#maybe it's the fact that i have guilt issues and i would love to be a billionaire to end world hunger and wars

[chainnoli]

You get it!! Some more info…

The Wayne’s are all a religious household and they all just had uncanny ability to purify spirits and that kind of thing

I think Damian goes for priesthood because he doesn’t feel like he’ll actually fall in love with anyone or that anyone will love him so it kind of became a hyperfixation for him

So the Wayne’s are all part of the church, born and raised that way, just they were also raised to know how to fight demons as well. Not like Supernatural since the family are in fact all religious and part of said church, though I think Jason and Tim would be pretty agnostic yet still stick with the word since it works. They’re more of the belief that god exists and that’s why his image and words are able to be used but that humanity often twists things so not everything in the Bible is sound to them.

Damian on the other hand literally takes the Bible as gospel so there is a lot of religious guilt for him, but he also reads it so often he actually KNOWS what the Bible says so he’s not a bigot and doesn’t condone bigotry in the name of God.

(Cough cough… unlike modern day..)

This is going to take place in like fantasy 1920/30’s. I say fantasy because Damian would unfortunately be hate crimed but the setting and fashion of the 1920/30’s is what I imagine so creating a fantasy universe where the appearance is just of 1920/30’s like every isekai where they’re in medieval Germany or something LOL

Jon would 100% be over the moon about being in a contract with Damian, and he truly does think Damian now belongs to him and he belongs to Damian. So in his own demon brain they’re totally married. Even if Damian tells him they’re not. With suspiciously red cheeks…

Damian not seeing it, but when Jon fights other demons he’s always always protecting Dami.

He’s being mocked by other demons and threatened and Jon is just cocky and more dangerous about it.

Having no issues sending them back to hell, he doesn’t want to go back to a place without Damian.

Maybe he wanted to stay with humans because he just wanted freedom, but he found himself wanting to be shackled to this human that seems annoyed with his very existence

Also for people wondering about Bruce’s Jewish heritage, in this AU Martha was unfortunately converted through marriage as was the times, but Thomas was never forceful about it. Society is just crap when it comes to the religious views of others.

And most of them say they’re catholic but really they all have their personal relationships with religion and they just use the name Catholic because it’s easier and part of their duty.

It’s why Damian is “devout”, he 100% would explore other religions and even Martha’s history once he finds out, but he also carries a lot of pain and shame so he’s only devout as an excuse. As a shield.

Bruce wouldn’t mind if Damian wanted to be something else, but because he is a proud man and proud of the family business- Damian would never speak of it or mention it so it becomes a deep seeded shame even if Bruce isn’t even in the know.

Damian wouldn’t be a Catholic in any other context I don’t think either. What I like exploring about his character in my aus is finding different ways for him to exist in a way that I could believe.

Being born and raised into a family that are all religious and hold you to certain standards will have you conform to such things especially given the time period.

For him, he didn’t have a choice between following the family traditions or being excommunicated and losing his family.

He’s not catholic in the traditional sense, there’s a lot of religious guilt in place for things like that and also his sexuality.

In this au he researches many religions as a hobby but can’t actually convince himself to leave. It’s a huge mental block, and also it’s even harder to really decide what is the truth and what isn’t when he’s faced with demons every day so he focuses on what he can.

JonDami au but Damian is a devout catholic priest who goes around exorcising demons and ends up on a farm to stay the night on his journey but discovers that the son named Jon was dying until he got better seemingly overnight. It is revealed that Jon has been dead a while but a demon took over the body and enjoyed being a human and didn’t want to be a demon anymore and ‘Jon’ told him he could have his body since there wasn’t a need for it anymore and he just wanted to move on peacefully.

And Damian is like “you cannot stay with this family. You are a demon.”

But Jon doesn’t want to go back to hell, and he seems kind of desperate and adamant. Especially in the way where Damian can see it’s not for malicious reasons. Jon has a genuine fascination with the human world.

So the priest sighs and forms a contract with Jon (kissy kissyyy), making Jon his familiar and he had to help him with exorcisms and sending demons to hell.

It’s incredibly blasphemous, but the dynamic works, and Damian didn’t lose any holy power either. Still keeping his divinity as he has a new demonic partner.

[sherlock-is-ace]

I understand that money is important and it helps. You can't do shit without money, believe me, I get it. And being poor sucks for a variety of reasons, but one that people don't realize is this pretty much exclusively online thing where people insist that donating to help people in need is a mandatory thing...

There's shitty things happening everywhere in the world so we're seeing this more than ever. Think of those posts that start and end (and sometimes they chuck it in between) with

"IF YOU DO NOTHING YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO ACTUALLY HELP HERE'S THE DONATION LINK"

Are poor people just automatically and inherently assholes because we can't give money away? Is once again, human worth and morality stored in the wallet?

And you'll highlight that there are some people out there (good people, understanding people) who view speaking up about something as good as donating to help resolve that issue. But that never lasts... I feel like people see that as "ok you can't donate today, that's fine, sharing is also good. But tomorrow? It's time for the actual help" And that's just not realistic...

I'm not even going to speak on the mental health issues that being poor comes with and how seeing every day that you're an asshole for not helping people with money adds to it... But yeah, maybe don't attack and call people assholes? Especially when you're asking for help?

[into-the-milgramverse]

I wish I could also write out something about Shidou, but like, my opinions are shaped based on combination of other people's takes, and it feels as if everyone kind of just stopped analyzing him after people figured out that his crime is related to asking the families of brain dead patients for permission to use the organs of said brain dead patients. After that, no one really went to look into his character deeper, he kinda just got boiled down to as "oh, a surgeon guy", "guy with family", "guy who takes organs", "guy who wanted to be guilty sooo bad and then got innocent twice in a row".

[crepezinhos]

Apex Predator

POV: Unexpectedly, Sunday decided to pay you a visit a few weeks after you’ve submitted yourself to an abortion. And much less expectedly, your relationship with him evolved to a whole new level that you’ve never even thought of… at the cost of finding out about a dark rumor.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere NSFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Possessive, obsessive and manipulative behavior, hypnosis, cucking kink, dub-con?, usage of guns and threatening

— AU is: In-Game

— Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine

— Reading of the previous part is advised

It’s been almost a month ever since the main conflict of your life has been officially solved. Despite your pity for the baby and Aventurine’s confidence on this issue, you decided that birthing it was not something you wanted or was prepared for, so you opted to unfortunately interrupt its growth before it was too late to do it. You felt horrible. Guilt has been consuming from you from the second you woke up after the surgery and it made you exhausted from all the overthinking and crying. And the second you found Aventurine wasn’t exactly fine with the abortion too, you felt forced to immediately terminate your relationship with him despite his insistence.

It felt uncanny to keep hooking up with him after you aborted his baby. A baby who could’ve continued his endangered bloodline or given Aventurine more reasons to enjoy his life that you chose to kill.

But unlike what you would expect from him, knowing he was hurt with this Avgin baby’s death, Aventurine didn’t take the breakup very well. In fact, he acted extremely shocked towards it, maybe even offended, even if a breakup would be the number one expected thing in a situation like this. He tried to argue with you about it multiple times, but you didn’t want to listen. You were a monster, and he was a mere victim who fell in love with you fro some reason, so you just kept running away from him. You blocked his phone number, ghosting every other number he’d buy to contact you., and you also started avoiding seeing him in real life even if he did his best to stalk you until he reached you.

…

…

God, what a horrible time to be alive.

Remembering all the messes this abortion brought to your life made you sick. So sick not even this comedy show you were helplessly trying to like was helping you getting distracted from your emptiness and depression.

Maybe if you focus just a bit more…

Knock knock knock

Hm?

What was that?

Knock knock

Is someone at your door?

Shit—! They must’ve been waiting for quite a while now! And who the heck could it be?!

You quickly jumped out of your sofa, immediately starting to walk in a fast pace towards the door until you suddenly remembered something that made you freeze in the spot.

You just remembered yourself of this. Aventurine’s attempts to reach you physically and talk to you.

This might be him. Big chances of it. He probably wouldn’t knock on it so gently, and instead, beat it as if he’ll die if he doesn’t come in, but this could be an attempt to make you at least open the door and give him space to possibly get in.

“Who is it?” You asked firmly, ready to hear Aventurine’s whiny voice.

“It’s me.” But the voice of who was actually behind it completely surprised you.

“M-Mr. Oak..?!” You immediately unpaused your steps your seat and rushed to the door.

What could he possibly want at your house? You’re not back at work yet, nor does he have anything to do with you or your issue in particular.

As soon as you opened the door, you met Sunday right in front of you, posing as usual, peacefully standing straight with both arms behind his back and an easy grin on his lips.

“I thought we already had a discussion on how I’d like you to address me, dear.” He referred to the way you reacted to his presence inside your home, scolding very gently, with no sarcasm.

“Ah… Sorry, sir— Sunday!” You sighed, embarrassed at yourself for your pathetic mistake and appearance while he stood to elegantly and angelic. “S-Sorry… I’m still not really used to that…” You shrugged your shoulders, avoiding any further eye contact with him.

“It’s ok. I’m just here to check if everything is okay with you. You didn’t come to work today.” He also shrugged his shoulders, but way more lightly.

“I’m… not supposed to be at work today… Today is the 3rd, I’m supposed to come back tomorrow.” You awkwardly argued back.

“Today is the 4th, dear.” But Sunday kept his easy expression as he maintained his argument.

“Is it?!” You quickly pulled out your phone that was guarded in the pocket of your pants.

11:36… April 4th…

…

…

FUCK!

“Oh my God! I-I’m so sorry for skipping work, sir! I-I mean, Sunday! Oh, God…” If you weren’t embarrassed enough previously, it got even worse now that you made two mistakes at once.

It got you so nervous that you felt forced to put your palms at your face to hide it from him. At least you could pretend you were just doing that out of stress, couldn’t you? Or did he know his presence was making you shy?

“No need to apologize, dear, as long as if it wasn’t intentional. Alas, it’s good for me, as a boss, to personally check up on my workers every now and then.” Sunday gently reached a hand of his to your hair, pushing a thick strand behind your ear, believing it was bothering you.

“O-Oh! Do you wanna come in?” Thinking you caught his message, you immediately undid your embarrassed pose and stepped aside, pushing your door a bit further away too to give him space to walk in.

“I would love that. Thank you, dear.” His little grin in his lips got a bit bigger, but you couldn’t see much of it since he immediately walked in your home.

While he took his first impressions of your house, carefully inspecting its details, you took advantage of him being backwards to you to fix yourself a bit. After all, you want to look minimally decent while hosting your boss, don’t you?

“P-Please don’t mind the mess… I didn’t know you’d be coming.” You fixed your throat too after speaking, believing your voice still sounded tired and sick, but Sunday did nothing but giggle at your worry.

“Don’t worry. I think you have a nice place, dear.” He turned to you again, looking a bit too proud of your home even if it looked so unorganized for his standards.

“T-Thank you…” You looked down again, not being able to handle his kind stare. “Well, hum… would you like a cup of coffee or tea? You can sit down if you want to.” You were a bit desperate to find something to distract you and him from the silence between you two.

“I’ll take the cup of tea if you don’t mind.” Sunday shrugged his shoulders again before beginning to head towards your sofa.

“O-Ok!” While you begin to walk in the other way, towards the kitchen, to start preparing his request.

And as you immediately started searching your catalogue of teas in your counter for his favorite flavor, you started to realize… you didn’t have it. Not a single bag of his favorite kind of tea. And neither do you have SoulGlad, his favorite beverage, in your fridge to at least mix it with the other flavors you have and call it a day.

If this was anyone else but Sunday at your home, you wouldn’t look at it as a problem. But he’s your boss, a very kind one but a very picky one. So picky he’d scold you every time you didn’t get his food orders 101% right, despite those always being so gentle. You didn’t want him to have any worser impressions of you, especially when you’ve just skipped a day of work for no reason at all, do you?

“Hummmm… S-Sunday..?” You walked back to the door frame of your kitchen, staring at him sitting down at the sofa from afar.

“Yes, dear?” He immediately turned his face away from his phone to pay attention to you.

“I don’t have herbal tea or SoulGlad…” You scratched the back of your head as you explained your situation to him.

“I’ll take whatever you have in there, dear.” But he simply smiled back at you again, which you found very confusing.

Sunday was always strict with his food. You promised. This isn’t the reaction you’d expect him to have at all at such an inconvenient situation.

It wasn’t anything serious, but it did give a bit of anxiety. Why was he acting extra sweet to you? Even if you’ve already flawed in the way you should call him, didn’t go to work, and now had zero of his favorite foods to please him. Does he have other intentions with you being here? Does he…

Want to fire you?

“Are you sure, sir?” You asked again, trying to rip out a more negative and honest answer out of him.

“It’s your home, dear, not mine. Your home, your rules.” But he still kept his softness towards you.

And well… he wasn’t wrong. So he at least had this common sense despite all his exigences and stubbornness? Why were you expecting so much less of him anyway? He’s the head of the Oak family, not some impolite punk.

“O-Ok, then…” You walked back to the kitchen after finalizing your little talk with him and spent the next few minutes working on two hot cups of matcha tea for you and him.

When you went back to the living room, you decided to sit in the sofa beside Sunday too, setting the tray with the tea cups in the short table in front of you two.

Sunday grabbed his cup of tea carefully, smelling the refreshing scent before beginning to break the silence between you two.

“So… How are you doing?” He turned his body to you, finally taking his first sip of the tea.

“Me? I’m fine.” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to not go too deep with the conversation.

“Fine? That’s all?” He confronted you lightly, chuckling afterwards. “It’s ok to be honest with me, Y/N. I seek to learn how you’re truly feeling.” Sunday lowed his cup, fully focusing on you while admitting his desire for the deep, harsh truth.

If he really wanted to know, you could at least tell him about some of the mess, couldn’t you? Aeons… Was this even an appropriate conversation to have with your boss?

“Well…” So you decided to lower your level of professionalism, taking a small sip of your tea to prepare yourself for the talk. “It feels weird, you know? I… never thought I’d ever find myself having to do something like this… to choose between letting a baby grow inside me or not…” Even if you’d already spent many hours pondering and sobbing about it, you could still feel tears coming up to your eyes as you spoke it again.

“Your grief is totally understandable and reasonable, Y/N.” Sunday never once stopped smiling at you despite the conversation being so dread, his voice as sweet as honey as he tried to comfort you. “I think a lot of women would’ve done the same in your situation.”

“And what would you do, hum?” And you, knowing Sunday’s beliefs in the protection of life, especially ‘the weak’, started to think maybe this wasn’t a good topic to discuss about with someone like him.

“That would be one intriguing question to make if I was a woman… I can’t ever find myself in such stakes.” Sunday took another sip of his tea, looking down to the floor to think about your question. “But… thinking alternatively, if I was a pregnant woman, considering my job and the quality of the father… I think I would’ve probably found myself doing the same to avoid any further suffer for me and the child, despite me not being exactly supporting of this kind of decision.” Sunday seemed to speak about the father a bit differently than the rest of his words, which caught your attention more than the rest of his speech.

“Are you trying to imply Aventurine wouldn’t be a good father?” You chuckled at him, trying to dig his truth out of him too.

“That’s not something I can judge, nor have the rights to. Only you.” His answer unfortunately made enough sense, avoiding a concrete ‘Yes’ or ‘No’, and that silenced you, giving him space to keep taking the lead in the conversation. “Talking about him, how is he doing? Did he take it well?” Sunday decided to temporality set the cup in his lap, as if he fully wanted to focus on the matter now.

But unfortunately for him, you felt very reluctant to answer. Your vocal chords immediately tangled around each other, as if it couldn’t find appropriate words to say, nor will to be spoken out.

“Hummm…” You mumbled, turning your head to the side and looking down at the floor. “He’s ok.” You nervously lied, flicking your eyes back to his a few times to show respect to him.

“Are you sure?” But Sunday seemed to have already captured your lie, his smirk giving it away.

“L-Listen… I just don’t really wanna talk about that part in specific… It’s very personal between us.” You rapidly turned your whole body to him, finding enough courage to challenge him like that, and that surprised Sunday’s ego a bit.

“I see…” Sunday looked away for a moment, taking another gulp of his tea in silence as you awkwardly sat still staring at him.

He seemed to be thinking, facing north, but truly looking at nothing relevant. The fact he still had a small grin to his lips even after your scolding made it look creepy too. Why the heck would he be smirking at the thought of your relationship with Aventurine and how the abortion affected him?

“But you know you can always trust me to tell your blues and secrets, right?” He turned back to you, but for some reason it hurt.

As soon as his eyes laid on you, a static noise started lowly playing in the back of your head, his words choking and mixing together together in a weird cacophony, for some reason. And your throat felt full, as if it wanted to vomit something… but not something material.

Your doctors warned you that you would probably feel a bit sick after the surgery. You could find yourself vomiting, fatiguing, having tough headaches, warm fevers or other small symptoms, but they didn’t warn you about nausea at all.

And it seemed to be growing worse the more you stared at him, extra colors beginning to shine in the edges of your vision. Every edge of every object, including Sunday, had extra layers of red, yellow and blue around them… a rainbow effect that followed your movement or their movement.

Had your blood pressure dropped to zero or something? Were you about to pass out? It’d be really embarrassing for you to pass out in front of your boss…

“As your boss, it’d be really important for me to know if you’re going through any discomforts or danger in your life or not. The IPC isn’t a joke to mess with, after all.” Sunday kept his smiley facade, not noticing how unwell you looked at the moment.

