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

[strawchocoberry]

TOO LATE

ᯓ★ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader 

ᯓ★ trigger warning. obsessive stalker ex || content warning. enemies to lovers, angst, smut, nipple play, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, hate fuck, choking, spanking, handjob, orgasm denial, rough sex, dumbification, degradation kink

ᯓ★ synopsis. Fate is cruel. It can bring people together or tear them apart. But the ending is theirs to make.

❝Had your girlfriend at my house for two days

Should be obvious, the reason she stayed with me❞

ᯓ★ word count. 8.3k

⤷ note. originally posted on ao3 on April 20, 2024.

She ran and ran in the middle of this downpour, without any specific destination in mind. The moment she noticed him among the crowd, she turned around and started sprinting towards the opposite direction, wishing that he hadn’t noticed her as well. Her body trembled, not because it was soaked, but because it remembered that night. She couldn’t process for how long she’d been running. She was short on breath and her legs were about to give up, her speed decreasing, until her paces came to a halt. 

He was stressed and exhausted from a long day. All he wanted at the moment was something to help him take his mind off of his concerns and relax. He was driving around aimlessly through the night, the rain droplets splatting on the windscreen and mixing with the music soothed him. But it still wasn’t enough to calm every part of his turbulent mind. He needed something more — something that would allow him to shut his mind off and just give in to the moment. 

And as if the universe had heard both of them, they found themselves in the same club. They were alone and in desperate need of some company. Their eyes met amongst the sea of people separating them. It was a fervent inner desire that brought them together at that moment. When he walked up to her, he didn’t need too much time to convince her to leave with him. It was stupid of her to go along with him, she knew that very well. But something in him pulled her towards him, making it impossible to deny him. 

Entering the hotel room, he kissed her lips, taking his jacket off, then removing hers, before he cupped her cheeks and guided her towards the bed. He lay her down and hovered above her. He removed her shirt and bra, his hands immediately fondling her breasts and picking on her nipples, as he left his marks all over her neck. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulled him back to her lips, whilst turning them over, her now being on top of him. He was surprised, but didn’t really mind; he found it electrifying. 

Ridding him of his shirt, she took a moment to admire the tattoo on his left side. Blue rose tattoos adorned his neck, which turned into intertwined thorny stems that resembled a chain through the entirety of his arm and culminated in a crown with a keyhole on his hand. She ran her fingers along it, mesmerised by its beauty. His eyes were locked on her, noticing how she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Pushing himself off the mattress, he crushed her lips, averting her attention back to him. 

She pushed him back down and decorated the right side of his neck with her marks. She kissed her way down, taking his pants and boxers off, his hard cock springing free. She stroked him a few times, leaving kitten licks all over and lolling the tip, making him moan. Her lips were sinful, the way they wrapped perfectly around his shaft had him groaning in pleasure. Her tongue swirled around his cock, teasing that one vein in particular, making him reach his orgasm. He pulled himself out of that wicked mouth and stroked himself, ultimately cumming on her exposed titties. 

Grabbing her chin, he brought her lips to his, as he removed her remaining clothes. He rubbed two fingers in her folds, smirking at how wet she already was. Her cunt eagerly welcomed them inside, her throwing her head back, her body arching at his thrusts, as he took his sweet time nibbling on her breasts. She was holding tightly onto his shoulders, as moan after moan escaped her mouth. He smirked at how she creamed around his fingers, when he started stimulating her clit with his thumb. And oh, he loved how she clenched down at him, body shivering, the moment she reached her orgasm. 

As she was on her knees, her legs on either side of his, he took a condom from the pocket of his jeans, opened it with his teeth and slid it down his shaft. Aligning his cock with her hole, he placed his hands on her waist, then slowly pushed her down on him. The stretch of his thick cock made tears well up in her eyes, her breath suddenly caught on her throat. He kissed the tears away, as he slowly rocked her hips against his, his fingers running soothingly through her hair. Before long, craving more of him, she picked up the pace, bouncing now faster, moaning in ecstasy. And when her speed started dropping, he slammed her down on him, driving her to her release, him following a while after. 

It was around 3 am when they both fell back on the bed, their bodies dripping sweat and covered in marks. She told him to take a shower first, as she wanted to rest for a few minutes, not quite feeling her legs. When she walked out of the bathroom, while drying her hair with a towel, he was nowhere to be found. But he had left her a note, saying that she could stay till morning, as he had already taken care of the bill. She lay on the bed, still wearing her bathrobe and felt all the fatigue washing over her, as she fell asleep a few minutes later. 

“This is Y/N Y/L/N, our new assistant manager,” Noel Noa introduced her to his teammates. 

She smiled as each of them greeted her with a handshake. But her smile vanished momentarily as the last player extended his hand to her. 

“I’m Michael Kaiser, Bastard München’s U-20 forward.” 

“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand smiling. 

He didn’t say anything, only flushed her a smile, which made her gulp, picking up a strange feeling of anger lurking behind it. She could think of why, but they didn’t have the time to discuss anything else, as Noa gathered all the players and informed them of today’s training schedule.

And so, her first day started. Since the team’s affairs were mostly handled by the manager, she as the assistant manager was reduced to minor labour, such as helping the players during their training. During the time she didn’t have anything to do, Y/N went through each player’s individual file, trying to learn more about them in order to better accommodate their needs. 

“What a small world we live in.” 

Y/N jolted surprised, hearing his voice amidst the dead silence. Turning around, she noticed Kaiser leaning against the doorframe of the locker room. He had just come out of the shower, hair dripping water down his abs, wearing only a pair of shorts, arms folded to his chest and blue eyes locked on hers. Curving his lips into a sinister smile, he walked slowly towards her, feasting on the pleasure of seeing her take steps back, until she hit the locker behind her. Kaiser took that chance and trapped her in the corner, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him. 

“You knew who I was, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Bullshit!” he yelled, punching the locker room, inches away from her head.

“I didn’t!” she yelled back, defending herself. “I hadn’t realised until I saw you in the training grounds this morning.”

He sneered at how this woman took him for a fool. 

“You really are something else, aren’t you?” 

Her eyes wandered to his neck, looking at the hickeys she had left the previous night. 

“What do you want?” Y/N asked him. 

“Just admit already that last night was something you had planned.”

“I hadn’t. And quite frankly, I don’t understand the cause of your anger.”

“You used me,” Kaiser stated, voice laced with poison and madness. 

“And so did you,” Y/N countered. “We both consented to this mutual exploitation of each other.”

Irritated that he couldn’t deny her claims, he shut the open locker next to her and left. 

A few months had passed since then. Y/N got along well with all the players, except for Kaiser. Ness would occasionally give her the cold shoulder treatment, but she paid no mind, as she had quickly realised that it was Kaiser’s impact. Throughout the duration of these past few months, Kaiser kept treating her like a third-rate character. He seemed uninterested in her, always talking to her with few words, mostly giving her orders, such as “water” or “towel”. 

“Is Kaiser giving you a hard time?” Noa asked her. 

He took a seat next to her on the pitch, his eyes wandered towards the ongoing match between the rest of the players. Noa had noticed from the beginning that Kaiser wasn’t particularly polite towards her, as if he didn’t want Y/N anywhere near him for some unknown reason. He is well-aware of his nature and so he thought that in time he’d mellow down. But that didn’t seem to be the case. 

“It appears that we’re of different mindsets, that’s all,” Y/N answered, laughing nervously. 

“Would you like me to talk to him?”

“No, it’s fine. Besides, I don’t think he’ll listen to you, at least not on this one,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. “Don’t worry, I will not let my personal feelings interfere with my work.”

Noa sighed, then stood up and she did the same.

The training was reaching its end. Mere seconds before the match was over, Kaiser scored a goal, leading his team to the win. Apparently, the players had made a bet between them and the losing team was going to buy dinner. The winners rushed to the showers happily, while the frustrated losers dragged themselves in. 

“I’ll see you all tomorrow then.” Y/N waved at them. 

“Won’t you come with us?” Erik asked. “Or do you have plans for tonight?”

“I don’t, but would it really be alright if I tagged along?”

“Of course!” Benedict smiled. 

Y/N didn’t have time to raise any possible objections, as Benedict softly pushed her out of the door. The other players followed behind them.

Kaiser, however, paused for a minute, an irritated expression painting his face. Ultimately, he regretted going with them, feeling agitated as he was made to sit next to that stupid woman. He didn’t say much, sitting silently next to her, mostly apathetic, nibbling on his food, looking forward to this farce’s finale.

The others seemed quite interested in Y/N, as they willingly brought her with them and included her in their conversations. 

“So, Y/N, do you have a partner at the moment?” Birkenstock inquired, taking a sip of his drink. 

Suddenly, all eyes were on her, eagerly awaiting for an answer. Kaiser sneakily looked at her from the corner of his narrowed eyes, surprisingly interested as well. For the first time that night, he seemed curious about what she had to say, contrary to how he would roll his eyes indifferently every time he heard her cursed voice. 

“I don’t.” 

“Eh?!” the players exclaimed in shock. 

“Quiet down, you’re bothering the other customers,” Noa scolded them. 

“Is it really that big of a surprise?” she asked. 

“It’s just… Unexpected?” Theo explained. 

