#satanic panic is back WE are so fucking back

[ciricegh0st]

this is yalls leader of a satanic band that's making you shit your pants and protesting???

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Desire, I'm Hungry

Summary: You and Steve happen upon a strange flower and suddenly find yourselves separated from your friends in the Upside Down. An unrelenting desire overtakes the both of you, taking your friendship past the point of no return.

CW: Porn with plot. Sex pollen (so this could be considered forced intimacy). Underlying idiots in love. Mutual pining. AFAB Reader. Steve's canon S4 injuries. Steve's a little mean. Fluff ending. Biting. Blood. Fingering. Makeshift gag. Unprotected P in V. Reader has a vagina. Small breeding kink (it is Steve, after all). Creampie.

This one would not leave my brain until I got it out! Enjoy!

WC: 10.4K

In all the years you had come to know Steve Harrington it had its ups and downs. Being his best friend came with firsthand experience with all things Upside Down that ultimately led you into some pretty precarious situations.

Demogorgans, demo-dogs, Russians and a monster composed solely of melted people were the least of your worries because HE had always been there.

Until this very moment you saw him as untouchable. An invincible protector, the one person who came when you needed to be saved, not the person who needed saving.

He'd reached for your hand in desperation as he disappeared under Lover's Lake. The tips of his fingers slipped through yours, leaving you grasping and screaming out in panic and shock.

“Steve! No, no, no, no!” You scrambled next to Robin, pulling off your jacket about to jump in when she suddenly caught your wrist.

“Hey Y/N! No! You can't just jump in there!” She yelled. Before you could get a word of protest out, you heard Eddie yell behind you.

“Woah, Wheeler you're not going in there, are you?”

“Just wait here.” She replied, briefly cutting her eyes to you before the sound of splashing water drew your attention.

“Holy shit,” Robin breathed out, clutching a hand over her mouth.

“Robin, we can't stay here. Not with both of them down there! Let's go!” Reaching out to her, as you turned back to look at the metalhead. “Eddie?”

“What? No. You can't go. What the fuck man!” He wailed. “She said wait.”

“Yeah, we heard her.” Robin finally nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you both leapt from the boat.

-

You'd never been a strong swimmer, even with all the summers spent by the Harrington's pool. Much more interested in getting some sun instead of swimming laps.

Only now you were regretting never listening to the boy when he tried to give you those life preserving pointers, as you swam to the pulsating gate beneath Lover's Lake. Your lungs were on fire by the time you made it to the opening, Robin extending her hand to help you through.

Eddie surprisingly followed a moment after, while you were still trying to catch your breath.

Suddenly, ear splitting screeching noises and Nancy's voice pulled your focus in time to see Satan’s own flying hell spawn attacking Steve on the ground, as she attempted to fight them off.

“Oh my God! We have to help them!” You shouted, taking off in a sprint toward your friends, Eddie and Robin hot on your heels. All regard for your own safety was quickly forgotten.

A weapon was the furthest thing from your mind but as you drew closer, you realized just how dire the situation appeared.

Steve was being strangled by one of the creatures, with its tail wrapped around his neck and another making a meal of him. Nancy had successfully pried one off and was in the midst of fighting it back.

“Steve! Just hang on!” You shouted, stomping a foot down directly on this thing's back as it shrieked out in pain releasing its jaw from his side, immediately turning its attention toward you.

“Oh fuck.” You hissed, as it leapt up taking flight. You turned to run but Robin was right there with an oar.

You ducked as she bashed into this thing, splintering the wood as it fell to the ground. Rushing over you began to stomp on it repeatedly until it stopped moving.

You all turned in time to see Steve holding this creature by the tail and whip it around hitting the ground until it lost consciousness. Stepping on it with his bare foot and pulling until he ripped it apart with his bare hands.

“Fuck,” you huffed, stunned. He was bloodied and bruised, as he spit blood from his mouth, but he was alive.

Robin leaned over slightly, whispering low enough for only you to hear.

“Might want to pick your jaw up off the floor.”

You shut your mouth and shot her a sideways glance, as she snickered.

The joy of a victory was short lived as you rushed over to Steve’s side.

‘Steve, are you okay?” Suddenly hurdling yourself into his chest with a thud as he grunted out, throwing your arms around his neck as he wound his around your back, holding a little too tightly and maybe a few seconds too long before letting go to give you a proper answer.

“Well,” Looking down at his torso, when you stepped back. “They took about a pound of flesh. But, other than that, yeah, never better.”

Robin began ranting about rabies, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Steve as your own set of worries began to seep in. Completely lost on the conversation around you until you heard Nancy yell.

“The woods. Come on!”

“Y/N, c’mon!” Steve frantically tugged at your arm before you all made a run for cover.

You were huddled under skull rock pressed in like sardines, waiting with bated breath until the bats finally dispersed.

Everyone grumbled, and voiced concerns as you stood. Steve took a few uneasy steps before he fell against the rocky surface opposite of you.

“Oh shit,” coming out on a shaky exhale, as he tried to upright himself.

“Steve?” Your head whipped around as you stepped into his space, reaching out to help steady him.

“I'm fine. I'm fine.” He huffed out, still a little dazed.

“No, no you're not. You're bleeding. Sit down.” Worrying over him.

He slid down, as you knelt in front of him, guiding his wrist to take his hand away from his oozing wound. Nancy began to tear the bottom of her shirt, quickly handing you the fabric.

Robin started rambling about rabies again before you glared at her.

“Rob, not helping!” You hissed before she mumbled an apology and backed away from the two of you.

“You ready?” Asking him as he looked down at you, poised with his makeshift bandage.

“Yeah, just do it.” He pinched his eyes closed, bracing himself, wincing once you pulled it taut against his abdomen and began wrapping.

���Too tight?” Chancing a glance up at him but he was already staring down at you, with a scowl plastered across his features.

“Why the hell are you down here?” He suddenly blurted out.

“What the hell do you mean? We all jumped in for you.” His question genuinely bewildered you, eyes drifting back down, concentrating on the task at hand. Wouldn't he do the same for any of you?

“You should have stayed in the boat. Like I told you to.” He chides.

You work to finish covering his wounds, ignoring the sting of his words. Scolding you as if you were a petulant child who didn't listen to their father.

“A thank you would be nice.” Mumbling out as he winced when you tightened it to begin tying it off.

