#it's been fucking exhausting for ultimately no reason!!!

[sodaliteskull]

I don't know if it's because Mercury is in the gatorade, or because Uranus is squaring up with some other celestial bodies, but I have had

A WEEK

that has left be quite drained, so I'm going to be playing catch-up with my feed today!

[fizzstix]

grrrr white knuckle grip head in hands . im learning to be patient and im learning to be considerate and im learning to approach community after a long ass period of avoidance and feeling screwed over by everyone and im trying to be forgiving of myself and others and recover and get on my own two feet and it is Going to be hard but i have to try for the sake of myself and those closest to me and for the sake of living a life that reflects my own values and boundaries as a human being. deep exhale .

[avocado-writing]

being the worst wolverine’s wife and one day you get zapped by the TVA for whatever reason, and it looks like you completely disappeared, this is what leads logan to become depressed, start drinking and ultimately ignore the x men when they die etc etc

he goes with wade purely bc he would if you were alive- he couldn’t give less of a shit about wade’s universe but he can feel you over his shoulder like an angel telling him he needs to do this (i imagine it’s like the jean hallucinations he had in the wolverine movie)

what if you’re in the void and he finds you with the rest of the group, like being unable to believe you’re really here?

hehe i love angst and ily avo <3

I already did a “Logan meets you in the void” fic here so I didn’t wanna make this too long or I’d just end up hitting the same beats!

1.4k. rated m for excessive use of the word “fuck”

The day you disappeared you took his fucking soul with him. 

You had been out shopping. Nothing weird about that, he wasn’t some overbearing husband who demanded to know your location every single hour. But then afternoon had turned into evening had turned into night and nobody had heard from you. The unfamiliar sensation of panic had risen, queasy, from his stomach into his chest. They sent out a search party and looked for days. Not a trace of you to be found. Logan couldn’t smell you. Fuck, he’d never not been able to smell you before.

He would hunt for you every day, hoping to find you alive but trying to level with the idea of you being cold and dead because at least then he’d have closure; he’d stay awake for hours on end until he collapsed from exhaustion… then he’d wake up and repeat the whole horrible affair. Nothing. After weeks of searching, Charles had laid a hand on his arm. Logan can still remember the look of pity on his face, like a bomb to the gut. 

“I’m so sorry, Logan.”

They had to assume you were abducted and killed. Your body never turned up. And Logan just had to… keep going. How was he meant to keep going? You were his entire fucking life and then you were just…

Gone. 

To say he was left empty was the biggest understatement of his fucking life. He was a shell of the man he once was. He never laughed any more, never smiled, always trying to plug the hole your absence left in him with whatever alcohol he could get his hands on. Drink himself to a place where he could forget you.

It never really worked. At least it made him numb to the pain though. 

When he staggers home one evening, eyes bleary and head spinning, and finds the whole mansion torched? Everyone left that he loved fucking dead? Well, it takes the last vestiges of his existence and crushes them into dust. 

Oh, Logan, he hears in the back of his mind. Your voice. It breaks him. He falls to his knees, hands buried in the burning timbers, and wails. 

He survives. He does not live. Thinking about everyone he’s lost, with you haunting the corners of his consciousness, always reaching out to comfort him - but when he goes to nuzzle into the warmth of your palm he is overcome with rage and bitterness to find it’s just his own imagination playing tricks on him. 

Then a fucking idiot in red dragged him away from the shambles which was his life and forced him to be functional again, if only barely. He’s angry, so angry all of the goddamn time, even when in the back of his mind he can hear you speaking sweet, calming words to him. 

And then he hears your voice for real. 

Sees you standing across the base this pathetic resistance has made. You look older, sure, he does too - but there’s no mistaking the fire in those eyes. You’re even wearing the same fucking shirt you went missing in, he remembers it, it has a picture of your favourite band. 

His heart stops dead in his chest as you whisper his name. 

“Logan?”

“Oh shit!” says Wade, and Logan has never wanted to kill him more, “Oh shit! Is this your refrigeratored wife, coming back to throw in a third act character arc?”

Logan finishes the bourbon bottle and throws the empty at Wade’s head, where it shatters and knocks him flat. You wince at the violence and he feels like pure shit. 

“I’m fine,” Wade calls from the ground, sticking a thumbs-up into the air. 

“Logan, I…” you clearly want to say something, but you have not been met with the Logan you knew. That Logan would have spent no time running to pick you up and hold you in his arms. This one half-snarls at the man he bloodied on the floor. 

There is an agonising silence, both of you wanting to speak but not being sure how. You take a hesitant step forward. 

“I never thought I’d…”

“How do I know it’s you?”

You recoil like he’s stabbed you with his claws, confusion and hurt flooding your face. Goddamn. He is the worst man alive. He’s not sure if he’s saying it because he just wants to lash out at the nearest person, or…

… or if, because he gets his hopes up, it might just kill him to have them crash down again. 

“What?”

“All these fuckin’ timelines. How do I know? How can I be sure that you’re you?”

The sadness in your face melts away into anger. When you step forward this time, you’re on the warpath. He sees the others in the room cringe, trapped now in this caustic reunion. 

“How can you be sure it’s me? Fuck, Logan, I knew it was you, didn’t I? What do you want? You want me to show you the shitty tattoo I got after we first started dating and we were both drunk?” You lift your sleeve to reveal a little design on your shoulder. “Want me to tell you how an eighteen-year-old Marie was my bridesmaid and she cried because she didn’t think anyone would ever be that kind to her after living as a mutant again? Want me to fucking remind you that in my vows I said I would be by your side, for fucking ever, no matter what - and how when that TVA agent zapped me when I was out for the day and I ended up here, it was only the thought of fulfilling those vows which kept me going? How about all that, or do I fucking need to humiliate myself more?” At this, you gesture to the others who have lined up at the side of the room, trying to look scarce but utterly failing. 

Your shoulders are heaving with emotions, tears hot and heavy in your eyes but not yet spilling over. Logan grits his jaw. Yeah. It’s you. 

“I…” he starts, but trails off when he realises there’s nothing he can say. You shake your head, numb. 

“Fuck you, Logan Howlett,” you spit, words you’ve never ever thrown his way before, and run out of the room. 

“Wow. Aced that one, peanut,” says Wade, and Logan rips off one of his legs. 

He finds you several hours later at a campfire outside the rundown building which makes up headquarters. LeBeau has clearly been kind enough to part with some of his liquor, because you’re gulping down whiskey like it’s air. You stare at him, embers dancing in bitter eyes. 

“What do you want?” you snap. He grunts as he sits down opposite you, either from age or exertion. Stares into the flames. 

“I never stopped looking,” he manages. 

You blink. 

“What?”

“I never…” he shifts uncomfortably. It’s been a long time since he bared this much of his soul. “I never stopped. Even when the others told me to give up, that I would only make it worse for myself, I’d still search. Couldn’t face the idea you weren’t there any more.”

It’s true. If he was twelve bottles deep he’d be looking, if he was hungover as a dog he’d be looking. When the rest of the X-Men were still there and even after they weren’t. If he wasn’t sitting at a bar he was on the streets, ever a bloodhound trying to catch your scent again. 

For the first time you soften. 

“Oh.”

“So… when I asked if it was you… ah, fuck. I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole. Just couldn’t live with it if it wasn't true. Wasn’t real.”

When you stand he expects a slap. He deserves it. What he doesn’t count on is you sitting down - not on the log next to him, but in his lap. He hasn’t felt you do that for so long, and it’s so good. Your warmth on his thigh. You grab one of his hands, still larger than yours, and press it to your chest so he can feel your beating heart. 

“I’m real, Logan. I’m right here, baby,” you whisper, eyes dewy. Fuck. His are as well; he can’t help it. He’s overwhelmed by you, your feel, your gaze, your smell. He’d forgotten how much he loved it. 

Logan noses upwards against you, searching for your lips, and you let him find them. When you stroke his hair he can feel the wedding ring on your left hand. The kiss is desperate, longing, and the best one he’s ever had. 

“Right here,” you repeat, forehead against his. He grips you so tightly that it’s possible he’ll never let go again. 

[athforskz]

I’ll Take Care of You - Han Jisung

Masterlist

Pairing: Han x reader (afab)

wc: ~2.1k

Type: fluff, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Exhaustion, stress, mention of collapse, cunninglingus, little bit of somnophilia (if you squint), aftercare.

a/n: Always remember to take a break when you need it!

Enjoy lovelies!

It had been such a tiring week. You were stretched thin mentally and physically, juggling constantly between school and work. Needless to say that your personal life has taken a nose dive. You barely had time to hang out with friends, visit with family, or see your boyfriend, Jisung. That one bothered you the most. No matter how many times you told him you felt bad for not spending time with him or turning down plans, he always said he understood. But you could tell it bothered him. The way he’d give you a small smile would tug at your heartstrings because you saw the slight disappointment and sadness behind his eyes. There had to be some way to make it up to him, but you didn’t have the brain capacity to worry about that now.

At the moment, you were stumbling your way off the train and walking back home from your job. You worked the second shift so it was currently about mid-evening. Your boss sent you home early on the account of your less than desirable performance. It wasn’t your fault you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, nor the past few nights for that matter. You had pulled a couple all-nighters to finish projects or study for your degree. Okay, maybe it had been your fault for choosing to go back to school, but you just wanted to do your best.

You finally reached the front door to your apartment, fumbling and ultimately dropping your keys multiple times, mumbling out an explicative “…fuck.” Jisung was inside lowly listening to music when he heard the lock click. He was confused as you were the only other person with a key besides him, but you weren’t scheduled to be home for at least another six hours. Right?

Jisung’s face lit up as he saw you kick open the door and drop the bag from your shoulder onto the ground. You entered with a deep sigh.

“Jagiya! You’re home early?” He sprung from the couch to make his way over to greet you. All you could do was give a weak smile, leaning your head onto his chest when he pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek.

“Something happen with work?” He asked you.

“Mhm kinda,” you responded shortly to avoid details. You didn’t want him to worry after all. Jisung placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled away slightly to look at you. He could see that the bags under your eyes had darkened and your appearance was overall a little disheveled. Your body shivered for no apparent reason as he took in your mein. He knew you only shivered like that when you were exhausted; a sign that you were dangerously close to collapsing.

“Honey, when is the last time you slept or ate something?” His eyebrows knitted in worry.

“I slept for a few minutes after I studied. As for food, can’t remember.” You answered truthfully. Maybe it was yesterday morning? His eyes had widened. A few minutes of sleep?! Don’t know the last time you had food?? His brain was already in overdrive as he led you to the couch to sit you down, then retreated to the kitchen. Jisung just needed to get you something quick for now, then he’d order you a full meal later.

Jisung returned from the kitchen not even a full minute later to find you half asleep on the sofa. He sat beside you opening up the breakfast bar he grabbed.

“Can you sit up for me please, honey? I just need you to eat this then I’ll help you get to bed, yeah?” He gently rubbed your thigh to wake you up. You groaned in response. “I know, but you gotta do this. C’mon sit up with me.” Jisung pulled your body towards his, your head slumping on his shoulder. He held the snack up to your lips and you took a bite before closing your eyes again and chewing. When you swallowed you opened your mouth again, effectively letting your boyfriend feed you. He’d occasionally kiss the crown of your head as you chewed, whispering a “Good job. You’re doing so well for me, jagi,” as encouragement.

Once you finished the light snack, Jisung lifted you from the couch and took you to the shared bathroom. He sat you down on the counter making sure you were pushed up far enough so if you swayed too far one way you wouldn’t fall off. Jisung’s main goal at the moment was to get you as relaxed as possible before putting you to bed. He knew you well enough to know that if he didn’t relax you, you’d only sleep a few minutes again, then force yourself to get up and study. If he was going to do this he had to do it right. Since being with you, he knew you loved doing a specific routine before going to bed to help you unwind. Sometimes he’d even do it with you just so you both had a little bit of time together.

Jisung opened the drawer pulling out a few items for your skincare regime. He lined up the products in order before turning to you and placing a soft fluffy headband over your head to keep your hair out of your face. He pulled out a matching one that you had bought for him a few months ago and put it on himself. You let out a tired giggle as he poked his own cheeks and bobbed his head around, the bow on his headband making him look like a bunny.

You automatically closed your eyes once he brought a makeup wipe close to your face. Gently wiping away most of it. He tossed the wipe in the trash before getting a warm washcloth and wetting your face with it, then did the same to his own. Jisung moved over to stand comfortably between your legs, giving a chaste kiss to your lips before applying your facial cleanser. He hummed a low tune as he massaged your skin.

“Babe, you know I can do this myself.” You quipped. All he did was place his pointer finger on your lips with a quiet “shh.” You decided not to say anything else, figuring he wouldn’t take no for an answer anyways. Besides, you were enjoying all the attention.

After each step he’d do for you he would do the same for himself too, right down to patting in your moisturizer just the way you always do it. You had no idea Jisung paid that close attention to your nighttime routine; it was comforting in a way.

“All done, my pretty.” He placed a hand under your chin bringing you closer until your lips connected. The kiss was soft, nothing too brash or overly needy, it was full of love and warmth. You pulled away first as you felt the need to yawn overcome your senses.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” You weakly smiled. He chuckled while wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you off of the counter and to the bedroom.

