangs) and facial features (many pointed out the nose). This make sense because in theory Eve was meant to be like a substitute for Lilith, and probably the paradise wanted another woman attractive as Lilith (or in general that Adam liked) but more submissive. I think that even the card of Lilith (in the merchandise) it’s weird. I mean, it’s not like we never saw Lilith’s canonical appearance… so it feels weird, because she resembles more Eve than Lilith. (If you want go to check the official card).

The final scene and the final theory.

So, in the final scene Lilith made her first appearance as a character. In this scene, Lute, probably not a lot after the final battle goest to her and says: “Adam is dead, your deal is done and I’m in charge now. Your brat is threatening the very foundation of heaven and if you want to stay here you are going down there and stopping that bitch you understand me, Lilith?”.

Well, let’s begin (I’m gonna make you wish that I stayed… wait no):

So, as we know Lilith has been missing from hell since seven years. Honestly, after analyzing their appearances, the differences and the similarities, I feel that the woman that we saw in ‘More than anything’ and we are seeing in this scene is not Lilith, but Eve.

We know that Eve, some time after her creation ate the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, all under Lucifer’s temptation (who temped her with Lilith’s help) proposed the same to Adam, and for this they lost their innocence and Evil made it’s way in the Earth. We know how ended up for Adam, but none mentioned Eve (beside Charlie in the first scene). What if for being the first one that bite the fruit of knowledge she was banished from Heaven (or Eden) even after death?

Let’s think about it, that someone made Eve give into temptation, and after her death they made a deal with her. Then Eve replaced Lilith, took away Charlie by Lucifer and split up with him (for destroy the most powerful family of hell). And under the name of Lilith she made a deal with Lucifer, Sera and Adam for start the extermination. Responding to the fears of Sera (or the paradise in general?) about the increasing power of the sinners, and gaining the grace again (remembering that in fact, Lilith never ate the fruit and remained immortal). She earned under the name of Lilith the right to stay in the Eden. I have a theory that Sera or in general all the thing was manipulated by Roo (the incarnation of Evil, but still I don’t have any clue). In fact, Eve did all this for gain again the lost status, and probably for revenge against Lilith and Lucifer.

Because in fact, beside all the affection and family thing, why Lilith would have decided to damage the sinners that made her powers blossom? That wouldn’t make sense!

(P.s. I think that the fact that Alastor went missing seven years it’s related to this, but I don’t think that he made a deal with ‘Lilith’, but with Zestial, at least considering the details of the ‘deal scene’ with Charlie. Still I don’t know how.)

This is what I think happened, but, unfortunately I don’t know where the real Lilith,Igor actually be.

That’s all dears, thanks for reading!

What do you think about this theory?