And the worst part is that his words made your throat feel tighter and heavier. Why did your body feel like it wanted to be honest with him it so bad? To tell your boss about your ex-boyfriend? About an abortion that didn’t invoke him?

“He… didn’t take it really well…” Your body acted on its own, and you had to pull yourself a bit back to stop your mouth from spilling out more words.

“Oh? He didn’t?” Sunday’s face finally became a bit more serious as he heard your answer.

And your body immediately breathed in, ready to speak on its own again, but then your mind, still a bit conscious and feeling very endangered, used its instincts to snap you out of it before you could say a syllable.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Oak!” You pulled yourself away from him again, putting a hand in your forehead as if you were trying to get a grip of yourself. “I-I’m not feeling very well…” Just as you said those words, you felt that heavy aura around you, weighing on your wellness, dissipate in a blink.

“Are you ill, dear? I can give you a few extra days off if you need it.” He skipped one step closer to you, trying to bring back the closure you two just had before your repulse.

“I-I… I’m not sure…” You turned your body to the front, as if you were ready to stand up and go grab some medication in your bathroom, but at the same time you didn’t feel desperate anymore to go after it, so you simply kept yourself sat awkwardly.

That weird sensation was really gone. In a blink, it was entirely gone. What the fuck was that?

“I-I’m sorry… I just suddenly felt really weird but it’s gone now, I don’t know why—” After breathing in and out to recompose yourself, you turned back to Sunday, still holding your own forehead.

“No need to worry, dear. If you feel unwell, I’ll take care of you.” Sunday skipped one step closer again, packing his hand on top of yours in your leg to conforto you physically.

“T-Thank you…” You relaxed your body at his gentle touch, letting your neck fall down even more.

“But… is Aventurine troubling you in any way, dear? You got me a bit worried.” He leaned in a bit closer to you with a assuring grin in his face, trying to regain your focus to him.

And he successfully did manage to make you look back at those irresistible amber doe eyes of his, feeling a bit of pity for his innocence.

“Not really…” Now that you had already begun talking about it, there was not a lot of reason to go back anymore, especially seeing how curious and worried he actually was with you…

“What do you mean ‘Not really’? This is a ‘Yes or No’ question, dear.” His thumb brushed your shoulders still trying to keep you connected with him, a bit more worried about your safety now.

“He’s just been annoying me with a few calls here and there, it’s not that serious…” Sunday’s eyebrows rose hearing that statement, his grin dying a bit.

“Why? Did you two break up?” He seemed a bit too interested in the topic.

“Well… yes. We broke up.” You tried to hold the truth back, but it wasn’t something you could really cover up anyway, so you just gave up and spilled it out, taking another sip of your tea too.

“Oh… I’m very sorry to hear that, dear.” He decided to take his hand off yours out of respect and concern for your feelings.

“No, it’s ok… It just… feels weird, you know? He’s the sole survivor of a whole genocide and I just… casually killed the next generation of his blood.” You ironized the situation for the sake of coping. “And even if he wasn’t a survivor of a genocide, it still feels horrible, you know?” You sighed in distress, letting all your accumulated thoughts out.

“So he’s grieving the baby?” Sunday asked curiously.

“Yeah… I found him crying outside the hospital when he visited me after the surgery…” You paused, waiting for Sunday to say anything, but he remained as silent as a wall. “He keeps trying to tell me it’s just a temporary feeling and that he was just scared about us, but… I don’t really believe that.” For some reason, Sunday chuckled very quietly upon hearing those words, but you could still catch it a bit.

“I understand…” He looked away for a moment to process what you said. “I believe your theory, Y/N. Seems like he’s grieving both the end of your relationship and the baby.”

“Thank you, Mr. Oa— I mean, Sunday!” You suddenly realized you’ve spent the last few minutes calling him in the wrong manner again, but Sunday didn’t correct you one. “God, I’m so sorry!” You put your hands in your face and covered it again.

“It’s ok, dear. For now, it doesn’t matter. This moment is about you.” Surprisingly, right after he said that, something started buzzing behind you, and the both of you noticed it.

You looked behind you to see what was buzzing, only to meet your phone sitting in the sofa’s fat arms with an unknown number titling it.

Ok… Now this is very likely to be Aventurine.

You’d been ignoring him for quite a while now, and the more you do, the more bothered he’ll become with your wellness and the more he’ll annoy with these hundreds of numbers he buys just to call you.

And now that Sunday was a bit involved in the moment too, unfortunately, it’d be better to answer him than not to, or else Sunday could become a witness of Aventurine’s craziness.

“Uhhh…” You awkwardly picked your phone and stared at it for a few seconds, preparing yourself to the moment about to come. “Mind if I answer this real quick?” You decided to be a bit more useful and collected your empty tea cup, offering a hand so you could get his cup too.

“Go ahead, dear.” Sunday piled his cup on top of yours, letting you go right after.

You quickly walked away from the living room so you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to answer the call, and also to avoid letting the cups fall from your hands.

You placed them on the kitchen counter, wanting to check on the call first before cleaning them. So with a click on the big green button displayed in the screen, you put the phone against your right ear.

“Hello?” You said neutrally, but already with low expectations.

“Y/N?” The recognizable voice of Aventurine spoke, sighting afterwards in relief. “Y/N!” He said a bit more desperate, euphorically happy.

“Aventurine, you have to stop this.” You spoke firmly, trying to convince him with aggressiveness.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! Please, don’t turn me off!” He screamed, thinking you were already about to click the red button.

“I already told you, I don’t want to talk to you.” You kept your firmness, but you lowed your tone down so Sunday wouldn’t listen ti you from the living room.

“But, Y/N, you never even gave me a single chance to talk to you!” He sighed in distress, all his excitement seemingly dying.

“Because I don’t want to deal with this bullshit right now! I just got out of the hospital and you expect my whole life come back to normal?! I’m sick, I’m tired and I feel disgusted at myself! I just want a few days off to breathe without you or anyone else bothering me! Is it too much to ask?!” You had to force yourself to whisper so your anger wouldn’t come out as a scream for Sunday to listen.

“I-It’s just a conversation! I don’t want anything else but to see your beautiful face and listen to your beautiful voice, baby…” He desperately tried to defend himself while trying to be goofy with you to calm you down. “N-No need for an immediate answer or kisses and cuddles! Just you and me checking up on each other!” He laughed afterwards, trying to cool himself off.

“If it’s just a conversation, why can’t you wait for it too?!” You used your other hand to grip in your scalp and press multiple strands of hair.

“I waited, Y/N! That’s the thing. I’ve been waiting all these weeks to talk to you but all you’ve been doing is giving me the cold and I’m hella worried! I’m coming to your apartment right now, please let me in.” Your eyes widened at that last statement.

“W-What..?! No, Aventurine! You can’t come here! Turn back and go home right now! I have a visit here!” You placed your palm in your forehead, anxiety growing about Aventurine possibly making a scene in front of Sunday.

“A visit? Who the heck is visiting you right now?” He sounded way more serious while he asked that question.

“A-A colleague of my work…” You tried your best to lie with confidence.

Knowing how obsessed Aventurine was acting right now, saying something vague like ‘It’s none of your business’ would freak him out. This answer would still freak him out, but much less.

“A colleague? What colleague?” As expected, he sounded a bit mad upon hearing that, but before you could say anything, he kept talking. “You know what, I’ll just park outside, wait for them to leave, and then I’ll come in and we’ll talk, ok? It’s that simple!” He wheezed a bit after talking again, in pure nervousness.

You sighed loudly and stopped to think for a moment.

Well, if Sunday was about to leave soon, there’s nothing else in your agenda today, and he really just wanted to talk… there couldn’t be a lot of danger in this, could there be? Especially knowing how this ‘just-a-conversation’ is probably going to shatter his heart and make him leave you alone for at least a moment…

You sighed again, but way more shortly.

“… Fine.” But in the other line you could hear him immediately sighing out of relief.

“Thank you so much, Y/N!” He laughed in relief, sounding very passionate. “God, I love you… I love you, I love you, I love you… I miss you so much… I can’t wait to see yo—” He kept bombing you with love and care, but you didn’t want to listen to it anymore, so you turned the call off and threw the phone in the counter right on his face.

Now you needed to find a way to wrap your talk with Sunday up so he could leave as soon as possible.

For now, all you had to do was wash some dishes.

And, now that you had both hands free, you grabbed each cup and placed them on the bottom of your sink, turning it on right after so you could start watering them. After quickly rubbing your sponge, which was already full of soap, on the cups, outside and inside, you turned the sink off and grabbed the cloth hanging in your stove’s handle to dry your hands.

You walked quickly back to the living room, not wanting to ignore his presence in your house any longer.

“S-Sorry for taking too long…” You sat down in the same spot you were sitting previously.

“It’s ok. Who was it?” He asked, referring to your call.

“Oh… just my mom.” You lied again, but thankfully it came put smoothly.

“I see… You sounded a bit distressed, though.” But Sunday still seemed a bit suspicious somehow…

“Well, my whole life is distressed now, so…” Before you could finish yourself, Sunday sighed very loudly, shutting you up.

“I think you need a few extra days off, dear.” Sunday argued, his grin turning a bit disappointed.

“Huh? Me? Oh, no, no, no, no! I can totally go back to work, Mr. Oak! I’m ok! This is nothing!” You scratched the back of your neck as you laughed at his unexpected reaction nervously.

Had he really fallen for your lie? Even if he did, you didn’t want to waste any more days resting for no good reason. You were afraid that beautiful, well-paying job of yours would be lost by whoever is substituting you for now.

“Nothing? You seem to still be a bit sick, your mom isn’t being helpful and supporting of your decision and your ex-boyfriend is disturbing your peace. I’m not quite convinced. Do you really think you don’t need any more days off?” Sunday challenged you as if for some reason he wanted you to take extra days off desperately.

And that made your eyebrows frown in suspicion. His whole behavior at this moment was being a massive signal to you that your job is highly endangered… or maybe… you already lost it.

“Am I… fired, Mr. Oak?” You asked reluctantly, your heart accelerating.

“Fired?” But for some reason that made Sunday quit his serious manner and laugh for a moment. “Of course not, dear! I could never dismiss a secretary as talented as you…” He rose a hand again and decided to rest it in your cheek to caress it with his thumb, trying to calm you down. “I just don’t want to overwork you even more during such tough times. It would worse for your mental health to add in work to deal with in between all those problems, don’t you think? Especially because we both know I’m not an easy boss… But I want to be easy with you today, Y/N. That’s why I’m here.” Sunday’s face leaned in closer to yours, foreheads almost touching, which made you even more nervous. “You’re unwell. So unwell you’ve even lost track of time today. That worried me a lot today, y’know? So I came here. To check on you and most importantly… take care of you.” Before you could even process all his words, you felt Sunday’s hand move down to your chin, his fingers hooking it gently.

“W… Wha—?” And much less, before you could respond him, Sunday shut you and him up, crashing his lips on yours so hard it made your brain turn off for a moment.

Art Credits (This account is heaven)

⚠️ = The moment ahead will NOT have Sunday’s harmony powers influence. After all, the fun in manipulating people is testing how little power you need to do so, isn’t it?

…

…

…

?!?!

W-What?! What is he doing?! He can’t do that to you!

“W-Wait! Mr. Oa—” Despite your peaceful protests, trying to pull yourself away from him, Sunday didn’t feel like stopping at all and only kept sucking your soul out of your body with that kiss.

But he thankfully stopped right before you could protest again to not scare you, staring deep down at your face with clear lust in his eyes and the smirk in his lips.

“I admire you, Y/N. I really, truly do.” He whispered softly, his passionate words trying to calm you down, but it only made you freeze in the spot. “You deserve so much compensation for all the extra hours I’ve made you work in the past… I owe you a big discount.” His actions were so light and gentle you didn’t even realize he was slowly pushing you down the sofa, only noticing it when you had already been pinned down on it. “Let me take care of you.” He leaned his face down between your head and head to whisper right in your ear before plunging his mouth on your neck it, biting its muscles.

You couldn’t hold back the moan he ripped out of you with that sudden bite, and that made you finally unfreeze and surprisingly start to panic.

“M-Mister!” You called him out, which only made him grunt deep in the back of his throat as a response, almost making him go madder than he already was with that cute nickname.

His tongue flattened in your skin, licking its way down to your shoulder instead, wanting to give it a bit of equal attention too.

“Forget everything, Y/N… Just focus on me and only me now.” His angelic voice echoed seductively in your ear, unconsciously convincing you to surrender to his initiative even more, spreading your legs so he could fit in between them better and tower over you completely, hands resting by the sides of your head.

His mouth deepened in your skin, covering a bigger area than before. He kissed and sucked your shoulder not very delicately, contrasting his usual elegant manor he usually had with you and everyone he knew. But, when he suddenly found your weakest spot on his pathway to your neck again, h nothing would push him out of there, sucking you like a starving leech.

After almost a minute claiming that area of you, he popped his wet lips out of your skin, admiring the view of the red mark he left behind for a quick moment, his fervor and lust for you rising, before going to the next step of his plan.

He decided to take your lips into a kiss with kiss again, beginning a sloppy, but passionate, kiss. And while he did that, a hand of his left the sofa and moved down to your body, his fingers starting to linger in the ends of your shirt, physically asking you if he could slide them under it. You arched your back as a way to demonstrate acceptance, and it made Sunday chuckle between the warm kiss you shared, but he obviously kept going on what he was doing immediately, his gloved fingers spreading away from each other as he started to move up.

Instead of immediately attending your wishes, Sunday decided to torture you by leaving you in the edge and started taking his time to feel every bit of your bare chest. First he started to caress your fluffy belly, appreciating its smoothness, then he circled your bellybutton and even thrusted it once just to feel it whole, then he took his time to go down every curve of your ribcage, and lastly, he moved his hand down to trace down the curves of your hips and hold them, previewing how would it be to hold it later on.

And once his exploration was done, he finally moved up and groped your breast once, letting his hand rest there peacefully while he waited for your consent. It made you gasp a moan another time, making you slightly panic again.

This is wrong. Really wrong. You are his secretary and he is your boss. Evolving your relationship with him would be nepotism, and just morally wrong. You should’ve never allowed him to fail in love with you, or even kiss you in the first place.

“S-Stop!” You broke the kiss abruptly, smashing your own hand on top of his, despite your shirt being between you two, but successfully caging him from moving further. “W-We can’t!” You turned your face away and tried closing your legs together again, but you couldn’t get him out of your way.

“What do you mean, darling?” Sunday’s warm breath and nose were brushing your cheek, refusing to stop the intimate contact. Another signal of his arousal.

“A-Aren’t you bothered with the fact that you’re my boss and I’m your secretary..?!” You heard Sunday chuckle after you said that, mouth beginning to kiss your cheek in appreciation.

“So cute…” That was his initial reaction, smirk growing lewder in his face. “I think it only adds to our professional relationship, don’t you think? You need to know so much about me…. why not learn a bit more?” His seduction was almost irresistible to you, your head slightly turning off for a moment. “Maybe we can start learning about how much I want to touch you right now…” He whispered directly in your ear again, making your cunt ache from need.

His logic didn’t make sense at all. But maybe this whole moment didn’t make sense either. Maybe your entire relationship with Sunday didn’t make sense to begin with. With his initiative, a fire inside you was beginning to light up for him. You were beginning to lust for him the same way he once begun too to be doing all of this. For all the moments he’s been overly kind and considerate with you, all the times he took you to fancy high-rank parties and presented you as a statue of gold, all the silly and serious conversations you’ve had with him in your phone and all the respect he’s shown for you.

It makes sense why would Sunday do all of that for you. He likes you. He wants more with you.

And be kind to yourself. It’s been months since you’ve last been with a man. Intimately or not. Your male coworkers didn’t know about your abortion, so they obviously didn’t bother looking for you, your boss was busy with work and couldn’t find many breaks to take advantage of, and your boyfriend has been making you feel even worse about this situation. You were needy. Needy for a lot. Comfort, love, pleasure, support…

And Sunday been giving this to you all this time. He’s trying to do it again now, actually.

Despite him unfortunately being your boss, one that sometimes made you exhausted too, he was technically the only one who cared about you enough to pay you an unrequested visit, and serve you with what your body craved. Actually, he’s been paying close attention to you ever since you’ve talked to him about your pregnancy.

He’s always been there.

And his touch on your body was so precise and mind-breaking. You couldn’t resist it. His gloved hands felt like feathers tickling your skin, massaging your breasts with so much care. A care you don’t even remember feeling with Aventurine.

“P-Please…” You pathetically surrendered, taking your hand away from his and placing it on top of your mouth instead to contain your embarrassment.

And Sunday just chuckled under his throat, finally unpausing his hand on your breast. The first thing he did was to pinch your nipple, making you flinch and squeak. Seeing your cute reaction, he made it a rhythm, and would repeat that move again and again after some brief moments to stimulate you. It didn’t even hurt you. All the pain and need was going to your cunt, who was wetting itself from the constant edging.

It was a mere massage in one of your breasts, but it felt euphoric to you. Your body was easily warming up and melting under him, facilitating his moves in you. You’d been successfully seduced and you wanted more of it. You wanted both his hands to be working on you, and then you wanted to move down to your aching pussy bad. But before working on it, you wanted him to take off his clothes and reveal his body. You wanted to see if he was as warm and sweaty as you. See if he wants you as bad as you want him.