“What’s so unexpected about it?” Kaiser questioned, leaning on his hand, elbow on the table, his eyes locking with hers. “Not everyone likes the commitment that comes with a relationship. Some prefer to fool around instead.” 

“You sound like you’d know all about it,” Y/N snarked. 

“I do,” he shamelessly agreed. “It’s quite fun, you know. One moment you just need someone to help you relieve the stress of a long day and the next thing you know is that you have someone in your arms to fuck till you’re satisfied.”

He noticed her gaze narrowing, agitated at his words. And Kaiser loved that gaze more than any other expression he had managed to draw out of her during these past few months. “And you know what the best part is? More often than not, all they need is a little attention from you and they’re practically yours to do as you please.” 

She tried, she really did try her best. She knew he was provoking her on purpose, that he only wanted to irritate her for his own amusement. But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from pouring his drink on him, bathing him slowly, as she looked down on him.

His eyes burnt with fierce fury, looking at her in a threatening manner. Everyone on the table, even in the nearby ones, was frozen, watching this scene unfold. Leaving the empty now glass on the table, she picked up her stuff and left without a word. 

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Ness cursed at the audacity of that woman, who had dared humiliate the emperor in public. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Noa warned Kaiser, before rushing after her. 

Y/N was standing outside the restaurant, ready to call for a taxi, when she noticed him coming out. 

“I’m sorry. I screwed up. I know I promised that—”

“Don’t think about that,” he interrupted her. “Are you going home?”

“Yeah, I was going to get a taxi.” 

“Come, I’ll give you a ride. It’s not safe taking a taxi this late on your own.” 

“Thank you.” 

The ride was dipped in silence. Noa was focused on the road, while Y/N had her eyes stuck outside the window. She didn’t know what to say, how to excuse her inexcusable behaviour. And Noa didn’t ask her about it; instead he offered to take her home.

With everything that Kaiser had said back there, she wouldn’t find it surprising if they had all realised the reason behind their constant cold attitude towards each other. She felt stupid for giving in to his provocations and the only thing on her mind was the next day. 

Kaiser walked into his house, dumping the training bag in the living room and making a beeline to the bathroom. He discarded the soaked clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t calmed down at all, still enraged from what happened earlier. Diving into the bathtub, he let the warm water engulf him and relax his exhausted muscles. In his mind, that haughty look in her eyes kept torturing him. He had to do something to put her in her place for that. 

As he walked out of the bathroom, while drying his hair, he heard his phone ringing. He went to check who was calling, only for him to throw it back on the couch, ignoring Noa’s call. Kaiser went to his room and lay on his back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He was restless and his blood burnt hot like lava. Cursing at himself, he stood up and went through his wardrobe searching for a pair of fresh clothes to wear. 

He could hardly recognise himself. He was acting irrationally. He realised that. And yet there was nothing he could do about it. Kaiser reached her front door and rang the doorbell, impatiently waiting for her to answer. Don’t tell me she’s sleeping, he grimaced. The door opened the next minute. The shocked taken aback look in her eyes fed his bruised ego, as he greeted her smirking. 

“What do you want?” Y/N sternly asked, hiding half her body behind the door. 

“You had some nerve back there, humiliating me like that in front of everyone.” 

“You deserved it.” 

“Is that what you think?”

“Are you here to scold me, because your ego took a hit?”

“I’m here to return the favour.” 

“By vexing me?”

“Correct,” he replied, leaning his face dangerously closer to hers. 

They wanted to hit each other, crash each other’s skulls, fucking kill one another. And yet, those cursed mad gleaming locked gazes of theirs drove them insane. Kaiser couldn’t stop himself as his lips pecked hers, before pulling back, their eyes locking instantly. Y/N came out from behind the door, as she initiated another kiss, this time more intense, more cynical, more aggressive. His arms wrapped around her, him chuckling at her wince as he bit her lower lip, whilst walking into her house, shutting the door behind him. 

“If you don’t push me away now, I’m not going to stop,” Kaiser threatened. “And this time, I won’t be as gentle as last time.”

He was waiting for her response, his lips inches away from hers, curved into a smirk. She kissed him and she hated it; she hated that she wanted him. She was just proving to him that his scornful words were true. And she hated it. Without realising, she was biting down on his lower lip so hard that he had to practically grab her hair and yank her head back. She was panting hard with a satisfied smile on her lips, noticing blood oozing from his lip. 

Kaiser had an enraged expression on his face, behind which his fervour struggled to stay under control. He attacked her neck, leaving bloody bite marks all over, delighted to listen to her whimpers. Y/N managed to push him towards the direction of her bedroom, him harshly throwing her on her bed. He removed his shirt, throwing it on the floor, then hovered above her, his tattooed hand wrapping tightly around her throat, choking her, as he kissed her lips, forcing his tongue in her mouth. 

He tore her clothes apart, slapping her tits, before biting onto one of her nipples, while pinching hard the other. She grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling it roughly, as she held onto his arm, digging her nails on his flesh, scratching him. He thrusted two of his fingers in her drenched cunt, making her arch her back. Her hand grasped his clothed cock, quickly setting it free. She squeezed him painfully in her grip, earning a few groans from him, as she kept stroking him. 

Neither let the other cum, leaving each other frustrated from their pent-up releases. Wearing a condom, he violently penetrated her wet folds, drawing one whiny moan from her. He slammed his hips on hers forcefully and aggressively, taking pleasure in how her face contorted from the painful stretch. She grasped his neck and forced his lips on hers, biting down on his wound, tasting his blood. She then moved to his shoulder, sucking on his skin and leaving bite marks, all while she clawed on his back. 

And when he had enough of that, he manhandled her onto her stomach, pulling her ass up in the air and thrusting himself right back in. His hands were on her waist, holding tightly onto it, slamming her body on his. She was holding tightly onto the bed sheets, her face buried into her pillow to prevent him from seeing her tears. He would slap her ass from time to time and sadistically feast on her muffled whimpers and moans. And when he felt her close to release, he would abruptly decrease the speed of his thrusts, only to vex her even more, even if it meant torturing himself at the same time. 

When everything was over, Kaiser dressed up and left, without so much as taking a peak of her. Leaning back on his seat behind the steering wheel, he cursed at the throbbing pain of her scratches on his back, before driving away. Y/N was just lying there, her heart beating like crazy in her chest. She was drained of energy and without realising it she drifted to sleep with puffy eyes and his marks all over her body, as if a curse mark. 

The next morning, neither Kaiser nor Y/N talked about what had occurred the previous night. They spent their day each minding their business and not interfering with one another.

A few weeks passed since then and the situation hadn’t improved. During training sessions, they continued giving each other the cold treatment, although at a somewhat milder level than before. They usually avoided interacting with one another. It was awkward to say the least.

The rest of the players refrained from bringing up what had happened at the restaurant, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable of a tense atmosphere. Listening to her, Noa didn’t try talking to Kaiser about the situation, he did, however, advised him to keep his head in the game, as the team was currently preparing for an upcoming match. 

“Good morning, everyone!” Y/N greeted them, coming into the field. 

Kaiser only looked at her for mere seconds, but that was enough for him to notice her slightly red, swollen eyes. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, pondering over the reason for her crying. However, that was only for a minute. It had nothing to do with him, so there was no reason for him to mull over it. And yet, he couldn’t help but sneak glances at her all day, especially during break time. Y/N seemed fine while handing over water bottles to the players, but when she was left with nothing to do, her gaze wandered off somewhere, a hint of sadness washing over her face. 

Kaiser thought that he was the last one in the building, apart from the cleaning staff. He was surprised to hear her voice talking on the phone, as he passed by the staff’s locker room, heading to the players’ to change and call it a night. Y/N sounded quite upset, but he couldn’t make up what she was saying, as she spoke in a low voice. Hanging up, Y/N leant against the lockers, clenching her heart on her chest.

Picking up her stuff, she walked out and was shocked to stumble upon Kaiser, who was leaning against the wall outside, his arms folded to his chest. She didn’t say anything, simply turned around and started walking away. His eyes were stuck on her form until she disappeared from his sight of vision. 

The following day, though, Y/N went back to her usual self, as if nothing had happened. Kaiser cursed at himself for that slight moment she had managed to occupy his mind. The irritation at his own self was evident during practice, as his shoots appeared particularly violent, even for him. With their upcoming match right around the corner, the rest of the team regarded that as just the emperor getting fired up and nothing more, throwing themselves in practice and matching his energy. 

“Watch out!” 

Y/N didn’t quite realise what happened. Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on the grass with Kaiser hovering on top of her. As Ness sent a killer pass over to the forward from the defence line, the pass was slightly off, going out of the side lines and was about to crush on Y/N who was passing by, not quite having noticed it. Kaiser noticed the ball’s trajectory before anyone else and pushed her out of the way, resulting in their current position.

It was only for mere seconds, before the rest of the team circled them. Their eyes locked for the first time in days. Y/N could only look at him panting hard from the training. Kaiser couldn’t help but lose himself in her eyes, being reminded of that very first night they met. 

“Are you two okay?” Noa asked, concerned. 

“Yeah,” Kaiser replied, pushing himself off the field. “Let’s continue.” 