“…m’ tired, Sungie.” You complained while laying your head on his shoulder.

“I know, y/n, baby. I promise we’ll sleep in just a few. Need to get you out of these clothes first.”

Jisung sat you down on the bed as you slumped over. “C’mon, arms up.” He directed, and you did what he asked. He took your top off and unclipped the annoying bra that dug into your shoulders. Your breasts fell free and you breathed a sigh of relief. Next, he commanded you to lift your hips so he could easily slide off your pants. Now you were left in nothing but your underwear. A cool breeze from the open window hit your back. You shivered at the air, “too cold.” You whined. Your boyfriend was already on it as he grabbed one of his oversized hoodies. He helped you put it on before laying you back in the middle of the bed, making sure you were extra comfy and kissing your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Right when you thought Jisung was going to snuggle up beside you, you felt his warm breath tickle your thighs and his hands on the hem of your panties.

“Sungie? What are-“

He hushed you before you could finish the question. He simply kissed your legs as he pulled the pesky cloth completely off. Jisung knew if he wanted you totally relaxed there was just one more step he needed to do.

He needed to make you cum.

And he’d gladly do it with his mouth.

It was no secret that Jisung was a munch, he was proud of it actually. Who wouldn’t be if someone constantly had their cake and got to eat it too? You were his cake and he’d find any excuse to eat you.

Jisung gazed at your already glistening heat taking in the sight and absolutely intoxicating scent of you. He ran a finger up and down your slit to gather the slick before bringing it to his mouth and licking it off. He moaned at your unique taste that he could never get tired of. Your sleepy face flushed in a deep blush as you watched your boyfriend’s actions.

“Just lay back and relax for me, jagi. I’ll take care of you.” His sultry voice graced your ears.

Almost simultaneously when your head hit the pillow his plush lips connected with your lower ones. Your back arched when his tongue pressed between your slit and licked up to tease at your clit. Jisung pulled away slightly while sucking before diving back into your core. A symphony of moans and whimpers escaped your throat and mixed with the obscene noises of him slurping, licking, and sucking your pussy.

Your body was so tired but still you reached down to grab your boyfriend’s hair with both hands, tugging slightly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you spread open for him. Free to continue his loving assault on your clit. So much of your sweetness was leaking out of your slit and mixing with his saliva to drip down onto the sheets, making an embarrassingly large wet spot just beneath your butt. Your whining became higher pitched as you neared your impending orgasm.

“Ah- Ji, so s’ close!!” You managed to warn him. The imaginary band in your lower belly nearly snapping. Jisung could tell you were close even without the warning by the way you pushed your pelvis closer and rolled your hips on his mouth. He pulled your hands from his hair and interlaced your fingers with his, your grip becoming tight as you held hands.

He then proceeded to dip his tongue into your entrance pumping it in and out of the clenching hole. That was enough to send you toppling over the edge. A silent scream came as your body shook violently once your orgasm overtook you and you came all over your boyfriend’s mouth.

Jisung slowly licked you clean, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tastebuds. He kissed his way back up to your clit and gave it one final suck making your body jolt and a whimper leave your lips. When he finally looked up to your face he could see you had fallen asleep.

The intense orgasm must have knocked her out. He thought.

He had a sly look on his face, feeling proud of himself as he wiped the remainder of your slick off of his chin. Jisung moved up from his spot between your legs to lay behind you. He pulled you close and kissed your hair.

“Sleep well and sweet dreams, baby.” He whispered to you as he listened to your soft snores before drifting off to sleep himself.

Jisung’s plan worked perfectly. You had slept all throughout the night until the next morning. No interruptions. However, you did wake up in a slight panic.

“Holy shit! What time is it?!” You yelled as your eyes shot open. You tried to fumble your way out of bed but your boyfriend stopped you. Quickly pulling you back down by your hips and cradling your body.

“Jagiya, calm down. It’s Saturday, you have nowhere to be!” He laughed as you sighed in relief. “Our plan for today is to nap as much as possible and eat in between. I already ordered from your favorite breakfast spot. It should be here soon. How does that sound?” He punctuated with a kiss. Something so simple sounded so amazing.

“That sounds like the perfect day. Thank you, Sungie.”

And that’s just what you two did. If you weren’t sleeping, Jisung had food ready and waiting for you. He had done everything and more for you the rest of the day, much to your dismay. But you couldn’t lie, the Jisung princess treatment was definitely nice.

Likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

[randomshyperson]

I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03

Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.

Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics,  brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough,  implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k

A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.

Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.

But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.

The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on. 

And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.

But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.

Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.

"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym. 

The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.

"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed. 

Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."

You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.

"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."

She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.

"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."

Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.

" Won't you take your shoes off?"

She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.

"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.

"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.

After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."

"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward. 

Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease. 

It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.

She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.

"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.

"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.

"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"

But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.

The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully. 

"Something wrong, darling?"

You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."

But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.

She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.

It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.

She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff." 

A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.

"You're not so cocky when you're scared."

In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.

With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"

"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.

"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold. 

But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"

Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."

She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.

"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.

It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.

Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."

She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.

"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."

To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.

"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties. 

It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.

"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."

"Wanda..."

"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.

With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.

You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.

"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core. 

Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?

"W-wanda-"

The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.

"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."

Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.

Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.

And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.

"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.

Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.

"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.

You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"

You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."

Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."

She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."

"Th-"

The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head. 

"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."

The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound. 

The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck. 

"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."

She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.

You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.

"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"

You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"

Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.

Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams. 

But reality is superior to any of those.

You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.

The door is magically closed behind the two of you.

You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.

Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.

Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.

"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"

"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.

She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.

"Tell me what you want." 

You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."

Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"

"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.

"Language." She warns, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.

"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation. 

It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.

"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.

With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."

"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.

Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.

You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.

It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.

"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.

You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"

She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."

Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.

"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.

"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."

She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either. 

"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out. 

"Oh, darling, we have barely started."

[thecapricunt1616]

Vervain - c.b. one-shot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).

♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.

♡ W/C: 4.6K+

♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024

♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream. 

Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy. 

Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.

He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple. 

After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later. 

He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed. 

“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face. 

“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you. 

“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back. 

This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one. 

Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that. 

“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck 

“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle 

“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs 

“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head. 

Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.

“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily. 

“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly. 

“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap

“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you. 

“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile. 

“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby. 

“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips 

“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily. 

Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you. 

You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in 

“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat. 

“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile. 

“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers. 

“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods 

“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized. 

“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly. 

“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely 

“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently 

“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles 

“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained 

“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey. 

“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you” 

He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand. 

She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again. 

After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate. 

Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again. 

“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder. 

“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown 

“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot 

“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled 

“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious 

“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it. 

“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant. 

“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep. 

It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat. 

“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“

“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs 

“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him 

“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.  

“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly 

“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows 

“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile. 

“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully. 

“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play. 

“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching. 

“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement. 

“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could. 

He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers. 

“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving. 

“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9. 

“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing. 

“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off. 

“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off. 

“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him. 

“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight. 

“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh. 

“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick. 

“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips 

“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance. 

The feeling was…well. 

It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently 

“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you. 

“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact. 

“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly 

“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over. 

“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. 

You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake. 

“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape. 

“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles. 

“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head

“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more. 

He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”

“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass 

“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp. 

“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth 

“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder 

“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks. 

You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’  you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier. 

“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for. 

“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his. 

“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully. 

“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck. 

“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing.  It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.

[xomakara]

Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)

SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho.  You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)

LENGTH | 15,012 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!

Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)

Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!

Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead. 

You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.

You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.

It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.

As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.

“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.

No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.

“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”

Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.

You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.

As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.

Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.

You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried. 

The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”

“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.

“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.

Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”

The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.

“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”

“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.

The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.

The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.

“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”

“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”

“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”

“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.

“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.

“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.

As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.

You had never seen anything like it.

You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle. 

You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.

“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.

“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.

“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”

“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.

“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.

“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.

“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.

“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.

After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen. 

When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.

Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.

“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”

Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”

The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.

“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.

“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”

You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.

The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.

“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”

Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.

Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.

“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”

Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.

Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.

On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.

You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.

The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground. 

You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.

This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.

With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.

It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.

It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.

What adorable little devils.

Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.

“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.

“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”

“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”

You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”

Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.

“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”  

A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.

As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.

His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.

“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”

“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.

Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”

You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.

You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.

Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.

“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.

“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”

As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.

“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.

“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“Possibly,” Yunho replied.

“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.

“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.

Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.

“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.

“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”

“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”

With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.

“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“

“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”

His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.

“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”

“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”

“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”

Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”

“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.” 

“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”

“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”

“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”

“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”

“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”

He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.

“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”

“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.

Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?

“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.

“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”

“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”

“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”

“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”

Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.

“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”

Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.

He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.

Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.

Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.

The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.

The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.

To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.

Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.

Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.

Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.

“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?

A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.

For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?

He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?

Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.

And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.

Even if it meant going against Yunho.

“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.

The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?

“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.

“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”

“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.

You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.

“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.

Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.

“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.

With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.

Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.

“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”

“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.

“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”

Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.

“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.

While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.

“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”

“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.

“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”

“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.

“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.

“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”

Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.

“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”

You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.

“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.

His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.

“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.

It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers. 

You buried your hot face in your hands.

Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.

To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.

“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.

“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.

“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”

“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”

“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.

“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.

“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”

Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”

“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.

For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.

That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.

Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”

“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”

Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”

“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”

You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.

“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.

You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach. 

This sweet, new thing.

“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”

Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”

You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.

And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.

The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.

Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.

With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.

He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.

“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.

They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.

“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.

“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”

He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”

The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.

“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”

He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.

“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”

He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,

“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.

She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.

“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”

Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”

And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.

“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.

You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.

“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.

“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.

The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.

“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”

The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.

It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.

“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”

“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”

“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”

He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”

He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.

“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”

After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.

You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”

It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.

“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”

You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.

“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.

“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.

“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.

Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.

“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”

Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.

With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.

“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”

The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.

“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.

His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”

“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.

“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.

“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”

A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.

When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.

Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.

His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.

“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”

With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.

Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”

With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.

It was very real.

One month passed by relatively fast.

You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.

“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.

“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.

“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.

Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”

“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.

“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”

You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.

“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”

“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.

“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”

“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”

“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.

Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”

With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”

“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”

“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”

“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips. 

“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”

“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.

“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.

“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“  

“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.

“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.

“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”

Your face showed concern. “How?”

“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”

“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.

“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”

He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”

Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.

“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”

“Ghost?” you asked.

“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.

“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”

“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”

You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”

“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.  

“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”

“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”

“Jongho,” you said.

He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.

“What’s going on?” you asked.  

“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[lurkingshan]

I absolutely loved the first two episodes of Love in the Big City, and I thought all of the adaptation choices were brilliant, but the part that hit me most as I was watching and that my mind keeps circling back to relates to this question from @bengiyo:

In the novel, we see everything through Young's rather biting and cynical internal monologue, while in the drama we see other characters through a broader lens. With this different perspective, how does Mi Ae's outing of Go Yeong and the fallout change compared to the novel?

I think for me, this shift that allowed us to see Mi Ae outside of Yeong's perspective enhanced my empathy for her and for the choices she made. Because it all comes back to this quote, originally from the novel and used verbatim in the show:

"Through me, she learned that being a gay man sucks, and through her, I learned that being a woman equally sucks."

Yeong and Mi Ae connected with each other because they were both living outside the accepted norms and were isolated and lonely as a result. The forms of oppression they experienced were not the same, but it was a point of connection and the foundation of their deep bond. They fell in love with each other because of their shared choice to be themselves loudly, and fuck the social consequences. They were each other's most important person, regardless of who they were dating. And so when Mi Ae, shaken up after her abortion and exhausted by trying to fight the social tide, made the choice to stop being true to herself and conform, of course Yeong felt abandoned. And then when she outed him to protect her conformity, betrayed.

In the novel, we learn about Mi Ae (Jaehee) outing Yeong (Young) from him, and it's presented to us as a callous betrayal, because that's how it felt to him. But in the show, we get to see Mi Ae make that decision. We see how cornered she felt when her boyfriend confronted her about the lies she'd been telling, we see his genuine (justified) upset at learning she'd been living with a man he doesn't know, we see her panicking and reaching for something to smooth it over, and we can see that in the moment, it feels reasonable to her to tell her partner the truth. We can see that it wasn't malicious, and she did not intend to hurt Yeong.

But it still hurts, because in making that decision, she implicitly acknowledged that Yeong is no longer her most important person. Someone else, or at least the idea of what he represents, became her top priority, and she protected her romantic relationship rather than protecting Yeong. She still loved Yeong, but she wouldn't put him first any longer, and when she made that choice their relationship as they knew it was over. Mi Ae was ultimately captivated by the allure of social acceptance, and she chose a path of conformity that was not open to Yeong--she is, after all, a cishet woman and able to revert to societal expectations much more easily than Yeong ever could as a gay man who would struggle to pass even if he wanted to. Her choice was confirmation that, in fact, their situations do not equally suck, and she retreated to her privileged identity, leaving him behind.