“A thank you?” Scoffing down at you. “Well instead of me dying, now we all might die. Don't you get that? Jesus, Y/N you don't lis— Fuck!” He hissed out.

You made sure to pull the last knot even tighter, effectively cutting off the rest of his little tirade.

“Oops.” You smirked, finally standing and stepping away from him.

You were drenched and cold, suddenly all too aware of your grim situation. You sure as hell didn't need a lecture from him right now after saving his ass.

“Fuck off Steve! We were all trying to save you!” You shouted, leaving the rest of the crew to stare around awkwardly, shifting gazes amongst each other.

“I didn't need to be saved! You should have stayed on the fucking boat!” He yelled back.

“Hey, guys,” Nancy cleared her throat, trying to break the tension between the two of you before it got any worse.

“What?!” Shouting in unison, turning your heads to look over at her.

“Maybe we should get going, yeah? And uh… stay a little quieter?” Her eyes drifted to the treetops overhead, scanning a moment.

You'd both been so fixated on the other, the horrors of the upside down had slipped your minds. She was right, you were trying to avoid attention, not bring it directly on top of you.

“Let's all just calm down and get through this together.” She hummed, satisfied with your nods of agreement taking off ahead of you once more as Robin followed.

Eddie's wide eyes met yours and then Steve's.

“Right, I should, uh…” he said, thumb pointed in their direction. “But uh, here.” Shrugging his vest off before forcefully tossing it toward Steve's chest.

“For your modesty dude.” Smirking before he darted away to follow after the girls.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, voice coming out quieter this time but still laced with annoyance.

“C’mon. Just stay close and don't wander off.” Before taking a few steps to catch up to Eddie.

“Don't wander off.” Mocking under your breath, staying a few paces behind, not wanting to be near your ungrateful so-called best friend.

The forest got darker the further you went. It felt like eyes were on you the entire time. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled and uneasy, closing the gap between yourself and the boys.

You were close enough now to catch bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, more Eddie talking than not. You knew Steve well enough that he was still brooding about the entire situation. He didn't hate you, quite the opposite. His harsh tone only masks his own worries and fears.

You caught him more than once glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were never too far away.

“Dustin… said I was badass?”

“Oh yeah. Shit. Kid WORSHIPS you, man. Like, you got no idea. It's rather annoying to be honest.”

You smirked at that. Dustin never told Steve anything like that, coming off as an annoying little brother all the time.

“Those ladies jumped in after you and I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Wheeler there, she didn’t waste a second. I mean not a split second. She just dove right in. I don’t know what happened between you two, but… I’d get her back, man. Whatever it takes. ‘Cause that… that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve stops at Eddie's spiel, looking over his shoulder once more, as you roll your eyes. Of course it was always about Nancy. The one that got away. Not like you tried to dive in first, right? Eddie was too freaked out to notice back there.

Before Steve had the chance to respond the ground began to shake once more, as everyone tried to hang on. You lost your footing, tripping over a stump and thankfully not landing on one of those damn vines, losing sight of everyone behind an overgrown thatch of bushes.

The rumbling slowed to a dull roar just as something caught your eye in a small clearing up ahead, emanating a small bluish-purple glow through the trees ahead. It was faint but while everything in the Upside Down was muted and dull it stuck out like a sore thumb.

As if it was pulling you in, you stumbled forward, quickly righting yourself and heading toward it. It was pulsing slightly; a steady, slow rhythm like a heartbeat.

You stopped at the center of the clearing, as you stepped closer, you realized it was a flower or at least flower shaped. Something akin to a Dahlia back home but it was a glowing azure color, petals almost transparent.

There were a few unopened buds that were also pulsing. The closed pods thumped, not taking notice of the way the pulses quickened as you stepped closer.

Your mind was clouded as you watched them. Beauty in a barren landscape, so mesmerizing you didn't hear Steve calling out for you.

As if on autopilot, your hand began to drift toward it as he jogged up beside you.

“Hey, did you not hear me calling for you? What're y—” He trailed off, feeling helpless watching your fingertips graze the pod as he tried to yank you back, but it was too late.

You were both too close when the thing practically exploded open, releasing a cloud of pearlescent powder into the space between you.

The dust landed on everything in a five-foot radius, as it invaded your lungs causing you both to choke on what you could only think of as its pollen. He grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you away.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in between coughs and a few sneezes.

“I don't…” before you could properly form a response, screeching could be heard from overhead once more.

“Shit!” He hissed, before shouting back to the others to run for it. The hive mind. Everything was connected down here, it only made sense the flowers were too. The flying bats were back.

You and Steve took off the opposite way that you entered the clearing, dodging vines and low hanging branches in the process. He was trying to slow down so you could keep up.

“C’mon y/n. I think I see a building up ahead!” He shouted.

It was a dilapidated looking cabin, but it would have to do, as he took the steps two at a time reaching the porch with you right behind him.

He barreled through the door, thankful it wasn't locked as you rushed past him, slamming it shut in time to see some of the creatures flying low, unsure if they'd spotted you.

His hands quickly moved to the deadbolt, looking around the small space grabbing a chair, wedging it under the door handle.

You both stood there a moment facing the door, trying to catch your breath as a loud thump echoed overhead as it landed on the roof. It let out an ear-piercing screech that had you covering your ears. Steve hovered his finger over his lips as a shushing motion as a few more thuds and mirrored screeches followed.

He was trying to think, shining the flashlight this way and that, finding an open door near the edge of the kitchen, spotting a set of stairs that were leading down.

He quietly shuffled over to it, shining his beam ahead. It looked like it led to a small basement or at least a root cellar, as he nodded for you to follow as he began his descent.

You sighed, but reluctantly walked over as quietly as possible and trailed behind him, closing the door softly behind you. There was no lock, but it did latch shut.

It was dark, the only light emanating from his flashlight, as he shined it back to the stairs for you to climb down.

“I think we'll be safer down here.” He whispered. “There's a cot over there.” Pointing to the corner.

It was a small room. No other outlet, looking more like a bunker than a cellar. Shelves lined the wall with food and various supplies. At least you were covered if you had to stay a while but hoped it wouldn't come to that.

“Steve,” You began but he immediately cut you off holding his hand up.

“If you hadn't gotten distracted, we wouldn't be in this situation.” His voice is a little louder, but still barely above a whisper.