Sunday unexpectedly moved his mouth back to yours and immediately proceeded to invade it wit his tongue. Despite your desperation for something more savage and immediate, Sunday kept it slow, gentle and passionate, as if he was choosing to throw all the control he owned of your body and mind away.

The worst part is that you knew his eyes were open, and they were staring at you nonstop. Your moaning face, with embarrassing red cheeks that demonstrated just how overwhelmed you already were. He was watching its every twitch. Meanwhile, your eyes were closed shut from the overstimulation and satisfaction, blinding yourself from his calm expression, unbalancing the power dynamics between you two even more.

In the back of your head, deep down, it perfectly reminded you of how Aventurine first found and fucked you. All exhausted, vulnerable and starved…

“Shhhh…” Sunday hushed you upon listening to your many squeaks and little noises of pleasure all because of his touch.

But he immediately moved on from your breasts as soon as he said that, leaning his body upwards and gathering both his hands to start taking his gloves off. He proceeded to place his hand exactly where it was before taking it off, giving it one last squeeze to your boobs before finally sliding it downward, fingers hanging in the edge of your pants in the end.

“Let me give you what you deserve, Y/N.” He waited for your consent patiently with a lusty smirk that signaled you that he was a bit impatient as he mired down at you from above.

You wanted it even more now with his teasing touch at your pants. And you could clearly see Sunday wanted it even more too.

But your brain just wouldn’t stop knocking in your head, telling you that you shouldn’t engage anymore, and you decided to stop and listen to yourself for a moment.

That was what got you pregnant, meaning that’s what brought you to do an abortion. You just got out of a surgery to do that. Do you really want to risk having sex now? It’s been barely a month. And what if you possibly got pregnant again? You would have to interrupt it again. Not only that but you don’t want you and Sunday to end like you and Aventurine, do you? Especially considering the fact that he’s your boss. How much privilege would you lose if such a dark hypothetical scenario happened? Would he leave you behind? Fire you? Ghost you? Is he secretly a one-night guy and is not making it clear to you right now?

You can’t have sex. Not now. Not for now.

“N-No!” Your body suddenly got very instinctual and forced you to sit up again while you screamed your protest.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Sunday immediately removed his fingers from your pants, backing away a bit to give you space.

“I-I don’t want to… do it… I can’t…” You breathed in and out, recovering from all the teasing he’d done to you yet. “I-I just got out of surgery… I don’t want to risk having to do another one again…” Instead of ripping a serious reaction out of Sunday towards your protest, he simply chuckled.

“Oh, silly, silly, Y/N…” He’d use this quote every time you’d make a silly mistake at work, and you didn’t understand where was the silliness of this moment for him to say it now. “Who said I’m going to use that? I don’t need to use that to make you have a good time.” He leaned his body closer to yours, delivering a quick kiss your nose. “Allow me to demonstrate, dear.” You felt Sunday’s right hand reach the edge of your pants again.

“W-Wait, then, what are you going to—” Before you could get more information, Sunday quickly fit his whole hand under your pants, right on top of your crotch, and ran a finger from the clothed bottom of your cunt to the tip of your clit. “A-Ah!” Your whole body shivered feeling the goosebumps from that tickle, weakening under his grip.

“Oohhh…” Sunday cooed in appreciation of your immediate reaction, grinding his fingers against your clothed hole to possibly get more of that kind of reaction of you. “You see, Y/N? I can give you a wonderful time and I can do it safely. All I need is your cooperation…” Sunday approached his head to your ear and whispered such teasing words on it to break you again. “So lay down for me again, dear.”

“S-Sunday!” Your body was tickling in sexual agony as he gently helped you push yourself down at the sofa, wanting your panties ripped apart immediately so he could touch your organ directly and stop leaving you at the edge of pleasure.

And Sunday thankfully seemed to understand you weren’t really enjoying the edging torture, so he quickly fit his fingers under your underwear and begun repeating those same movements of running his middle finger up and down upon your whole flesh, but now without the wooly barrier in between you two. Sunday even hummed under his throat in appreciation of your puffy, swollen lips, starving to savor them.

“Just enjoy.” His voice echoed in the back of your head, making your body weaken under him more than it already was.

The only part of your body that you moved was your hips, who were desperately attempting to get more friction between his fingers and your cunt, and Sunday didn’t fight it back at all. He allowed you to pleasure yourself as you pleased, he might even be enjoying it.

“You want me to put my fingers in, hum?” He talked dirty to you, the tip of two fingers going inside you in a way that made you throw your head back in desperation for him to thrust it all at once.

“Y-Yes! Yes, please!” Sunday’s grin grew in a creepy way, but you were quickly numbed out of your suspected thoughts when Sunday thrusted two whole fingers into you.

You squeaked in a bit of shock with his sudden initiative, and how dedicated it was, massaging your moistened flesh so carefully, waiting for your body to get used to him before beginning the actual process of fucking.

“That’s it… Just focus on me, dear.” He smooched your forehead passionately as he watched you struggle with the shock and proceeded to let them stick together as he stared down at you. “Nothing else but me.” Your eyes immediately started looking up at his when he said that, completely hypnotized by their shiny amber color.

Seeing your obedience, Sunday’s fingers started to move slowly, going in and out of you tortuously and making sure to punch that sensitive spot of yours he just found out in his trips. It was making you squirm with every thrust, your body relaxing in satisfaction of having something inside your pussy again and moving in a way that was meant for you. It felt even better now that you felt so insecure with everything in your life now, yourself and your relationships… but Sunday’s will to fuck you even with all these negative traits following you made you want to open yourself for him even more.

It all makes so much sense now. Sunday’s closure to you wasn’t normal, much less this. He was so distant and indifferent to his other workers. What would you out of all of them make any more special to him? It should’ve been obvious he liked you more than as a secretary. And it should’ve been obvious to you this whole time you were okay with it.

“You like this, Y/N?” And now you felt so horrible to have him trying to make you feel so good after so many months of you neglecting him, especially when he is currently neglecting his own erection just to focus on you.

You nodded, embarrassed of your own body making so many lewd mushy noises and so nervous at the sight of his cock so visibly hardened under his pants that it awakened your remaining consciousness again about this whole mess.

“S-Sunday… We shouldn’t..! Someone’s coming and I have to—” And somehow you managed to find strength to voice your protest.

“Get ready? But I’m helping you get ready. You can’t have visits when you look so tired and sick like this, can you?” He knew you couldn’t answer him due to the bliss he was making you feel, giving him the victory in that little argument. “I’ll be done soon, Y/N, I promise. No need to worry.” He kissed your cheek lightly and rose his body again, increasing the speed and depth of his fingers.

But it’s pathetic. It truly is.

Look at you, letting another man finger you like a toy while Aventurine, your dedicated ex-boyfriend is currently on his way to visit you. You know him. He’ll definitely come with a huge gift in his hands and shower you with so much love and affection… and you’re gonna have to pretend you weren’t just letting another man do that for him.

And that thought still managed to turn you on somehow. Maybe, if he saw what you were doing with Sunday, Aventurine would assume you’ve moved on and decide follow your steps, finally giving up in getting together with you again. Both you and Aventurine would finally find peace again if that happened. Isn’t that beautiful? The ends justify the means. Your body simply arched even more for him with your hypothetical imaginations, pleasing yourself with your own intelligence, worming in desperation for more of Sunday’s praises and touch.

All the liquids moistening you were thanks to only his fingers. Just his fingers alone.

“Such a beautiful, obedient woman… I love that about you.” He smirked towards the pornographic view he had of you under him, his cock twitching under his undergarments for any minimum attention at all, but being so painfully neglected.

You were so shy now that you were aware of what you were doing to poor Aventurine, turning your face aside and using your free arms to block the view he had of you. But that immediately triggered Sunday.

“No, no… Let me appreciate the view, dear…” He paused the movement of his fingers inside your velvety walls and pushed his thumb against your clit to edge you in punishment while his other arm gently tapped your elbows, trying to ask you to remove them educatedly. “Please, let me look at you, dear. You look absolutely stunning.” Sunday now grabbed your whole arm, seeing your reluctancy, and started pulling it away from your face.

You were unsure, so unsure and lost, but your body still decided to comply to him from the lack of choice, and let him see your face again.

“Beautiful.” It was the first thing he said to you as soon as your fucked face was visible to him again, making you a bit more comfortable with the moment as his creepy smile gained life again from above.

And unexpectedly, he decided to double down on the visibility and suddenly pulled your shirt upward, forcing your breasts to come out of their shell.

“A-Ah! W-Wait..!” You tried pushing your shirt down again, but his hand was holding it as if his life depended on it.

“Oh, Y/N… You’re a work of art.” Sunday grinned at the view, cock leaking cum on his underwear while his other hand gently fondled your right boob for fun and hunger. “I wanna see you whole.” He stated with a hoarse before suddenly removing his hand from your insides, making you whimper from the incomplete satisfaction.

But before you could complain more, he used both his hands to grab both sides of your pants and pull them down until they were on your knees, not wanting to waste much time taking them off for no reason.

Sunday’s cranial wings shivered at the sight of your naked too body, especially your pussy, all swollen and dripping wet because of him. He would never tell you such a disgusting detail, but his cock pre-came even more at that sight, wetting a bigger spot in his underwear, all that just from the excitement he felt seeing you naked, the excitement you gave him.

“Oh, Xipe… I must repent in advance…” And it obviously didn’t take more than five seconds of staring until Sunday’s middle and ring finger were shoved inside you again carelessly, making you throw your head back in surprise and lust.

Sunday was entirely hypnotized by you, eyes locked where they were, mouth almost drooling from hunger, dick twitching to be inside you… Nothing would stop him from staring at that Greek statue that was your body.

Sunday was honestly thinking deep down in his head that Aventurine could go fuck himself at this very moment. He could straight up break your front door using his hands and Sunday still wouldn’t stop fingering your hole. He could whimper all he wanted for you and he wouldn’t get it.

What? Did you really think Sunday didn’t hear your call from the kitchen? Why do you think felt so dizzy out of nowhere? Because of your surgery? Pfffttt…

This is going to be fun for Sunday. Very fun.

He really wanted this moment to be a greater moment for you, but deep down, he knew he had the most advantage in this moment and even most pleasure. Giving you pleasure like that while putting himself in the edge was more fun than he expected it to be.

Sunday’s fingers suddenly started thrusting you more aggressively now, trying to ruin you for his entertainment. Your thighs and underwear were glistened with your liquids, and soon your sofa was going to be a victim of it too.

“Wanna make you cum… Wanna make you squirt… Wanna make you feel everything…” Sunday spoke his prophecy hoarsely, body leaning down once again so his lips could reach yours again.

As he kissed you, way more savagely this time, his fingers started to solely focus on one specific spot of your walks and punching it every thrust, desperately trying to make you squirt. Shaking and rearranging your insides like that would soon force your liquids to come out of you to escape the madness going on at your abused pussy.

“S-Sunday..! T-Too much!” You screamed out his name a few moments before your body finally started to pop a few drops of your own liquids, taking Sunday’s attention away from you to watch your orgasm.

You looked so beautiful dirtying yourself up like that while your throat couldn’t even find a noise to emit from so much overstimulation taking your senses over. The more Sunday felt you spill out your juices, the more excited he felt to see it. So he abruptly pulled out of the kiss and locked his eyes towards your pussy, refusing to stop making your squirt until he had you soaked.

“Shhhhh… Don’t worry… I’ll clean it up after I’m done.” Sunday used his other hand to wipe a bit of your essence dripping from your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth and immediately starting to taste it.

You would never expect someone like Sunday to be so kinky as he was acting right now. Not that it bothered you, but the image he poses everywhere gave such a contrary idea of him that watching him act like that now was disturbing. It even creeped you out a bit. He was supposed to be a pure, elegant man, who fantasizes with nothing but making the world a better place for everyone and works on it daily like an angel. From a small insect to a God… he wanted euphoria for all.

Actually, never mind. It make sense why such an ideological man like him would find pleasure in giving other people sexual pleasure, but not as twisted and maniacal as he was right now in your logic. Maybe that’s what happens when you allow religion to play such a big role in your life.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you? I can feel you tightening up… And here I thought you couldn’t get any better…” He grinned lustily, eyes shining with ecstasy while his fingers becoming greedier inside you. “Let’s cum together, Y/N…” His hand now moved down to his crotch again, jumping against it in search for that orgasm, despite it being still all guarded by his clothes.

Your body contorted more with the closure, and the way Sunday tortured you made it worse. You felt dizzy with the pleasure, and his distorted intentions only made you dizzier.

For how long has Sunday wanted this? This sort of reaction isn’t normal to your standards. Aventurine used to approach you so easily, acting flirty but very gentle, only to give you a common, but satisfying, night of love.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about another man right now while Sunday is working so hard to give you a mind-breaking orgasm. Maybe you needed something a bit more brutal and savage instead of Aventurine’s common love-making. You need to get him out of your head for now.

Even if he’s coming to your house right now, he told you he’d wait for your permission to go at your door, didn’t he? You really hoped that’s true because you’re seriously about to—

Finally, your womb snapped and begun to collapse your orgasm all down on Sunday’s fingers, making his finger a mess of both clear drops and thick lines of fresh white cum. Sunday didn’t even stop fingering you initially, although he could clearly hear your screams and your entire orgasm face. But when he finally started to feel your very essence start to drip in his fingers and cream him, he finally stopped and started scissoring you instead, trying to get your every drop of your cum around his moistened fingers. Meanwhile, the hand in his crotch trying to hold it more firmly, his dick twitching from the organ he also reached

The entire time you were orgasming, that creepy grin of his wasn’t slightly washed away. If anything, it actually grew in pure admiration of you.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Sunday kept cupping his own erection under his pants and cuddling it lightly, grinding it against his fist to satisfy himself just a little bit to relieve the pressure in his shoulders to help himself down there. “I can’t believe I managed to cum with you like this…”

When you finally stopped squirming in ecstasy, Sunday removed himself from you, immediately shoving those same fingers in his mouth and starting to lick like a starved dog. He loudly groaned as soon as him got to taste your cum for the first time, closing his eyes and cuddling his erection a bit faster and rougher as he did that.

“Oh, Y/N… You taste so sweet…” He cooed after swallowing your honey for the first time. “Promise me you’ll never stop working for the Family… Promise me you’ll always be my secretary… Even if I make bad decisions… Even if I do something that you hate… I want you to be there for me. Always. I’ll give you everything that you want…” Sunday leaned close to you, delivering quick smooches to your lips and cheeks as he confessed his deepest and honestest feelings to you. “From the bottom of my heart, Y/N… I lo—” Sunday wings suddenly twitched, and both his eyes widened, as if he’d noticed something.

Sunday lifted his head and quickly looked around, but while he did that, the front door of your home seemed to attract him the most, his head freezing in its direction. He stared it for a couple seconds, extremely quiet, until he suddenly wheezed.

“Come here, dear… I’m still far from being done with you.” Sunday’s hands suddenly hooked your hips and pulled your body upwards, forcing your sweaty back to unglue to the sofa, a fresh wave of cold air hitting you.

You weren’t expecting him to stand up from the sofa with you attatched to his chest and walk you around your house.

“W-What are you—” Sunday pinned you against that same door he stared at before you could ask what he had in his mind, a loud bang echoing in your home.

“Turn around, dear.” He whispered softly in our ear, seducing you into obeying him immediately as he dropped your hips and forced you to stand up.

“B-But, m-mister, I-I just came, w-we can’t keep doing—” You turned your body sideways and tried to cross your arms to make yourself less accessible to him.

You were foggy, sweaty and so overstimulated that you didn’t mind how Sunday decided to ignore your plea and simply take advantage of your pose to push your shoulder to the door, forcing you to position yourself for him. And soon enough, before you could protest again,you were shut up by his fingers thrusting into you once again, sending your mind to the clouds.

Your scream in reaction was loud, and you immediately regretted it.

“S-Sunday! I have neighbors!” You said between many moans of exhaustion and pleasure, using a hand to cover your mouth.

“No need to worry about them, dear. These solid walls are enough to cage every cute moan of yours inside this apartment.” Sunday’s other hand reached your face from behind, pushed your own hand away from your mouth and held your chin forced open to make sure those moans were coming out. “Just focus on letting aaaaallll that stress out and screaming my name.” Sunday leaned close and kissed your cheek passionately, simply to stand back to his place and fully focus on thrusting your overstimulated hole with his fingers.

You were extremely sensible with the recent orgasm and all that pressure and anxiety he put you on by fucking you in a risky spot. Despite his efforts to get rid of your stress, his fingers were so rough and deep inside you that it felt he was using his dick instead, and you were stressed at how loud you were because of it.

It didn’t take too long for his animalistic thrusts to start having an effect on you. The effect he wanted you to have.

Every damn second you’ve spent after the cursed night that got you pregnant has been a stress. You started to feel very sick and fatigued, and the demand of your work didn’t help it. Then, you decided to accept reality and take a pregnancy test, only for it to mark as positive. Then all that mess of deciding what to do with the baby flooded your entire life. Your relationships with Aventurine and your family, your amount of work per week, the efforts and money necessary to do an abortion…

It’s all horrible.

You fucking killed a baby.

That was what you didn’t want to face yet. You decided to kill a baby growing inside you. An innocent baby who had done nothing but follow the cycle of life.

It was too much. Your heart was overflowing with all those months of unexpressed regret, guilt, anger and so much more. And unfortunately, your eyes were the first ones to start to spill it out through long threads of crystal tears.