And so we come to the scene that punched me in the heart more than any other in this first section: the two of them singing together at her wedding, taking one last glorious moment to be themselves again in front of people who would never understand them. In that moment I felt so sad for Yeong, that this relationship that meant so much to him was irrevocably changed, and for Mi Ae, that she abandoned these aspects of herself out of fear and committed herself to a man who looked stunned to see a glimpse of the real her. And more than anything, I felt sad about how isolating and alienating it feels to simply exist in the margins of what is socially acceptable, that conforming is always the easier choice for those who can hide, and that Yeong was once again left to struggle alone.

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize, Part 5

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

All the other chapters

TW: dubcon. Also remember Shanks isn’t a reliable narrator

Shanks POV

Shanks was a little sad your heat was finally abating after five days. Your demands for his touch and comfort were coming in increasingly longer intervals and you expressed a desire for food and drink. On one hand, he was glad it was ending. You looked worse for the wear, run down, and exhausted. Hongo had been right that the heat would be challenging for you physically. Heat had caused your appetite for food to be completely gone and in conjunction with the intense physical activity you’d lost weight off your already malnourished frame. You had dark circles under your eyes and had scratched at your healing neck wound until Shanks had Commanded you to stop touching it. You’d be able to recover after the heat was fully over but it was dragging out over the course of long hours.

On the other hand, he had enjoyed your heat - maybe a little too much. Through sheer force of will Shanks hadn’t descended into rut and was able to keep his immense power contained. He’d fucked you in every conceivable position that kept you under him and even had allowed you on top once. But the real reason he’d enjoyed it so much was because he’d Commanded you to love him. A Command he repeated quite a few times, most of the time if he actually stopped and thought about it. Shanks was addicted to the way you’d look up at him through your lashes, pulling him in for tender kisses with your tongue meeting his own. How you’d moan his name, not his designation when he made you come on his cock or tongue. How you’d smile at him when he came in you, urging him to cuddle with you afterward, to hold you closer for just a few minutes longer. You’d laugh when he told you sweet nothings into your ear, happily giggling as his stubble tickled your cheek. When he Commanded you to love him, your body language changed - you were carefree, sweeter, and more romantic. 

It was like a glimpse into a world he’d heard about but never experienced before. Shanks had fucked thousands of times before he met you, it wasn’t anything new for him. He’d even made love a few times when he found a stable someone to enjoy it with. But every new beginning came with a prescribed end. No matter how sweet the love or how rough the tumble, Shanks would be leaving in the morning, the Red Force would be sailing away, and his newest lover would remain where they were. He didn’t have the time to let himself get attached or to let anyone really enter his life beyond his crew since he was always leaving, the future uncertain. There was no question about the inevitable outcome, fucking only granted him a few hours of respite from the loneliness that threatened to consume him whole. 

Shanks had long felt like there was something in his heart that was missing or somehow walled off from everyone else. Like there was a piece of glass wedged in, separating his true emotions from those he held dear. He hadn’t always felt that way - as a child, his life was filled with love. He had Roger, Rayleigh, Buggy, tand he whole crew always with him to provide support and guidance. But Roger died, Rayleigh abandoned him, Buggy left, and the whole crew blew away like dust after Loguetown. Shanks had no one and nothing, only the memories of the world’s most hated pirate and the loss of his family. He’d eventually found Beckman while at the bottom of a bottle and had built himself a crew and a name for himself. But the feeling of aloneness, of never wholly belonging to anyone or anything had become a permanent scar on his heart. He’d tried to find a connection through Luffy but he ultimately had to abandon the kid all the same. 

But you - you were different. You weren’t able to leave him, not now or ever. He had kept his word, he hadn’t marked you this heat. It had been incredibly challenging, every fiber in him wanting to bite down on your soft flesh to warn off any Alpha who would dare look your way. Shanks had persevered, you could walk away at any point and he would have no physical claim over you.  Except you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t reintegrate back into society with so many people knowing your designation and your Beta cover thoroughly blown. You couldn’t go to the Marines, they’d turn you into the Celestial Dragons who would make a slave of you. You couldn’t join another pirate crew, no one was powerful enough to challenge Shanks for you and win. No, you were his and his alone. He could keep you and you’d always be with him, no matter what. 

He looked down at you as you slept tucked into his side facing him, your hair a mess after so many days without bathing. You looked like a fallen angel, innocent but ruined under his hand, his marks littering your skin like a series of tattoos. He’d been purring for you for the last few hours, keeping you relaxed and sleeping until one of the final rounds of heat. Hongo said that once the heat ended you would want to clean up but Shanks hoped you kept at least a little of the copious amounts of cum on your skin. There wasn’t an area on you that he hadn’t bitten or marked or rubbed his cum into or kissed; he’d consumed you whole. He trailed his fingers down your side, making you jerk in your sleep. Really, he should let you rest. But his cock had other ideas and well, Shanks was always one to listen. He thought by the end of five days of heat he’d be sated but every movement you made had his cock throbbing like it was the first time.

“Love, do you need me? You were moaning in your sleep,” Shanks said quietly in your ear while pushing your hair off your face. Your eyelids twitched but you didn’t open them. Shanks rolled you gently onto your back as you mewled a small protest.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ll care of you,” Shanks rumbled through his purr. It wasn’t exactly fair to keep purring while he attended to you but he knew you’d want what he was going to give you. Shanks parted your legs, your tired thighs falling to either side. He kissed a bite mark he’d left on your inner thigh, pleased it was still there after four days. Seeing the healing bite from Kid in the crease of your leg made him scowl at the other Alpha’s mark - he’d have to work on that one later. Settling himself on his stomach between your thighs, he set one calf over his shoulder followed by the other. Your glistening core was bared to him and still weeping with the cum he gushed into you mere hours before. Shanks gave you one long lick up your slit, making your thighs tighten around his ears. Your muscles were shaking from exhaustion but one more round wasn’t going to hurt you. 

“Alpha?” you said groggily, rolling your head on the pillow with your eyes still closed. You brought your hands down to run your fingers through his hair, as if in question that it was truly Shanks.

“Shh, just let it happen, I’ll help,” he assured you while remaining in his position. You whined but didn’t protest further as Shanks sucked gently on your clit. He knew it had gotten a lot of his attention but the swollen bud was calling to him. Shanks was gentle this time, lapping at you with care and ease as he wound your desire tighter. The taste of his cum mixed with your slick was like ambrosia for his taste buds - he needed to have more. Fucking his tongue into you, he tried to gather as much of the fluid as he could. You’d still produce slick after your heat fully ended but it was a touch sweeter during your heat. Your hole started to throb again, pulsing around his eager tongue.

“ Aah aah…Alpha - I -” you said, your voice straining under the onslaught of pleasure he was giving you.

“ Call me Shanks ,” he Commanded you, pulling his tongue out of your hole to speak before continuing to tongue your swollen clit.

“ Sh-Shanks - I -I’m g-gonna -” you stammered, your thighs clamped tight around his head. Ah, you really were coming out of heat. Previously you didn’t have control over yourself, coming when he made you either on his cock, fingers, or tongue. A few times he’d made you ask him or beg for it but he found it wasn’t as fulfilling for him. Sure, he liked making you whine and squirm but Shanks found he liked it even more when you came naturally, when the amount of pleasure he gave you was so overwhelming and intense that you had no choice but to come. 

Shanks pulled back to halt your progress toward your climax. Resting his chin on your pelvis, he smiled at you - and you growled back. He kissed your outer thigh but let you feel his canine teeth press against your soft flesh in warning to remember your place around him.

“Al- Shanks, please?” you asked, now deferent to him. He smiled at your submission, it was always a fine treat to enjoy. You tried to use his designation but were unable to under his Command. Shanks idly wondered how long the Command would last - would it extend beyond your heat? He hoped it did. 

“Of course, all you need to do is ask,” Shanks replied before giving the silky skin of your lower stomach a kiss. He wondered if you had gotten pregnant from this cycle, though he doubted it. Hongo said the first few heats weren’t generally productive and you weren’t in optimal health to begin with. The idea of your stomach swelling with his child had him kissing your stomach again. He hunkered back down between your legs, applying pressure to your clit in the way he knew you liked after so many times together. You moaned in pleasure, Shanks sliding two of his fingers into your hole to find that spot that made you gush. 

“N-not - ah I can’t - it’s too much hah hah -” you protested, now using your hands to try and push him away. He clicked his tongue at you - you were not to tell him what to do, he was the Alpha and you the Omega. Ignoring your cries, he curled his fingers and continued to pump them in your aching pussy, rubbing against the slightly rougher spot on your walls. He wished he had his other hand to push down on your stomach to intensify the sensation but you were shaking even without it. Sucking a little harder on your clit, he felt the moment of your release as your cunt tried pulling his fingers in even further. Slick gushed from you and he slurped up as much as he could while continuing to move his tongue against your clit. He was grinding against the bed while watching you fall under the spell of his bliss, he’d satisfy himself in a little bit. He showed you no mercy as you yelled out his name like a war cry. Finally, your pleasure wound down, your chest heaving and your eyes tightly shut.

“There it is, that’s my good Omega, such a good girl for me,” Shanks cooed at you as he removed his fingers from your body and pushed them into your mouth. You sucked them obediently, as he’d trained you to do during heat, only stopping when he took them out. Crawling back up to you, Shanks pulled you towards him again, letting you curl up into his body heat. Pulling the blankets back over the both of you, Shanks resumed purring. After a few minutes, he felt your body go limp as your breathing evened out. Yes, he’d be sad to see your heat go. 

There was always next time to look forward to.

Your POV

You felt like you were waking from a long, vivid dream as you regained your sense of self after your heat. It felt like memories were almost in your grasp, disappearing like vapor when you tried to hold onto them too hard. You could recollect only bits and pieces - you remembered kissing Shanks deeply, your arms wound around his neck as he fucked you slowly. You remembered crying out for him to help you, your body burning with need only to be reassured by his touch immediately branding your skin. You remembered him pulling orgasm after orgasm from you easily and how he had you crumbling under his slightest touch. You remembered his calloused hand running gently down your back to rest on your hip as he fucked you from behind. You thought you remembered telling him that you loved him, though that memory was hazier than the rest. 

What you did know was that Shanks had kept his word and hadn’t marked you during the heat. You truly hadn’t expected him to keep his promise, fully expecting that you would come to with a Claiming Bite on the non-infected side of your neck. Your neck still hurt from Kid’s bite with the incision now an angry red and covered in scratch marks. Hongo would want to see it, you thought, but you wanted to shower off the gunk covering your skin. Looking yourself over, you grimaced as you saw the marks from Shanks’s attention during your heat. He had gone to get you food and water after saying you needed to keep resting in the bed. And truthfully, you agreed with him.

You were tired, a bone aching kind of tired you hadn’t felt since you were on the run from Marine patrols, sleeping only when you’d found somewhere safe to hide. You couldn’t leave the bed if you wanted to, opting instead to let Shanks take care of you. Shanks? You thought to yourself. When had he become Shanks and not the Emperor to you? Probably after a few dozen rounds of sex, you decided. He didn’t seem to mind being called by his first name, that’s what the crew did. He still called you “Love” or “Omega,” but you weren’t going to correct him. 

Looking out the window in the cabin, you saw it was morning as soft light fell across your face. Shanks told you that you’d been in heat for five days, quite a considerable length for a first-timer. Curling back up in your now destroyed but perfectly smelling nest, you thought about asking him to visit the island after your next nap.

About a day later, you were finally able to get out of Shanks’s bed. Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stretched your arms upwards and felt a lingering ache in your back and limbs. You were sticky with residual fluids, sweat, and slick and wanted to shower. Shanks watched you stand up, following you with his eyes as you headed toward the bathroom. You heard the bed creak and felt his body heat behind you as you reached to turn on the shower in his en suite. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder with the action making you jump with the unexpected affection. You weren’t sure how to act around Shanks now that your heat was over - not that you ever did to begin with. Obviously, you’d been intimate with him many times but that wasn’t you. You hesitated now, your returned senses leaving you unable to act as freely as you did under the influence of heat.

“Relax, it’s ok. I’m gonna come in with you,” Shanks said into your skin, peppering your shoulder with small kisses. You nodded as you remained facing the shower, you had been looking forward to alone time but weren’t all that surprised to find him joining. Shanks considered you for a moment then gathered towels and placed them on the counter for when you’d need them.

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still safe, you’re still here with me,” Shanks said, leaning against the sink. You looked at him, knowing he’d want to hear and see your understanding.

“Thank you, Shanks,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for keeping me safe d-during heat and um, helping me, and ah, not g-giving me the bite,” you said, dropping your eyes in the middle of your sentence. He wasn’t your mate, you couldn’t maintain eye contact with someone so much stronger than you on the designation scale. Shanks gave you a small smile instead of the broad flashy one he usually did. 

“You’re welcome, Love. Now, let’s get in before the hot water runs out,” he said while ushering you into the shower. He followed immediately behind you, allowing you the majority of the hot water while he stood behind you, pressing against your backside in the small space. He grabbed a clean washcloth and lathered it up.

“Arms up,” he said, holding the wet cloth. You blinked - he was going to wash you again? You turned to face him but your eyes only made it up to his muscled chest.

“I c-can do it, I’m not that tired,” you sputtered in a failed attempt to exert some autonomy. Shanks had seen and touched every inch of you but that was during your heat. Now you were lucid and a little less afraid - he didn’t need to take care of you as much as he had before.