“It's not my fault Steve, I saw something glowing, like it was pulling me in. You didn't have to fucking follow me!” You knew he was right, but you were feeling attacked.

“Yeah, I did. I'm not leaving anyone behind in this fucking place. Even if you can't follow simple directions.” He huffs, throwing a hand to his hip as he surveyed the room. “Not enough you get us separated, but you have to go and touch that weird ass flower. God knows what the hell that shits going to do to us.”

He was venting more than yelling toward you at this point, frustrated with the entire situation.

“You knew you weren't supposed to touch shit… that hive mind…”

“Steve.”

He continued to mumble over in the corner, with his back turned, throwing his hands around in dramatic fashion.

“But no! You touch it and now we're contaminated…”

“Steve!” Hissing out more forcefully, finally knocking him from his train of thought and little rant.

“What?!” He spun around, throwing the beam from his flashlight directly in your face. “What Y/N?”

You threw a hand up shielding your eyes with a grimace before he quickly lowered it, mumbling an apology.

“Can you just stop pacing? It's not helping anything. You're just giving me a headache.” You grumbled, sitting down on the cot. It slightly squeaked under your newly added weight, as your elbows landed on your knees, bringing your hands to cover your face with a groan.

“You're giving me a headache…” he mumbled slightly under his breath, but you still caught it. He found a small chair in the opposite corner, plopping down with a sigh.

After about ten minutes of total silence, you laid back on the cot, unwilling to give him any more attention. Though he continued to mutter under his breath occasionally, you ignored him.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up. “I'm going to give it a few more minutes and see if they're still on the roof. Maybe we can make a break for Nance’s place and regroup.”

“Yeah, fine.” Huffing a reply with an eye roll.

It was then you noticed a strange tingling on the skin around your neck, kind of like a cold chill. Shaking your head as you sit up, to rub the back of your neck.

“You ok?” He asked, watching intently.

“Fine. Just… a chill.” You shrugged, as he nodded.

Another drawn out silence before either of you attempt to speak.

“Hey, are you… do you feel itchy?” He asked, scratching his exposed shoulder.

“Um, well now that you mention it, yeah. This spot on my neck is itchy.” Your hand absentmindedly reached up, scratching at it again.

“It's that damn flower. I knew it!” He exclaimed, standing up. “Look, we need to see if we can get out of here.”

You watched him carefully retreat up the stairs, his footsteps creaking across the floorboards above your head, stopping for a few moments before making their way back over to the door as he came back into view.

“Ok, looks like we might be here for a while. They're still moving around up there, and when I looked out the window there's a few in the surrounding trees.” He slid back down into the chair, spreading out as much as he could to make himself comfortable.

“Fuck, isn't that just great?” You huffed out, taking your turn to pace the small room. Was it getting hot in here? A bead of sweat rolled down your back. When did it get so muggy?

“Just calm down, we'll get out of here. Okay?” He sounded so sure of himself; you almost believed him.

You sat back down, stretching your legs out onto the cot and finally laying back. The situation was looking bleak, your own mind filling with anxious stress. At least Steve’s here. You don’t have to die alone.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, wiping his brow several times before finally rolling your head toward his direction.

The vest Eddie gave him hung open, revealing his chest, the thick smattering of hair slick and matted down. Was he sweating too? His toned chest moving up and down, a steady rhythm with each breath he took. His head was leaned back on the wall behind him, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You pulled your lip between your teeth, before letting go as he picked his head up looking at you as if he could feel your eyes on him. You didn't look away, holding his gaze.

“Steve?” You finally asked.

“Yeah?” His eyes shift away from your face, trailing down your body before looking back up as his tongue darted out wetting his parched lips.

“Is it hot in here?” Sitting up, fanning yourself. “I feel like I'm burning up.”

“Yeah… yeah, no. I thought it was just me.” Letting out a sigh. “It could be the close quarters, but I don't think we should go upstairs yet.”

“No, yeah. You're right.” You laid back down, eyes to the ceiling. You could ignore the heat if it meant survival for at least a bit longer.

He turned the light off a little while later, trying to conserve what little battery life it had left.

At some point you drifted off to sleep because you were roused by him touching your arm. It felt like ice touching your flushed skin as you sat straight up trying to catch your bearings.

“Hey! Woah, it's just me.” He soothed, as you flinched away from his unusual cold touch. He pulled his hands back, giving you some space. “I wanted to check on you. I don't think it's hot down here. I think it's us.”

You felt dizzy sitting all the way up, throwing the back of your hand to your forehead. You were on fire. Your nearly dry clothes were sticking to the dampness of your flushed skin, making you cringe. There was also an overwhelming feeling of an unquenchable thirst in the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Steve. I really did it this time.” You folded over yourself, head in your hands, groaning at the way you almost felt drunk or drugged, wondering if he felt as bad as you did.

“No, hey. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I’m the reason we’re in this situation.” You moved your head to look up at him, willing your bleary eyes to focus. A thin sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, hair sticking against his forehead. His eyes are what caught your attention the most.

His usual golden flaked, honey hued irises were a mere fraction of a ring around a black abyss. This pollen was affecting him the same, he just had a better poker face but he couldn't control the truth his eyes showed you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, as you sat there unblinking.

“Yeah, I…” Shaking your head to look away. “Yeah, no. I don't fucking know right now.”

He shuffled over to one of the shelves looking for some water or anything to help alleviate your symptoms. Pausing for a moment, wondering if anything could be trusted from the Upside Down but there wasn't anything of value he could find in any case.

“Fuck!” He hissed, turning back around.

“Steve, it's ok.” You croaked out. “Just sit down.” You patted the small space beside you on the cot as you scooted over. He hung his head and skirted back over, sitting down carefully trying not to touch you.

_

He didn't want to tell you that while you were sleeping this overwhelming urge started to come over him. An ache low in his belly, and groin. It started out dull but began to grow, radiating through him as a spiked sense of arousal began thrumming through his veins.

Shame began to wash over him. How could he be so turned on at a time like this? A few more minutes passed when he was hit with the most intoxicating scent. It was faint at first. When he took in another heavy exhale it invaded his nostrils and filled his lungs.

He didn't understand where it was coming from, but he felt light, almost high, as he continued to breathe in and out, letting it wash over him. He could only describe it as a familiar, yet exotic thing, wrapping him up in a warm hug. It was almost irresistible, in the way a bakery or candy shop lures you in with promises that, yes it tastes just as good as it smells.