The players looked over at Y/N, who smiley reassured them that she was alright. Ness apologised with a remorseful smile, before heading back. Noa offered her his hand, helping her back on her feet. He checked just in case that she wasn’t hurt by the fall, sighing in relief. The game proceeded without any other problems after that. 

“Ness,” Kaiser called for him, as they were changing clothes. 

“Hmm?” he responded, turning over to him, while closing his locker. 

The two were currently the only ones in the locker room. 

“What is it?” Ness asked him, tilting his head to the side. 

It had been stuck in his mind for a while now, eating him away. It was no state secret that Ness was obsessively fond of him within the team. The midfielder had engaged in multiple arguments with the other players solely for the smallest things concerning him. Kaiser didn’t usually mind. From his perspective, Ness was a loyal pawn who would go to any lengths to support his emperor’s goals. And he quite liked that. 

“That pass earlier, it was meant to land on her, wasn’t it?” he questioned, looking him dead in the eyes. 

“It was an accident.” 

“Don’t fuck with me, Ness!” Kaiser yelled, slamming him against the locker. “Listen carefully. Don’t ever do something like that again. Your sole purpose is to help me score goals,” he spat, venom slipping off his tongue. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Kaiser let go of him and picked up his training bag, heading towards the exit. 

“She’s messing with you!” Ness tried to excuse himself. “And she still hasn’t apologised for the way she treated you that night. Ever since, she scorns you and—”

“Enough!” he cut him off. “Leave her be, Ness. I won’t be asking again.” 

Looking at Kaiser leaving without so much as sparing a look at him, Ness clenched his hands in fists, rage starting building up deep within him. And despite all the horrendous thoughts that flooded his mind, he wasn’t going to do anything. He was hurt, feeling as if he had disappointed Kaiser — and he had. Even if he didn’t agree with him, he was still willing to follow his order, from fear of being discarded. Not to mention that if that woman’s behaviour didn’t affect Kaiser, Ness might as well follow his lead and not let her get on his nerves either. 

Kaiser was heading to his car, when he heard some people arguing a few metres away from him. He paid them no mind and continued on his way.

“I said let go! You’re hurting me!” he heard a female voice screaming.

Turning around, his body reacted before his brain could process the situation. Forcefully separating the two, he pushed the man away, as he placed Y/N behind him. 

“She said stop, arsehole! Didn’t you hear her?”

The man clicked his tongue in annoyance and walked away without a word. Kaiser turned towards Y/N, his eyes widening in shock, seeing her terrified like that, her body trembling uncontrollably and tears falling from her eyes. 

“Hey, look at me,” he spoke softly. “You’re safe now, that bastard is gone. It’s alright now.” 

“K-Kaiser?”

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s okay now.” He gently caressed her cheek. “Do you know who that was?”

“N-No…” 

“Did he do anything to you?”

“He grabbed my arm… And tried to take me away…” 

“Alright.” Picking up her bag that had fallen to her feet, he took her hand in his and looked at her. “Come, I’ll give you a ride.”

Y/N nodded and followed him to his car. The time they spent in the car was peaceful, each of them immersed in their own thoughts. She would occasionally steal a few glances of Kaiser whilst he was driving, still quite shocked that he of all people had bothered to help her. As the car came to a stop outside her house, he turned towards her, their gazes locking. 

“Thank you for helping me.” 

“Mmm…” he nodded. 

“Goodnight.”

“Mmm…” 

She watched him driving away and disappearing from her view, then dragged herself inside her house. Closing the door, she leant against it, letting herself slip down on the floor. Pulling up her sleeves, she looked at the bruised handprints of that man, her eyes tearing up. Y/N took a long bath, scrubbing as best as she could the marks, wanting to erase their existence from her body. Exhausted, she fell asleep, occasionally waking up through the night from dark memories buried deep within her. 

The following day of the incident with the creepy man, Kaiser had checked up on Y/N, asking if she were okay. She wasn’t, her puffy eyes told him everything he needed to know, but he still went along with her obvious lie of everything being fine.

Subtle changes had occurred in their relationship, as they were now less cold towards each other. Interactions were kept to a minimum, yet the atmosphere around them was more relaxed than ever before.

The players were glad by this sudden turn of events, thanking whatever happened to make them calmer. Ness was still looking down on Y/N from time to time, not quite understanding Kaiser’s thinking, however he didn’t pull any similar stunt again. 

And at last, the match was about to happen. The day before, the players headed home immediately after morning practice was over to prepare themselves for tomorrow night’s game.

Kaiser was taking a bath, relaxing both his body and mind, while visualising the outcome of the game. When he was done, he wore his bathrobe and sat on his bed, scrolling through the contacts on his phone. Nobody really piqued his interest.

Except for her.

Without realising, he was already calling her number. It didn’t take her long to reply. She sounded surprised to receive a call for him, late in the evening. 

“What do you want, Kaiser?”

“Come to my house.” 

“Why?”

“I need your help, Ms. Assistant Manager,” he said in a mischievous tone.  

Y/N wasn’t sure why she obliged to his request — more like his order. As the doors of the lift opened, she sighed before stepping out and ringing his doorbell. Kaiser opened the door for her, greeting her inside with one of his usual service smiles. 

“So, what do you want?”

“You.” 

“W-What do you mean?” she asked him, flustered by his stern reply. 

“I mean…” Kaiser wrapped his arm around her, his face leant to her ear, as he whispered, “You.” He pulled back, eyes looking deep in hers, as he caressed her cheek. “To be more precise, I want to have sex with you. It’s more like a charm, it helps me relax the day before a game,” he explained. “Of course, you can refuse. I won’t force you to stay. But if you do decide to stay, I must warn you that we’ll be at it for a while.” 

Kaiser observed her, deep in thought as she was. Her eyes locked with his, her body was set aflame by his soft grip on it. She wished to refuse and walk away. And yet, for some reason, she was drawn to him. It was like that night they met at the club. There was something in him that held a tight grasp on her, like a chain around her neck, like the thorny briars of his tattoo had engulfed her body.

“Alright…” she whispered to his lips, before giving in to her desires. Kaiser smirked, pleased that she had obliged. 

They shared slow-paced, open mouthed kisses, feeling their bodies melt under one another’s touch. He lifted her up in his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, as he relocated them to his bedroom. He threw her on the bed and hovered above her, attacking her lips, as he started undressing her. He held her as a delicate doll, yet he marked her as a whore. His cock hardened by those little whimpers of hers that escaped her lips every time he bit her.

Her body jolted at the fat stride he licked on her drenched folds. His lips sucked her clit, whilst he simultaneously thrusted two fingers in her wet cunt, curling them up, only to feast his eyes in her head falling back on the pillow, her back arching to his touch, her moans blessing his ears, as her body trembled, reaching her release. 

She pulled his hair, making him hiss, as she brought him to her, then kissed his lips. She gasped, as his tattooed hand choked her throat, him finding the chance to bite her bottom lip. He picked her up, as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing her down in-between his spread legs. Untying his robe, she stroked his cock, as she worshipped it with her lips. His breath hitched, letting out a breathless moan, grabbing a handful of her hair, whilst feeling her lips sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, ultimately leading to his climax. 

He grabbed her chin, bringing her to him and crushing his lips on hers, as she rolled down a condom on his cock. She slowly went down, feeling him stretching her oh so perfectly as ever. She was holding onto his shoulders, as she bounced on his cock, clenching around him, making him lose his grip on reality. His tattooed hand choked her neck, as he sucked on the soft skin of her breasts, his other hand slamming her hips down on his. He slapped her ass, smirking at how she threw her head back, moaning his name in pleasure. 

Lying her down on her stomach, he ridded himself of his robe, then slightly lifted her hips, as he positioned himself in-between her spread legs, thrusting hard and deep inside her cunt, forcing the air out of her lungs.

“Kaiser… More… Please…” she begged him.

He leant down, kissing her shoulder, his tattooed hand wrapping around her neck, turning her face towards his. His thrusts were violent and forceful, penetrating her and hitting all the perfect spots, making her mind go blank. 

“Is this what you want? For me to treat you like a whore?” he mocked her, voice dripping with menace. “Look at you, creaming on my cock, moaning my name.” He thrusted with each point he made. “I bet that’s what you have been dreaming since the last time I fucked you, hmm?” he taunted, kissing some of her tears. 

She couldn’t answer him, as she held tightly onto the bed sheets, feeling herself cum all over his cock. He couldn’t help but get riled up, thrusting aggressively in her, barely holding himself back from his own orgasm. He fucked her through her orgasm, then rolled her on her back, caressing her tear-stained cheek, whispering “Beautiful…” He ravaged her poor little cunt time after time, until he was satisfied. 

Waking up in the morning, a soft smile was curved on his lips, looking at her sleeping peacefully in his embrace, her head on top of his chest. Kaiser took a moment to take in her relaxed features as she was asleep, running his fingers through her hair. Kissing her forehead, he silently left the bed and went on with his morning routine of conversing with himself naked before his mirror, then he wore some clothes, before grabbing his phone to go for a light jog. When he returned, he found Y/N still sleeping. Kaiser had a shower, before settling himself next to her, kissing her bare neck and shoulder, urging her to wake up. 

“You sure like to sleep a lot, don’t you?”

“I-I was just exhausted, that’s all.” 