You thought about protesting but instead raised your arms. It wasn’t that big of a deal and you wanted to save your battles for when they mattered.  He began rubbing you down quickly with the mild soap. You didn’t think he did as thorough of a job as when you were in the bath but you could always clean yourself again later. As you ran your fingertips over your hair, you thought about his promise to let you cut your hair short. Detangling the rat’s nest would be a much faster process if you cut off about 8 inches. 

“Um, Sh-shanks? Were you - um, can I still get the um, haircut? That you mentioned?” you asked with a trembling voice while watching him run the washcloth over your stomach. He hummed but didn’t answer directly, continuing to soap you down. He was efficient, not lingering on your breasts or cunt like you expected. 

“We can check for a hairdresser but I don’t think there’s one on this island. And trust me, you don’t want Beckman cutting your hair. You’ll end up with something like Hongo’s. You can get one at the next island,” he said with a hint of mirth. 

“Alright, that - that makes sense,” you said and looked away while doubt crept in at his flippant answer. In your mind, you couldn’t think of any island that didn’t have at least one barber. You watched the suds fall down the drain as he finished washing your torso. He crouched down to wash your legs in the single person shower, which was made even more challenging by his broad shoulders. You were crowded into the back corner, the water still pounding your skin as Shanks ran his fingers up your calf. You could see his cock bobbing even as he crouched down,  already erect and leaking at the tip. Of course, you’d seen it before but not in such vivid detail that you could remember. 

“Put your foot up on my thigh, I want to check your injury,” he said calmly while still rubbing down your lower limbs. Leaning your back against the shower stall, you lifted your foot as he asked. Shanks was a tall man, so you had to hike your leg rather high to accomplish what he’d asked you. It was a little lewd exposing yourself to him so plainly, but you were glad he was taking a look at your cut. You had worried it would get too much friction during your heat and get infected like the one on your neck. Shanks finished scrubbing you and put the washcloth over his shoulder, using his hand to move your thigh to where he could see your wound. He prodded at it lightly, looking it over closely. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and stood back up. You jumped from the contact but he was already standing up by the time you processed what happened.

“Your turn,” he said with a smile before handing you the washcloth off his shoulder. 

Shanks POV

Shanks watched patiently as you took the washcloth from him with shaky fingers and wide eyes. It was like he was handing you a loaded gun with how nervous you were. Your smaller fingers took the offered item as you turned to cover it in more soap. Shanks almost felt bad for making you feel so skittish but you needed to work through your fear of Alphas. Now that your heat was over, Shanks wanted to have to work to get you back to how you were, to feel you on his skin again. No matter how much coaxing it took, Shanks always got what he wanted.

You tentatively began washing his chest and gained some confidence when he began to purr softly for you. You were absorbed in the task and taking it seriously, using your lesser strength to scrub his skin. Shanks hadn’t tried to wash you very thoroughly with a part of him hopeful some of the scent and fluids would remain on your skin. If not, he could always replace them. Shanks was enjoying watching you take care of him, even if he had foisted it upon you. Now finished with his stomach and chest you passed the washcloth over his stump, washing it with care. He didn’t think you noticed but your tongue was peeking out of your mouth in an enticing way as you concentrated. You washed his back and legs, his full arm and hand, which he used to cup your face when you’d finished.

“Doing so well, thank you little Omega,” he said, kissing you on the forehead. You flushed adorably at the bit of praise and he couldn’t resist giving you a small smile. After all that he’d done with you, you still were embarrassed by praise and simple affection. He wondered if he was the first person to offer you any in your sad life before him. You certainly hadn’t had any with Kid, but maybe you’d been as lonely as he was when you were living incognito. You wouldn’t have been able to have intimate relationships or let anyone in too close for fear of your secret being discovered. Plus you were weak, unable to defend yourself, so it made sense you would have hidden yourself away from others. It had all worked out in a cosmic way, he was as perfect for you as you were for him. You were wringing out the washcloth from soap while Shanks mulled over this new thought. Oh no, you weren’t getting away that easy, he thought to himself .

“Wash all of me, Omega,” he demanded without a Command behind it. You were obedient enough that you’d do what he said without force even outside of your heat. Your face flamed again and you steadfastly avoided his eyes. He’d have to break you of that habit, he thought, he enjoyed seeing your expressive face when he talked to you. It might come in time, he supposed. After all, you hadn’t spent much time with him outside of the heat; you barely knew what he was like. He could tell you he wouldn’t hurt you and that he wanted the best for you, but you’d have to see it for yourself by his actions. So he allowed you to look at his feet while shuffling your own.

Shanks took hold of your hand that was closed into a tight fist and gently pried your fingers open. He grabbed the bar of soap from its holder and put it in your hand.

“Easy Love, nothing you haven’t done before,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head. You finally started moving, lathering up the rag and replacing the soap in its spot. There wasn’t much room in the small space but you brought yourself closer to him before raising your hand to his hard cock. You wrapped your slimmer fingers around his shaft with the rag in between, trying to quickly soap him off. Shanks covered your hand with his own larger one, keeping your hand wrapped around where he wanted it most. He pumped your hand up and down over his cock, letting the rag drop to the floor as the movements continued. It was heavenly to be stroked in your soft hand so unlike his own. You made timid movements like you weren’t sure exactly what to do. 

“A little harder, aah , there aah - good girl,” Shanks bit out as you increased the pressure on his cock. 

“Don’t stop,” he ordered as he removed his hand from atop yours. He cupped your chin in his hand and leaned down to kiss you as you continued stroking his cock. You allowed him to dominate the kiss, to do what he wanted to you without protest. It was pleasant but not the same as when you were in heat. During heat you reciprocated in delight, making it less of a kiss and more of a dance between lovers. Now you were accepting but not participating and Shanks didn’t like it.

“ Kiss me back,” Shanks Commanded you, wanting to relive what he’d had previously. You gave him a worried look but were unable to refuse as your body took over. He knew you’d eventually see that he loved you and that your fates had been written in the stars, he just had to lead you a little bit further. You hooked your free hand around his waist, bringing him even closer so there was no room between you. Your fist kept pumping as you began kissing him with passion, tongue thrusting against his own. Shanks moaned as you gently bit his lower lip before tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. 

“I’m close, Love,” Shanks said, pulling away for a moment to lean his forehead on your shoulder. 

“You want to be my good Omega, nh ? Then don’t make a mess,” Shanks bit out as he rode the edge of pleasure. He picked up his head and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing down gently. Understanding his silent cue, you got to your knees and put his cock head in your mouth while continuing to pump his aching cock.

“That’s hah that’s my girl - hah - a little more - ahh -” he mumbled as you sucked his tender tip then pushed forward so his shaft hit the back of your throat. He’d throat fucked you during heat but he refrained from putting his hand on your head out of consideration. Training that fear out of you meant being gentle when you weren’t in heat. Shanks could barely hold back as your tight, hot throat grasped him almost as well as your cunt.

“G’na come in - nngnh fuck fuck fuck swallow it all, that’s it, to the last drop,” Shanks stammered through his orgasm and you did your best listen, your throat bobbing as you swallowed as much as you could. He watched as the overflow from his massive load started dripping out the sides of your mouth. His finger swept across the edges of your lips when he cleaned up your face as you swallowed his cum.

“Open,” he said, his eyes half lidded and hazy with spent desire. He pushed his finger into your warm mouth, allowing you to finish cleaning him off. Removing his fingers from your mouth, he pulled you to standing and turned off the shower. 

“Let’s dry off and see if breakfast’s ready, yeah?” Shanks said while handing you a towel. Unfortunately, drying you off wasn’t something he could do efficiently before you got cold. You nodded as Shanks leaned down to kiss you on the mouth once more. You hesitated but ultimately kissed him back with a touch of affection. Yes, he missed the heat version of you who loved him back more easily. 

Maybe he’d ask Hongo if there was a way to speed up the intervals in between your heats. 

Taglist: @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle @whore-of-many-hot-men @one-piecelover @anemonyee @joana7654-blog @mfreedomstuff @littlelovebug98 @hannya-writes @babi-lamb @sanjisleggy @princessuta061108 @twismare @iamrgo @littlelovebug98 @anonymousmuffinbear

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Two

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

Chapter Two - Breakfast

Content Warning: None (Let me know if I missed any!)

“Coffee anyone?” You call out to the foyer as your feet hit the carpet. 

It was early and you had a lot to do today, but there was always time for coffee. Besides, you spent half the night tossing and turning before finally winding down into a few hours of sleep. You were exhausted - not just from the night’s meeting, but the silence of the Hotel was deafening. You usually slept to music, but the record player in your old room didn’t belong to you and so you couldn’t take it when you left. 

Angel sat before the old television, Husk standing at his side, his arms crossed before him. Angel lay sprawling across the sofa, dark circles under his eyes. With the type of jobs these two had, you were surprised to see them up so early. 

“… isn’t that right Tom?” You recognized Katie Killjoy’s voice echo from the television. 

666 News this early in the morning? You joined the cat and spider in the alcove. 

“That’s right Katie! Another pile of ashes was discovered in the alley of the Pride Ring this morning as the Shadow has claimed yet another victim! The remains have been identified as Chazwick Thurman, a known member of the Crimson Mafia...” 

“Too bad they weren’t your ashes, aye Tom…” 

You drowned out the voices of the broadcasters as images of an alleyway in the Entertainment district flash across the screen. The only thing left behind was a bone-shaped belt buckle and a pile of grey. 

“Crimson was invited to comment.” 

You stiffen.

The screen cut to a cameraman chasing Crimson into a car. “Get that fucking camera out of my fucking face!” He slams the car door and the screen cuts back to the reporters. 

Goddamn that almost gave you a heart attack…

“How do yous think they identify ‘em?” Angel motioned to the screen, now turned back to Chaz’s ash’s blowing away in the breeze. “All I see is a bunch o’ dirt.” 

“Something Gluttony whipped up I heard,” Husk grumbles. He looks just as exhausted as Angel. 

“What would Beelzebub want to do with a bunch o’ murders?” Angel argued. 

“Don’t look at me, those are just the rumors!” 

“I heard it was a new Voxtek technology,” you chime in. “They have some sort of electronic scanner that can detect soul signatures.” 

You were right, of course, but they didn’t know that. 

“But he was a Hellborn Native? Do they even have souls? And what was he doing in the Pride Ring anyway?” Angel argued. 

You shrugged, “Like Husk said… Only rumors.” 

“Seems a little shady if you ask me.” Husk rubs the scruff forming on his chin. “That’s the first Hell Native to have been slain by the Shadow. So far he’s only gone after Sinners. Why change now?” 

You weren’t interested in playing conspiracy theorist today. Too much to do. Instead you decided to shift the conversation, “Coffee?” 

Angel and Husk look to you. 

“It’s the only reason we got up,” Angel answered. “Heard ya’ had a busy morning and didn’t wanna miss ya’.” 

The sentiment made your face turn pink. Day two and already you felt some sort of connection forming with the two of them. 

You followed them into the kitchen, but froze on the threshold as the sound of soft jazz hit your ears and a jolt of static ran down your spine. There, standing in a frilly apron tied at the waist, serving spoon in hand, was the red demon Alastor. He didn’t look up as he scooped the remaining eggs into the white dish set on the table. 

“Good morning fellow Sinners!” The demon sung. Husk and Angel grumbled in response. Not morning people. So, the maniacal demon has a domestic side? What a weird change of pace after literally beating the shit out of someone yesterday and then turning around and pissing off an Overlord. 

“Morning, Mr. Alastor,” you mumbled, trying to match his cheerfulness but frankly, you hadn’t had coffee yet and didn’t enjoy talking to anyone before your first steaming cup. 

Finally his eyes landed on you, the soft jazz music coming to a small and almost imperceptible skip you would have missed had you not been listening for it. This man gives away so much in his audio alone. 

Half-lidded, his eyes dragged over you, from the Mary Jane heels - short as can be, you couldn’t handle anything over an inch - to the red puffy dress that hugged your sides and expanded into layers of black landing just above your knees. The dress was long sleeved, with black lace running across your back, hiding your tattoo perfectly. It came with a matching metal red clip for your hair. 

Normally you hated wearing dresses, hated looking girly, but etiquette called for it this morning. You’d be far more comfortable in a pair of trousers and button up collared shirt. 

You waited as the invisible radio clicked through a few stations before returning to a soft jazz. “Well, well, look what the spider and cat dragged in. And where is our fine hotel guest off to today?” He returned the pan to the stove before untying the apron at his waist. 

Okay, he was acting cordial. So maybe that meant whatever happened yesterday on the cobblestone streets wasn’t him? Or maybe he hadn’t realized it was you who did it? Either way, there was a question mark next to whatever power slapped the shit out of you yesterday - “proceed with caution,” the sticky note next to it read. 

“I have a breakfast date…” You start but Angel’s whistling interrupts you. 

“Ow! Oooow!” He called, “And who is the lucky Sinner bestowed with the honor of taking your fine ass out today?” 

Your cheeks couldn’t get any redder. “My old land lady?” You curled into yourself, feeling eyes on your skin, resisting the urge to rub the back of your neck. 

“Oh, you like ‘em mature, don’t ya’?” Angel purred. It made you laugh, breaking some of the tension. 