“Oh, dear…” Sunday immediately leaned down again and started showering your neck and cheeks with more kisses. “Everything will be ok.” Sunday hushed you right in your ear, which was supposed to make you less teary, but it only seemed to worsen you.

Your eyes rolled back and your back unconsciously arched more for him, allowing him to have easier access to your hole, whom was already easy to access in the first place.

“You’re doing such a good job…” Sunday finally freed your jaw, allowing you to fully cry and moan on your own again while that same hand went down to your clit and pressed it with two fingers.

“S-Sunday! I-It’s too much! I can’t..! N-Not in my door..!” Your voice became hoarse and weak with his masturbation, making you barely unable to finish your petty begging.

“Of course you can, darling… You’re such a resilient woman, after all…” Sunday kept praising you right in your ear every share of seconds.

Beautiful, charming, resilient, careful, attentive, intelligent, incredible, talented, determined, responsible, mesmerizing m…

You couldn’t believe half of that praising. It did sound real because of his broken, harsh tone, but it all still felt so exaggerated. Or maybe he’s just been closeting all those words from you all this time.

“See? You’re doing so well for me… No need to overthink about anything else anymore, ok? Can you do that for me?” You were a bit weirded out by how Sunday was refusing to say anything in a loud, demanding tone anymore now and only kept whispering.

Perhaps he was scared he’d be too loud too and call the attention of your neighbors too, but you couldn’t do the same? How unfair…

“Y-Yes…” And you couldn’t help but surrender to the pleasure and let him play with you.

“Good girl.” Sunday kissed you one last time before his fingers went back to make a mess of you with his long fingers, who were thrusting you so hard hat it made you recoil against the door every time. And the nickname he decided to use with you didn’t make it any easier for you to keep yourself up, your walls tightening up around him even more.

It felt like he was going way more feral with you now that you were put in such position. The average speed of his fingers had increased, and the position made it easier for him to access you. His finger went in, scissoring and stretching your walls, then hit your g-spot and then went out, only to go in again and repeat that same process. And don’t forget that his other hand was circling your clit with no pauses throughout this rounds. It was vicious, addicting and truly overwhelming. You didn’t stand a chance against him in that moment. He had all control and power over you. And even if you did have a chance, you felt too good to want to take the opportunity.

It was true, Sunday was helping you unchain yourself and discount all that pent up stress. Even if it was at your door or him, it was still resulting positively to him.

“What a sinful woman you are underneath your facade…” But then you suddenly felt Sunday’s hand leave your clit alone and move up to your face again, his palm slapping your eyes shut.

You were now blind, seeing nothing but full black with a few bright spots between his fingers. Them you felt Sunday leaning in again, but not directly to you. He stopped halfway and didn’t do anything but to quietly wheeze after a few seconds.

“Perfect.” He said with no context, so you guessed he was talking about you.

You bowed your head down, feeling another burning sensation starting to spark in the back of your womb.

Even if your previous orgasm had just happened, looks like his overstimulation was truly destroying all your senses to make you cum so fast like this.

“You’re cumming again? I’ve barely even started, dear…” Sunday commented as soon as he felt your mushy walls almost crush his fingers entirely just like last time.

“S-Sorry…” You mumbled back to him with your trembling mouth.

“No need to apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Sunday’s face finally leaned close to yours again. “In fact, I want you to cum. Just focus on cooling off your head and moaning my name until you cum on my fingers, ok?” The way Sunday whispered his order right in the hole of your ear made you obey immediately.

You threw your head down, leaving it hanging in the air while more moans came out of your mouth.

“S-Sunday! M-Mister Sunday!” You touched your forehead against the door, moaning right against its wooden material, moistening it with your warm breath as Sunday giggled under his thirst at every moan of yours.

“Good girl.” Sunday altered his wet fingers between your hole and your clit, prizing you for your obedience.

For the next minute or two, all you did was do exactly as commanded: accepting all of Sunday’s efforts and helplessly moaning his name, even if all your pleas would be ignored. With the help of his fingers stimulating your clit, your orgasm built up and released itself very fast, your mind fogging intensely one last time for a very long moment. Your insides burned with ecstasy, back arching to an angle where it could break.

Sunday watched it all silently, and you wondered what his face looked like watching you. He probably had that same smirk he’s been putting on his face this entire time, looking down at you with pure satisfaction and lust.

And when you were finally done cumming on his fingers again, he repeated that same action of sucking on them after taking them off you. But, unlike last time, he decided to kneel down and begun hooking your cream-pied lips with his tongue, licking it all out of you until you were clean and swallowing it down his throat proudly. Although you still found it really creepy, also the fact that he still had a whole load of cum dirtying his underwear. But that’s the whole point of intimacy, isn’t it? Let your partner tell you about his erotic kinks and let yourself tell your partner about your kinks too.

Having Sunday reveal so much about his intimacy was somehow comforting to you. Maybe you could trust Sunday to be more than just your boss. A one-night stand guy wouldn’t care so much about you like this, would he?

With a final kiss at your wet lips, praising your pussy for its hard work, Sunday finally stood up again.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” You felt him lean down and support his face in your shoulder, a hand of his going to your belly and carefully holding it.

“Yes…” You whispered hoarsely.

“Yes what?” You sighed at that question, identifying his attempt at acting bossy with you even after sex.

Sunday was really that strict when it came to you referring to him appropriately. He’s still your one and only boss, after all. Now, it seemed he was accepting to be called in two ways, professionally and casually, so all you had to do was play along.

“Yes, sir…” You nodded your head while turning it back to stare at him. And as expected, he did still have that calm expression on his face as you predicted.

“Good woman.” Sunday simply pulled you away from the door and brought your legs to the air, beginning to carry around your house princess-style. “You’ve done an incredible job today. You deserve some good rest.” Fortunately, Sunday’s slightly weak arms didn’t have to do much effort to keep holding you since he simply dragged you back to your sofa and laid you down there.

“W-Wait… I shouldn’t rest now, I—” You tried lifting your body up again, but Sunday immediately locked your shoulders with his hands, pressing you down the sofa and approached his face to your right ear.

“Rest.”

.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

“Once upon a time, a cute Avgin baby started to grow in a lovely woman’s womb.” Aventurine’s whole body shivered in shock and immediately turned back to catch who suddenly started to speak. “Although the baby loved the experience of being raised inside such a warm home as that woman’s womb, the same couldn’t be said for the mother.” And Sunday simply kept walking closer towards his direction, Aventurine fisting his own hands in anger. “She felt sad, depressed and stressed with the pregnancy… not only her but the cute Halovian baby had its space to grow inside the woman too taken away by the Avgin baby.” And then he finally stopped when he was standing right beside him, staring at the moving streets in front of both men. “So she fucking aborted it for everyone’s benefit.” He broke his calm, passionate tone while he told his ‘story’.

Aventurine could only wheeze at Sunday’s ‘story’, which wasn’t really one at all. Just a stupid metaphor to represent the situation he found himself in at this moment.

“You can only fuck Y/N when she’s the most vulnerable she could be… Says a lot about you, doesn’t it?” Aventurine refused to turn his body to him, only his eyes. Those threatening shiny eyes staring at Sunday as if he wanted to see blood coming out of his face.

“Whatever it says about me, it doesn’t take away the fact that I did it and she wasn’t against it.” Sunday gently shrugged his shoulders, enjoying the power dynamics between them.

“Are you sure she wasn’t against it? Are you sure you didn’t use any of your Harmony powers on her and forced the consent out of her?” Sunday’s eyes widened at the accusation and Aventurine’s disrespect to not even turn to him and face him like a real man after spilling out such a dangerous lie.

“Are you accusing me of rape?” Sunday lightly chuckled at Aventurine’s lack of response, confirming his suspicions. “Just because she likes to be obedient and submissive during this kind of activity, it doesn’t mean I forced her to do it.”

“You haven’t even seen half of what she can do in bed, and yet, you act as if she’s in the palm of your hand to comfort yourself. How cute… but, unfortunately, now that I’m back to her life, you won’t be able to see much more of her anyway. So no need to pretend you’re on top. We both know you aren’t.” Aventurine finally turned to him, threatening him a bit more seriously.

“If you were truly back to her life, I don’t think you would’ve minded interrupting our little moment in the door, but you still decided to stand in the other of it like a pathetic abandoned dog while I watched your agony through the peephole.” Sunday finally decided to turn his whole body to him, making his message a bit harsher for Aventurine to absorb and fight back. “Just like you also were when Y/N finally aborted that baby out of her.” Sunday was happy to see Aventurine’s expression immediately darkening with that last sentence, but unfortunately, his fun was ruined by Aventurine turning to his direction and taking one step closer to him, something pointy beginning to rub right on top of his heart.

Sunday looked down curious, only to find a revolver pointed right against his heart with Aventurine’s index already ready to pull the trigger.

“If you don’t want to die right now, I’d recommend you to keep your mouth shut about that.” Aventurine let his smirk for that brief moment to threat Sunday.

“Why? Does it still hurt when you think about it? When you think about what could’ve been the future of the Avgin blood?” Sunday smiled sadistically, enjoying Aventurine’s decaying facade.

“Shut the fuck up. That is none of your business.” Aventurine pushed the gun a bit harder against Sunday’s chest, which only seemed to intrigue him.

“My, my… You really don’t like talking about it, do you?” Sunday giggled at him for a moment, taking enjoyment at his deadly silence. “Well then, you’re very lucky. We can still discuss another very important matter.” Sunday put both his hands behinds his back, posing elegantly to him.

“What could it possibly be, Mr. Oak?” Aventurine didn’t take him seriously at all.

“Give up.” Sunday killed off his own smile, becoming as serious as Aventurine.

“Hm?” Aventurine listened to what he said, but he couldn’t believe Sunday’s audacity in saying such a thing, so he challenged him.

“Give up on Y/N.” Sunday repeated himself a bit more clearly.

“What on Earth makes you think I would ever give up on Y/N?” Aventurine wheezed. “You are literally on the verge of death at this very moment.” Aventurine pressed the gun against his chest harder again, but Sunday remained unmoved.

“Are you sure?” Sunday tilted his head a bit, demonstrating his serenity.

Aventurine’s brain clicked with that question. He has been feeling it for a quite a while now, but he didn’t think it was actually what he thought it could be.

But now it was confirmed. Sunday didn’t freak out at the sight of the gun because he replaced himself with an illusion identical to him.

“Really? Using your Harmony powers to get away from a cheap revolver? How pitiful and coward of you…” Aventurine used his other hand to rest his palm against his forehead and laugh at Sunday’s escape route. “I guess you’ve learned your lesson in the casino at least…” Aventurine referred to his fight with Sunday in the casino where Sunday pathetically lost to him, playing with it as a joke.

But before Sunday could add anything to the conversation, Aventurine removed the gun from his chest, only to quickly point it at the side of his head and pull the trigger, not letting Sunday even process it, much less protest against it.

But luckily, only a single click noise came out of it, meaning it was a dry shot, which made Aventurine’s smirk increase uncontrollably, finding Sunday’s reaction funny. He almost expressed shock when Aventurine pulled the trigger, but he didn’t let himself express it any further to not please the gambler’s sadism again. And when he finally recognized that the gun was actually fully empty, and that he fell for the gambler’s bluff to be scared of the shot, his whole expression died.

“I really did teach you a good lesson, haven’t I?” Aventurine put the gun back at his back pocket, proceeding to cross his arms. “Not to be rude, but you’re not the best at bluffing. I know you haven’t actually fucked your dick inside Y/N. I could tell it were your fingers against that door.” Sunday’s face darkened even more in surprise, feeling a bit insulted at the his comment on his skills.

Is it that easy to identify when you’re using your fingers instead of your dick? Well, Aventurine was clearly way more experienced at this sort of activity compared to Sunday, so it makes sense that he could identify such a thing.

“You haven’t even touched half of those grounds, much less explore them. How do you expect me to feel threatened by you?” Aventurine crossed his arms, slightly inflating his lungs to appear more powerful than Sunday.

“Don’t you see it, gambler? It doesn’t matter whether I’ve been actually inside her or not. Your dominance is threatened. Your precious girlfriend lied to your face and took advantage of your trust for her so she could get masturbated and manhandled by her boss.” Sunday took a step closer to him. “It’s a shame you didn’t stay for the whole show… You would’ve also listened to me cooking dinner for her, washing her clothes and dishes, then placing her in her bed so I could clean her sofa from the mess we did. Where were you during that time? Oh, yeah, crying and whimpering in your car like a baby. Do you really think that won’t make her think about the two men in her catalogue? Think about how I’ve taken so much more care for her this whole time compared to you?” Sunday smiled the entire time while he made Aventurine reflect about what he said, forcing his smirk to weaken a bit. “You’ve lost power, gambler. And you are still losing it.” Sunday finalized his talk a bit more serious, pausing for a moment to see his expression of struggle. “Admit your defeat before it starts to hurt you more.” Aventurine closed his eyes for a moment to facepalm his face again, laughing at Sunday’s challenge.

“You know how it works, birdie, I don’t do bets where I’m not—” But as soon as he opened them again, he found nothing but your building and the streets in front of him, freezing everything to try processing what had happened. “Fucking coward…” Aventurine assumed he’d just dissipated the hologram, turning his eyes to the streets again.

.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuuuuckkk..!” You repeated yourself over and over again as you walked around your house in pure confusion and desperation.

What the fuck just happened?! What the fuck did you do?! You fucked with your boss?! Your boss?! Out of everyone you know?! Mr. Oak?! And what the fuck happened to your house?! The kitchen is entirely clean, the counter almost reflecting your image on it from how clear it was, and also two bags with groceries on top of it with your market list all crossed out in the fridge! Your sofa was entirely clean from the mess you did with Sunday on it and all your clothes were clean, dry and piled up on top of each other, just waiting to be put back at your drawers!

Did Sunday do all of this?!

Why?!?!

You anxiously picked up your phone, in search of Sunday’s contact despite still being so embarrassed from what you had just done with him, and opened your messenger app.

There were two unread notifications. One from Sunday himself and an unknown number, which you assumed was Aventurine.

…

…

OH MY GOD, AVENTURINE.

You immediately opened the unknown number’s chat with you, meeting a total of three missed calls from them.

Oh, you messed up. Now you have 100% messed up.

You didn’t only fuck with another man, but you did it right before meeting with him, fell asleep and missed the fucking meeting! That means you’ve left him waiting for… 2 hours!!!

But fortunately, as you read his messages, you’ve realized how luck decided to stay by your side this time.

Hey Y/N

Aventurine here

Unfortunately I had to cancel our little meeting…

The IPC surprisingly needs me more than I need you…

I’m just kidding

No one else needs something as much as I need you ❤️

Not even close

Are you free tomorrow?

I have all day for you ;)

Maybe I can take you to that fancy restaurant you love… then we go shopping… then we finally settle down to talk

Is that ok with you?

I’ll patiently wait for your answer, my princess

Love you ❤️

You giggled a bit.

What are the chances of the IPC actually being helpful to someone?!

Although you found it a bit weird how someone as unserious as Aventurine when it came to work to prioritize it rather than you. Especially because… he’d typically do the contrary. He’d leave the IPC behind to solely focus on your needs and attend them.

Well, it doesn’t matter. If he can’t come, he can’t come. He is a Stoneheart, so, maybe his lazy and procrastinating choices are finally having their consequences… You can only imagine how exhausted you’d be if you ever procrastinated Sunday’s demands.

I could meet you tomorrow at night

But you can still come here after you’re done with work if you want to

Maybe you can come at 8?

You even thought about answering his last message with “I love you too”, but it didn’t feel appropriate in the slightest. You two were broken up, you have slightly fallen out of love with him because of this whole abortion mess, and you had just fucked with your boss.

After waiting for a green dot to appear under his default profile picture for a while, only to be fully ghosted, you decided to move on and see what Sunday had sent you.

Hello, dear,

If you’re wondering why is your kitchen so clean and what are those bags in your counter, no need to worry. That was me. You were very sleepy after our moment, and I would never let a lady like you, especially after going through such a rough surgery, to be overwhelmed by so many house chores when you are supposed to come back to work tomorrow. I hope my assistance was helpful. There’s no need for you to worry about ‘paying me back’ too.

By the way, I am aware that what we did was very unusual and it might’ve scared you at first, and it might still be scaring you now, so I feel like I must assure you of the fact that this won’t affect your job at all. We’ll continue as boss and secretary as we’ve always been during the daylight.

If you are uncomfortable with what happened, either me or the act itself, please, always feel free to open up to me, whether it is to discuss it or to keep making progress. But I won’t demand you to give me an answer now.

Rest well, dear.

Have a good day.

Wow.

This text… doesn’t feel real.

Mita funny how both of them texted you at similar times… as if the world was starting to show you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into.

It feels like as if Sunday could read your mind.

You were starting to be concerned about your relationship with him indeed, even during the act itself, and neither did you want to give him an immediate answer. Although you typically hate taking advantage of the permissions or benefits that Sunday gives you, you decided to take this one and turn off your phone momentarily. This whole messy situation made your brain so busy and worried that it actually made you feel sick.

Your stomach felt a bit uneasy and your womb seemed to be contracting a little, giving you that good-old sensation of period cramps. So, you quickly rushed to the bathroom and opened your sink’s left drawer, where you kept all your medicine in, both normal ones and the ones prescribed for you after this surgery. You didn’t even bother getting a cup of water and just swallowed the little pill whole in a blink, a bitter taste spreading itself through your tongue and gums after it.