“Mmm…” he murmured, kissing her forehead. 

“Whose fault do you think that is?” she questioned, hitting his shoulder. 

Kaiser laughed, as he handed her over her clothes.

Y/N rolled her eyes, dressed up, then stood up to get to the kitchen, since her stomach was rumbling in complaint. Her legs hurt quite a bit from last night’s vigorous events, resulting in her partially losing her balance, before he picked her up in his arms and moved the two of them to the kitchen.

They had breakfast in peace, talking about minor stuff, acting like lovers. It feels nice, they both thought, but refrained from sharing with one another. If she were honest, this was the first time in days that Y/N had felt this serene. 

“If we win the match, will you spend the night with me again?” Kaiser asked, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her closer. 

“Only if you win,” Y/N promised. 

He kissed her lips for good luck and ran after the other players on the field.

The match was intense, as both teams were strong. Currently, the score was 2 - 2, only a few seconds remained till the end of the game. All the spectators were sitting on the edge of their seats, anxiously watching the outcome.

Her eyes were stuck on him, following him as he evaded the strong defence line of his opponents. Two of the enemy defenders ganged up on him in an attempt to intercept his goal. Kaiser avoided them and shot the ball above his head, resulting in Bastard München’s win. 

And as she had promised, she let him have his reward for his win. It was maddening. The way he touched her, setting her body aflame, had her standing on the edge of insanity; one step and she was gone. He devoured her like a hungry beast, taking pleasure in breaking her into million pieces like a porcelain doll, only to put all her pieces back together and ruin her all over again and again. He listened to every moan of his name coming out of her parted lips, looked into those teary eyes and oh fuck felt her velvet walls tightening around him, driving him to his orgasm. 

“Are you writing again?” Kaiser asked, leaning down to kiss her neck. 

“Yeah,” Y/N responded, smashing the keyboard, as she was in her writer’s flow. “Hey!” she yelled, as he picked her up. 

He laughed, sitting down on the chair and placing her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “Hmm, let me see. I’m really curious about what happens next.” Kaiser was intrigued to read the text on the laptop’s screen. He had accidentally stumbled upon her writing her novel and read it at first out of curiosity. The way she wrote captivated him, leaving him hungry for more. That’s how they spent most of their days for the next two months. 

“Y/N’s late,” Benedict pointed. “Do you think something happened to her?”

“Kaiser, did she tell you anything about it?” Theo asked him. 

“No,” he replied.

Recalling the previous night, Kaiser couldn’t remember her telling him anything about not coming to work today. They spent their time tangled up in-between her bed sheets, until he got called and had to leave. He texted her late at night and she replied to him, yet she still didn’t mention anything. 

“Y/N won’t be coming to work for a while,” Noa, who had just entered the training field, informed them. “The manager just informed me.” 

Everyone was confused at this sudden announcement, most of all Kaiser. He called her a couple times during breaks, but Y/N never picked up or called him back. He was getting worried about her disappearance. He even stopped by her house on his way back to his, but she wasn’t there. 

Kaiser: Just tell me you’re okay, that’s all I’m asking.

His face lit up when Kaiser noticed her text next morning.

Y/N: I’m fine. I have a few things to take care of and I’ll be right back.

He sighed relieved and went about his day, worrying less now that he knew she was alright. 

Nonetheless, Y/N remained out of sight for at least a month. She didn’t contact him after that one text message and no matter what time he passed by, she was never at her house. Kaiser thought that he might have done something that displeased her. But then again, she would have confronted him already or they would have gone back to their hostile days. This time, she was even taking time off work as well, which complicated things. 

Kaiser was near her house, taking some strolls around in hopes of bumping into her. Spotting her amidst the chaos of people, he went after her, calling her name. Seeing him running towards her, Y/N dropped the bags from the supermarket and ran away as fast as she could, hoping that he didn’t manage to catch up to her.

Kaiser was left looking at her running off, then averted his gaze towards the bags on the ground. It was only for a split second, but he swore she was terrified to see him there. Picking up the bags, he took them to her doorstep and rang the bell. 

“If you don’t want to see me, just fucking say it and I’ll leave you alone!” he cursed. 

From inside the house, Y/N heard his footsteps getting further and further away, tears running down her eyes, muffled cries escaping her lips. The man holding her against the door started laughing like a maniac, her body trembled at its horrifying sound. His body pressured hers against the door, disgusting her, making her feel sick. He kissed her neck, taking pleasure in how she squirmed to his touch. 

“He’s loyal, I’ll give you that.” He laughed. “Good job coming back to me. You could have run with him, but you didn’t. I’m really proud of you.” He kissed her cheek. 

“M-Mark, can you handle lunch today?” she asked him. “I want to rest a little.” 

“Yes, everything for you, my dear. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” 

Shutting the door of her bedroom, she lay on her bed, burying her head on the pillow and crying. Mark Veidt is her ex-boyfriend, with whom she broke up about a year ago. Mark was obsessed with her, to the point he needed to control every aspect of her everyday life. He separated her from her loved ones, locking her up in his house and keeping her to himself, as nobody else was “worthy” of being in her presence. Y/N managed to take his phone from him, as he had taken hers away, immediately calling the police who arrived at the scene of Mark beating her up and took him away. She never saw him again. 

Everything changed the night he was lying in wait for her to come out of the team’s training building. He attacked her, trying to take her by force with him, but Kaiser interfered. He didn’t know it, but that was the second time he had saved her from him, the first being the night they met.

Mark stayed quiet for a while, stalking her and collecting information on her new lover. He was inside her house, going through her worn clothes, engulfing himself in her scent that he had so dearly missed. Hearing the front door opening and people chatting, Mark hid himself inside her wardrobe, leaving it slightly open to peek outside. 

“K-Kaiser, wait—” 

“No, can’t do.” He crushed his lips on hers, his hands roaming her body. “I need you.” 

Kaiser threw her on the bed, hovering above her. Her moans filled his ears, as Mark watched her getting railed by another man. He couldn’t comprehend it. That filthy man was defiling her body, treating her as a mere fuck toy, making her cry and scream.

And yet she was looking at him with lustful eyes, begging him for more of his cruelty. This was a side of hers that he had never seen before. When Y/N was in his arms, he treated her body with utmost respect, for she was his goddess whom he worshipped wholeheartedly. Even so, she had never looked at him the way she looked at that man. 

As he was cutting vegetables for the salad, Mark accidentally cut his finger. He couldn’t believe that the man he loathed would go as far as to come all the way to her house. He had passed quite a few times, but Mark thought that he was simply pissed that his little bitch was ignoring him. He would get over it; or that’s what he wanted to believe. After today he was sure that man would never approach his beloved again.

He and Y/N had lunch together, then put on a movie to watch, while cuddling on the couch. She was trembling in his embrace and Mark thought that it was because of the horror movie he had picked. He hadn’t realised that he was the real reason she was feeling scared. 

From that day, Kaiser didn’t try to reach out to her again. He was angry, angry at her, angry at himself for letting her toy with him. He loathed those feelings he had for her from the beginning. The only reason he gave in was to stop the bleeding in his heart. He never imagined falling this hard, but he had.

And now that she was constantly on his mind, he was in a foul mood almost all the time. Whenever the rest of his teammates asked him about her, he would reply with “don’t know, don’t care” and immediately throw himself at practice. He always kept his mind occupied so as not to think of her. 

“I didn’t know where else to go…” 

Kaiser tried to turn her down, but that heartbreaking state she was in didn’t allow him. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her inside his house harshly. Throwing her on the floor, he looked down at her, his gaze burning with fierce fury. The woman before him was the one who had arbitrarily stolen his heart and broke it one day for a reason unknown to him. And yet that heart of his bled, seeing her breaking down in front of him. But he knew he had to stand strong and not let her affect him. 

“If you came here to cry, do me a favour and leave,” he spat venomously. “I don’t have time for your bullshit anymore.” 

“I know…” she cried. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Kaiser…”

He clicked his tongue, irritated by her cries and slammed her on the wall. His eyes shot daggers at her, daggers dipped in poison, hoping to kill her and with her have his feelings die as well. 

“Haven’t you had enough fun toying with me? What else do you need?” he yelled, his hold on her shoulders tightening. 

A sorrowful cry escaped her lips, as Y/N slipped through his hands down to the floor. She was trembling, she was terrified. Kaiser had never seen her like that. No, he had, that one time. Kneeling before her, he noticed a bruise faintly popping out of her shirt. Taking her shirt off, his eyes widened, looking at the numerous bruises on her body. 

“Who did this to you?” Kaiser asked, barely able to keep his rage in check. 

Y/N explained to him what had happened and he listened to her words carefully, his face derived from all emotions. He couldn’t possibly control the situation, but he wished he could. Her crying her heart out in his chest broke him. He kissed her lips softly, tasting her salty tears and pain.

She begged him to make her forget, if only for a minute and he obliged to her request without a second thought. He touched her body as lightly as a feather, for fear that he might hurt her more. Two days; Kaiser spent the next two days indulging in her every desire, no matter how small or stupid it might have been. 

“Are you sure you want to come as well?” Kaiser asked her, his hand giving a small squeeze to her thigh. 

“Yeah… It’s my problem to begin with.” 