“Now, now Angel Dust, one musn’t speak such profanities to a young lady before she’s had her breakfast.” Alastor settled into his chair. Snapping his fingers for a newspaper, he disappeared behind the black and white text. The air around you grew a little colder with his closeness, like the heat was being absorbed by the red demon himself.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Angel shrugged, spooning piles of egg onto his plate. “Hair clip knows I’m good for it.” 

“Same thing as yesterday, Husk?” You ask sheepishly, making your way to the Breville in the corner. The coldness wrapped around your legs, as if it was following you across the kitchen.

“That would be great, kiddo,” he rubbed his temples, his chin resting on the table top. Hangover? 

You felt the bubbles in your chest die down as you got to work, filling the portafilter with beans and finding a white espresso cup in the cupboard. 

“Angel?” You called over your shoulder. You feigned a small kick at the air around your ankles, wishing for whatever invisible coldness to leave you alone. It didn’t. 

“A vanilla soy latte if ya’ could be so kind, sweet cheeks,” he asked, mouthful of food. You heard the door swing open as Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty’s voices filled the air. 

I thought the tiny maid normally cooked the meals? 

Rummaging through the cupboards you couldn’t find any syrups for his request - only a chai tea blend. You apologized but made a mental note to pick up some supplies today. 

Passing him his soy latte - complete with a spider on top - you got to work on everyone else’s orders before finally turning to Alastor. 

Your palms instantly started to sweat. What was it about this demon that made you so nervous? 

“Can I get you anything Mr. Alastor?” Was your voice shaky? Did you seem nervous?

The top part of the newspaper folded down to reveal his face. His smile was strained despite the sweet jazz playing over his radio. His radio? Was that correct? 

“Alastor’, darling, and a hot cup of joe would be wonderful,” his eyes lingered on you a little too long before you finally nodded. 

Swallowing, you turned back to the Breville and began grinding the beans. You debated making a second cup for yourself, you did still have thirty minutes before you needed to go, but didn’t necessarily wanna smudge your red lipstick before you left. It’ll give you something for your hands to do, to calm the nerves that is, and to warm your bones - the coldness eliciting goosebumps across your legs. 

Making two cups of coffee, one in Alastor’s “Oh, Deer!” mug - which made you chuckle - you paused, an idea forming in your mind. You didn’t have many ingredients to work with, but you did have one thing. Opening the chai you took a sniff - fresh. You had a feeling, and it was a risk, but you decided to jump off that cliff anyway. Using a strainer you let a few leaves steep in his cup, before swirling it around and straining it out. 

Dropping the mug before him, you finally noticed the extra chair that had been added to the table - right next to him. When did that get there? Nifty sat to your right with Angel right across from you. You tried to catch Angel’s attention, to thank him for adding the extra seat, but he didn’t notice you as he was too busy licking the foam from his lips while sending Husk a sexual retort. Meanwhile, Nifty was stabbing away at her plate, too busy to notice your sudden hesitation.

Was it because of Alastor? 

Your mind flits back to the radio broadcast last night and Alastor’s grand display?-battle?-sing a-long?-with the media demon Vox. Seems he had a chance to go big at one point but never really made it. You wondered what happened? 

“I don’t bite, darling,” Alastor snapped and his newspaper disappeared. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his knees before taking a sip of his mug. His eyes lit up, his smile curling at the edge. You held your breath as you waited for his reaction. 

“Please, take a seat,” the chair before you slid back without a touch, a puddle of shadow beneath it shifting ever so slightly. 

He took another sip, his shoulders dropping an inch. You took that as a sign that he enjoyed your coffee concoction and wasn’t going to rip your head off for changing his request. 

Rejoining the table, you swore the air around your legs warmed slightly. 

“Hey, Hair clip, I gotta know something,” Angel chimed across the table, his belly finally full. “What’s a sweet lil’ thing like you gotta do to get yourself down ‘ere?” 

“Angel!” Charlie protested. 

“Wha’? Come on we was all thinkin’ it.” He crossed his many arms. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Charlie’s eyes twinkled. 

“Uhm, no it’s okay,” your hands clench and unclench around the mug, letting the heat soothe your fingers, resisting the urge to rub your neck. “I had the unfortunate circumstances of finding myself at the center of a web of…” you searched for the right word, “disappearances.” Your lips curled into a smile you couldn’t help but form. You tried to hide it by siping your cup. 

Lying was all too easy these days. 

“Oh, shit.” Angel jumped in his seat. 

“Wait, are you telling us you killed people?” Husk breathes. 

“Stab, stab, stab,” Nifty drove her knife into her toast over and over. Vaggie reached over and carefully pulled the needle from her fingers. 

How much do you reveal about this backstory now? If you reveal too much it’ll appear as if you have nothing to hide, but chatty Sinners were suspicious Sinners. Give them just a nugget to chew on for now. 

“Technically, the cases were never solved. While I was alive anyway…” You mumbled into your cup, conscious of your lipstick on the rim. 

Not denial but not confirmation, either. 

“So, you didn’t kill people?” Husk clarifies. 

“I didn’t say that…” You mumble into the steam.

The beans aren’t bad, but the undercut of chocolate wasn’t your favorite. Add that to the shopping list for today. 

So much to do before tomorrow… 

“So, then you did?” Angel asks. 

You didn’t answer. This conversation was going in circles. 

“Might we have heard of you and your endeavors topside, Ms. Thestral?” Alastor’s forearms were suddenly on the table, his presence leaning into you. 

You felt something slip past your ankles, like a small breeze. You crossed your legs instinctively. 

There’s power in a name down here in Hell. Knowing who people were before gives others leverage, gives them blackmail to use against another. They could threaten your family still alive up top. They could use it to find others who have died but knew you from before for information. The possibilities are endless. 

Alastor knows this. It’s an unspoken rule. It’s why Angel goes by Angel or Husk goes by Husk. He knows you’d never give any exact details leading to who you were and what you did, so he’s decided to toy with you. Much like Sir Pentious from yesterday. 

Let him eat his own medicine then.

“Might we have heard of you and yours, Mr. Alastor?” You leaned into him, your gaze never wavering from his face. A fleeting flash of amusement so swift had you blinked you would have missed it. 

The air was sucked out of the room in one collective gasp as the Hotel Natives waited for his response. 

Geez, were they all afraid of this guy or…? You’d hate to see what they’d do in the presence of an Overlord. 

He tipped his head back and laughed. “I believe you and I are going to get along quite well, darling.” With a snap of his fingers the newspaper reappears, his face disappearing before you got a chance to study it.

The tension in the room drops as everyone lets out their breath. 

You were really going to have to figure out what you were going to do with this Alastor fellow. Perhaps your little outing today would shed light on the subject. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Vaggie is up and out of her seat before you have a chance to register what’s going on. More bangs - coming from the front door. Someone was knocking? Next thing you know, everyone is up and out of their seats and in the foyer - except for Alastor, who decides to take his time. 

Throwing open the door, Vaggie comes face to face with Sir Pentious. “Hello, my dear… Ah!” 

Vaggie plants a facer right into his nose before pulling her spear from the Void. The snake demon collapses at her feet, begging for mercy. 

“Oh, hello again!” Charlie has inserted herself into the situation. This ought to be interesting. You had to admit, you’ve taken some pretty boring jobs before, but the people here were so fun to watch, it made the slow progress worth it. 

Sir Pentious mentions something about redemption, which is exactly the thing to say to the Princess Morningstar. The next thing you know she’s practically dragging him inside.

Angel jumps in to point out the obvious but Vaggie eventually crumbles under Charlie’s begging. 

The gears in your mind turn as they talk, the Princess showing him the foyer, noting how convenient this turn of events just so happened to be. 

Sir Pentious did not just come here on accident - especially after yesterday. Maybe another plan of attack on Alastor? He did catch the red demon off guard, perhaps he was trying again with the same “element of surprise” tactic. 

Regardless, Charlie was dotting on the poor demon like he was a small child in need of shepherding. Was she clueless to the situation or just a bleeding heart hopeful?   

Either way, the mosquito has returned. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Angel’s mood change. From general intrigue to irritation and… was that guilt you were smelling as Charlie showed the snake about? No - self-loathing. They always smelled so similar, it was easy to get the two confused. 

Great now Nifty is fawning over the serpent. The tiny demon is a fucked up enigma that you had no intention of figuring out.

“This is Thestral. Our most recent guest!” Charlie escorts him before you. You shake the snake demon’s hand - gross, he’s slimy. 

Static fills your ears, making your hair stand on end as you shake the demon’s hand.

“And over here is… Oh! Uh, Alastor!” Charlie squeaks. “Our gracious facility manager! You’ve met our newest guest, Sir Pentious… Hehe…” 

You feel Alastor’s eyes on the back of your head before he turns to the snake demon. The serpent cowered before the well-dressed Joe, the room filling with the scent of oranges and mint: fear. 

“Ah, yes! You’re the one who ruined my coat!” The demon’s eyes begin to glow, their eerie red light impregnating the room with their aura. “I definitely remember you now.” 

Was that irritation you sensed? You watched his shoulders as the snake demon attempted to apologize, noting their stiffness despite his relaxed demeanor in the kitchen. 

This guy had a lot of pent up aggression. He carried himself like a clogged overflowing sink someone left the plug in too long. The interaction yesterday with the Vees did nothing to quell his attitude despite the flux he sent the media demon into. The entire grid shut down after you joined Husk at the bar - cellphones, televisions, electricity. It was a blackout for a few hours before his system finally reset. Guess Vox has more of a hold on Pentagram City than you knew. 

Sir Pentious hands Alastor the small piece of fabric he ripped from him yesterday. 

“Ah-Ho!” The Radio Demon sings. “Not many people have been able to take even this much off me, it must have meant quite a lot to you.” 

You snort into your hand, catching a side glance from the Radio Demon. 

The fabric spontaneously combusts into green flame. 

What!? He has access to Hellfire? You try to not let the shock show on your face but he catches it regardless. 

The clock chimes 8 on the wall.

Shit, you were going to be late! 

Shoving your hands into the pockets sewn into the dress, you double check that you did indeed grab your wallet before heading for the door. “I’m sorry Charlie, but I have to go now!” 

“Oh, yes! Don’t forget, one o’clock!” She waves after you. 

The cold sensation slips from your ankles, making you shutter as you head for the front, but before you have a chance to pull the door open, Husk steps into your path. “Hey, kid,” he whispers, looking over your shoulder at something. “Stop by the bar later, wouldya?” 

His tone was far more serious than one would expect for a casual hangout invitation. 

“Sure, Husk,” you nod, worried that something was wrong. 

“Stay safe out there,” he pats your shoulder before heading back to the bar, his eyes downcast as he passes the red demon and Princess now entranced in their own conversation. 

You swear you see Alastor’s shadow move, like it was waving goodbye…

Anyway… That was… weird, but good! Making progress with Husk and an opportunity to hear some gossip from the grumpy bartender. 

You headed out into the cobblestone streets with a new pep in your step and a smile on your face. 

____________________________________

“Thanks, Susan,” you smiled at the potted daisy in your hand. It was half dead but so was she. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” she pinched your cheeks as she screamed. She was deaf, everything she said was in a scream. 

“I’ll see you next week!” You smiled, slowly inching away. “With the lemon finger sandwiches this time!” 

She laughs as you parted ways, flipping her boa over her shoulder as she shuffled. 

You loved the lady, she gave you a room when you had nowhere else to go. After you moved out you thought it would be the end of breakfasts with the old crazy lady, but she begged for tea and snacks once a week in the park. She was lonely - even though she was to blame for her loneliness. She did eat her third husband and all… So, you bought her breakfast and tea once a week. It was the least you could do after everything she has done for you. 

You rounded the Plaza and headed for the doors of Rosie’s Emporium but your stride came to a crashing halt as static filled your ears. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Alastor!” Rosie’s voice carried to the front of the store. 

Fuck! 

Flattening against the other half of the double doors, and hiding your face against the wall, you prayed he would walk right past you and not notice your anxiety-riddled form in the doorway. But, alas, you were never that lucky.

“I wouldn’t dream of it… Oh!” The Radio Demon stopped half stride out the door, his eyes immediately finding yours. The edges of his lips curled far past what you thought possible for his face. His radio faltered just a moment before he addressed you. “Why, hello there.” 

Red bloomed across your cheeks as you came face to face with him. He tipped an eyebrow up, unleashing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

You searched for something to say but words seemed just out of reach. 

What was wrong with you! Why did this demon have so much sway over your emotions! Get yourself together. Why…

Rosie cleared her throat, causing you to jump. She was quiet when she was being sneaky. “And what do we have here?” Her charming New York accent was doing nothing to qualm the nerves in your belly. 

“Thestral, this is Rosie. The most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!” Trumpets echoed through his radio. 

You tried hard not to roll your eyes.

“Oh! Always a charmer,” Rosie smiled wide, her razor sharp teeth on display.

“And Rosie,” his arm wraps around your lower back, pushing you closer to the man-eating Overlord. That cold sensation wraps around your legs again, making you shiver. “It’s my pleasure to introduce you to…”

“Actually,” you interrupt, trying to keep the bite from your voice. Stepping out of Alastor’s grip, the cold follows you. What made him think he could just touch you like that!? “We’ve met.” 

A flash of irritation crosses Alastor’s eyes before being replaced with his mask.