Fortunately, you were distracted from the taste of the pill due to your phone beeping again. And so, you picked it up again, the screen immediately turning on when it sensed your touch.

Surprisingly, it was your second ‘boss’, Robin Oak.

Hello, Y/N

Sunday told me you’re done with your surgery and that you got out of the hospital a few days ago. Is that true?

You immediately unlocked your phone to answer her, heading to Robin’s chat with you in your messenger app.

Yeah!

Finally home again ☺️

You decided to act extra sweet with Robin to not give her any unnecessary worries. She’s a worldwide pop-star. She already has too much trouble to deal with for you to bother her with yours, but knowing how kind Robin is… you doubted it would work. Sunday ordered you to not bother her with this trouble too anyway, so you had extra reasons to act soft with her.

That’s so good to hear!

I’ve been worried sick about you…

So much that I’ve praying for your wellness every night these past weeks.

You’ve always been so helpful to me and my brother… I should be helpful to you too.

Are you capable of leaving your home yet? Or are you still sick? We could hang out around Penacony this week and go shopping! 😊

Ms. Oak…

You’re too kind…

There’s no need to worry about me at all, I’m doing really well

We can hang out this week if you really want to, but if you plan in spoiling me with jewelry, I must stop you in advance…

But you must accept my gratitude!!!!!

Or did my brother m already spoil you?!?!?!

He told me he paid you a visit today!

Please don’t tell me he left me with nothing to do for you!!!!!!!

Well…

He just came by to talk a bit and help me with house chores.

Nothing serious.

Of course he did…

Ever since that episode in the casino he hasn’t stopped worrying about you once.

I’m not surprised he’s the first one to visit you.

…

Episode in the casino? What was she talking about?

What episode?

Oh.

You don’t know?

Well, Sunday has indeed been trying his best to keep this hidden from the public, but…

I’m surprised you don’t know about it…

Him and some guy from the IPC fought in his casino.

I don’t remember his name now but I’m pretty sure it was a Stoneheart…

…

…

…

What..?

What?

You typed back urgently.

For some reason it made a bit of sense.

The only Stoneheart resent in Penacony at this very moment was Aventurine under some orders of investigation.

Aventurine got you pregnant accidentally and Sunday has been acting overprotective of you ever since. Maybe Sunday went after him to discuss the topic, but… how would that lead to a fight? Both Sunday and Aventurine are diplomatic, and Aventurine in particular never had any sort of bad intentions with you to trigger Sunday.

But his overprotection of you… Was he upset about your pregnancy for some reason?

I don’t know a lot about it, but I know for a fact it happened.

What do you mean they fought?

Why would they ever fight?

I wish Sunday would tell me that too…

He could barely look me in the eye when I was confronting him about it…

I found it out through Penacony gossip pages in social media

I don’t think you’ll be able to find anything about it now because he’s targeting those posts too.

Any guesses?

You hated Ms. Robin’s unawareness. Even if she did know about your pregnancy, she didn’t know who’s the father is, much less that it was this father who Sunday fought with apparently…

I have no clue either.

I need to go now, Ms. Oak.

Home chores can’t do themselves alone, can they?

You smacked your phone back in the counter again facing downwards.

No, it can’t be true. It shouldn’t be making any sense.

It could be anyone who Sunday fought with. Who knows if the person he fought with is indeed from the IPC? Especially the Stonehearts? It’s just a rumor. It could’ve easily been altered to attract the eyes of the public.

Right..?

“Promise me you’ll never stop working for the Family… Promise me you’ll always be my secretary… Even if I make bad decisions… Even if I start doing something you hate… I want you to be there for me. Always. I’ll give you everything that you want…”

“From the bottom of my heart, Y/N… I lo—”

—ve you…

… That’s what he wanted to say, right..?

After everything he’s done to you now, it’s very clear that it was surely what he meant to say.

He loves you.

Sunday loves you.

Sunday Oak loves you.

And a man who loves a woman would surely be upset if she got pregnant by someone else, right? Maybe enough to take the matter in his own hands? Even if they’re not usually violent? A case as serious and heartbreaking as this could shake any man’s mind, wouldn’t it?

…

…

…

…

…

You should sleep.

This new information is still too vague and mysterious to you. You should stop overthinking about something you have no idea about.

You’ll need to do your own research before reaching your own conclusions. Whether it is talking to Robin, searching it up on social media or…

Talking to either Sunday or Aventurine.

Taglist: @mel-vaz @gaboplaydespacito @weirdcatkid @something-i-can-never-have @hana-no-seiiki @frootyanthem @ruikeremi @thegriffinbird @vortexbloom

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[revelboo]

God hi I know it SUPER isnt gonna happen like this obvs but I'm just imagining EIA Shockwave Staring at the Two Sparkbonds in the human and is like Quiet and somehow figures out the second is Megatron and he doesnt say SHIT and is just like "Uhhhh yeah. Human's fine. Soundwave, please stay back so we may talk" and Sounders just like "Mkay" and so Star and the human leave and stuff and Soundwave is like "Query: What is it that Shockwave wishes to tell me" and Shockwave is just like "Bestie idk how to say this but I think Lord Megatron is what the humans call a homewrecker." And Soundwave has to play. SO cool about everything.

🤣 Shockwave is just assuming the other bond is Soundwave’s and he just can’t understand the appeal- thinks they’re both deviants. I’ve started going back trying to add warnings to the first chapters of everything, so folks don’t get surprised if the run into my stories in the wilds of Tumblr

Psst psst @thegarageafterdark aka Storm is one of my writer buddies who convinced me to even consider Transformers smut back in the day and she’s started a Tumblr. She does fated mates Transformers stuff for Bayverse and G1

Everything Is Alright Pt 129

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Wincing as Shockwave just stares at you, you’re not about to admit the other bond is Megatron’s. Can’t imagine the Decepticon leader would want that to get out. And Soundwave rescues you by reaching out to run a servo affectionately against your cheek. Making Shockwave stare at him instead, antenna back. You’re pretty sure the scientist just thinks you’re all three a bunch of freaks at this point. If he realized Megatron was also involved, he’d probably literally blow a gasket. “If a spark was to form from a full bond-” Starscream begins and Shockwave growls.

• “Illogical,” Shockwave snarls, turning away with his scanner, studying the readings. Wings lifting in affront, Starscream growls back at the scientist. Not liking the other mech’s dismissive tone. “No sparks are possible with an organic,” Shockwave adds, tone almost angry. Like the very fact that he wanted to spark you is deviant. That he wants you is obscene. Tempting him to lash out at the bigger mech to defend you. Except you might get hurt if he does, worry for you chaining his temper. But it’s something he can’t forget or forgive even if they will need his skills eventually.

• Servo trembling where he’s got it against your cheek, Soundwave wants to take you from Starscream. Press his face against you to feel the beat of your heart, your warmth. Unable to really believe that he can have this without risking everything else he has. And the Seeker scowls at him when he gives in and cups his hands around you, lifting you close. “Little one.” Just needs to hold you, to ground himself in you, because he can repair that broken bond now without any guilt. Can really have everything.

• Gently pinned against his battle mask, you’re aware of the way Shockwave stiffens. Apparently not liking the display of affection. Or you. Pretty sure that he has some sort of issue with you in particular that you can’t figure out. Maybe he’s just xenophobic? And nobody has answered your ‘how long do Cybertronians live’ question which is beginning to worry you. There’s a niggling little worry in the back of your mind about that. Because you’d been in Star and Megatron’s memories and there’d been a lot to parse through, but no real concrete sense of time. Startling when Soundwave retracts his mask and brushes his mouth against your body, apparently not caring about Shockwave watching. Had he been really worried about how long humans live?

• Wings flicking as Soundwave rubs his face against you, venting softly, Starscream wants to be angry still about you and the communications officer. To resent that you love him, too. To ask who you love more even if he’s terrified of what your answer would be. Reminding himself that you’d chosen him. Bonded fully to him. No one can take that from him. “We got our answers,” he mutters, because as entertaining as watching the scientist’s obvious discomfort watching Soundwave is, he wants some quiet time with you. Wants to talk without Soundwave or Megatron listening in. Pretend it’s just you two like it had been back then when he was happiest. Figure out this new dynamic with the other two. His new Trine.

• Following Starscream out into the hall, he’s aware that he’s getting looks. That most of the Decepticons aren’t used to seeing his exposed face. Or it could be you as he nuzzles against your body to make you squirm with breathless little protests. And he stops short when the Seeker stops, wings lifting before Starscream starts laughing. Leaning, he looks down at Rumble and Frenzy and the little human they have in tow, Rumble’s arm around them. “Oh. Hi, boss,” Rumble says as Frenzy tries to pull the human into his arms. Head lifting to stare at Thundercracker, the Seeker carrying plastic boxes full of stuff, his wings flaring like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. And you’re twisting to look too as the other human notices you and waves. “So, we need our own habsuite,” Rumble adds as Starscream keeps laughing.

Previous

Next

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Are you jealous? Is that it?" the hero whispered. They were fully aware of the villain's personality. They were aware of the insecurities, the fears.

"I'd rather not talk about it," the villain answered. Instinctively, the hero reached for the villain's palm and let their fingertips dance over their skin. It was a soft attempt. The villain did not mind.

"You can't keep me here forever." With a deep sigh, the villain pulled away slowly, avoiding the hero's gaze and turned their eyes towards the window.

The hero knew that at times the villain could be quite delicate. Easy to break. And the hero also knew their role in this play, knew that if anyone could destroy them, if anyone had the power to defeat the villain, it was them. It was the hero.

The hero could have (if they wanted, that is) broken the villain in a matter of seconds.

To possess that kind of power was dangerous and the hero took no pride in it. They didn't want it. They didn't want to hurt anyone.

"I know," the villain said. "I'm sorry."

"I mean, honestly, I wish you could, but I have work and they will file a missing person's report and everything will be messy..."

"I know," the villain repeated with the same heartbreaking tone. "Sorry, I didn't really think about that."

They turned to look at the hero, ready to say something but they closed their mouth again. The hero bit the inside of their cheek. In the last few weeks, something had happened to them. They seemed to long for the hero's company, protected them more often, saw them more often.

For the most part, the villain was a silent threat, a calm force that stroke once and didn't miss. Sometimes, it felt like all the hero had to do was call out their name and they would appear.

That gave them a sense of security. Trust was important and they had worked long and hard to gain the villain's trust.

"What did you think about?"

"You." The villain tilted their head, gaze burning into the floor. "Mostly just you."

"Come here," the hero said and the villain didn't hesitate. They sat down next to them on the couch, looking effortlessly flawless but still tired. The hero took their hand again, choosing their next words carefully. Clearly, the villain wanted some kind of connection. They wanted something. Maybe they couldn't express it, maybe they didn't know where to start.

But the hero couldn't take it anymore. They were tip-toeing around each other and before it escalated and someone got hurt, they wanted to make a few things very clear.

With their fingers on the villain's jawline, they turned their enemy's face to look at them.

"Look, I..." The hero's eyes accidentally dropped to the villain's mouth and suddenly, the hero understood how difficult it could be to force those words out of their mouth. They could understand why the villain preferred to kidnap them instead of confronting their feelings like this. "I...you..."

"Yeah?" The villain put their hand on the hero's thigh.

"Is it jealousy?"

"A little, I think."

"What else?" The villain looked away, but the hero turned the villain's head with their fingers again.

"You know I like you more than I should," the villain said. They cupped the hero's cheek with their hand and let their thumb go over their bottom lip. "You know we should not..."

But the hero didn't care about that.

The villain seemed to be tortured by the fact that they had fallen in love. They were barely themselves.

And the hero couldn't live with themselves, knowing that they were responsible for someone's misery, especially when that someone was the villain who had proven countless of times what kind of person they were.

The hero knew about the troubled childhood and the horrible coping mechanisms, they knew about the anger issues and the many mistakes, knew about the regret and the guilt.

So, they leaned forward and kissed them. They tried to forget about the we shouldn't and closed their eyes, just as desperate for company as the villain. They were hesitant at first, clumsy even.

When was the last time someone had wanted them romantically? The hero knew about the public, about the media. They knew that a lot of people wanted them in a very crude way and were merely interested in having power over the hero.

But the villain was gentle. They didn't push, they didn't force. They protected, they encouraged, even if it was counterproductive for their own goals. They compromised where they shouldn't have and backed down when they crossed lines.

If this was some kind of manipulation, the hero was gladly walking into this trap. They were willing to get hurt at the expense of having someone value and appreciate them, having someone who protected them instead of the hero being the one who had to protect.

The villain's lips were warm against theirs and the hero regretted not having done this sooner. They had the feeling that the villain wasn’t sure what they were doing either.

However, they pulled away quickly, surprised that they were so daring. When they looked at the villain, they could see their enemy blush.

"Oh..." was all the villain managed and the hero themselves wasn't sure how to respond.

“Sorry, I…I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s fine, that’s totally fine,” the villain said. They didn’t look at the hero. Their ears were red.

“Please don’t be sad.”

“I’m not.”

“No, I mean…” The hero took their hands again. “Please don’t worry. I like you, too. I like you a lot. I know it’s hard to say, but I want to spend more time with you.”

The villain stared at them as if they’d said something shocking.

“But kidnapping isn’t really…the ideal date, you know?”

“Oh, I—”

“So, let’s go out next week, sounds good?”

The villain blinked a few times, still staring at the hero.

“Yes, yes I’d like that.”

[sunnypopoki]

— MUZZLE : P.7

(Yandere Mafia Husband x Female Reader)

SYNOPSIS: Your husband has been suspicious lately. Going out for days on end, answering suspicious phone calls, being extra clingy when he can... is he cheating on you? Little do you know, it's nothing like that. The world of the mafia is unforgiving.

TW: INSECURE REALISTIC FEMALE READER, FOUL LANGUAGE, MARRIED RELATIONSHIP, YANDERE CONTENT, MATURE THEMES, OVERTHINKING READER, AFAB READER, ETC.

THIS STORY HAS YANDERE CONTENT. THAT MEANS THERE WILL BE MORE MATURE CONTENT. THIS IS IN NO WAY A STORY MEANT TO ROMANTICIZE YANDERES, SO PLEASE DO NOT DO SO EITHER. PLEASE DO NOT COPY THIS STORY. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED TO POPOKI ON WATTPAD, QUOTEV, AND TUMBLR.

P.6 / P.8

Promises were said to be sacred, but after the following days, you gave up on thinking on such a childish claim. You were walking on a tightrope and before you knew it, you finally started to hear it withering below.

Kieran did his best to stay true to his word but in the end, it was nothing more than a fruitless dream said in the heat of the moment. He ended up picking up his phone calls and you ended up sleeping alone. You were losing the energy to care even if your heart throbbed at the thought.

Stepping off the bus, you pulled your bag up your shoulder and sighed. Kieran took the car that morning to work and so you were forced to take the bus to get to college. If he knew, he'd most likely apologize over and over again, and then never let you ride the bus again. He was always finicky about public transport.

You hopped around the puddles left from the early morning rain.

Ever since the breakdown in the car with Kieran, even to go as far as snapping at Danny, you've done a lot of self-reflection. And you mean a lot. While you were going to school for psychiatry to become a therapist, you weren't the best at regulating your own emotions. It was easier to point out other people's issues rather than pointing out your own.

Maybe I do need to look into seeing a therapist, you thought. It would be better than snapping at people.

Because in truth, you felt guilty. Very guilty. Not about everything else that's going on—but because of how you treated Danny. Everyone knows that it's easier to look back on your mistakes after they pass, and now that you were looking back on that lunch, you saw a lot of things that you could have done differently.

Like the fact he actually did care. Sure, you didn't realize it then, but now you could. How he tried to comfort you when you were spacing out, how he asked how you were doing, telling you that he trusted you enough to want you to work with him.

"He probably wouldn't have told me about my dad if he was working for him," you mumbled under your breath. "He wouldn't have even brought him up. If he wanted to manipulate me, there was no reason to bring up my father."

You assumed the worst. You assumed Danny was just like your dad, just because he happened to be a businessman too. How sad, right? You were so stuck in the past that it was hard to appreciate the love you had now.

Danny wasn't a bad man but you were so quick to assume he was even though you hadn't seen him in half a year. You acted just like how your father treated you; cruel, judgmental, selfish. You didn't take into account what Danny felt. Maybe he was just as anxious as you, he always did have social anxiety in school, even with his good grades.

For someone who wants to become a therapist, you were pretty quick to judge an old friend just because they talked about a topic that made you uncomfortable. How would Danny know it made you uncomfortable? It wasn't like he could read your mind. He hadn't seen you in six months and you expected him to still know everything about you?

You bit your lip. Damn it. Why did a throw a tantrum like that? I even yelled at Kieran.

Guilt was like a sword doused with poison. The moment you realized what you did after some self reflection, there was a sharp pain in your chest like a blade plunging into your heart. Then there was the creeping sensation of nausea each time you thought about what you did, getting worse and worse with each day that passed.

You hopped over a pothole on the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding pedestrians walking down the street. "...Should I message Danny and apologize? What if he doesn't want to hear it though?"

It was hard not to run away. It would be easier to pretend it never happened, to act like he was in the wrong, but in truth—both of you said things that weren't nice. Both of you hurt each other. It wasn't black and white and you realized that, but in that moment, you were selfish enough to think that you were the good guy and he was the bad guy.