“Stay next to me at all times.” 

The two exited his car and walked to the door of her house. Y/N took a deep breath before opening the door and walking inside. Mark practically ran to the front door from her bedroom, tears running down his cheeks. His face lit up when he saw her, but only for a moment, as he became alert due to Kaiser’s presence that separated the two. 

“If you wanted to go see him, you didn’t have to run away. You could have simply asked.”

“Would you have let me go if I had?”

“No,” Mark replied, his hands turning into fists. “I’ve seen how he treats you. He’s a beast! He doesn’t care about you! He treats you like a common slut! But you’re not. You’re a goddess! The most beautiful goddess that has descended on earth!” 

“Mark, leave.” 

“Do you really wish to stay with him instead of me? Why? What does he have that I don’t?” he yelled frustrated.

“He makes me feel safe. And he never hit me or did anything that I didn’t want.” 

“Can’t you see that he’s using you?” Mark desperately yelled. “He wants to separate us!” 

“Shut up, already!” Y/N yelled. “He has nothing to do with it. I broke up with you a year ago, because of how you treated me. You cannot make me happy. You cannot love me.” 

“Lies! I—”

The door of her house burst open and policemen rushed inside. They immobilised Mark and handcuffed him, as he tried to break free, cursing at them, cursing at the man who stole his lover, cursing at his “goddess”. Kaiser approached him and looked down on him with his cold eyes, watching him gritting his teeth at him, trying in vain to release himself from the handcuffs and attack him. Who’s the real beast between us? he wondered. 

“She spent the past two days at my house. It should be obvious why,” Kaiser taunted him. 

The policemen took Mark away, as he threw insults at Kaiser, who went by Y/N’s side, wrapping his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. The nightmare was finally over. She had never thought that she’d ever be free of him. She didn’t even believe that she’d be able to love anyone again. But she was glad that Kaiser proved her wrong.

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[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!

[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. 

[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."

[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

[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

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞��𝐤 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.

[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.

[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 :]

[pumpkinbirth]

For the build-a-birth prompt:

🤰2️⃣(surprise twin)🏙 (Alleyway) 🛑👖

( in a hurry to get back home but ultimately gives in / cant take it anymore)

"And...reason for leaving work early?"

Because I've been having contractions all morning and my water just fucking broke in the bathroom, that's why.

"N-not feeling well." I replied instead. The clearly uninterested and underpaid desk greeter didn't ask anything further, just stated blandly that this wouldn't count as paid time off.

"That's fine, it's fine, see you around." I said hurriedly, turning and leaving before she could say anything else. As soon as I set foot out the door I felt another contraction coming, but clenched my teeth and kept walking, my gait unsteady. All I had to do was make it to my apartment, where I'd left my phone like an idiot, call my boyfriend, and everything would be fine.

It'll all work out, I thought to try and soothe myself, he'll come, he'll take me to the hospital, I won't have to push on the sidew--wait fuck am I pushing??

Without realizing it I'd stopped to steady myself against a building, and my body had decided to take control, my feet spaced apart where I stood and a new pressure beginning to descend.

No, no, fuck...! Taking a deep breath and checking that no one was coming, I slipped into a nearby alley. I reached a trembling hand down under the hem of my pencil skirt, feeling what was almost certainly the bulge of my lips about to part for the head. Before I could talk myself out of it I gently pressed inward, groaning as I undid what progress my baby had attempted.

"Just wait, baby, please..." I murmured desperately, legs shaky as I started moving again. I kept to the alleyway, if I remembered right it'd act as a shortcut to my apartment. It also kept anyone from noticing every time I'd have to stop and keep myself from progressing any further, my panties ruined with my steadily leaking water as I pushed the head back again and again.

Eventually it became too much to bear, and I didn't even recognize what part of the city I'd found myself in. With a resigned sob I pressed my back to the wall, hoping nobody would hear or see me as I gave into what my body had been trying to do all day.

The contractions were stronger and nearly on top of each other now, and now that I wasn't resisting anymore it only took one push before my baby was crowning into my panties, the soaked fabric bulging out as I muffled a cry. My thighs shook as I stood with my feet further apart, my hands between my legs in anticipation of what was to come. Another good hard push yielded one shoulder, then the other, and soon my panties bagged out further as the rest of my baby was born.

I sagged against the building with exhaustion, carefully retrieving my baby and wrapping it in my work blazer. My belly and lower back still throbbed, but I chalked it up to residual pain, possibly the placenta making its exit. As I waited, though, it didn't seem to be letting up. In fact, my still firm belly visibly cramped with discomfort, and a familiar pressure could be felt deep inside.

"Oh n-no...no no, I can't aga--ahhn...!!" I moaned, heart racing as I braced against the wall once more. My blouse was soaked through, both with sweat and from my swollen tits leaking as I fought through another contraction. I couldn't believe it, not only did I end up having to give birth in an unfamiliar alley, but now I'd have to do it again.

"Please, baby, please come o-ouuUUT!" I wept, no longer caring if I was loud, I just wanted it to be born quickly so I could finally go home. Mercifully, it only took another few pushes until at last I held both babies in my arms, their cries echoing in the alley.

[setsugekka]

❥2:30am (m)

lee minho x fem!reader — exes/established relationship, angst, explicit sexual content. [2k wc] cws: toxic relationship!!, possession/jealousy, smoking, alcohol, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon(?), oral sex (m/f), hair pulling, dirty talk.

Watching Minho struggle to light his cigarette in the breezy, chilled, November air reminds you much of how you've stopped asking him to quit a long time ago, knowing he never would, at least not with the badgering. You eventually realized that the badgering made him want to light up even more—be it out of stress or spite, but probably both.

He spins around in place, despairingly attempting to shield his lighter hand with the other and find a point in which the wind isn't hindering him. Mumbling a "fuck" and "come on" under his breath, and finally managing to get a catch—you watch him drag on it—the most accomplished you've seen him look in a while.

Granted, you don't meet often.

This was on purpose. You don't particularly recall whose decision that was, but you recollect it wasn't solely on him. Without going into too much detail, your relationship had been contentious, and much like the smoking, the contention likely has something to do with why he is sitting on your balcony at 2:30 in the morning on a Wednesday with work in the morning. As much as it's bad for the both of you, and as much as both of you may want to quit—here he is.

Sipping your glass of wine briefly and setting it back down on the table, it catches Minho's eye, and he turns his attention back up to your face. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"Tint, yeah."

"Have you always worn that?"

"No, just trying something new."

His eyebrows shift, downturned, before turning away and looking out into the distance. This doesn't last long, however, because Minho can't let anything go that easily.

"Why?" he finally asks, his tone getting more irritable, more suspicious. Typical of being a couple of glasses in.

You know where this is going. It goes the same way every time.

"Because I wanted to, Minho," you reply, already exhausted from the conversation and that exhaustion lacing your tone. "Who cares."

"I care," he says, putting the rest of his cigarette out into an empty beer can sat between the two of you on the table. "Are you seeing someone?"

You don't want to answer the question. It's not because you are seeing someone, but because of all of the other numerous reasons that you shouldn't have to answer that question. It being none of his business—what it ultimately comes down to, though.

But you know the night is only going to get worse if you don't.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone, I'm perfectly capable of adjusting my appearance without the direction of a man."

Minho's face twists again. He doesn't like that answer, either.

Moments of silence pass between the two of you, what feels like days. Awkwardness filling the tiny balcony and you figure he's just going to leave; get on his phone and text one of numerous other women he's always been juggling at any point in time, like he always had. 

"Anyway, I'm gonna go," he finally says, standing and adjusting his faux leather jacket just to step past you and into your apartment without waiting for you to lead him.

This was Lee Know. A constant reminder of why he's in your past.

Or, supposed to be.

Walking in behind him, courage finally pools in your chest in the form of irritation. He does this every time, and you keep allowing it. It's never different. He's never different.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore, Minho."

The words sort of fall out of your mouth, beginning strong but faltering in identity by the time you reach his name. Standing in the doorway of your bedroom, he turns to look back at you over his shoulder, blinking slowly, almost as if hearing the words was simply an inconvenience to him.

"And why's that, darling?"

"Don't call me that," you say, trying to stand your ground.

"Aw, but you usually like it," he coos, insulting to your ears. 

It's when he turns back to walk towards you that you already know the way the night is headed, because it's almost 3am and the both of you have had a few to drink.

And the glue that held your relationship together for far longer than it ever should have always was the sex.

"It really is such a pretty color," Minho groans, fingers tangled in your hair as you pull back from his cock and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Half-lidded eyes and slightly parted mouth staring back at you with full attention, you forgot what it was like when he unabashedly took you in.

He brings his hand down, placing fingers under your chin to coax you back up to meet him face-to-face, kissing you deeply, biting at your bottom lip just on the cusp of too roughly and then erasing the sensation with a following flick of his tongue.

It was intoxicating. You could never say no to him.

Minho flips you over, back to the mattress of your bed where he had just been and trails his way down, hurriedly burying his face between your thighs, digging blunt fingers into the pliable flesh and groaning into a pussy already embarrassingly wet for him. Minho pulls his face back after a few minutes and brings a hand down, pressing two fingers into you slowly, but deeply. You try not to groan but he's watching intently and that's precisely what he's fishing for—the verbal confirmation that no matter what he does, or says, you'll always be putty in his hands.