He turned the light back on, shining it toward your still sleeping form, shifting his hooded and heavy eyes over you stretched out on the small cot. There wasn't much skin showing, aside from your exposed arms but then you turned toward him as your shirt rose up slightly, exposing a sliver along your hip that suddenly had him drooling.

He felt his cock stir in his pants, with an ache that was suddenly all consuming. He hadn't realized when he'd gotten up, but he was suddenly standing over you, reaching out, fingertips grazing your arm.

You stirred slightly, as he watched your lips part with a soft breath settling back down.

He placed his palm to your arm, fingers wrapping around your soft, pliable flesh and an instant feeling of relief flooded his senses but then you'd woken, startling him out of this sudden trance.

-

You stretched and yawned beside him, shedding the last bits of slumber from your small nap. You couldn't have been out long, but you were so tired and thirsty.

Had he been awake the whole time? A sudden pang of guilt overtook you at the thought.

“If you need a nap, I'll move so you can take the cot.” Saying as you slowly stood, stiff on unsure legs, as you swayed just a bit plopping back down, your arm brushing his. It was brief but the feeling was cool against the searing heat radiating from you.

“Woah, just take it easy, yeah?” He turned toward you, hands at the ready but just hovering. He didn't trust himself right now.

“How… how are you so cold? Your skin, I mean? I thought you were hot too?”

“I am, look at me. I'm fucking sweating.” He gestured toward himself, a thin sheen of sweat still covering his face and body.

“Can I…” You couldn't get the question out before your hand was already reaching up, suddenly gripping his wrist.

Your brain is flooded with endorphins. A dopamine hit that had you suddenly searching for more. Your eyes closed at the contact, missing the way Steve’s mouth parted slightly releasing a shuddered breath.

As if you had no control of your body, your other hand moved up, planting itself firmly on Steve's chest, eliciting a small whimper from him that made your eyes shoot back open.

“Do you feel that?” You asked, watching his eyes flutter closed. All he could do was nod, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You moved his wrist up, as he opened his hand, already anticipating what you were thinking, as you placed his palm to your chest.

“Oh my God,” it slipped out, almost a moan more than words. His hand immediately soothing the patch of exposed skin that had your eyelids lazily closing once more.

“It feels so good, Steve.” You breathed out.

Your words were doing nothing to quell his ever-growing arousal. He took in a heavy breath and there it was. That overpowering aroma was suddenly surrounding him once more, too heavy to ignore.

It was you.

When you opened your heavy-lidded eyes, the pupils were blown wide, full of lust and desire. Your lips parted slightly, releasing a small exhale you had been holding. All he wanted to do was lean in and press his lips to yours, letting his tongue explore and taste all that you had to offer.

“No.” He hissed out, jumping up and stumbling back, putting a little space between the two of you.

“What? What's wrong?” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact.

“This. This isn't… Jesus!” He whispered out, trying to maintain his composure. “Can't you see what's happening? It's the goddamn flower, that powder. It's making us… whatever this is.” Gesturing between the two of you.

Of course he had an attraction to you. He'd been harboring, what he thought, were unrequited feelings for the better part of two years.

“Yeah, I know, but it feels so good when you touch me, Steve.” Your voice was dripping with seduction, even if you hadn't meant it that way. Your head was getting all fuzzy again, swaying a little.

“Goddamnit, we need to get out of here.” He hissed, wiping his forehead. “I'm checking upstairs again.”

You watched him go, leaning back on the small cot once more.

Aside from the dizziness, there was something stirring just under your skin. An itch you couldn't quite scratch, a buzz or a hum starting at the base of your neck, traveling down your spine sending a sudden spark to your lower abdomen like when you were… Oh God. Your legs closed as if by their own volition when that spark suddenly had your core clenching around nothing just as he descended back down the stairs.

“I think we're almost in the clear. The ones in the trees are gone and… hey, are you okay?” Finally noticing the almost pained expression etched across your face.

“I… I'm… Steve, what the hell is wrong with us?” You sat up quickly, getting to your feet with a gentle sway. He didn't think this time reaching for you.

His touch both soothed and electrified you. Cooling hands on hot skin but an even hotter feeling pooling between your thighs, making a small whimper escape you.

He closed his eyes as your cheek hit his chest. He was trying to think of something, anything else other than the way you felt against him.

You inhaled deeply, his woodsy musk surrounding you entirely. It was illogical. You'd both been in the lake and running through the woods, yet his scent was mouth watering.

“God, Steve, you smell so good.” You murmured, feeling intoxicated, grabbing onto Eddie's vest with clenched fists.

“Yeah, s—so do you.” Dropping his hands to rest on your hips, your head lifting at his admission.

“Yeah?” You asked, almost breathless. He nods, licking his lips, your eyes landing there as your hands slip under the vest smoothing over his chest, the coarse hair tickling your palms as a shiver ran down his spine.

It's like you couldn't stop yourself, stepping closer into his space as his grip on you tightened, pulling you fully into him, your lower stomach meeting his hips.

“Steve?” Asking as you inch forward, calves beginning to strain as you stand on the tips of your toes.

“Yeah?” He asks, holding his breath.

“I really want to kiss you.”

No sooner than the statement left your lips, he surged forward closing the gap.

Parched from the day's activities left his usual plush, soft looking lips chapped and dry but you didn't mind.

An immediate feeling of relief washed over you. It was like finding an oasis in the desert, drinking the taste of him down, briefly quenching that immeasurable thirst.

He tilted his head, bringing his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as his nose pressed further into your cheek. You worked in tandem until his tongue dared to slip out, silently begging for permission.

You parted your lips with a soft moan as they met, slowly circling and entangling but you were hungry for more. Your hand slid up his chest and wound around the nape of his neck, finding his usual soft strands of hair, dirty and matted, pulling on the ends before pulling him closer, earning you a moan that you eagerly swallowed down.

The hand on your hip traveled south, snaking its way to the fat of your ass, suddenly groping and kneading your pliant flesh through your jeans pushing you further into him. His now very prominent hard cock pressed into the softness of your lower abdomen, taking you by surprise when you felt it twitch between you as he groaned.