"If I don't apologize, I'll continue to feel bad... but he might hate me now. What if he hates me? What if he'll hate me either way?"

Oh yeah. You needed a therapist.

Sorting out your brain was like an impossible puzzle. It was hard to see all the pieces when you didn't have a full view of the table, but with a therapist, they could help sort it out. And maybe they could help sort your thoughts about Kieran too. You slowly wrapped your arms around yourself and frowned.

Each time you had a bad thought and you tried to push it away, it came back ten times more forceful. It was hard to stop thinking. Maybe you had OCD... or just extreme anxiety... or some other undiagnosed mental illness?

I don't want to think about this.

But here you were, continuing to think about it.

You looked over when a dog caught your eye. It rolled over in a patch of grass on the side of the road in front of a storefront. Its hair was soaked with damp grass and dirt, speckled with crunched leaves and twigs. It was having the time of its life. Tailing wagging and panting loudly, you smiled softly when it started rolling over again.

You know what? Maybe a pet would help you sort out some of your issues. Going to bed in a cold bed would be impossible with a puppy cuddled up next to you. Taking care of something would help you distract yourself from all your thoughts too. Like an emotional support animal.

What type of dog would Kieran like?

Your jaw clenched up. Danny made you feel bad, but how you acted with Kieran made you feel sick to your stomach. You yelled at him. You yelled at him like your dad used to yell at your mom. Did he get scared? Is he hurt? You didn't know, since you avoided him ever since then.

You weren't a good friend and you weren't a good wife either. You yelled at him just because you were emotional, fuck, there was no reason to raise your voice but you did. So what if Kieran was distracted at that moment? That didn't give you the right to scream at him.

Maybe I'm turning into my dad? The thought made your blood turn cold. What if I picked up some of his traits with how he treated Mom?

Your father was an abuser. Not only towards you, but his wife as well. You were a child she didn't want, but he forced her to have one nonetheless; being a child of rape didn't help the family bond at all. The moment you were born was the moment everything went downhill. Your father wanted a boy but you weren't one, so he blamed and hit your mother for it, taking his frustrations and cruelty on you when he wanted to.

Your mom didn't love you. Over time, even if it was hard, you realized that you didn't blame her.

Imagine how hard it would be to bond with someone knowing that they shared the same blood as the man who abused you.

You stomped down the streets. The world was spinning, your throat closed up. What if you were abusing Kieran and didn't realize it? What if you were neglecting him? There was the possibility you weren't doing everything subconsciously, right? You yelled at him. You doubt him. You sneaked to look at his computer when he wasn't home.

You were the walking, breathing, sighing incarnation of your father.

No, no, no. Don't spiral, (Y/N). You know that you're spiraling so stop it! You mentally scolded yourself, clutching your bag tighter to you. I need to find a therapist, someone who can help me.

The city was blaring and it was hard to hear your own thoughts. Therapists were always hard to find; either it's because they were too expensive, or too booked, or too far away. You personally weren't a big fan of doing therapy through video. You were more of an "in-person" type of person, if that made sense.

Maybe if you were lucky, you'll find—

"Shit!"

You had only a split second to look up and realize someone turned around the corner you were walking past. Only a split second to dodge. But that was impossible, you weren't Superman. Your nose slammed into his chest and your feet stumbled back, barely managing to catch yourself so you didn't fall to the ground.

The man's hands were full and he struggled to balance himself. Your arm shot out to catch him, or maybe just grab something out of instinct, but it was too late—he crashed. His coffee splattered all over and his sunglasses skidded across the cement.

Realization hit you like a truck.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry!" you fretted, quickly helping the man up from the sidewalk. Cold sweat made your palms damp and your cheeks were burning hot. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Just as quickly as he fell, the man hopped back up with ease. He grumbled curses under his breath in another language, fixing his orange and red sweater, while he put his sunglasses back on. Luckily those weren't cracked, they looked expensive. No way would you have been able to pay those off.

You bent down to grab the empty coffee off the ground. Talk about guilt, you felt extremely guilty now. How did you not see him?! You should have been paying attention, not absentmindedly walking down the streets like a doofus! Now look at what you did; knocked down an innocent bystander because of your stupidity!

"I'm so sorry! Uhm, I can—I can buy you a new coffee," you stammered.

He whipped back around. You could barely see the heated glare behind the tinted lenses, his Italian accent harsh. "Bitch, fucking watch—"

He froze when he saw your face. For whatever reason, he looked like he had a scary realization of impending doom right when he saw you. Like the music for Jaws just started playing and he was looking down the mouth of a great white shark. The blood on his face drained to his feet and he licked his chapped lips.

You, on the other hand, took his expression as unbridled anger. He had every right to be angry. You'd also be pissed if someone knocked into you and made you spill your coffee and all your belongings. Especially since he looked all out together nicely, you probably just ruined his cool 'vibes'.

His dreadlocks were pulled into a pretty bun. You noticed the silver charms in his hair, matching the designer watch on his wrist. Even his orange-tinted sunglasses matched his orange and red sweater. He looked like he took an hour to organize his outfit for the day. Thank god the coffee didn't get all over the front of him. You hadn't a clue how much his sweater and pants cost, but based on that watch, you didn't want to look at the price tag.

If only you had a hole that you could jump and hide in forever. "I'm so sorry! Wait, here, let me..."

You turned out your wallet and pulled out twenty dollars. That had to be enough for coffee and a little something extra from the cafe nearby, right? You'd be fine. Ten dollars being left in your wallet was enough to buy a small sandwich on campus for lunch. It was your fault for forgetting your debit card back at home.

"Here, sir! Uhm, please take this. You can get yourself another coffee and something extra from the cafe nearby. I am so sorry."

The man rubbed the back of his neck, not reaching for the money. He didn't even glance at it. "Oh—uhm—It's okay. I don't need it."

"No, please, take it. I won't be able to forgive myself if I just ruined your morning like this," you confessed. "I wasn't watching where I was going, I'm sorry."

He was hesitant. You weren't dumb, you could tell he looked uncomfortable around you. There was the possibility that he was so angry that he was trying to hold it all back, making his movements almost robotically evasive. With muscles like his, he could easily hurt you if he wanted, but instead, he was acting like he'd get seared if he looked at you.

You prayed to god that he didn't explode and scream at you. You didn't think you'd be able to handle that this morning.

"I don't need the money. Ah... it's just—uhm, it's just a mistake. We all make mistakes."

But I'll feel like shit if you don't take it.

His complete 180° attitude was jarring. One moment he was glaring at you and calling you a bitch, now he was saying it was a mistake. Was he just trying to keep face?

You caught a glimpse of something black in the corner of your eye. Turning around, your face drained when you noticed his phone on the ground. His phone was cracked. Your mouth opened in horror and you choked, noticing that it was a newer brand.

How much were those phones? 2,000 dollars? You'd have to sell your soul to get him that type of money.

"Oh my god! I'm so fucking sorry! I didn't realize I broke your phone!"

He blinked. "Huh?"

Looking down to where you were staring, he finally noticed that his phone was on the ground, the screen destroyed. It stared back at him with cracked glass and a chipped case. It was just a small tumble! Why did it look like it went through the Himalayas?!

There was a long pause. The man cleared his throat, rubbed his face, bent down, and grabbed his phone. He tapped at the screen but it didn't come on. Again, it didn't turn on. And again, nothing. He didn't look as angry as you thought he'd be, but that didn't smooth your nerves.

"...uh, It's okay. I can—"

"It's not okay! I'll—I'll pay for it. Uhm, I don't have the money with me now, but uhhhh..." you pulled out a notebook from your bag and tore a piece of paper, "please email me here, since your phone is decimated. Fuck, I am so sorry. I'll pay you back I swear. Promise."

He didn't take the note or say anything. He stood there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath. He looked fed up. Oh no. You screwed up big time. You made him fall, lose his coffee, and crack his super duper expensive phone.

"...do—do you not have an email? I can uh, I can give you my phone number if you have another phone to reach me," you asked, clutching the paper tight in your hands. "I—I don't have the money now but I swear I'll get it! How much was it? 1,500? 2,000?"

The man cleared his throat. There was another long pause before he hesitantly glanced at me. "I'm not upset. I just have a question. Are you... uh, (Y/N)?"

If there was a magic word to put all your defenses up in a heartbeat, it would be your name. It wasn't like a lot of people knew it. You didn't flaunt it on social media and you weren't famous, you didn't have a lot of friends either, so it wasn't like it was normal for a random person to know your name on the street. Your muscles wound up. Maybe this man worked for your father? It wouldn't have surprised you if he sent someone to stalk you.

You glanced around. There were no suspicious fancy cars on the street, or suspicious people that looked like they were watching you.

Repaying the phone didn't seem to matter all that much anymore.

"...yes? How do you know my name?"

He bit his lip and glanced around as if he was scared some monster would come out of the shadows and attack him. He looked more paranoid than you did. "Uh... sorry for randomly asking that. However, I'm a friend of your husband, Kieran."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You've never heard of him or even seen this guy before. Maybe he was a client of Kieran's? A writer or journalist? A fellow editor? If you had to put it nicely, the man in front of you didn't look like he had the patience to sit down and edit written work. With bulky muscles like that, you'd expect him to be a wrestler or full-time bodybuilder.

The man cleared his throat and pushed back the money you gave him, along with the torn paper. "As Kieran's friend, I can't take his wife's money. I can buy some coffee and a new phone easily." 

Seriously? Easily?

"But if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you about something," he straightened his back up and there was a spark of confidence in his eyes, along with some determination as if he made up his mind about something. "Could you sit with me at the coffee shop now? I have concerns about Kieran."

This was weird. This entire ordeal was so weird that it almost didn't feel real. Let's put it into perspective; you bump into a man and he calls you a bitch, then changes and starts saying you made a mistake, asks for your name, claims to be your husband's friend, and then asks to talk to you over coffee? So yeah, weird.

You were about to say no, but then stopped yourself when you remembered you were in his debt. You just broke his phone and made him spill his coffee, the least you could do was pay for his coffee while he talked to you about something.

Even if it was weird, it wasn't like you were going somewhere where it was just you and him alone. He couldn't possibly kidnap you inside a coffee shop next to a busy street in the city. You examined him head to toe. He didn't look like he had any weapons, and if he was a friend of Kieran's, you doubted he'd harm you.

Your college class could wait. Luckily your professor was kind enough to know you weren't the type to ditch class willy-nilly.

"Okay, but I'll pay for your coffee. It's the least I can do," you stuck your hand out for a polite shake, "what's your name?"

The man took your hand. "Mathew."

"Nice to meet you then."

It was awkward, so you didn't say a thing as he started to blabber and lead you to the coffee shop that was close by. You didn't know what to say. Should you compliment his clothes? Ask how he knew Kieran? He'd most likely elaborate over coffee.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him. Just why was he wanting to talk to you was the big question. It wasn't like you were a super genius and you didn't know a lot about Kieran's schedule, so he could ask about that. You doubted this man knew anything at all about you except your name.

The walk to the coffee shop was a long one. Well, it was realistically only two minutes of walking, but the mental time there was forever. The man blabbered about random things to pass the awkward wall there; the time, the weather, the news. He didn't mention anything about the most recent murder case which you were grateful for. You already had so many things on your mind, you didn't want to think about that.

The door to the coffee shop chimed when the both of you walked in. A young waitress perked up from where she slumped against the counter and quickly rushed to give us a booth.

Finally, things are moving along.

Mathew slipped inside his seat. Unlike the restaurant you ate at with Danny and Kieran, this place was cozy and right up your alley. The smell of coffee beans filled the room and the rays from outside poured through the window, warming up the table. He ordered a black coffee and you ordered an iced caramel latte. You didn't even like lattes all that much, but it was the best thing on the menu.

Mathew smiled. "This coffee shop is very cozy, don't you think?"

"It is."

"It's perfect for a date. Have you taken Kieran here before?"

"No, I have not."

He didn't seem bothered by your robotic responses. It was like he already knew how you'd react to him. He didn't push for any more questions, instead, he waited for you to ask the question you've been dying to ask ever since he told you he was Kieran's friend.

"...So, Mathew, how come has Kieran never told me about you before?"

Mathew tapped his fingers against the table. He had horrible posture, leaning back with a nonchalant air surrounding him. He didn't seem angry or nervous anymore. Maybe it was just possible that he had mood swings. That made more sense than whatever weird explanation you could come up with inside your head.

"I helped raise him, I met the kid back in Russia," he stated and your eyes widened. So he's a very old friend of Kieran's.

"Wait. So you know his family? His parents as well?"

"Yes. Mr and Mrs Morosov helped me back before when I lived in Italy. I became a close friend to them and grew up with Kieran, even though me and him aren't close in age at all."

You squinted. "But you look his age?"

Mathew blinked. His lips curled into a charming smile, his eyes crinkling around the edges when he laughed. "Oh really? It's always flattering to hear a pretty woman compliment my youthful appearance. Thank you, but I'm twenty-nine."

Your cheeks warmed up. He really did look young, as if he drank from the fountain of youth itself. His face was incredibly smooth (more so than yours) and you wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly told you he was an actor forced to play younger roles in movies. It was always heartwarming to see someone smile so genuinely. It was a good thing that he took that comment as a compliment, you didn't want him calling you a bitch again.

"I think that's why he hasn't told you about me," he confessed and shrugged his shoulders. "We aren't close in age, our interests are different, and he's a married man. I'm too much of a partygoer for him to hang out with me."

That made sense. Kieran has never been a party man of any sort, especially not when he was younger. Sure, he was reckless and a troublemaker, but his trouble wasn't extroverted. He'd much rather sing to himself in the shower than go to karaoke and drink with buddies. He was a risk taker who avoided risks that meant talking to others.

"I see... and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I'll be blunt, why do you want to talk to me?" You asked, crossing your hands on the table. For some reason, you felt anxious.

Mathew's slowly smile fell. He cleared his throat and fixed up his posture. "Well, it's about Kieran.”

"Oh."

This could be one of many things. Mathew could be here to snitch on Kieran about all the things he has been up to behind your back. He could tell you about a secret mistress, he could tell you about being in a gang, he could tell you about any secret that you didn't know of.

The dread you've felt this entire time trampled over you. Was it finally time? Were you finally going to get all the answers you wanted? Did you even want to hear it now? Bile rose in your throat.

"I need for you to talk to Kieran about something. He's been acting weird lately, and he trusts you more than me, so—" Mathew cut himself off when he saw your blanched-out expression. His lips pursed into a thin line. "Spit it out. You're thinking about something already."

Perceptive people always unnerved you. Swallowing down your thoughts, you wondered if he was trustworthy enough to share your worries with.

The waitress came back with the drinks. A mug was pushed in front of Mathew and he took a greedy gulp, while you nervously played with the rim of your cup. You watched the ice tilt in the coffee.

"Well?" he raised an eyebrow, "If you're thinking about Kieran, we might have the same concerns."

That was true. This man was a friend of Kieran's, and you trusted that without a doubt. He even knew his parents. Maybe this was the leap of faith that you were waiting for. Even if you were nervous, you had to be at least a little brave. It wasn't like you were speaking to Kieran right now.

"...you promise you won't share any of this with Kieran?" you asked.

"Swear on my heart."

"Okay, good," you ignored the trembles in your fingers and quickly took a sip of your coffee. It wasn't that good. "Uhm, well... my concerns are—uh how do I say this?"

Mathew deadpanned as he took a huge swig of his drink. "Bluntly. Always works for me."

I hesitated. "Well then, okay, uhm—I think he might be cheating on me with someone named Sam."

He coughed. "What?"

It was like magic. The moment the words left your lips, you were spilling out your guts to him. Laying out every worry, every secret, every insecurity for him to see. Screw a therapist, now a stranger could see all the puzzle pieces on the table. You couldn't stop yourself.

"I know! I saw on his computer that he was talking to someone called Sam. Like, it could be a boy, but it could also be a woman. I know, it's bad and a shitty thing to do as a wife, I feel bad for snooping but he kept being weird and so—"

Mathew raised his hand and you buffered, but before you could blabber some more, he said, "Slow down. What are you saying?"

"I—uh.. well, I think Kieran is cheating on me with someone named Sam, and I feel bad because I snooped through his laptop—"

"You don't have to feel bad. I'd do the same if my partner or spouse was acting weird and not sharing things."

Your jaw dropped. "...you would?"

Mathew wasn't as judgmental or disgusted as you thought you would. He looked normal, like you didn't do anything wrong. He shrugged.

"Yeah? It's normal. I mean, it's not like you're suspecting him without evidence," he shrugged. "Have you asked him about it? Bluntly? You know, communication is key, or whatever the fuck therapists say."

He was right. Communication was key, that was how so many healthy relationships prospered, but in this situation—communication was scary. You didn't want to think about all the times when not communicating led to toxic situations. You running from the store out of spite, you yelling at Kieran, and you avoiding him. God, there were so many things.

You swallowed the bile in the back of your throat. You felt like vomiting. Why did you have to think about this right now? All you wanted to do was go to your lecture peacefully and come home.

"I'll take your silence as a no. Why haven't you?"

His words felt like a slap. "...I mean... like, what if he... is?"

Mathew was silent for a bit. He stared at you, examining your expression, doing his best to read what you were thinking. Finally, he let out a long sigh and motioned at you. "Then he is. It's shitty, it's fucked up, and he's a douchebag."