And you give it to him, reluctantly, not that you have a choice in the matter.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, meticulously pressing fingers into you while he watches every way that your face shifts in response. "Don't ever let another man have you,"

The command is absolutely toxic, and exhilarating. 

"Not while I'm having you," he quietly adds, mouthing the words into your exposed thigh, "your body is only for me."

He withdraws his fingers, making quick work of his shirt and climbs up the length of your body, kissing you hard again and trailing down the corner of your mouth to your jaw, then neck, and back up to your ear. "Tell me you're mine."

Feeling the head of his cock pressed up to your entrance, you're almost willing to tell him anything he wants to hear to get what you want, but not this.

"Minho," you whine, attempting to press yourself down the bed to reach his hips without having to relent to him.

"Say it!" he then demands, already losing his patience and letting his body weight fall to one forearm, allowing the other arm ample mobility to snake up and grasp your hair into his fist.

You wish you hated it, you wish it didn't make you so fucking hot for him.

"I'm yours."

It's a pathetic squeak with the way your head is pulled back, but it's enough for him—planting his mouth onto your exposed throat to suck at the skin as he slowly presses his length into your aching body. It's a relief, in so many ways. Minho eases off of your hair just enough to allow your head to fall so that he has easier access to your mouth again, enjoying the way you sigh into him as he fills you, a smile pulling across his face no doubt because he gets off on knowing that even if it was a request to hear such things—they certainly aren't lies.

"Good girl," he whispers, slowly pulling out before pressing back in just as languidly, "you're still on the pill?"

"Y-yes," you answer, and with urgency.

"Mmm," he groans, lowly, pulling away from your mouth again to kiss down against your jaw, "I'm going to come inside you, I'm going to put my claim on you all over again."

He never asks, another terrible thing you've come to enjoy from this man.

And Lee Minho never was a fast lover. It was all about control for him, and he knew that the best way to have control was to make you irrevocably hot for him, so he would take his time—do things to and for your body that no one else ever had, and he took joy in it—maybe for all the wrong reasons; in the moments, it didn't matter. It's what made him so difficult to deny.

Hips pressing into your own hard, at just the right pace, it was always the dirty talk that really got you there—combined with his perfect cock, sure, but his voice, his words, domineeringly sexy and a little dangerous—you wished you could go off of him.

Nails gripping harder into his shoulder, you wish that just once you could have the self control to not give him the satisfaction of your orgasm, but with the whimper slipping past your lips—the ultimate betrayal—you knew it wouldn't be this time.

"Oh?" he coos, pace picking up only the slightest bit, "you're going to come, darling?"

You choose not to answer, worrying that any attempt will result in another ping of satisfaction straight to his ego.

"You can try to hold back, might make it more fun," he whispers in response, still pulling his warm lips across the skin of your face, "and that much more enjoyable when you fail."

Minho picks up in all the ways he knows you like, fingers pulling just a bit tighter at the fist sitting to the side of your head, his other arm snaking down and around your leg, pulling it up—allowing his weight to rest on you but also his cock just that particular angle that makes you lose your mind. It makes you fucking livid, the way he knows all of the ways to unravel you—not furious enough to stop, of course. You wished you had the resolve every time.

"Fuck, I'm—" you manage to get out, and it's an angry groan of sorts—perhaps your frustration at the situation, at the man between your legs—finally getting the best of you and seeping out.

And with such a robust sexual history as the one that you and Minho possess, the act of the simultaneous orgasm wasn't a stranger to the two of you.

You feel the way the corners of his mouth curl up, teeth against your neck as he smiles at his anticipated victory, "good baby, come for me," he starts, his voice starting to falter right along with his hips, "let me come into that little pussy of mine."

Three or four more drives of his cock and you feel the muscles of your pussy clamp down around him so hard that it's almost painful. Minho always had this way of causing the most strained, violent orgasms in you. Unable to really manage words, or sounds, the most brutal orgasms always ended up being silent and Minho knew in those moments that that's when he truly had you. So predictable. You can feel him swell and pulse as he unloads inside with a desperate groan—really the only time he ever sounded pathetic was when he came—the sensuality of vulnerability quickly washed away by the afterglow of poor decisions made time and time again.

Minho leans down and kisses you on the mouth when his consciousness finally returns to him, running the hand that had been tangled into your hair along your face gently and swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

"I could do this all day," he whispers, and the words go straight to your chest. That familiar pinging of longing, of tragedy, of mourning what once was.

Minho always got like this after he came. It's why you always left shortly after.

Uhg, those feelings again.

my god this is for real probably one of the first three things i ever wrote jfdkghfgdj million years old lil ficlet. ANYWHO, for the toxic smut likers ♡

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[lionheartedmusings]

as the pieces start to slot together (and i mean... barely, we have like two corners) it's becoming to me more and more apparent that everything we're seeing from q!bad is nothing more than a very elaborate game of chess that he's forced everyone into, and i have thoughts, especially regarding two things he said to q!bagi yesterday that really, really stood out... and something he hasn't said that speaks volumes.

let me preface by saying that q!bad is a liar, a gaslighter, the man is built on lies and deflection — he almost always tells you the truth sandwiched between two lies and leaves you to wonder what the fuck just happened. he's slippery, he's deceitful, and he doesn't make the error of thinking he's the smartest person in the room all the while knowing full well he can pull all the strings he needs mostly undetected.

q!bad is also not someone who measures his love by how much he trusts people — those two things are separate to him to an extent, he can love you with his whole everything and not trust you. the only people he trusts are the eggs — i'd go as far as to say he doesn't even trust skeppy fully. take q!etoiles for example! someone who's always been on q!bad's corner but who he told to his face he can't trust fully because he's too powerful.

his trust issues run so deep that he doesn't even trust himself. he expressed that during the presidential election arc, and he's questioned if he's the one helping the feds subconsciously — q!bad hasn't cleared himself out of his own suspect list, and i need people to understand that.

q!bad is paranoid and cautious and every move he makes is weighed against the cost of making it, and how that could cause security and safety issues. it's exhausting, by the way, and i will go into heavy detail about that at a later date — how much it weighs on him to always think of the worst and prepare and anticipate and fight to prevent it.

still, it's... pretty apparent when q!bad is telling the truth if you know him enough — he does it when he doesn't say enough. if he's being cryptic, if his voice drops and he seems blaze about something unimportant... he's telling you a lot more than he's letting on, and he's hoping you'll catch on. i find it fascinating that he chose to do that with q!bagi yesterday.

"my only goals are to find my kids and to leave the island" is such a rich morsel of where q!bad is going with this? we know he's sussing out someone who is knowingly or unknowingly working with the federation, but i don't think that's all — i think he knows very well what he plans to do when he finds that person, and also knows how he plans on using that info to get everyone out safely.

he also blatantly (in q!bad speech) told q!bagi that everything he's doing, he's doing for a reason and that that reason is ultimately a positive end goal for everyone. he was telling her that he's got a purpose, he's not crazy or erratic on a whim — he's calculated. i don't know if he chose q!bagi because he knew she wouldn't get it but he hoped she'd find it curious, or if he just needed to talk at someone, but it really stood out to me.

the second thing that stood out was his surprise that q!bagi had even trusted him before, and that knowing that was the highlight of his day.

now, i genuinely don't think q!bad measures his love / care in terms of how much he trusts other people, but he measures his own worth in how much he's trusted, relied on, and how much he can do for others. for him to blatantly admit how that little admission of trust even if it's gone now means so much to him? my man's struggling big time (we knew that already) but enough that he's vocalizing it.

but really can we be surprised? i've talked about how i didn't feel like q!bad was sorry for kidnapping / torturing ron and i've let him cook and changed my mind on the subject... kind of.

i think q!bad is remorseful and sorry for what he's having to do, more than of what he's doing. he's sorry he's having to go to this length, he spoke candidly about how much he hated hurting his friends and how he wasn't sure how many more he'd have to hurt in the process, he hates that for his plan to succeed (and everything is always "going according to plan") he has to do these things. he wishes he didn't have to.

he's not sorry for what he's doing, but he is. he's sorry he's hurting people, but he's not sorry that his plan has to be seen through — he's working towards the big picture, and he can't stop now. he knew what he was getting into, and there's no jumping ship now. he decided to burn himself and his bridges for the benefit of his children and his family (and q!bad's family is much more extensive than he lets on) and it's his cross to bear now.

he also doesn't trust himself, like i said before.

here's the thing about q!bad — he will talk in circles, alone, for hours. he'll run scenarios over and over in his head, ruminate, theorize and discard possibilities to exhaustion... it's the things he says once and doesn't mention again that are scary, because he locks them down in his head where it's safe.

he's noticed the federation is incredibly lenient with him — he said it offhandedly once, alone, he said "chat, have you noticed that all they ever give me is a slap on the wrist" — he knows. he knows something's up, he knows something's wrong with that picture.

he doesn't trust himself. he'll get to the bottom of this whole thing if it kills him, and by god if he has to be the most hated man on this island by the end of it... so be it. it's a small sacrifice to make for the children that he loves, and for their many families that he considers friends.

never forget that q!bad is, above all else, the man who lives in service of others... it's just that sometimes, that service isn't items and help and safety.

we also need to acknowledge that what q!bad is doing is most likely a direct parallel to what q!cellbit did with the regret arc but i don't think people are ready for that conversation yet

[novarowan]

Sagau draft

This is just a snippet of something that I wrote a couple of months ago, and I just want to know if anybody wants me to write more. I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyway, let me know what you think.