At some point the two of you had begun moving, only realizing it when your back hit the far wall, knocking you from your trance. Your lips separated but still momentarily connected by a thin string of saliva as you pant into each other's mouths.

“Fuck, I need you, Steve.” You hissed out, pushing at the shoulders of the denim vest he still wore.

“Wait,” A moment of clarity for him, grabbing your wrists to halt your movements making you pout, as he looked around the dingy, cobweb infested space.

“Shit I— we can't do that down here.”

“Why not?” Asking, as your lower lip jutted out, eyebrows crinkling. The ache in your lower abdomen was getting worse, your clit was throbbing, practically begging for any kind of stimulation.

He shouldn't have looked at you. Your eyes were glossy in the dim light, looking as if tears were about to roll down your cheeks. He wasn't any better off. His cock was throbbing painfully against his pants, a wet patch of precum visible where his head laid.

“Goddamnit!” He hissed, pausing for a deep breath, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Because I don't want the first time with you to be on a filthy basement cot in the upside down!”

You couldn't help the grin that lifted the edges of your lips into a smirk, as you continued to stare at his bared throat. Wondering for a moment what it would be like to sink your teeth into him. This deep primal hunger was overpowering your senses, overtaking any other basic needs.

“Fuck me upstairs then.” You blurted out.

“Wh—what?” As if he'd misheard you, whipping his head back down.

“I said,” leaning closer to him. “Fuck. Me. Upstairs. There's a bed up there.” You nip at his nose and giggle when he pulls back, grip moving, holding firm to your shoulders.

When it disbursed, you had taken the brunt of the pollen, if you could even call it that, apparently it was affecting you more severely, unable to concentrate on anything else for more than a few seconds at a time.

“We can't— you— don't know what you're saying, and those things are still up there.”

“Stevie, please?” Your voice drips with desire, sultry and sweet. Looking up at him with your best doe eyes had all manner of his resolve quickly fading.

“I can be quiet. I promise.” You whispered with a pout, as your fingertips dance along his exposed chest. “What're friends for, Stevie? We need to help each other out.”

“Fuck,” he groans, slipping his hand into yours, turning without saying another word to grab the flashlight pulling you along. He wasn't going to be able to hold out, suddenly driven by the unwavering need in his pants, it seemed better to give in to your advances than try to fight them. Your sweet tone, seemingly needing him just as much as he needs you, he couldn't resist.

His mind was flooded with the vivid image of how your tight cunt would feel wrapped around his shaft, he quickly ascended the stairs looking back once holding his finger to his lips when he reached the door, easing it open. The rush of cooler air hit you as soon as the door opened for a small reprieve.

“I'm going to check out the windows, go down the hall. Quietly.” Nodding toward the right. “The first door on the left has a bed and no windows.”

You nod your understanding as he lets go of your hand, letting you go your separate ways. Tiptoeing down the hall, it was quiet, aside from the errant clap of thunder that echoed through the walls every thirty seconds or so.

The room had been exactly where he had explained. It seemed small, but the only light filtered in from the hall, illuminating only a portion of the bed. As your eyes adjusted, the bed came more into view, a little dusty but bigger than the cot downstairs.

You threw the quilt back, revealing surprisingly pristine sheets underneath. You decided to discard your muddy, lake soaked shoes as he came into view.

He had turned his light off, a silhouette of broad shoulders illuminated against a dusky red backdrop as another bolt of lightning split the sky outside. He stood there lingering in the doorway, eyes briefly running over your form. Your breath hitched in your throat drinking him in when he finally took a few steps forward.

He stood before you without saying a word, quickly finding your hips and wasting no time pulling you flush against him once more as you let out a small squeak of surprise bracing yourself against his chest.

“Steve, I—”

You were quickly cut off when he sealed his lips over yours. His intoxicating scent once again surrounded you as your brain began to shut off, driven only by your primal desires.

Your hand trailed down his abdomen, fingertips grazing his bandages finding the exposed skin low by his waistband. He shuddered at your soft, lingering touch. Going lower still, he hisses and pulls back from your kiss as you palm at his erection over his pants.

It felt like you were on autopilot. The only thought in the forefront of your mind was the overpowering need for relief. The need to be as close as possible.

He was taken by surprise when you grabbed the lapels of his vest and quickly pulled him around. The back of his knees hit the bed, as he fell rather ungracefully.

The springs groaned under the sudden pressure of his added weight as he let out a grunt, uttering a “shit,” under his breath.

You quickly straddled his legs, giving him no time for protest, crawling up and sitting flush on his bulge trying to be mindful of those raw wounds fresh on his sides.

A chorus of expletives left both of your lips the moment your hips grind down searching for friction with your hands pressing firmly to his chest holding him in place. Your aching clit gets some relief, the stiff denim pressing into you sliding down the rigid length of him and back up. A fresh wave of arousal flooding from your core adding to your already ruined panties.

In any other circumstances, you would feel embarrassed rutting up against your best friend like a wild animal in heat, but seeking out and taking what you needed was first and foremost.

You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I could eat you up.” You whisper, lips grazing just below his ear, teeth nipping at his sensitive skin before your tongue rolls out, languidly licking at his jugular, his pulse thumping wildly against your muscle.

You whine, relishing the salty, earthy and coppery mixture as it settles along your taste buds, feeling him shutter beneath you taking a ragged breath only adding to your desire.

His hands find the plush of your hips, pulling you down to meet an upward thrust that has you leaning back up and moaning out without any regard for his earlier warnings and your promise.

His eyes shot up to you, barely illuminated in the dim light but you were a sight to see.

Your head is thrown back as if you were already in the throes of heady pleasure. Your mouth hung open slightly, another breathy wine escaping as you dragged your hips against his cock once more. Any and all of what was left of his will power was gone. His imagination ran rampant with the thought of you coming undone, falling apart only for him.

In one swift motion, he bucked his hips, gaining momentum to flip you over. Your back hits the mattress, making you gasp sharply as he seated himself between your parted thighs.

Your eyes go wide with surprise when his hand quickly shoots to your mouth, his large palm stifling your sounds.

Leaning further into your space, his lips ghost the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“I'm going to give you what you want but you've got to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, fisting the vest in your hands, letting out a small whimper as he slowly took his hand away.

“Use your words, honey.” He scolded.

“Yes, I– I can be quiet.” You breathed out, beginning to feel faint.

“Good girl.” He purred, his words sending your mind into overdrive.