Damn, he wasn't lying about being blunt. You held back your excuses. You weren't sure why you immediately wanted to make defenses for yourself and Kieran. If Kieran was cheating then yeah, he was a douchebag, so there was no reason to form up a defense for him. So why did you want to?

"Well..."

"Listen to me, kid. Whether you ask him or not, nothing is going to change unless you confront him about it. If he's cheating, and I'm saying if, then he's gonna cheat whether or not you ask him. That's how cheaters are. Wouldn't you want to know either way?"

"I..." you were at a loss for words.

You didn't like the fact that he was right. He was staring at the most obvious things, but they felt so new and fresh compared to what you normally thought. Like he was shoving a cold drink in front of you and forcing you to chug it down, it was numbing to the brain.

Mathew rubbed his face and waved his hand around, trying to get his point through your thick skull. "I don't think he is, if you're going to ask for my opinion on the matter. It's just, that he has had some... issues lately. To put it lightly."

You frowned. Concern shoved the negative thoughts out of the way.

"Issues? Is he in danger? Or trouble?"

He shook his head. "Family issues. Papa Morosov has been gunning for his ass."

That didn't explain the constant disappearances from the house in the middle of the night. Especially for those long multiple-day trips he always took. But maybe it explained the cuts and busted knuckles? You hadn't a clue. Mr. Morosov wasn't in the States, was he? Mrs. Morosov would most likely want to see you if he was since the two of them always traveled together no matter what.

But you were confused. Mr. Morosov was a kind man, so why was he gunning after Kieran? And what for?

You didn't know much about Kieran's family life. He didn't talk about his experiences in Russia all that much, or London, and you now had a gut feeling it was because of his parents. You just prayed they weren't using him. They didn't seem like the type, but now the thought was there, and that meant it would go away.

"I see..." you drawled, looking down at your hands. Your nails picked together. This day started weirdly and you weren't sure what to feel about it.

There was some closure knowing that Mathew didn't think Kieran was cheating on you. If it was about his father like Mathew mentioned, would that make you feel better? You wanted Kieran to feel better, to pay attention to you, and to be happy. If his father was getting in the way of that, what would you be able to do to keep him safe? What would you be able to do to keep him sheltered from all that?

You couldn't make decisions for Kieran. That was impossible.

But, but, if he was truly getting targeted by his father for things out of his control, you'd have to do something. Use your influence as his wife to help him in some way. Then there was the other option of him cheating on you... you'd rather think about the other.

"Can I give you a piece of raw unfiltered advice?" Mathew blurted.

You looked up. "Go ahead."

"Avoidance isn't a cure to hard situations. Whether or not you're there, it's happening. The world doesn't stop just because someone pretends it is," he pointed at you and you felt your body run with chills. "It's time for you to stop avoiding, (Y/N). Time doesn't stop for you and Kieran just because you want to stay in a time when things were easier."

Your body locked up. He stared deep into your eyes, harsh and unsettling, but you supposed the truth always looked like that no matter what form it took.

A small bell went off in your head. So that was what you were trying to do. You were trying to stay in the past when things were easier, when you were a kid. You did it with Danny too. You compared Danny to his past self, but how many times have you compared Kieran to his past self as well?

"You just need to realize that relationships don't stay the same. You aren't teenagers anymore, you're adults, you're married, you have your own house. Understand?"

"...yes," you nodded slowly, ignoring the burn in your eyes. "Thank you. But let's say I do confront Kieran about... everything. I don't know—where should I—well, what I'm trying to say is, how should I talk to him?"

Mathew looked at you like you had three heads. "Just talk? Don't beat around the bush for his feelings."

You scratched at your head. "Well, I know that, but I mean—how should I bring up with him? Without hurting his—"

"What did I just say?" Mathew huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. You flinched. "He's been neglecting your marriage, leaving at night, and you're worried about him being hurt about the consequences of his actions? If he gets his feelings hurt, then boo-hoo. He's a grown man neglecting his wife, he can fucking handle it."

Your lips zipped shut. "But—"

"Ask him, 'Are you cheating on me?' That's it. Five little words that form a little sentence."

It was easy when he put it like that, but each time you tried to say those 'five little words' in the past, you always clamped up. Every. Single. Time. You were starting to believe that you couldn't say that at all, maybe you were cursed and you weren't allowed to say that sentence at all.

Mathew watched your expression and his lips quirked into a goofy smile. "You rambled to me after you bumped into me, you can ramble to him. Just don't break his phone."

Your face turned hot. "I'm still so sorry—"

"Geez woman. It was a joke," he snorted and stretched his arms behind him on the booth, his smile growing. His orange sunglasses lowered on his nose and you watched his dark eyes spark with mischief. "I'd suggest joking with him when you confront him. He won't be able to lie when he hears how uptight you are."

You gaped. Did he just call me uptight?!

"Well excuse me! I'm just responsible."

"Oh? You are?" he grinned, "responsible enough to walk in a straight line without bumping into someone?"

He was quick-witted. He shot out comebacks without thinking, teasing you without a care in the world. He reminded you a lot of Kieran in that sense, only Kieran was a lot softer when it came down to teasing you. Mathew was a lump of coal, Kieran was a lump of charcoal; similar but not the same at all.

"Oh shush! I said I was sorry," I crossed my arms. "Plus you called me a bitch at first so I have every right to be uptight."

"Well, you are one."

"What?!"

He burst out laughing. His head flew back and he cackled like a madman, slapping his leg under the table. People in the coffee shop glanced at him, but he seemed to ignore all the attention, wheezing between words. "I'm kidding! My god kid, your face was glorious. Swore a fly almost flew into your mouth with how fast that jaw dropped."

Your face was burning. People always said that older brothers teased their sisters like this, and it honestly felt like it. It made sense. He was like an older brother to Kieran in a way, and now he was meeting someone who was technically like his sister-in-law. Your lips twitched up into a smile.

"Shut it. People are staring at you, I hope you know," you rolled your eyes.

"Let them. They all want me anyway."

You snorted. Mathew finished the rest of his coffee and glanced at his clock, smiling ear to ear. There was a sense of smugness around him.

"Ah. It seems I have to go. I don't want my boss beating the shit out of me for being late," he snorted. It looked like he actually believed his boss would beat the shit out of him. "Don't worry about the money, kid. I'll handle it. I'll pay for your coffee as well."

"Oh no, I can pay for my own stuff!"

"Nope!" he popped the 'p' and slid out of his booth, jumped on the balls of his feet, and rolled his shoulders back. "Now what do you say to people after they make you feel better after a depressive episode?"

So that was his goal for teasing you. It worked, you didn't feel as glum and beaten down as before. There was this sense of relief hanging over your head; with all your worries laid out, and some advice that helped you realize your own thought processes, and his abusive teasing, you felt a little better.

Not perfect; but lighter.

"I—thank you," you smiled softly. "Truly. You've helped a lot."

Mathew snickered. He said nothing before waving nonchalantly and skipping away as if talking to you made his day ten times better. How did we get from him calling you a bitch to him skipping away with a smile? It was like he came out of an old cartoon and he was the trouble-maker coyote.

You looked down at your cup. The ice was melted and the table was still warm. You failed to realize that Mathew never had a chance to share what he originally wanted to talk about. Your smile slowly fell and you took a deep breath, steadying your thoughts.

Maybe you'd talk to Kieran later.

Just maybe.

Check out my new story, DEAD & DONE!! It’s a yandere reverse harem x female reader. If you like this story, you might like this other one. It also has organized crime, gangs, and shady stuff.

Links: Wattpad, Quotev, Buy Me A Coffee, Discord Server.

I’ve thought about opening writing commissions; what do yall think? Tell me in the comments.

[depraved-love]

Alois Trancy X Mother Figure F!Reader

Self-indulgent content ahead you've been warned.

Honestly, I have no idea how you did this. Maybe you were looking for a job, or perhaps you stumbled upon his manor during a storm. Either way, you ended up in Alois's service.

It took a bit; he was very cautious around you. (It's been a while since he had a human servant.)

One night, you were behind on your duties and working overtime. You were just outside his door when he screamed in terror.

You ran to his side and found him breathing heavily, staring at the door as if a monster would storm in any second. But it was just you.

Used to looking after children, you acted on instinct. You sat next to him, took him in your arms, and ran your fingers through his hair. In a gentle, hushed tone, you asked, "What's wrong?"

In that moment, he didn't care if you were being fake; he just craved the feeling of being truly looked after. He didn't tell you what the nightmare was about, but from there, it all changed.

Day 1: He clung to you the whole day. (To his butler's astonishment and dismay.)

Day 4: You were to stop calling him "Your Highness." (Calling him Alois was faster anyway.)

Day 6: You lost all duties that didn't involve him.

Day 10: You moved into his room.

Day 15: He promoted you from your former role to his caretaker alongside Claude.

Day 30: You moved into his room.

Day 31: He started settling down, or so it seemed.

Day 90: "Mother! Help me get dressed!" It was a slip-up. He expected a big reaction, but when it didn't come, it became the norm. Other servants don't like the closeness you share but keep their mouths shut... for now...

From then on, Alois became dependent on you to an unhealthy degree.

He doesn't like you disciplining him much, but surprisingly he lets you, as long as it's not physical.

He developed a major co-sleeping issue. He can't help that your arms are so warm.

He won't admit it, but he likes when you actively baby him—when you say he's too young to handle something, when you wipe something off his cheek, and so on.

He might act a little more clumsy... not on purpose, of course... He didn't usually cry over a small cut or a scraped knee... well, he certainly changed.

You have your own kids? Great! Now he gets to have siblings again! He has to be the favorite, though.

His favorite activity is always going to be when you sit in the library with him in your lap and read him stories.

You can't heal him, but you help him get better and eventually live a happy life...

[Canon end] You were visiting your family when it happened... you only found the body... The guilt nearly killed you, but you lived through it. You never moved on. The image of the body of a boy you came to love haunts you. The most awful feeling, though, is the fact that you can't feel him. It's like someone or something locked his soul away so that you never can feel his presence again.

[tacitusk1llwhore]

I saw a really interesting post about Abigail and Arthur’s relationship and the journal entry where he talks about marrying her. While a lot of people see this as a marriage of convenience, I personally see it a little differently! (Don’t worry, I don’t think they were in love at any point!!)

I think the farthest their relationship could/would go during this is a platonic connection that borders on romantic at times, but not because they have romantic feelings for one another. Personally, I believe that with how at ease Abigail is with Arthur and better yet how at ease Jack is with him in the events of the game, Arthur has probably played a big role in Jacks life, ESPECIALLY in the time John was gone. With John gone, there wouldn’t be any guilt of being a surrogate father (the whole “I ain’t the one takin’ Jack on fishin’ trips.” conversation during that one mission, their little squabbles over it in camp interactions too).

Arthur would, in my mind, absolutely step into that role, especially with how he talks about how lucky John is. I think it would be hard to separate feelings, truthfully. Abigail is watching this man take care of her son, whose father is god knows where, seeing a male figure love and provide for her and her son for the first time, probably in her whole life, something she wished John would do for the two of them—(Arthur continues to do this in-game, fishing trip, storybooks, candy, even giving money for new clothes)— and Arthur is seeing this as a second chance of sorts, his way to protect and provide, to do what he couldn’t do for who he lost.

That’s where the issue comes in though…they don’t love each other like that—but at the same time, they feel that connection because they both are using one another to fill a void of some sort. For Abigail, she’s being taken care of, her son is being taken care of, she had a strong male presence not out to manipulate or sleep with her for the first time, and Arthur gets the family that he lost: a good, strong woman and a child.

They both see what can be: her and Arthur a couple, him a father to Jack but can’t force themselves to be that—to truly want that because they don’t, not with each other at least. I think that maybe just maybe they tried it, even toyed with the idea of something at some point in time that John was gone for that reason alone. But with John back, Abigail had to face the reality of the man she truly loved being back (even if he is a deadbeat at the time), and Arthur had to face the fact that Jack isn’t his, he’s not Isaac, and Abigail isn’t Eliza. With the main factor to separate them and give them clarity back in the picture, I think the pair would finally realize this fact and go back to being strictly platonic because any romance that did happen was out of this mutual need to fill a void, not a desire to be with one another if that makes sense. But Arthur seeing that John STILL treats them poorly, the marriage entry makes sense.

The wishing that he could’ve forced himself to marry her, to push through the conflicting emotions and the fact that he didn’t really love her like that—so that he knew that she and her son would be provided for, because at the end of the day he does love both of them, just not in the way that he wants to, and vice versa. Looking into their relationship is so interesting to me.

That’s my hot take for today. That’s all!

[beloveds-embrace]

Hihi!! Re-read your dukedome where reader falls deathly ill after being neglected so many times, I absolutely adore it. It kept me on the edge of my seat, I love how I could actually feel my heart plummet alongside Gaz’s when he finds reader in her bed and terribly sick

It had my brain trying to think up of different ways this could end up. Like if reader ended up not surviving, being too fragile and weakened by malnourishment, the emotional toll of everything and the sickness. Would the 141 be able to look at each other knowing they have innocent blood on their hands? Would it weaken their bond? Would they feel sick to their stomach each time they try to be intimate as the thought of reader haunts them?

Or maybe reader does indeed survive, but the extent of the illness and how far it set left her with permanent health issues, a compromised immunity and weaker lungs, leaving the possibility of the smallest of colds making her bed ridden and proving to be possibly fatal. So now she is truly a bird in a golden cage with her wings clipped as she is too physically vulnerable to do much of anything. The 141 having to live with the physical embodiment of their guilt and regret

Maybe this incident messed up with her psyche, causing her to develop androphobia (a fear of men), or an unhealthy and concerning fascination with drowning and water

Oh and the fact that Gaz was the one to find her could either result in her being afraid of him specifically (last voice she heard, so her fever ravished brain just went bonk) or she grows very attached to him specifically or maybe a third secret route lmao

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough I think. Thank you for the fuel for my silly little scenarios (btw, please don’t feel obligated to write for this ask, I just wanted to share my thoughts with you since it’s your au. In no way is this meant to pressure you, I would hate to come across as demanding or making you uncomfortable.)

Hope you have and amazing day/night and remember to always put your well-being first and take care of yourself <33

WAITTT anon this reminds of the trope of yk “woman of the house who is a recluse” and this fitsss 😩 like yes at first it was due to how much weaker her immune system now was, how vulnerable she was, but more than that duchess is now just… tired. Tired and scared. Of all of them, not just Kyle. They had led her to this point- how is she meant to look at them with anything except for fear?

Though as for them, the guilt is eating them alive. Barely anyone can get the duchess to whisper more than a few words, and now she spends her days even more secluded from everyone than before. It’s a cruel existence, and they are largely to blame for it.

Thank you so so much for this wonderful idea, anon!! I hope you have a lovely, perfect day/night :3 💕🫶🏻

[dunmeshistash]

ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

[hoahoahoahoahoa]

I know a lot of folks take issue with Bella taking Edward back and forgiving him right away in New Moon without any groveling on his part but I do think it was in-character for her, and that's what's important to me.

That doesn't mean the process of them getting back together couldn't have been more complicated. As it is, it feels like canon more or less washes its hands of the events of New Moon like "whew glad that's over". Edward and Bella don't really grow from it as individuals or a couple; it's just a dark period that they try not to talk about because it makes Edward feel guilty. The greatest lasting change from New Moon is Edward magically overcoming his bloodlust for Bella, and I don't care for that.

One aspect of New Moon that was particularly interesting and was dropped like a hot potato was Bella hallucinating Edward. I'm far from the first person to talk about it but it was delicious, ok. That's a great avenue for Bella immediately forgiving Edward but not giving them both a free pass to just get over the whole ordeal.

So maybe make Bella reckon with the fact that she saw and heard things that weren't really there, and (indirectly) pushed her to do things she normally wouldn't, and these hallucinations were the catalyst for her getting Edward back. She did worry in New Moon that she would wake up and it would have all been a dream, iirc.

Even if she forgives him, she can't will herself to trust him again. Hell, she can't necessarily trust herself at this point, right?

(cutting here because this is getting to be longer than is polite to put on dashboards)

The whole way home from Italy, Bella's bracing herself for Edward to leave again. I don't have a copy handy but I think I remember her entertaining the idea that he's accompanying her home more out of guilt than a desire to be with her? This is all despite Edward behaving in a way that's clear to the readers that he's happy to be reunited with Bella. So there's some established dissonance.

Why not push that dissonance a little harder? Why not pair it with her increasingly estranged grasp on reality? (remember, her last hallucinations of Edward on Cliff Day were the clearest yet)

She was actually pretty fortunate that she was aware she was hallucinating. Maybe that luck runs out-- or at least she thinks it has. Have her question the reality of her situation more and more; Edward being back, still loving her (having always loved her), not being dangerous to her is all awfully convenient, isn't it? She starts to think so. It's always been a little unbelievable to her that he would choose her.

It would be wonderfully ironic if Edward coming back is what finally pushed her from "hmm yeah I'm seeing things that aren't really there, that's interesting" to "am I seeing things that aren't there? have I always?"

As mentioned, her trust in what the real Edward says can't be restored by her simply choosing to trust him again, and if she can't trust Edward and she can't trust herself, her confidence in what's real or not gets worse and worse, too. Does Edward really still love her, or is he just placating her despite wanting to leave again, or is she having hallucinations when he's saying he loves her? -> Is Edward really back at all, or was Alice coming back and the whole trip to Italy all in her head, just a dream? -> Was Edward ever real/are vampires real?