‘Well, isn’t this ironic?’ You think to yourself. You had just been reading SAGAU fanfics, (cause lets be honest, who wouldn’t want to be an ultimate creator god?) and now you find yourself running away from angry NPCs.

You gasped when you felt cold pain on your back. One of the knights had caught up to you and hit you with his sword. Choking from the sudden agony, you felt the adrenaline kick in and ran faster. You were coming up on the top of Starsnatch Cliff, and if only you could just jump into the ocean below, you could get away.

You heard them shout something at the same time that something popped up in your line of sight. You had no time to look at it though, and you couldn’t hear what they said. Your breathing was too loud to hear anything but your lungs working overtime.

There, THERE, THERE.

Without hesitation, you jump. The ocean was fast approaching, and you prayed that you would be able to make it out of this alive. If you entered wrong, it would be like landing on concrete from this height.

Feet first, you dropped into the calm waters.

You broke the surface with a gasp and began swimming to shore, laying on the sand in exhaustion.

“I can’t b-believe that fucking worked.” You let out a short, hysterical giggle before what looked like a black rectangle appeared in the corner of your eye. “What now?” You groaned. Today had been a long day already, and you had only been awake for an hour at most.

When you concentrated on it, it filled your vision.

“Welcome to Teyvat! As the creator of this version of Teyvat, your leveling path will be slightly different to the characters you have come to know. I am your handy assistant, Tutor, who will help you accomplish your ascension.”

“Uh… ok. At this point, I don’t think anything can shock me.” A little red dot appeared at the top of the rectangle, and a little arrow appeared on the right. You lifted your hand and touched it, a new message popping up.

“Quest one: Increase all elemental and physical resistances.”

“Hint: To increase resistances, you must experience the elements.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shifted over to a new tab that came into existence after you finished reading. Touching it took you to a screen with a lot of stats.

Max HP:                      3,027

ATK:                             89

DEF:                            94

Elemental Mastery:      0

Max Stamina:              240

A new message popped up on the message screen. You quickly switch back over.

“ +1% Physical Resistance.

Total Physical Resistance: 1%”

You stare in disbelief. You had no idea what you could have done that you give you any sort of resistance. It wasn’t until your wound started to throb that you put the pieces together. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“I have to literally get attacked with every element to complete this quest?”

“Correct.” The message came through on the screen before disappearing.

“So you can answer my questions.”

“Within reason. That is why I am called Tutor. I am created by the system to help the chosen players.”

“So there are others like me?”

“Correct. There were 1,000 players chosen to take this path.”

“Would you like to see your current talents?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” A new tab appeared, and you moved over to that screen.

Resurrection: In case of death, Player will resurrect within 24 hours in a safe location.

Blessing of nature: Taking damage will increase resistance to that type of damage permanently.

“There’s only two.”

“Indeed. As you grow and ascend, you will receive more.”

“There is a chest 127 feet to your left that contains a dull blade. Please retrieve it to complete your quest.”

You blink and the screen disappears. You can see a little black dot in the corner of your eye. You quickly figured out that focusing on that dot opened the screen, and looking elsewhere closed it.

“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” You couldn’t say that you were necessarily excited about the prospect of intentionally being attacked, but if it helped you out, then it helped, end of story.

In the distance, you could see a little wooden chest. Upon opening, it did contain a sword, along with a couple of miscellaneous items.

“There they are!”

You whipped your head around to see a group of knights and…

“Oh shit.”

The acting grandmaster. Well, you were screwed. Might as well see if Resurrection worked like it was supposed to.

Standing your ground, you watched warily as they approached you. Your back was still hurting you, but you tried not to let it show.

“Imposter.” Jean spoke with authority. “Stand down and come with us peacefully.”

‘I have to get her to attack me.’ You thought and put on an arrogant air.

“And why would I do that, exactly? Have I committed a crime?”

Jean didn’t waver, or show much emotion other than the stern animosity on her face. “You are being charged with the heresy of impersonating our creator.”

“That’s a little bit overplayed, don’t you think?”

You swore that you had read so many SAGAU fics that you could quote every reason they had for killing you before they could say them.

“What?” Jean’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I mean, do you really think that it’s my fault that I just so happened to get this exact face? You should blame my parents for being horny and conceiving me.”

Her mouth dropped open is shock and disgust. “Watch what you say, imposter.”

“Hey Jean, guess what?”

She glared at you.

“Your creator must be an insecure little bitch to have you guys kill anyone who looks like them.”

She moved faster than you thought she would. One second she was standing ten feet away. The next second, she was right in front of you, sword glowing teal and murder in her eyes.

‘Oh shit.’

A line of pure anemo energy slashed across your abdomen and chest, painting the sand red and drawing a scream of pain from your lips.

                                                            “+1% Anemo Resistance.

                                                            Total Anemo Resistance: 1%”

Searing pain unlike anything you had ever before. Distantly, you thought ‘Oh come on. Only one percent?’

“Is that all you got?” You grinned through the pain. She lifted her sword and swiped it across your face. Everything went black. She must have gotten your eyes. “C-come on, Jean. Really go at it.”

Sharp pain in your shoulder and your arm went dead.

“Physical Resistance +1%”   “Physical Resistance +1%”  “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%”   “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%” 

                                                “Total Physical Resistance: 10%”

                                                “Total Anemo Resistance: 4%”

                                                      Resurrection activated

                                                             23hrs 55secs

                                                                  ………

                                                                    10secs

You shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air and clawing at your chest. Your eyes darted around you, zeroing in on the weak light pouring into the cave you woke up in. You sighed in relief and flopped back down, accidentally hitting your head on a pebble. “Ow, What the fuck?”

                                                      “Geo Resistance +1%

                                                   Total Geo Resistance 1%”    

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You rubbed the back of your head and groaned. The humor of it wasn’t lost on you though, and you let out a giggle. “Hey Tutor?” The message box opened.

“How can I help you, Player?”

“If I sit under a waterfall, will that give me hydro resistance?”

“Yes, the flow of hydro energy would suffice to give you resistance. Note: The rate of resistance gain would be slower than if you were hit with pure hydro energy.”

“Thank you.” The message box disappeared. It was time to find out where you were and what to do next. Crawling from the little cave, you struggled to stand. Your legs were stiff and wobbly. Craggy cliffs and clouds filled your view. “Liyue, huh? I wonder who I’ll pick a fight with next?”

It took about two days to reach Liyue Harbor, but before you entered the city, you checked your screen.

                                                    Total Pyro Resistance: 0%

                                                    Total Hydro Resistance: 3%

                                                  Total Electro Resistance: 0%

                                                  Total Cryo Resistance: 0%

                                                  Total Dendro Resistance: 1%

                                                  Total Geo Resistance: 4%

                                                  Total Anemo Resistance: 11%

                                                  Total Physical Resistance: 15%

You had obviously run into some monsters on the way to the harbor, and that had increased your resistances. Not much, but at least if you ever ran into Xiao, it would hurt a bit less when he beat the shit out of you. Come to think of it, that seemed like a very likely possibility while being here.

[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?

[the-music-maniac]

How fucked up would it be if Sefikura got Hanahaki? Either one of them. That ship is already toxic AF (affectionate) but imagine the HAVOC.

I'm gonna ramble a bit so I can get the brain worms out but feel free to correct me on any plot points, or character interpretations: I've absorbed all this shit from watching walkthroughs (cause I'm broke and video games are expensy) and I haven't finished watching yet. I'm also playing it fast and loose with when this occurs in canon - I have no idea tbh. My interpretations are probably influenced by fandom already cause I've been reading posts and fanfics, and I am aware that this is SO self indulgent, so again. Biased viewpoint here.

Also since I'm aware that sefikura is a controversial ship even with the ship's popularity and age, if you don't like it, that's fine, just block me or scroll on.

I can see the story being more interesting if Seph is the one to get the disease. Mostly because, while I understand his obsession with Cloud is quite complex and not really there bc of romantic reasons (Cloud has S-cells, Seph kinda just views Cloud as his to control I assume, plus Cloud is useful to him, and the fact that Sephiroth has a god complex a mile wide and Cloud was somehow able to beat him as a mere trooper, etc. etc.) I do think for an individual like Sephiroth, that level of obsession is likely the closest he's going to get to love, or at least a blurring of the lines between love and hate. I don't think he really feels that emotion much anymore, especially not after the first time he died, but whatever he DOES feel for Cloud could be strong enough and close enough in shape for something like Hanahaki to latch onto.

Sephiroth's course of action in response would be interesting to see. Hanahaki weakens the individual, which is something Seph is probably not gonna stand for, even if he has enough hubris that he doesn't think he'll die from it. Maybe similar to the degeneration Genesis was experiencing? There's a thought. I honestly think Sephiroth would find it more intolerable if he reaches a stalemate with the disease, not enough to kill him, but enough to weaken him to the point where it hurts his pride and gets in the way of his plans. That seems like it would grate on him more than the threat of death, which doesn't stick anyways.