You pawed at his chest, pushing the denim at his shoulders. He sat up, finally pulling it free from his body and tossing it across the room. Your hands roam across the expanse of his chest and broad shoulders.

He reached the hem of your shirt, fingers skirting up your tummy, cool fingertips sending goosebumps across your flesh. You nodded as his eyes caught yours before he quickly pulled it over your head.

He sucked in a sharp breath, watching intently as your chest rose, pushing your breasts against the cups of your bra with each steady inhale, threatening to spill out all on their own before you reached behind, deftly unclasping it and lifting it away.

“Fuck, honey.” His eyes go dark, one of his large hands immediately finding its way to your soft skin. His calloused palm engulfing you as he kneads timidly, at first. You keen into his touch, arching upward, searching for more.

His mouth meets your pert nipple on the other side, swirling his tongue and roughly squeezing the breast under his palm. He nips at the taut bud as if testing the waters, teeth grazing before applying more pressure and immediately soothing the mild sting, laving the wet muscle back across your skin.

To keep from crying out, you bite down on your lip, whimpering as his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure down your body, shooting straight to your core.

He pulls off of you with an audible pop, eyes darting to your face when he feels you trying to push his pants down.

“Please, Steve. I need you! I can't wait.” You hiss out, still trying to maintain a whisper but the longer this keeps getting drawn out the more desperate you become, aching to be filled. An ache that was growing so strong it was boarding on painful.

Dipping your way past his waistband just a moment later, he shudders when your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft, wrapping your hand around his girthy cock.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his own sounds as you stroke up and back down at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your thumb finds his head, a steady stream of precum already leaking from the tip, swirling your digit in the mess was almost too much as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your mouth fell agape with a silent gasp, a cry caught in your throat as your other hand flew to the back of his head, fingers digging into his locks and tugging harshly. He quickly unhinges his jaw, peppering kisses where his teeth had just been.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles out, pulling back and swatting your hands away from his pants as he sits up.

Your thighs go slack, as he blindly pops the button on your jeans, pulling the zipper down harshly, digging into the denim waistband before you lift your hips aiding in him hastily tugging them and your panties down your legs.

He tosses them somewhere behind him, before standing up and shedding his own pants and boxers, letting them unceremoniously pool at his feet.

Your eyes quickly rove over as much of his naked body as the dim lighting would allow, licking your lips. His cock was standing at full attention, curved slightly upward as he wrapped his own hand around it, pumping it lightly a few times.

His knees find the mattress, planting his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart to accommodate his frame.

Pausing a moment to appreciate the site before him, his fingertips trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to where you yearn for him the most. You let out a small yelp of surprise when he tightened his grip and pulled you toward him.

“Steve,” you plead, as he ghosts over your slick lips, his thumb and forefinger spread you apart with a sticky release before he finally presses his thumb pad down onto your puffy clit making your hips buck up.

Sensing your urgent need, his finger begins to tease your aching hole, your arousal drips out, as he finally dips in, your hips rising up in time to push his digit further in.

Your head falls back into the pillow, the hand at your hip pushes you flush against the mattress holding you there as he pumps in and out of your tight pussy, quickly adding a second finger to help stretch you out.

“I can smell your needy cunt.” He hisses, practically salivating. Both of your pheromones were in overdrive, your scent wafting through the air like honey, luring him in. A feast begging to be devoured. “I bet you taste just as sweet.”

His words mixed with his current ministrations left you teetering on the edge, his digits stroke up, finding that sweet spot along your frontal wall and just when you were about to fall apart, it suddenly disappeared. Feeling as though it was subdued by some unseen force, leaving you whimpering and unsatisfied, as tears spring to your eyes in frustration.

“Steve, I— it's not working, I need more.” You huff out. It was then you noticed he was fisting his cock, searching for his own release alongside you.

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” He let out a little breathless. “It's not working f’me either.”

You immediately mourn the loss as his fingers slip from you before he promptly shoves them past his lips, humming around the taste, the potent elixir bursting on contact with his taste buds flooding his senses, igniting his insatiable hunger even further.

“Jesus Christ, I fuckin’ knew it.” His pupils dilate, high on the taste of you, a drug he suddenly realized he'll never be able to fully detox from.

He grips the base of his cock with one hand, leaning over and lining himself up with your soaked entrance, pressing the tip in, feeling your gummy walls start to mold around him, as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Please.” It was a breathy thing, as your muscles instinctually constricted around the welcome intrusion.

He groans, unable to hold himself back any further, snapping his hips and burying himself in one fluid motion. Your pussy gives little resistance between how wet you are and the unrelenting desire to be completely filled.

“Oh God!” Biting back another loud moan being ripped from your chest, digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood this time, as his thick cock splits you open.

There was a slight burn, as he sat snugly inside your tight channel that quickly gave way to overwhelming pleasure when he pulled back, withdrawing almost completely leaving just his leaking tip before plunging back in, somehow feeling deeper than before.

You muffle your cries the best you can, as he begins to set a near brutal pace. Every thrust pulling little ah, ah, ahs past your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the fat of his ass pushing him further into you.

He hisses and stills when your legs gripping a little too tight, pull his focus from fucking you to the searing pain at his sides. The wounds had been forgotten from the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” It was enough to knock you from your lust fueled haze momentarily as he pulled out.

“Flip over.” He grunts.

“Wha—” A sharp smack to the side of your thigh has the words dying on your tongue with a gasp.

“Flip. Over.” Repeating himself a little more forcefully. The soft boy next door being replaced with a rougher version, that suddenly had your pussy clenching around nothing at his harsh demeanor.

You rolled onto your stomach, as his hands came to grip your hips with a bruising force, pulling your ass up.

He wastes no time shoving his throbbing length back between your glistening lips, bumping your clit once before slowly guiding his ruddy tip past your entrance, as your cunt flutters around him practically sucking him in.

He's trying to contain his grunts to a minimum, when your noises start to fill the air he brings his palm down hard against your ass, making you jerk away, burying your face in the sheets below with a whine.

“Giving you exactly what you want, and you still can't keep that pretty mouth shut?” He hisses, grinding his hips slowly, to properly scold you. “Feels too good, huh, honey?”

You merely mewl and nod, before another smack echoes around the room, his palm smoothing soothingly over your reddened cheek.