“Oh! What a regal surprise!” Rosie drags you inside, taking the dead potted plant from you. “You’re early!” She goes for a tray of fingers. “Can I offer you something to eat?” 

“I just ate actually,” an uncomfortable laugh escapes your lips. 

You didn’t detest cannibalism - I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good shoulder steak? - it was the way Alastor was looking at you that was setting those butterflies in a flurry. It was a look of… suspicion? You sniffed, but smelled nothing. Hmm, interesting.

“You two know each other?” Alastor twirled his cane, clutching it behind his back. His smile was strained. 

Shit.

“Oh, Thestral and I go way back!” She spun, placing the finger food aside before clamping both her hands atop your shoulders. You were trapped. “Practically fell on top of me when she died!” 

Alastor’s eyes light up with the addition of the new information. “Did she now?” 

You stop him from asking anymore questions with an awkward laugh. “Rosie, don’t you have to take my measurements?” 

“Oh, my stars! You’re here for a dress!” Her eyes sparkle. Cupping your cheeks, she pulls your face to hers. “Finally! This one was getting a little old,” she thumbs a hole in your sleeve you were desperately trying to hide. You frown. 

You didn’t have money to burn often, but when you did you let Rosie dress you up as she pleased. She never wanted money from you, in fact she hated that you offered, but it didn’t feel right to just take her creations without giving her something in return. 

“Oh, don’t fret, doll! You’re still a tomato! Don’t you think so, Alastor?” She pinched your cheeks, turning your face to the red demon in his newly fashioned pin-striped suit.

You met his eyes, he was clearly loving the embarrassment Rosie was showering you with. 

“As cute as a bug’s ear,” he smiled, his eyebrows relaxing in amusement. 

God, did this man do anything other than fucking smile? 

Your face reddened under his direct gaze, its burn bleeding into the cold of Rosie’s fingers. You didn’t like being dotted on and you sure as Hell didn’t like being showed off like this. 

Wait… what did he say? Did he call you cute? The Radio Demon called you cute. 

“Oh!” Rosie finally releases you. You rub your cheeks to lessen the sting from her pinches. “Ya-know, Alastor. I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin’s for a deal to be made, my friend!” 

A deal? Rosie didn’t just throw people a bone out of pity. She didn’t freely offer up anything to anyone unless she respected them. Rosie - the Rosie - respected… him? The Radio Demon was turning out to be a bigger fish than expected. Still, he remained a mystery. God it was irritating. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I must be off. So much to do at the Hotel!” He sung, his radio clicking on a smooth jazz. He picked at invisible lint on his shoulder before his half-lidded eyes met yours. “I‘ll see you this afternoon, darling.” His voice purred, sending butterflies in a flurry within you. With a small bow he slipped out the front door and into Cannibal Plaza taking your breath with him.

You spun as the door shut, swearing you saw a… shadow follow him? 

Fuck, you needed to figure this guy out fast, but that was why you were here wasn’t it? Rosie knew all the best gossip in Pentagram City, she was the ideal source to go to for information on Alastor without raising suspicion at the Hotel. Couldn’t let any of the Natives think you too interested in the Radio Demon. 

“You’re late.”

You spun to face Rosie, a hand on her hip, one eyebrow sky high in suspicion. 

Shaking off the conflicting emotions stirring within you, you met her energy, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It appears you were entertained in my absence.” 

“Don’t start with the attitude, young lady.” She waved a finger at you as she led you into the parlor. 

A set of tea was waiting, half drunk and already cold - tea which was supposed to be for you had you been on time. 

“Susan was extra talkative this morning,” you huffed, taking the chair across from her usual spot. “Seems she missed me.”

The Overlord began tidying up the tray, but as you watched her collect the cups, you couldn’t help but wonder something. “Was that planned?” You huffed.

She gave you a look as if you had asked a stupid question. 

“Why?” You grommeled, shrinking into the chair.

“Posture!” She waved her finger at you. You rolled your eyes but obeyed. “It appears Alastor is back from his sabbatical - which I was only made aware of yesterday when he came in here with a torn suit. I asked you here to create a pho-run-in with the Overlord so that you might be aware of his presence, considering the events of tomorrow.” She placed the tray on the side counter. 

“Wait…” Your ears perked up. Did you hear her correctly? You swallowed hard. 

“I didn’t get a chance to learn of his endeavors with the Hotel until this morning. He made quite a stir yesterday, and when Alastor is in a bad mood you tend to keep conversation short.” She snapped her fingers and a new tray appeared - tea steaming and ready to be served. 

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you. “Rosie, did you…” 

“Now, come to find my surprise when I learned that he had not just already met you, but already had suspicions of your power. He asked questions, Thestral, questions about you, and I…”

“Oh my God, Rosie!” You jumped to your feet, arms clenched at your sides. 

“What has gotten into you?” She stopped mid pour, a hand feigning surprise on her chest. 

“Did you just say that Alastor is an Overlord?” Your heart was beating at a million miles an hour now. 

Taking a breath, the woman who had become like a mother to you finished pouring your cup before she set the tea kettle back onto the tray. She took her cup and plate in hand before finally answering your question. “Yes.” 

You stopped breathing completely. “Fuck,” you mumbled before slowly melting back into the chair. 

Oh my God, how could you be so stupid! Of course the Radio Demon was more powerful than you could ever have imagined. Of course the Radio Demon was an Overlord. Of course an OVERLORD had to be the Hotel manager. Of course an OVERLORD had to sleep across the hall from you! All the planning you put together, all the research, all the preparation and now you had to deal with this! 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Rosie sipped her tea - jasmine, your favorite. 

Alastor had beef with the Vees. He pissed off Vox to the point that it overloaded his circuits and shut the entire grid down. No wonder you didn’t see him in the commercial. What Overlord would want one of his biggest enemies being able to capture him using his greatest asset of surveillance - a camera. 

Sir Pentious came to challenge Alastor your very first day at the Hotel because he had heard that Alastor was back! Which meant the Hotel was now a target! Which made you a target! Alastor’s mere presence was attracting attention - attention you didn’t want and would inevitably get in the way of your plans! 

You had always been a behind the scenes type of person. Operating behind a mask was your specialty. Merely shedding the cloak was filling you to the brim with anxiety and now you had to deal with this! 

No! No! No! No! 

“Thestral you’re burning my couch,” Rosie scolded. 

Looking down, blue flames licked the seat’s plush arm rest. Silently cursing, you pulled the power back in and suffocated it, leaving behind a bit of blackened fabric.

“This is going to be a problem,” you spat through gritted teeth.

Now you knew why everyone was so afraid of him. 

“Why are you so surprised? I thought you knew by the way you were acting when you ran into him in my parlour. Actually, now that I think about it, you looked more smitten than… Huh!” Rosie gasped, her teeth growing into a smile. “Are you sweet on him?” 

Your jaw dropped. “What? No!” 

That was completely illogical! You, sweet on an Overlord!? Preposterous! 

“My dear, you’re blushing!” She practically sang. 

Your hands flew to your cheeks so fast you almost slapped yourself. “Just… What… I… Are you going to take my measurements or not?” 

Rosie laughed before pulling out a measuring tape. “Oh, I am going to dress you to the nines, tomato!” She gave you a knowing smile as she shepherded you to the block before a set of mirrors. 

“Rosie, I do not like the Radio Demon. If anything he poses a problem. A really big problem.” You stepped onto the block as she circled you like a vulture. 

“I am pulling out all the stops for you! Two new dresses, maybe a couple pair of those trousers you adore so much, and definitely a few ideas for a night out on the town. Just in case.” She winks at you in the mirror. “And new shoes too! Those little heels are done for.” 

“Rosie… Just..” You sank your face in your hands. 

She stopped immediately. “What’s wrong, darling? Talk to Auntie Rosie.” 

Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, releasing as much anxiety as you could with it. 

Things were a lot easier when you operated in the shadows. 

You faked a small smile before pulling the money clip from your pocket, trying to turn the conversation to something you could handle. “At least let me pay you this time.” 

Rosie’s face turned into one of determination and pride. “You got it back from Crim, didn’t ya’?” 

You pulled your other hand from your pocket to reveal the black calling card. “Indeed I did.” 

_______________________________________

You took your time heading to the Entertainment District, letting Rosie’s words simmer within your brain. 

The Radio Demon was an Overlord and a mysterious one at that. He disappeared seven years ago, only to magically reappear recently under the guise of Charlie’s Hotel Manager. 

Funny how Lilith also disappeared seven years ago. Funny how this Extermination just so happens to be a special one. 

But before Alastor took his paid time off, it seems he was quite the shit around here. That at least explains the radio broadcasts: the incessant screaming of souls Alastor plays at whim. You had to admire that part. The man had class, he had art, he had theatrics. You just killed and walked away, not wanting the media spotlight, but Alastor? He thrived off of it. He was a walking entertainment broadcast dependent upon the attention of others. 

God, and his ego? You didn’t even want to start down that road. No wonder he got so pissy when you didn’t cower before him like thousands of others do. Fuck, the only one not afraid of him is Princess Morningstar - not because she considers herself more powerful than him but because she is naive. Alastor would kill her in a heartbeat if it meant accomplishing his goals.

Speaking of, what were his goals? Surely he didn’t wish to climb the ladder of hotel management. Alastor wasn’t an assistant type of guy. He had to be the boss. So whatever plan he has, playing make believe with the Princess has put him in a superior position despite what it appears. 

Was that it then? Was taking down Charlie his endgame? But why? Charlie doesn’t rule, she doesn’t utilize her power, she doesn’t do anything. She just kind of hangs out with Vaggie and cleans up chemical spills and hugs trees and shit. She wasn’t someone all powerful to target and take down - not like Lilith. 

Wait. Fuck. Lilith.

That’s what this is about. He disappeared seven years ago with Lilith and he’s back now because of Lilith. 

So get to Charlie to get to Lilith, but what does Alastor want with Lilith?  

So entranced in thought you finally realized you were heading in the complete wrong direction and had stumbled into a part of town you had never been. 

A window of television screens suddenly shifts to a bright yellow light. “Voxtech Angelic Security coming soon!” The ad chimes along with the new Voxtech logo sprouting a pair of wings. 

That was going to prove a problem for your late night activities. Not that anyone has ever really been able to capture you on camera before. You're a mass of black smoke when you fly and a dark hooded figure with glowing yellow eyes when you weren’t. Hell, the entirety of Pentagram City thought you were a dude. A little sexist but whatever… 

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath before turning down an alley you were hoping was a short cut. 

“That fucking, fuck!” Vox comes flying out of a side door, trying desperately to tie his bow tie which has now become a knot around his neck. 

You would have hid, you would have turned around and ran the moment you saw him, had he not run right into you. 

Vox’s back slams into your shoulder, knocking you to the ground. The media demon turns on you, his one eye glowing red, a look of pure wrath flashing across his screen. 

“Watch it!” He bites.

You give him an exasperated look before climbing to your feet. Great, now this dress is truly ruined! Your right hip is covered in black dirt, and there’s a tear along the hem. Rosie is going to kill you. 

“You ran into me,” you brush your skirt. You didn’t snap at him, you simply stated the truth. 

The demon is taken aback. How dare you speak to him like that! Did you not know who he is? 

“You want to repeat that again you, little…” He stops mid sentence, his attention drawn to the hand you were extending him. “What are you doing?” 

You gesture to the bow tie, nonchalantly, “I had a lot of brothers growing up. I got good at tying ties and bow ties and you look like you could use some help.” You nod to his left thumb, thoroughly stuck in the knot. 

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, staring at you as if you had just sprouted a second head. When he doesn’t respond, you roll your eyes and begin unraveling the silk around his neck. The demon stiffens beneath your touch, freezing in place. You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head as you worked. 

It was a simple red bow tie, the slipperiness of the fabric made it difficult to get the ends even, but a few twists and you had it back to normal. You even closed the distance, folding the band around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt. 

He doesn’t have that aura of static like Alastor does nor that sense of coldness which hangs about his shadow. Really you expected more similarities between the two, given that they were practically each other’s counterparts. But here, now, you didn’t get the same feelings being around Vox like you did the Radio Demon. Actually it was lack thereof. 

It was probably just Vox’s lack of power. Really and truthfully you meant it when you said Vox is only ⅓ of an Overlord. Without the other Vees, he isn’t a threat. Alastor? That man was full power in only one suit. 

Wait… why were you so focused on comparing him to Alastor right now? 

“There,” you slapped your hands against your thighs. “Ta-da!” You gave him a show of jazz hands before continuing down the alleyway. A shiver runs down your spine as you could feel his gaze still on your form. God, he’s such a creep.

“Hey! Wait!” The media demon calls after you. 

You roll your eyes before spinning, cursing under your breath. 

The look on Vox’s face made you pause. Was that…? You sniffed. Curiosity? No, that wasn’t quite right. You sniffed again, not able to place the emotion. You’ve never really smelled anything like it before. 

The demon clears his throat, suddenly self conscious. “Can I at least offer you a ride to wherever you’re going… as a thank you?” He crosses his arms in front of him, taking a few slow steps in your direction. 

Fuck that. The last thing you wanted was Vox to know anything about you. Anything at all. 

“No, thanks,” you spin again and…

“Can I at least know your name?” He tries again.

Ugh! 

“Why?” You bite, your hands finding your hips. 