...Okay maybe the questioning doesn't go that far, but you get where I'm going with this: consciously, Bella loves and forgives Edward. But she can't just decide to start trusting him again, no matter how much she wants to. And since her relationship with him is so all-consuming (this is a feature of Twilight not a bug btw) and losing him broke her, how does that affect her ability to accept that everything's back to normal?

What I'm getting at is it would be perfectly logical for Bella to shield herself from potentially going through the heartbreak again by not letting herself think she has him to lose again.

I know the "was any of it real?" plot is a bit basic and trite but I think it's made more interesting by Edward having tried to make it "it'd be "as if [he] never existed", after all. Is the memory of him saying that a hint from her subconscious? His own words continue to bite him in the ass by hurting Bella and his ability to make her feel truly secure and loved... which is his life's purpose, at this point.

He's in agony when he says "I love you" and she looks at him with big sad eyes and a wistful smile and says "I loved him, too". She's trying to act as if the Edward in front of her is real because Charlie said hello to him that morning, but at this point she thinks she's cracked so bad that she only imagined Charlie acknowledging him. As far as she's concerned, she's not dating a vampire anymore; she's entertaining a phantom. She tries to keep the phantom happy by acting as if he's real, because she can't bear to make any version of Edward sad, but she slips sometimes. This means whatever Edward says/does to convince Bella that he is back and real and in love with her, he can never be 100% sure that she believes him like she says she does.

I think this plotline could have a bittersweet ending with Bella more or less giving up on the idea of reality itself, because what's in front of her feels real enough, and if she can't fix it anyway she might as well make the most of it and enjoy "Edward".

Anyway shoutout to @edwardskhakipants who played with a similar idea in this fic, in a way that's pretty novel (spoilers): Bella is still hallucinating and she knows it, but the hallucinations are no longer the protector they were in New Moon. They (literally) give a voice to her worst fears and push her over the edge. The idea is devious and horrible and g o r g e o u s. Khaki is so, so good at stressing me the fuck out

[a-bright-comet]

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

[fligniuz]

Hey there flig, i really loved that last drabble where lu has some problems of his own during sex. i was wondering if you could maybe write a sort of part 2? like heavier on the dialogue, maybe about the conversation that you’d have to probably bring up w him to ask him what you can do to make him feel less pressured, etc and where you reassure him multiple times that nothings wrong with him and that he’s perfect as he is and you’ll make it work? In all my years of fanfic reading i’d never read something on the topic, and I really liked how intimate u portrayed it. Thank you :)

(a continuation of this prompt)

“are you sure it’s not me?”

this is exactly what he feared. the last thing he wanted to do was kill the mood, and now he’s got you all insecure.

“oh, god, baby, no,” luigi assures you, stroking your shoulder. “i promise you it’s not. it’s, uh, it’s a nerve issue, mostly—like, the nerves in my lower back can get compressed, which…you know?”

you nod. “yeah, that makes sense. it all runs together.”

“right.”

your gentle hands come to trace patterns over his broad chest: stars, circles, squares, figure eights.

“is there anything i can do?” you ask.

his brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“like…” you ponder it. “i don’t want to make you feel pressured when we do get intimate. how can i make it more comfortable for you?”

“i guess i’ve never really thought about it,” he says. “you haven’t pressured me before. i never feel that way with you.”

you adjust your head on his shoulder. “but you’d tell me if i did, right?”

he turns to look at you, nodding. “yeah. i would.”

for a few moments, the two of you lay in silence; luigi watches the ceiling fan turn and you continue on with your skin-tracing, eyes closed in relaxation.

the guilt doesn’t leave him. not easily.

“are you sure you’re not disappointed?” he asks, feeling small.

you sit up, now, face suddenly serious. “how could i be disappointed in something you can’t control?”

he shrugs. “just because i can’t control it doesn’t mean you can’t feel disappointed.”

“sure,” you agree, “but even if i were, that wouldn’t change anything. it’s unproductive.”

he can’t really argue with that.

“luigi,” you say softly, turning his head to face you with one warm hand. “i love you. i think you’re perfect and i mean that with my whole heart.”

“yeah, whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“i mean it!” you insist. you lean forward and press a sloppy kiss to his cheek, then to his nose. “you’re the sexiest man i’ve ever looked at and i love you and your dick. no joke. all facts.”

“i believe you!” he laughs.

“good,” you say, kissing his lips now. “because i mean it. big time.”

“i love you,” he murmurs, nuzzling your nose. “thanks for being cool about it.”

“thank you for telling me,” you add. “we’ll figure it out, babe. we always do.”

luigi smiles. “yeah. we always do.”

(anon i’m bad at dialogue but!!!! i hope U like this ^_^)

[meowmeow518]

As for the rowdy ruff boys.

The idea that townsville saw the boys and their rampant destruction and had almost the same exact reaction they had to the girls when they first appeared means everything to me.

Those five year old boys were exploded, killed in a very childlike, haha cooties way that almost distracts from the fact that 3 children died and went to hell.

Post their resurrection, the boys are on their own again. It’s not as if mojo jojo is parenting them. I seriously doubt that Him is doing all that much to care for them either.

In most scenes with the boys they don’t really seem to have a home. Which makes me wonder, where do they sleep? Who is deciding what they eat? I’m assuming despite the fact they are the same age, brick is the leader who is making these decisions.

Sure it should be fine, he’s got superpowers, how hard can it be? Does anyone actually think superpowers magically gives you the thought process to properly care for yourself and your siblings?

I imagine they often found themselves crashing into abandoned buildings to avoid a ppg visit and eating stolen candy, getting sick from it, getting dehydrated and not realized it as kids do. I imagine brick being confused many times in how to handle caring for their needs. I like to think this probably made him really anxious. As he grows up, being the disciplinarian of his brothers, their sort of provider in a way, he ends up feeling isolated from them and from others with a natural distrust of adults and authority.

His brothers, although sort of abused kids, on some level still get to be kids. Brick is left with some major baggage that he does not have the strength or the knowledge to tackle it.

The boys, particularly Butch who I imagine takes the brunt of “punishment” from his brother ends up feeling this sense of resentment festering into something like hatred. Not hatred exactly but the same feeling one would get with a father who wasn’t there for them properly or was too harsh or cruel. Butch wouldn’t have words for it, he wouldn’t understand why he’s so angry and maybe just thinks he’s jealous that brick makes all the decisions. Butch has daddy issues with his brother who is the same age and I think even if he realized that’s what it was, I don’t think he could admit that.

Brick on the other hand would have pent up guilt and a fierce denial that he did anything wrong. (He did his best and it should be enough) he wouldn’t be able to face the idea that he hurt the only people he can consider his family.

Personally I would love to see more complex content on the dynamics between the rowdy ruff boys. They fascinate me endlessly and I may or may not have a self insert child psychologist who stalks them.

If you like what I’m saying, feel free to join my 18+ discord for more chatting ^_^

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.9. ALL OR NOTHING.

“he doesn’t see her today. but he’s thinking of her anyway. when is he not? today, he sends a song to her, because he doesn’t know what she’s playing in her waiting room.”

content warnings: nightmares, lots of talk about death, the fear of growing up, parental issues, manipulation/guilt-tripping, someone here might just be traumatized, my booty writing

when she was younger, she had a lot of nightmares.

sometimes they were something stupid; something that shouldn’t have scared her but did. sometimes they were things implausible; like walking on a dirt path, and suddenly the ground giving out on her and she was falling from an inescapable height, her mouth open and trying to scream with all her might but no sound was coming up, and then she woke up right before she hit the ground.

sometimes, they were about death.

about people dying.

she was never the one responsible, and they never died in a terrifying way.

they were realistic causes, like old age, or a car crash. none of that scared her.

it was her reaction to the deaths that scared her. 

her brain wasn't necessarily punishing her with these terrors of death, it was punishing her for how terrible and cold-hearted she was.

she would dream of her father dying of a disease at an old age and everyone around her would be crying but her. she'd stand there, eyes dry, just thinking about what she should’ve done. she should’ve said i love you, instead of love you. it didn’t matter that he was a horrible person, she was horrible, for being so selfish. maybe it wouldn't have been an honest truth that came out of her mouth, but at least it was something that would've been nice for him to hear before he died. and that's what she'd been known for; for being selfless. how could she ever put herself above another? she didn't even have a purpose or right to live. she felt that she only existed to burden other people.

she would have nightmares of her mother dying in a terrible car crash, and she was standing there again, face blank, thinking about how she should have stopped ignoring her. she should have pushed through her discomfort and hate for the woman, knowing she was still human and deserved to be treated as much.

the entire dilemma stemmed from the guilt that had found its way into every corner and crevice of her heart and mind thanks to her parents. they were the cause of her guilt and the terrors that stemmed from them, but she didn't know how to stop that. to set boundaries, or not let their emotions affect her even if it was all a plot to get her to do what they wanted.

she was an all-or-nothing kind of person; never able to just be in the middle. she gave the entirety of her heart to one person or showed them no care at all. she could either go against every warning signal in her head and put up with her father and mother in order to not feel so bad about the fact that they were providing for her (despite it being their fucking job) or she could completely cut them off.

her mother actually cut her off first, to be fair.

but then she cut off her father the moment she graduated from high school. 

she found a place to stay in the next city over, her last message to him being a simple goodbye, without any details about where she went and if she’d ever be back (the answer was no).

and yet that hadn’t been a clear enough sign for him to back off. she had never been able to communicate that to him. whether it was because he chose to ignore her attempts to distance herself from him or because he couldn’t understand what she was doing, he never left her alone.

she woke up today with seven missed calls from an unknown number. it was one too many calls to be from anyone she wanted the call to be from. there was a pit of despair growing larger in her stomach, a bubble of fear taking up all the space in her lungs as her finger hovered over the voicemail button.

no one needed her that bad to call her so many times. if her patients need her, they knew to text her, or if they really needed to call them, there was no way they'd call seven times, right? she'd have to check her voicemail, just in case.

she only needed one second before she hit the end call button. 

the hum of an old broken fridge in the background, a kitchen chair he always brooded at, keeping her from ever venturing out of her room, the broken clearing of a man’s throat. it wasn't a patient. it was him.

she wanted to throw up.

she wanted to go back to sleep.

she wanted to give this day another try. to wake up, have a phone clear of any notifications, and to have a good day.

but she couldn’t.

it was all or nothing.

close her eyes and stay in bed or get up and do her job.

she couldn’t let other people define her days like this. she couldn’t let the single, most vague mention of her mother let her ruin the rest of her day, but how could she do that? it was all or nothing.

the sound of the door to her apartment closing brought her back to her senses.

akaashi had just left for the day, and she was the last one left in their place.

everyone else was out living their life, she needed to be out there too. she should be out there. she had a job to do. people to help, no matter if she needed help or not. what day was it even?

she squints at her phone, the screen reading 7:30 a.m. she'd skimmed over the clock initially, and she almost wished she stayed ignorant. she should’ve been at her office by now. if she was lucky she'd still get to her office before her first appointment and if she remembered correctly, her 8 a.m. had needed to reschedule their meeting today for a different time.

the final push that got her out of bed was the thought that she’d see him today. she wanted to see sakusa. she could try her hardest to have a good day if it meant getting to see him.

and it all starts with one foot out of bed.

when sakusa walks through the door, she looks more relieved to see him than he does to see her and he knows something is wrong. but she doesn't bring attention to the fact and he worries he might be overthinking it. maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with him, and is happy to see him. but, at the same time, everything about her posture says otherwise. her shoulders are too stiff and her knee is bouncing too much. normally, it's posed and whose foot hits the floor with anxious repetitiveness.

she was the grounding, calming force he tended to rely on but today it seemed that the roles had switched.

it wasn’t a bad thing, she had never been good at putting herself first, and he was sure that hadn’t changed even now.

“how was your week? i know we talked about a game you were worried about last week. did it go well? everything with your game and your coach?” she asks when he sits down. she gives him a casual smile but averts her eyes when he starts searching her face, trying to tell what's wrong. she’s not sure why he’s looking at her like that, as if he cares, but a small part of her is falling apart under his gaze. it’s the same part of her that’s loved him since the day they met. it’s the part of her that when they meet eyes, she feels a common burn between them.

“are you okay?” he asks, and she blinks, feeling like she's one word from falling apart.

“yeah, i’m fine!” she responds, maybe too cheery to appear normal. her other appointments today went smoothly enough, and she feel distracted from her own problems but also worse at the same time, considering she's spent the day listening to others' issues instead. she resists placing her computer on her lap, knowing she needs to bare his gaze straight on in order to get him off her back.

she can feel the weight of his eyes upon her, but he doesn’t keep pushing. she focuses completely on him, telling herself over and over not to let her guard down. it feels a little wrong of her to use the sensitive information her patients trust her with as a distraction from her own thoughts, but when it comes to sakusa, she think it has less to do with what he’s saying and more with the fact that he’s simply here in this room with her.

she wants to stand up, cross the room, sit on the couch with him, lean gently on his shoulder, not throwing her entire weight onto him, but just being in the slightest bit of contact with him.

would he let her touch him like that? or would he be disgusted? avoidant of her touch? weary of it? he had let her put her hand on his chest last time, but had that just been a special moment? maybe she had worsened since then, maybe he could see right through to her depressive state of mind and found it repulsive.

she had to close her eyes for a second and take a deep breath. she was getting too ahead of herself, allowing her head to demonize the man in front of her and making him seem like something he wasn’t. she hoped he didn’t hate her as much as she thought he did. they were in such a strange place right now, seeming to float between the relations of acquaintances, client and consultant, friends, and maybe something a little more.

“[y/n].”

the sound of her name made her eyes snap open, “yes? i’m so sorry, i promise i’m listening.” she had tried her best to provide some amount of advice and reiteration when she could, but he did most of the talking while she nodded along. she was paying attention but at the same time certainly letting her mind wander ever so often. she felt like a piece-of-shit-failure, sitting there across from him; silent, waiting for him to continue. she had no idea what he had just said before her name, obviously, so she couldn’t even try to pretend like she’d heard anything. she was a failure– it was as simple as that. nothing less, nothing more. a feeling of guilt and shame settled in her gut, making her feel nauseous on top of how heavy her head already felt.

“i didn’t say anything,” he replies and the negative, nauseating feeling inside of her spreads across her entire body, leaving her aching. it physically hurts, how heavy her mind feels. she shouldn’t have come to work today. she should have rescheduled appointments rather than being selfish. maybe she should have never started this career to begin with. “i just said i think it’s almost been an hour.”

she glances at the clock on her wall, and he’s right. their time is up, and for some reason that feels like the end of the world to her. “you’re completely right. i’m sorry, sakusa. i hope you still got something out of today’s session even though I was a little out of it. sorry about that, again– i promise i care and that i was trying to listen as best as i could…” she trails off, feeling like her excuse is meaningless. she should’ve left it at her apology. she couldn’t even say that she was listening as best as she could, only that she tried. and her trying wasn’t good enough. anything less than perfect felt wrong to her; like the worst possible outcome. if she wasn’t always putting her all into her work, how could she hope to help people? as always, she could only ever give people all or nothing. and in her field, she was responsible for making their mental and physical states better, she shouldn’t be so emotional at a time like this it was pathetic and wrong–

they’re standing at her door, and she’s holding it open for him as always. she’d spaced out again, waiting for him to leave so that she could close and lock the door and spend an hour on the floor crying before figuring out how to get home on her own without breaking down in public. but he hadn't left yet. he was stopped in front of her, she realizes. he's staring down at her and now she’s looking back up at him. some of his curls are falling in front of his eyes, and she wants to brush them away.

really, she wants to be in his arms. maybe that would make everything feel better.

but she doesn’t feel like she has the right to hug him anymore. their talk over text a few nights ago feels so far away, like who she was only a few nights ago is a completely different person from who she is now. she doesn’t know who she is, she just feels like a soulless body. she wishes she could go back in time, so many years ago when things weren’t much easier, but at least she still had him. if she could go back in time, she never would have left him. she wishes she could tear her heart out, put up with her father, and never have let him ruin her entire life.

“do you need anything?” he asks softly because he’s not sure how else to word it. what he wants to say, the four simple words “i care about you” get lodged in his throat because, for some reason, it's easier for him to confess almost his entire heart to her behind a screen. so he settles for this question instead, leaving it open, for however she wants to interpret and respond to it.

“no,” she lies. she knows she can ask for help, but she can’t, she can't let herself. “i’m okay, thank you. i’m sure you have other things to do today. don’t let me hold you up.” she’s staring at his jacket now, waiting to watch it start to move, but it doesn't. he doesn’t even move an inch after her answer.

“i don’t have anything else going on today. i want to be there for you.” his voice sounds like everything she could ever wish for. he sounds like the person she spent nights crying to whatever heavenly body resided above, asking them to give her someone, anyone to come into her life and love her.

“you’re my last patient for the day,” she finds herself saying. she never was able to resist him much, “i have to close up, but if you want to go somewhere afterwards, you can wait for me, but only if you want to.”

“i’ll wait,” he agrees. “i’ll wait for you. i want to.”

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extras <3

hi! :3

this chapter was started all the way back in September wow!!!

the tea gossipers have each other's locations

so you best believe they're about to check y/n's location and see she's going out somewhere after work

and together, the three men will piece together what's going on

that's for next chapter

or the chapter after that

next chapter soon!!!

two chapters left <3

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