“I asked you a question, honey.” His voice is lazy, dripping sugary sweet condescension.

“Yes, Steve, mmph— it— you feel so, so good.” Finally able to mumble out a coherent sentence.

He smirks, letting a hand slide down the length of your spine, fingers coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head before hauling you up, back flush against his sweaty chest.

Winding his arm around your midsection, the other detangles from your hair to cover your mouth as he places a soft kiss to your temple before his hips snap harshly, the new angle making you cry out, but it's muffled with his palm securely placed over your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, remember honey?” He huffs, breath hot against your neck, unrelenting in his conquest to see your demise.

You grip his forearm, nails digging crescents into his skin, hanging on for dear life. Each outward stroke and upward thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your eyes roll back, suddenly careening you toward the edge of oblivion.

His hand helps stifle your moans, blunt fingertips digging into the apple of your cheek, but you can't help the involuntary sounds that continue to slip out.

“Fuck, y—you feel good.” He stutters out, right in your ear. “Pussy feels like it was made f’me. Mmmm. Gripping me so fuckin' tight.”

The hand around your waist starts drifting south, coming to caress your mound momentarily before delving between your folds finding your puffy, neglected clit with expert ease, drawing swift circles against you causing your cunt to constrict around him sending another wave of arousal flooding out, soaking his balls and dripping down your thighs.

“That's it, honey. I promise we'll get there this time.” His cocky demeanor was doing it for you. You'd never seen this side of Steve, taking control, fucking you better than anyone ever had.

“You're going to cum on my cock while I stuff this cunt full.” You whined out at his words, high pitched against his palm. “That's what you want, huh? Fill you up and make it stick? F—fuck I think I'm close.”

You try to nod, letting him know you were too.

The heat that had been simmering for the last hour in your abdomen was finally reaching a boiling point. Pressure was building, as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting at just the right angle.

Your grip on his forearm tightened, fingernails beginning to draw blood, but he didn't show any signs of distress, never ceasing his movements solely focused on you and the way you felt around him.

You close your eyes, as the flames begin to lick up your spine, spreading further and growing hotter. It was an all-consuming pleasure, your cunt begging for release, begging for his release.

Whatever this pollen had done to the both of you, it was clear it had a driving force with one thing in mind. Procreation. Unsatisfied and unsatiated until you were bursting full of his life giving fluid.

You're finally able to pry his hand away from you to let out one more breathy plea.

“Cum in me, Steve. I— I can't cum, I need you.” Your voice was low and raspy, but he heard you loud and clear.

He fully removed his hand, suddenly pushing you forward. Too weak to fight, your body fell onto the mattress with a small groan as he quickly withdrew himself and manhandled you around to lay on your back.

No matter what this pollen had done to him. He was still Steve deep down and he could never imagine not looking at your beautiful face as you fell apart for the first time. All for him.

He slips off the bed momentarily, picking something up from the floor before crawling back between your legs.

“I'm sorry, honey. You can't stay quiet.” He whispers.

“Wh—,” your question was cut off when he stuffs your filthy panties past your lips for a makeshift gag, kissing your forehead before grabbing the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half.

His palms push you down and hold your thighs open for him as he ruts his cock up through your folds, the tip grazing your clit before catching at your entrance. His head tips down to watch himself slowly disappear into your tight heat.

Your head flies back, feeling every ridge and vein upon his deliberate reentrance, fisting the sheets beneath you as muffled cries echo across the room. He pauses to take delight in the way your face is screwed up with pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt, suddenly wishing he could hear all the pretty sounds you were making unhindered.

He starts to move again, eyes drifting back down to where the two of you connected to watch himself plunge in and out of your soaked pussy, seemingly mesmerized by the way your greedy hole takes him so well but he tears his eyes away when he hears a pained whimper from you, pausing to search your face.

Your eyes were closed, tears flowing down the side of your face, feeling anything but pain as you looked up at him, eyes glazed over, begging him to continue.

Suddenly twitching at the thought of his impending release, he grinds his hips back into yours. The wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit just right, wrenching another moan from you as you nod at him to keep going.

He starts to thrust again but can tell he's close as his balls begin to draw up, and lower stomach tightens. Skin to skin doesn't seem to be enough when there's a sudden overwhelming need to be closer. He wants to crawl under your skin and embed himself there.

He releases the hold on your legs, letting them ease back to the bed as he drapes himself over you, caging you in. The hair on his chest grazes your nipples with each thrust only adding to your sensations as your hands find purchase on his back.

Holding himself up on one elbow his palm finds your breast, pressing and kneading before his mouth finds the other, sucking a little harshly leaving the top of your chest with a dark reminder as your body arches upward, craving more. His tongue moves over your pebbled nipple before he latches on.

It suddenly feels like he's everywhere all at once. Hands roaming, mouth hot as his cock continues to carve its way into your guts.

He pops off momentarily, sensing a shift in you because he can feel it too.

“You gonna cum with me, honey?” You look up into his eyes, a black abyss. The familiar hazel irises are nowhere to be found. Your best friend now hell bent on ruining you for any other man.

You nod, with a muffled “mmhmm” hoping to God you can finally crest over the precipice.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He hums, hiking your thigh up his hip. Your brows marry with confusion because of the day's earlier blunder.

“It's ok.” He soothes your worry away, large hand gripping your ass as he continues to grind down.

You do as he says, wrapping them around his torso, locking your ankles at the base of his spine. He winces only once before focusing all his concentration on pumping in and out, in and out. Making sure to tilt his pelvis on the upward thrust, simultaneously stimulating that spot deep within you and brushing your clit.

This was it. Fading embers reignited as flames slowly fanned across your lower abdomen. Your brain is all but mush, yearning for a release that only he can provide.

“I'm close.” He hisses out with a grunt, burying his head into your neck. His breath fans hot across you as he starts to whine and mutter. “M’gonna fill this pussy full. F–fuck my goddamn load so far into you. Mmpmh, is that– that’s what you want?”

A few more erratic thrusts before he pushes in so deep that his head is kissing the crown of your cervix. Your walls clamp down around him, holding him in place before his cock twitches and begins to spurt his release into your greedy womb.

Your body reacts suddenly, hot white heat floods your core with the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced. Everything around you seems to fade, as a blinding white light bursts behind your eyelids. Your cunt spasms around him, milking everything he had to give, he groans almost painfully but the sound seems so far away. If you weren't lying underneath him you would have sworn you could float away.