The demon looks confused before his screen flashes back to a neutral face. He smiles and it’s far softer than you expected, “I just want to know the name of my savior.” He chuckles. “I got a little mixed up back there and am grateful for your services in fixing the situation.” 

Okay… You’ve never actually seen Vox be nice before. This was weird. 

Your eyes trail his form from his shoes to the broken antenna atop his head. You’ve never actually seen the media demon in person, but he cleans up well. The suit was nice but the hat was a little corny. No one wears top hats anymore. Also, his head is a flat television screen, how does that thing even stay up there? 

“Uh, no.”

He blinks. “No?”

“Yeah, no.” You repeat. Was he dumb? 

He scoffs, “do you know who I am?” 

You spin, not daring to stop this time, “yup!” You waved to him over your shoulder, not looking back. “Bye!” 

______________________________________

Vox sprints through the door, the wood vibrating off its hinges. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Velvette snaps from her place on the couch. 

“I don’t know…” The media demon slams his hands against his desk, a look of madness on his face as his one eye blinks red. “I didn’t get her name…” He whispers to himself. 

“Who?” Velvette smacks her lips against a lollipop, a loud ‘pop!’ with each suck. 

“The most beautiful creature in Hell…”

Link to Chapter Three!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[artbyblastweave]

I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

[multiverse-sparkles]

Loving him was never enough — B. Barnes.

summary: you allow yourself to feel the loss and the hurt of his betrayal— but after this, you promise yourself; no more. this time, you leave bucky barnes. this time, you put yourself first.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cheating, ANGST, more angst, allusions to pregnancy, cursing.

part 2 to this

the party was in full swing downstairs; another celebration for a reason you no longer bothered to remember. from the third year of your marriage, banquets and gatherings were a part of your week, either with your husband's business associates or simply just friends getting together for the sake of appearances, it was a chore itself to try and keep up with the latest reason for a celebration of such caliber.

yet you have always played your part well; smiling, cheering, and raising toast when needed be. you've also perfected the charade of a loving husband and wife, sharing ocassional whispers and laughter, perhaps even a lingering kiss; and sometimes, they were welcomed. sometimes, you do feel the tenderness as he gazes at you. you feel the butterflies whenever he would whisper something cheesy on your ears. even the touch of his lips upon yours were enough to renew hope, until, come another day.

but recently, you've only ever been feeling the heavy weight of dread on the pit of your stomach. something ominous, something akin to resentment ; an emotion you've never entertained, despite his numerous indescretions. his blatant disregard for the sanctity of your marriage has finally caught up with you.

bucky finally exhausted your love.

because as you stared at him, in his act of something so sinful, molding his body with another woman, fucking into her with wild abandon; it was like a bucket of cold water has drenched you.

you were suddenly all too aware of your surroundings, and your grip on the knob loosened, only enough to close the door back again.

the frames rattled, the occupants of the bed stilled, and only the patter of drifting footsteps filled the silence.

the same time bucky's blood ran cold in his veins.

you slept in what felt like, the best ten fucking hours of rest; awaking with the bright sun peaking from the spaces of the curtain, even the birds chirping happily, and for the first time in a really long time, you woke up with a contented sigh.

you were back in your old home, it's much smaller in size, and comparatively less luxurious than the estate you lived in, but it was home. and it was yours. something that could never be tethered to the man you called your husband.

automatically, you checked your phone for emails; several missed calls and text messages from bucky himself were what welcomed you, yet you opted to ignore them, instead checking in with your close friend and one of new york's finest; andy barber.

barber: will you be free to come to the office at around ten? i can discuss your options, and we'll have to go through the paperwork to sort out whatever you need to do.

barber: also, while we're at it; i'm proud of you.

for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, you thought back to your back and forth correspondence the night prior— thinking, had you really made the decision to leave him? was it real this time?

could you live without him?

you'd pondered about the prospect most of your marriage, ultimately coming to a conclusion that it was difficult to eject james out of your system. he was your entire world and existing without him was a thought that couldn't even exist in your orbit. and ultimately; can you really live the rest of your life, chained to a man so warped up in his own selfishness without making the effort to actually consider what you may be feeling?

can you continously gaslight yourself into thinking that he loved you; in his own, twisted way. that he was only so weak of a man to deny the temptations and wants of his flesh— were you not so tired, and broken down by his false promises, that you ache, deep in your soul.

when will you realize that the only person who deserves unlimited forgiveness was yourself, and not the man who promised you forever; but stomped and ran over the tattered pieces of your heart.

your hand touched upon your stomach, a protective instinct blaring noisily in your head; you have not only yourself to think about now.

years of trying had not once bore to fruiton until now— you wipe the hot tears streaming down your face, a sob echoing in the stilness of the room. why was your love so cruel to you? why was it that you had let things go this far with a person such as james?

you cry out. torn and heart wrenching cries as you let yourself feel the years of betrayal, and heartache, promising yourself that this will be the last.

soon.. you hope; soon, you will no longer cry for him.

[rhiannonsknife]

Just wanted to maybe request an addition to the Stockholm!Rhiannon and raise you Yandere!Rhiannon.

Rhiannon, who kidnapped you not because you witnessed a murder but because she needs you. Maybe she wants you to watch her kill someone, maybe it gives her a rush?

She keeps you tied up, and maybe one day you call her crazy, or say that she needs help and she gets so angry that she kills someone and then blames you for it? Convincing you to stay because it's all your fault that she killed that innocent person and look at what you've done to her.

I love your writing so so much, could I maybe be 🍁 anon?

— warnings: yandere!rhiannon. she’s insane in this one, guys. kidnapping. canon typical violence. obsessive!rhiannon.

rhiannon didn’t kidnap you out of revenge or because you witnessed something you weren’t supposed to -she kidnapped you because you’re hers. in her mind, it’s not even a question of morality; it’s a mere necessity. she didn’t even have a proper reason to take you, except her growing obsession. you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, bumping into her at night, after one of her kills. you couldn’t have known, the blood hidden under her rain coat.

there was no reasons that would justify the fact that she had to have you that night, only the adrenaline from the kill and the need to be yours the way you’re hers already.

she keeps you tied up at first, but not in the garage where she keeps most of her victims (you’re not a victim to her, after all). somewhere personal, somewhere that feels like her. she wants you to associate your surroundings with her presence. she tries her bedroom, at first, but the way you stay up half the night, exhausting yourself by banging the back of your head against the bed frame to make some noise soon pisses her off too much to keep you there. so, she settles for the living room instead.

when she does untie you (on good days), she’s extra vigilant, watching your every move. you can feel her eyes boring into your back no matter where you are; whether she has ran you a bath to clean yourself up or allowed you to move through the space because you stopped feeling your legs from all the sitting.

after a while of your unwilling stay (she refuses to call it what it really is.), rhiannon starts introduce you to her violent nature, not just as an observer but as an accomplice in her mind. she wants you to watch her “work” because it’s the ultimate expression of who she is.

by then, you’ve obviously put two and two together and realized that she’s the killer on the loose that everyone’s been looking for. you’ve also noticed that she really seems to have some fucked up kind of soft spot for you: in all the time you’ve been here, rhiannon has not once laid hands on you (except for when she first took you). she’s been surprisingly gentle, instead.

that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when she returns home to you exhilarated, her clothes stained with blood, her breath heavy. she smiles wide, kneeling in front of you to explain in graphic detail how much she enjoyed it. “i did it for you. doesn’t that mean something?”

the first time you try to ignore it entirely, to draw your eyes away from the crimson that’s staining her clothes and is still dripping from her hands when she runs them through your hair. yet, when it becomes a frequent occurrence that she confesses her kills to you, you can’t hold it together forever.

the first time you call rhiannon crazy, her expression freezes, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. she doesn’t lash out at you immediately, but later that night, she returns with blood on her hands all over again -more than usual.

“you did this,” she accuses, her voice trembling with faux heartbreak. “you made me feel like i wasn’t enough, and i needed to prove myself. don’t you see? this is all your fault”

it’s the first, yet by far not the last time rhiannon does this: she plays the victim often, lamenting how “difficult” you’re making things. she tries to convince you that the outside world could never compare to all that she’s capable of doing for you.

“you’ve seen what i’m capable of. do you think anyone else would protect you like that?” she asks while serving you dinner she’s cooked.

through all of her madness, that soft spot for you is still palpable: she’ll sit beside you while you sleep, stroking your hair, whispering how much you mean to her or surprise you with gifts she’s stolen from her victims -a necklace, a watch, something she thinks will make you feel special. “look what i got for you. do you like it? say you like it”

if you ever dare to defy her, though, she becomes cold and calculating. she might isolate you for hours or days, refusing to speak to you while you remain tied up, just to make you beg for her attention. on the flip side, when you comply or show her even the slightest kindness, she becomes overwhelmingly affectionate, showering you with praise. “see? that’s how it’s supposed to be. just us”

any mention of someone else, anyone who isn’t part of this imaginary ‘us’ rhiannon has created (whether a friend, family member, or stranger) sends her into a jealous spiral. “why are you thinking about them when i’m right here? what do they have that i don’t?” she’ll start making veiled threats about cutting off any potential ties you have to the outside world. “if they cared so much, they’d already be looking for you!”

at this point you’ve learned to tread carefully, where a single wrong word can send her spiraling into either rage or despair. and yet, as she crouches in front of you after another kill, her eyes wide with the kind of devotion that suffocates, you feel something snap inside you.

“why are you doing this?” the question tumbles out of you before you can stop it.

rhiannon’s lips part, surprise flashing across her face. clearly, she hadn’t expected you to speak. then, she leans in a little closer, her breath warm against your face.

“because you’re mine,” she says simply, her smile curling into something sharp, like this is the most logical conclusion. “you’ll see that eventually. you have to”

as she brushes her bloodstained fingers down your cheek, the realization sinks in that she’s not just convincing you. she’s convincing herself of this, too.

[write-tama]

I need more of Francis Mosses x reader fluff tbh and I enjoy reading some of your works with him so here's my request: Reader is stressed about life, college or something of your choice and needed some comfort from him 🥺🤎 thank you in advance aaahshqhs 😭 (tbh I don't see much sfw works of Francis on this app, maybe I'm not searching enough?)

"rest a little-- for me at least.."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ francis mosses x student!stressed!reader

sypnosis ; reader and francis have been hard at work trying to achieve their ultimate goals for the future. but lately, reader has been burning themselves out, and its up to francis to help realize how tired reader is.

containing ; exhaustion, reader is a college student, francis works double shifts, francis and reader are high school sweethearts (in this au anastacha is not his daughter), francis is worried about reader, TOOTH ACHING FLUFF RAGH

author’s note ; eee thank u anon! also dw, i also experienced the same problem trying to find sfw for francis 😭😭 its lowkey the reason why i had to crawl out of my hiatus hole LOL but ya really hope u enjoy :]

04.15.24 | 1.4k words

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Five shots of espresso from the cafe across the block could not fix how fucking exhausted you were.

You and Francis have been together since your highschool days. You have always dreamed of going to college to become a forensic scientist to work in the police force for super interesting crimes— but holy shit— were you tired from the projects and the essays.

You haven’t seen Francis in a few days either, despite living in the same apartment. He’s been working shifts in the morning and night just to make ends meet while also saving up for a house that you two could buy together. It was exhausting, but it was all a part of the plan. You worked a little side job as well delivering papers early in the morning just as a quick cash grab, but that also meant you barely spent mornings with your boyfriend. It’s not like you guys had the time anyway. He had to work in the morning too, which made it all the more frustrating.

After finally reaching your apartment, you immediately kicked off your shoes and threw your bag to the nearest corner before flopping down on the couch. A loud groan rumbled from your throat, finally giving your exhaustion a voice. You looked up from the couch, too tired to even turn on the TV. From the corner of your eye though, you saw in the kitchen a pot on the stove with a bright yellow sticky note on the top of it. Out of curiosity, you lifted yourself from the cushions with all your strength before heading towards the kitchen.

You waddled over to the pot with a curious tilt to your head as read the sticky note:

You left for work before I could tell you, but I’m coming off my shift early today and I’m not working tonight. Here’s some lunch I prepared this morning. Love you honey, get some rest. -Fran

Your grin stretched from ear-to-ear as you opened the lid to be welcomed with the smell of fresh spaghetti and meatballs. You turned on the gas stove to heat up the food, and used a clean wooden spoon to stir the food gradually. As you did, you couldn’t help as yawns escaped your mouth. You thought about taking a nap after your meal, seeing as how later today you needed to take some notes for an upcoming exam.

Your need for success never gave you the permission to give yourself a break every once in a while. In fact, the only times you did take a break was when Francis was sick and he needed someone by his side to take care of him. Other than that, you were always academically focused. Every once in a while, Francis would voice his opinion, telling you that you shouldn’t be burning yourself out so fast, but it was your determination and your vision of a perfect future with him that fueled you. Was this safe for your own mental health? Absolutely not. But you were aware of the consequences, and you pushed yourself anyway.

You felt your body grow increasingly heavy. You quickly jolted your head up, not even realizing that your eyes were fluttered close and you had stopping moving your spoon for a few seconds. You shook yourself awake, quickly grabbing a plate and helping yourself to a serving. You made sure to turn off the stove as well before throwing the spoon in the sink and grabbing a clean metal fork to enjoy your meal. It was best to hurry on and sit down before you became a danger to yourself.