Sephiroth's go-to in that situation (upon exhausting other avenues - the first and easiest being, y'know. Murder) would probably be to try the puppet route - force Cloud into feeling that reciprocating emotion. Which like. It doesn't work like that Sephy. And here's where it could get really dark if you were so inclined to write it that way, but I'm not in the mood for that right now so I'm gonna say this - that course of action would bring up a lot of PTSD for Cloud obviously, but a perplexing point would be if Sephiroth just y'know. Succeeded in controlling and forcing that emotion for a bit and then upon realizing Hanahaki doesn't work like that - immediately releases his control. Cloud is left there, sound of mind again and fucked up in the mental health but ultimately unharmed and very confused.

Second course of action, good old fashioned manipulation. Here is where it would probably get convoluted though, while I don't think Sephiroth would go down the full on cracky shit of trying to woo Cloud or anything like that (keep in mind up until now, I don't think the nature of Sephiroth's emotions for Cloud are necessarily romantic, so that's not where the Hanahaki is stemming from, or at least not at the beginning - since we are talking about Sefikura and I do like the romance even if I acknowledge it's a little out there in terms of canon. I'm aware he says some provocative shit, but I think that's to get a reaction - it's taunting more than flirting. So, I don't think it would necessarily occur to Sephiroth to do anything romantic here), I do think Sephiroth would be forced to do shit that's actually helpful. His world domination plans are at a standstill cause he's too weak to enact them, and he's trying to get some sort of reciprocation that's enough for the disease to be satisfied, so even if he doesn't give a shit and thinks it's stupid and a waste of time, he studies Cloud and his friends and their movements and acts accordingly to help. Probably in the most violent way possible, granted. Sending Cloud into more confusion.

What I do find interesting is if Cloud finds out what's happening. Fear in response to learning about possibly romantic feelings on Sephiroth's end is probably unavoidable with how fucked up their in game relations are (Sephiroth's attentions are not exactly kind), but once Cloud realizes the nature of those emotions are not romantic (and therefore not r*pey - while I do have a vested interest in avoiding that, I also don't think it's in character for Seph. He always struck me as someone who either didn't have interest in intercourse for its own sake or just never felt safe enough to try when he was still sane) ironically? I can see Cloud eventually feeling guilty. Because his first reaction would obviously be relief or even happiness at the fact that this is weakening Sephiroth and may potentially lead to his death, and I do believe that would be genuine relief. At the beginning there is no guilt. Just fury at the audacity and a vindictive type of happiness. And then the guilt stems from the insidiousness of a disease like this, as Sephiroth keeps being helpful, and seeing the reality of an individual who no longer acts untouchable like a God, suffering. Not beating the enemy by any honest means but by the simple fact that Cloud despises Sephiroth, and something is responding to that and doing the dirty work for him. And then, feeling guilty about feeling guilty bc he should be happy about keeping Seph contained and unable to hurt others by any means necessary, but he's not. He seems like the type of hero to spiral like that.

And then of course, as time progresses on, the hatred lessening the longer Sephiroth isn't doing any heinous shit, the worry of no longer being able to hold onto enough of that hatred to keep Sephiroth contained, because Cloud isn't stupid, he KNOWS Sephiroth isn't doing this out of anything genuine, but it's still working because humans are humans who have sympathy for those who look like they're suffering and memories that fade and get overwritten with time and new information. And so Cloud knows the second he lets go of that hatred, Sephiroth will go back to killing, but in the same breath he can't help feeling sympathetic. Knowing the manipulation and still falling for it despite yourself is probably uniquely infuriating and seems like the mindfuckery Sephiroth would enjoy.

Here's the kicker though, Cloud's response to that "not-hatred anymore, but not nearly indifferent enough to be neutral" emotion would probably be paired with him treating Sephiroth better than he was treated by any of the Shinra personnel, barring of course Angeal, Genesis and Zack, without even realizing it. Like Sephiroth was dehumanized for so long, both as a weapon to be used and feared and as a public figure to be idolized and adored - none of that was his own to control - so Cloud extending basic courtesies and concern is going to feel different. Maybe it reminds him of Angeal and Genesis, I dunno. It wouldn't be out of the left field, the disease probably already reminds him of the degeneration. So now he's reminded that he was capable of loving people, once. We don't got time to unpack Sephiroth's mile long list of issues in this post but let's say it actually makes Seph come to a couple epiphanies. If Sephiroth's feelings eventually shift to romantic love while Cloud's feelings are shifting to that not-hatred, not-quite-romantic-yet, but not-indifferent, Sephiroth is y'know. Still gonna be stuck with the disease cause it's not technically reciprocation. That would be hilarious wouldn't it. So let's say that happens and Sephy is confused and Cloudy is also confused at the fact that he's beginning to feel charitable towards Sephiroth but he's still not getting better.

On the contrary, I think he would get worse. Because NOW what the Hanahaki is latching onto is real and genuine love. Yeah, that previous weakening wasn't even the disease at full strength, have fun with that.

I can see Sephiroth getting frustrated at this point cause he doesn't seem well adjusted enough to notice his own feelings shifting and put two and two together, so upon realizing that Cloud feels some level of reciprocation and the disease is getting worse, he probably would just. Leave. And at this point in the story I think what would disturb Cloud the most is if he sees Sephiroth give up entirely. Because consistently, the man has never done that before. Sephiroth has never in all the crazy shit that he's done - given up.

Keep in mind, it's only really possible at this point cause Sephiroth has been feeling like absolute dogshit the entire time. Chronic pain wears on you, and for someone who has been inhumanly healthy and then the equivalent of a God, that constant exhaustion and weakness, the choking on your breaths and pain in your chest, and then being so sure of a solution and having hope, only for it to not work and to even get worse - also Seph doesn't have good coping mechanisms clearly - he gives up. And I think this is the push Cloud might need for his own feelings to shift.

And how fucked up would it be if the hanahaki flowers were sent by Aerith though. I don't think she would do that maliciously, but as a way to test if there's any hope for Sephiroth. She maybe didn't necessarily know it would manifest for Cloud, but just some type of reaction. A way to keep her loved ones safe from him? Weakening but not killing him because Sephiroth pollutes the lifestream if he enters it, and he also won't stay dead and everyone keeps suffering because of it and - basically they're at a stalemate. If there is no hope for Seph, then the flowers would do nothing. If there is, then the flowers may be a chance to change things. Imagine that. Whether or not it's in character for Aerith is up for debate but it would be quite interesting.

So Cloud talking to Aerith and learning that? Learning that things aren't as hopeless for Sephiroth as he had assumed? Another point that may cause Cloud's viewpoint to change. It's hard to deny the authenticity of someone's humanity when it's literally killing them.

And since my entire reason for liking Sefikura is partially because Sephiroth's backstory upsets me (most of it's because it's just an interesting dynamic, but the fact that Seph was made to be a weapon, abused throughout his entire life with little to no bodily autonomy nor freedom, thought he had been betrayed by two of the only people he loved, and then manipulated until he went insane, and is now never going to be free of Jenova or his anger and hatred because he gave into his worst demons - that makes me sad. So, admittedly I got into sefikura because of time travel fix-its where Cloud goes back and tries to fix things - which often includes people gradually realizing just how much abuse Sephiroth had suffered, and all the factors that were pushing Seph until he snapped. I mean granted, that doesn't excuse the awful shit he did by any means, but the odds were by every definition, against him from the beginning. The romance was just a large bonus of those fix-its) I'm going to give them a happy ending. Cloud stays there and tries to get Sephiroth back to how he was, and in the process with the amount of time they spend together, and the worry he's been feeling at how Sephiroth is deteriorating, helps push the feelings that are there into fruition. The Hanahaki clears, and Cloud expects to need to fight Sephiroth, expects that he would have to kill him. Sephiroth doesn't - not because he now values humanity or anything because I don't think any amount of redemption is enough for Sephiroth to reach that point, at least not that quickly, that shit would be a lifelong battle - but because he knows Cloud, and he knows he would kill him if he went back to how he was. If it really came down to it, to save the world, Cloud wouldn't hesitate. And once he crosses that line after they've had this dynamic, that's the last betrayal and there would be no going back, no returning. That would be the end, permanently. And he actually wants to stay by Cloud's side. There could be a moment where Sephiroth contemplates it, but in the end his better demons win out, if you wanna add more drama.

I have also thought about what it would be like if Cloud had Hanahaki and it would also be interesting, although the disease type wouldn't quite be the same as for Sephiroth, because Cloud does genuinely hate Seph. So, it would probably be more fucked up - if Sephiroth succeeded in keeping Cloud as a puppet, and that results in a manifestation of Hanahaki because of that forced devotion, since Sephiroth is only using Cloud as a tool. And it ironically weakens Cloud enough that he's no longer useful as a puppet and Sephiroth has to let go. Rinse repeat. Or if Sephiroth is somehow able to use his cells to induce a similar disease in Cloud. That'd be pretty damn fucked up, huh. Compels me though.

Anyways, I dunno if I'll ever use any of these ideas for anything, but it was still interesting to think about. Thank you for reading!