You placed your food down on the coffee table before curling up on the couch. Maybe some TV would wake me up, you thought to yourself. You picked up the TV remote and browsed through the channels, eventually settling on a random game show that was airing live. Feeling a bit more energized, you placed a pillow in your lap before resting your food on top of it.

After each bite you felt your eyelids getting heavy. Your body started slowly giving in, despite your protests. The host’s voice soon turned into muffles as you felt your head nod a little. Each time you felt yourself falling, you immediately jolted up, not wanting to succumb to your body’s need for rest. What you really needed to do was to finish those essays and projects, and to also greet your loving boyfriend once he comes back from work. Your mind started dragging along little plans on how you would be able to accomplish everything before sleeping, but without realizing, your eyes had fallen closed as you leaned back in the couch.

Francis came back home about an hour later, tired from his work. As he placed his work bag down, he barely realized that your bag was set in the corner as well. “(y/n)?” He began to call out, but as soon as he turned around, he noticed your sleeping figure on the couch curled up with your pillow and food next to you. “Oh, (y/n)..” he mumbled, smiling a little in amusement. Francis walked over you, noticing the running TV and the half-eaten food. He first turned off the TV, making sure to not make too much noise to wake you up. He took your plate as well and covered it with a napkin before storing it in the fridge. Once Francis made it back to the living room, he sighed in relief, noticing that you still haven’t woken up. He rolled up his sleeves before carefully sliding his arms under your body, being as gentle as possible as he carried you to the bedroom.

“Mm..” You mumbled, half asleep. “Franci..?” You croaked out, burying yourself into his chest.

“Mhm..” He hummed. “I found you asleep on the couch.. I’m just moving you to the bedroom if you don’t mind..” He chuckled a little. You groaned a little in response, tugging a little at his button-down uniform.

“No..” you protested. “I have work to do.. I have projects due soon..”

Francis laid you gently down onto the soft mattress. You sat up a bit, realizing that you were still in your casual formal clothes you wore for school. You looked over to Francis, who had changed out of his work clothes, but kept his undershirt on and threw on some pajama pants. “Franci, can you—”

“Here you go.” You looked up, not even realizing that he was already handing you your midnight clothes. His tired eyes gazed upon you, but even then, his eyes were dilated with genuine care. You smiled up at him before taking the clothes and changing on the bed, throwing your clothes in a corner.

You sighed a little as you straightened out your shorts, looking down with a wearied face. “You know I need to get back to work.” You quietly muttered. Francis looked at you with a frown as he stood over the bed.

“You can’t just keep working day and night.” He lectured softly. You scoffed a little before looking at him, only to immediately falter to his puppy-eyed look. “Just rest with me this evening, please, dear?” He asked, folding his arms behind his back as he leaned down.

Your face heated up, flustered at how desperate Francis seemed to be just wanting to have a few minutes ago. You smiled softly before reaching up and caressing his face with your hand. “You know I hate it when you look at me like that..” You whispered.

“Well, it's the only way to get you to agree.” He mumbled back, sinking into your embrace. The two of you were locked in eye contact as Francis slowly climbed into the bed. His hands straddled either side of you as you leaned back against the headboard. Gradually, his lips pressed against yours, and immediately you melted. Your hands snaked around his neck, holding him as close as you could. His touch filled you with the warmth you longed for so long after drawn-out lectures and pressure-inducing assignments. All you wanted was him.

He wrapped your arms around your waist before resting himself on your chest— a sigh escaping his nostrils. “I miss this.” he muttered. “When was the last time we got to hold each other like this?”

You ran fingers through his hair, carefully tugging out knots. “Only heaven knows..” You whispered back. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence. Only the faint hum of the lamp filled your ears as well as the occasional vehicle rushing down the road in front of your apartment complex. Your chest rose and fell as you breathed as Francis buried himself deeper into your embrace. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been a little difficult lately.” you apologized, feeling the guilt prick at your skin. “I’ve just been so stressed with school lately.. All I could think about is work and it's ruining us—”

“Please don’t apologize for that.” Francis was quick to cut you off. He lifted his head up and now sat up properly in front of you. His eyebrows furrowed a little as he looked at your gentle figure. “Please.. Just don’t. I understand you’ve been working so hard lately. I have been to. But this is all for our future, remember?” He grabbed your hand, holding it with both of his hands before kissing your knuckles. “Mmm.. I miss our evenings together too, I truly do, but what I’m concerned about is your wellbeing. You need to give yourself a breather every once in a while. At least promise me that.”

Your body felt weak with each work he uttered. Your head rushed with stars, remembering that its moments like these that make you want to work so hard. You want nothing but blessings for this man, because if anything, he was your savior. Tears pricked at your eyes, sniffling a little as you nodded your head.

“I promise..” You said in a shaky voice. A sincere smile curled Francis lips as he reached down to kiss your forehead.

Everything is going to be okay, you thought to yourself.

Everything is okay.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

thats it! hope you enjoyed :3 sorry i procrastinated on this for a while im def gonna clutch on up writing after school ends (which is end of april). lowk so glad this bc ive been stressed w college work as well so rereading honestly felt SO comforting 😭😭 but anyway ya--

reblogs, likes, even replies are soso appreciated and i hope you enjoyed this story :]

[diazwake]

okay so i have to just ramble about why i think buck and tommy have been doomed to fail from the jump.

i've been thinking about the discussion tommy and buck had right before their first kiss. tommy telling buck to stop being jealous. that he could never take the place buck has in eddie's life. that buck is not replaceable to eddie. tommy talking about how christopher would riot without buck in his life and buck going 'really?' with the brightest happiest goofiest smile on his face just thinking about how much christopher and eddie want him and need him and love him.

these are all things eddie has told buck before, but buck has so much guilt from hurting eddie in his jealousy, that the thought he might have caused the end of his most valuable friendship makes buck's past trauma rear its ugly head. in that moment buck needed someone to tell him he didn't fuck it all up and that he didn't lose his best friend.

this is where i start getting delulu. but i think it’s here, right after tommy reassures buck, that buck starts processing his feelings on what eddie means to him, what they mean to each other, and what they ultimately are. but buck, in an avoidance to fully take in and accept the reality of his feelings for eddie, performs an exercise in subconsciously pivoting those feelings onto tommy.

buck does this because he has nothing to lose with tommy, but he has everything to lose with eddie. he was just reminded of that. "trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting" is an insane thing to say to tommy, and even tommy knows it. those words were meant for eddie.

it's buck's luck that tommy can see the gay of it all and is also a little greedy, so tommy makes the choice to fill in some of the gaps for buck with the kiss. in exchange buck takes this opportunity to use tommy as a blank canvas for what a relationship with someone like eddie could be like, without any of the risk. tommy knows buck is only going to be with him for as long as it takes for him to figure himself out, but tommy's not leaving that exchange empty handed. tommy gets to not feel alone, because he admitted he's jealous of the found family the 118 have built since he's left.

tommy knows it's temporary. i think that's part of the reason why tommy's character is so polarizing in the context of his relationship with buck, and why their relationship so far seems to superficial despite them dating the entirety of 7b. because why would tommy get invested in a relationship built on misguided feelings, fully knowing it's doomed?

[entropyvoid]

So anyway my hot take about the bit where Sunday is taking you on a guided tour through a dramatic play about the history of Penacony is that the confusion of him narrating over the story so you can’t parse what’s goin on is that it’s actually an EXCELLENT creative choice in interactive storytelling actually, because that whole scene isn’t really about Penacony’s past, present, or future, it’s about cult programming. Sunday’s goal is not for you to witness a dramatization of Penacony’s history and form your own thoughts and opinions about it, his goal is a last ditch effort to get you to share HIS specific perspective.

He talks over the story to tell you what’s happening, giving his conclusions from the get-go and sometimes even saying things that seem to directly contradict what he’s speaking over, but by the time you can even parse it, it’s gone and you’re left with little to do but move on. It’s overwhelming and makes it very difficult to form a coherent thought about it, much less a proper refutation to his arguments. It is a tactic intended to melt your brain and repeatedly hit it with a hammer of his view - the only reasonable view. So reasonable that it doesn’t even seem to occur to him that someone might have an opposing interpretation that’s logical, (more on this later,) he’s not open to new ideas, he is so completely and utterly set in his philosophy that he takes a chance in trying to hold your hand through it and explain it to you because he believes that if he just talks you through it, you’ll see the light. He is trying to convert others into to accepting the Order. Inducing mental exhaustion combined with repeating a specific philosophy, backed with an narrative to make it feel credible over and over again until your brain is too fried to do anything but accept if is a pretty common brainwashing tactic. For the devs to actually manage to induce that direct feeling in the players within the safety of fiction is actually a really impressive feat.

And he probably isn’t even really taking the specific approach he does consciously, rather, he is likely repeating some of the tactics that Gopher Wood put him through. Gopher, probably the closest thing Sunday had to a parental figure after his mother’s death, is an entity with no physical form that’s practically nigh omniscient and omnipresent within the dreamscape, is able to take over the bodies of anyone within the Oak family (possibly without their knowledge or without them remembering it?) and has been looking after Sunday from a young age. Firstly, we see them employing very similar (conversational? Argumentative?) styles. From the scene about the rehabilitated bird, we see Gopher giving a very scientific but ultimately leading explanation of natural selection (and the inherent cruelty of nature that Sunday heavily internalizes and repeats further down the line,) then poses a question that seems very open: what do you want to do about it? What do you want to do with this fucked up little fledgling that can’t fly? In his inner world, Sunday presents you with this, and several other personal experiences intended to lead you to a particular answer, then calmly asks you what decision you would’ve made in his place, in a way very reminiscent of how Gopher himself spoke to Sunday and Robin.

Sunday’s answer, to build a cage for the bird so it could live”no matter what,” happens to have aligned pretty well with the philosophies of the Order, and the quick unfortunate end the bird met when it was later released solidified his desire to protect via control, and proved to be a very formative experience for him. I think it’s highly plausible that this an early illustration of Sunday’s cult grooming already taking root, or at the very least, of Gopher fishing for a kid who’s open and susceptible to it. Gopher, seemingly being Sunday’s sole direct conspirator, is almost certainly the one who guided him on the path of worshipping the Order, while also making Sunday feel like it was his idea.

We don’t see too much in the way of interactions between Gopher and Sunday beyond that, so we’ll have to fill in the gaps - but Gopher is shown to be constantly watching over the schemes Sunday is involved in via possession of birds long before we actually learn who he is. He is always there, always watching, he can instantly overtake the will of others (so long as they’re in the Oak family - but that’s abt 1/5th of Penacony’s population and the group Sunday is a part of and thus most surrounded by,) and despite seeming very calm and reasonable, he’s clearly not above shutting people down through direct metal suppression if their questions start to pose any kind of a threat. When Welt’s questions became too direct and poignant, leading to him and Robin realizing that Gopher and Sunday were followers of Ena rather than Xipe, Gopher quickly commands Sunday to use his own mental suppression powers on them (since they’re both outside of Gopher’s control,) and Sunday does not hesitate. I have to wonder - how many times has Gopher potentially used this on Sunday, or any of the people around Sunday who got a little too close to presenting him with ideas that challenged the Order’s philosophy? It would not only be extremely easy for him to isolate Sunday intellectually while retaining his status as the sole voice of reason, but also likely, given that protection through control and domination is kind of the whole theme of the Order. (Or at least - Gopher and Sunday’s interpretation of it.) We can thus extrapolate that Gopher may’ve likely used other tactics of manipulation and control on Sunday that we haven’t seen, but which Sunday may imitate, such as in the segment with him narrating over the play about Penacony’s history.

And Sunday, clearly, is extremely isolated, long before he tres to pull his little stunt that ends in him as the lone awake person in an eternal dreamworld. Aside from Gopher, who can’t really be called on and only shows up when he feels like it, the only person he has to confide in is his sister Robin, but Sunday has long since internalized his whole “the strong protect the weak, and they protect the weak through control” bit to the extent that he tries very hard to shelter her from the things he sees as dangerous and painful. He doesn’t tell her about what happened to the bird (though she figured it out on her own anyway,) he doesn’t tell her a damn thing about his lil Ena cult, and he most certainly does not tell her about his doubts, his troubles, or the emotional weight of hearing about the worst of humanity (like that guy who sold his kids for a ticket) through the confessional booth day in and day out with a script that just says “Xipe forgives you.”

And Robin is, frankly, way stronger and smarter than her brother seems to give her any damn credit for. She’s left Penacony to tour the universe, and she headed into a warzone to help in the process, got shot in the throat, and kept singing after recovery. She’s experienced so much more of the universe than Sunday has, she’s had actual conversations with people about their problems that were not one-sided and driven by some sort of ulterior motive. She’s been the first to pick apart his faulty logic or catch on to him hiding something every time, (whether she mentions it in the moment or not,) she was the first to realize something was wrong and wake up in the end, and she ultimately rallied everyone to save her brother from himself. Had Sunday confided in her, talked about deeper life philosophies with her, shared his thoughts and feelings with her, not been isolated or isolated himself from her, treated her like she was just as strong as he was, things may have turned out very different.

Who’s really more sheltered? Robin, or her brother who tried to protect her from it all?