Your chests heave against one another as his body goes limp, crushing you in the best possible way. The lust fueled haze was extinguished with your release, leaving you tired and spent.

His softening dick kicks up a few more times making you whimper as your legs and arms fall away from him, utterly and completely exhausted.

You're pulled out of your blissful afterglow when he pulls your panties from your mouth. Humming as you close your mouth, dry and parched, smacking your lips together softly.

You still had your eyes closed, as his hand comes tp to caress your jaw, thumb running tenderly across the apple of your cheek as you both came down from your highs.

“You ok?” He asked timidly, as you nod with a “mmhmm.”

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” The sweet, caring best friend returning to his senses, as you reply a low “no.”

“Good.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Steve?” Managing to croak out, voice hoarse and rough.

“Hmmnh?” He manages, eyes fixated where the two of you were still connected, finally pulling his softening cock free, your mixed fluids flooding from your spent hole. He had the urge to shove it back in, but stopped himself.

“I was going to jump in first,” you whispered out, as his head shot up to look at you. You were completely dazed, on the verge of sleep.

“What?” He asked, easing himself back, eyes roving over your body littered with bruises and bitemarks. Proof that he hadn't experienced some sort of upside down drug induced hallucination.

“The lake.” You hummed. “Robin stopped me.” Yawning before continuing. “I would've jumped in first.”

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling softly to himself, easing beside you, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. Spending a few more minutes tangled up in you, before the weight of reality would inevitably come crashing back down.

“Mmhmm. I'd go anywhere with you.” You confess, wrapping your arms around his middle as he pulls you into his chest. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's been in love with you for years. He would've jumped in head first if the tables were turned, he just didn't want anything to happen to you.

“I know, honey. I'd—,” a loud banging at the front door startling you both from your daydream, as he rose up ready for anything.

He hurried to get his clothes back on, throwing your bra and shirt up to you as he walked out into the hall leaving you to get dressed.

He could hear muffled voices behind the door. Your friends had circled back to find you.

Everyone stopped talking as soon as he threw open the door looking a little worse for wear.

“Oh thank God!” Robin was the first to speak, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. “What the hell happened to you?”

“We're fine Rob,” Stepping back and letting them enter the small space, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “The bats chased us here, stuck around a while but we're fine.”

They were all chatting when you finally walked into the room clearing your throat as everyone whipped their heads around, eyes all going a little wide at your appearance.

Robin's gaze flitted your neck, as she sent you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows causing you to pull the collar of your shirt over the exposed skin as your cheeks heated.

“Seriously?!” She smacked Steve's arm, looking wide eyed back to him. “Down here? I mean, it's about time. You've only been dying to confess your feelings for wh—”

“Robin!” He hissed out, cutting off her rambling. “Stop!”

She slapped her hand over her mouth, looking over to your confused expression.

“Can uh, you guys give us a minute?” He asked, hands falling to his hips, as they all looked between each other before heading back out the door. Robin mouthed a “sorry” your way, shutting the door behind her.

“Feelings, huh?” Toeing at a small rock on the floor instead of meeting his gaze.

“Fuck. Well, yeah. It's you. How could I not?” He sighed. “But, we seriously don't ever have to talk about this again. Pretend it never happened and feelings aside, you're still my best friend.”

“What if I don't want to forget?” You bit the inside of your lip as your mouth curled into a shy grin. “And…” Taking a step toward him. “What if I told you I had feelings for you too?”

“Yeah?” He asked, reaching out to haul you in close, as you took another step.

“Yeah.” Your hands taking hold of Eddie's vest, curling into his chest. “And, once we get out of here, maybe we can try all of this again?” His face lit up, as you smiled at him. “Without the raging, horny sex pollen?”

You both huffed a laugh, relaxing into each other.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He nods, excitement blooming in his chest.

“C’mon handsome, let's get out of here.” Your hand found his, sending him a small giggle as you pulled him toward the door to rejoin your friends.

Despite the dismal cloud looming above he had a feeling that everything would work out this time.

Tagging a few mooties that might be interested (and please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!): @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @bunnyhargrove @xxbimbobunnyxx

And also: @crybabyddl (since you asked!) 🙂

[lovetei]

Obey me demon brothers reacting to mc being hit with a "special" potion by someone and them having to deal with mc being extremely horny and dominant plus having their back absolutely blown? (Btw I love your writing🫶🏼)

It's like 1 in the morning and my phone is at 8 percent, the best time to write.

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MC was affected by this mysterious potion that makes them crave for some back-breaking fuck

Warnings: No proofreading, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, smut, no censoring, reader is Implied to be wearing strap or having cock (a big one), fingering them, wrong use of car hood, choking, air deprivation, wrong use of ties, ovestimulation

Parts: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

Are you being serious?

You mean to tell him that the reason why you came home looking like that

Why you came home and immediately went inside his room

Is because you were affected by this strange potion?

That makes you feel like you're in heat?

It doesn't matter, he needs to check up on you and see if it's harmful or not

Or to see if he can do anything to help you, at least.

"A-AUGH!" Moans and screams that sounds too whiny to be his escaped his mouth as your fingers moved wilder. "Wait a second!" He screamed the second time before you added another finger.

He was drooling like a dog on top of his desk as his cock spurt out strings of cum, staining the dark wood of his desk. "You better keep your back like this or I'll have to force it then." You ordered after you grabbed his shoulder and made him arch his back.

"G-Give me a break atleast..!" Is the last thing he screamed after he felt something hard against his used ass.

MAMMON

He was panicking

He knew that this ingredient had an aphrodisiac like effect on humans

But he didn't know it would be this much.

Plus he meant no harm!

He simply fed you this bread during your night out to make things a little exciting!

"Stop fucking moving." You cursed out as you slammed in his ass harder making him moan even more "I-I'm trying..!" He sobbed out as you bent him over the hood of his car, one of his legs raised on it while his dick continued to leak pre.

"P-Please don't be mad! O-One more! I promise I'll do better!" He begged like a whore as he pushed himself closer to you, trying to push your length deeper.

And the last thing he remembered is how he passed out and woke up again with his legs up your shoulder as you relentlessly pound into him.

LEVIATHAN

He kind of knew that it has strong aphrodisiac in it

It was said in the warning after all

But he's a high ranking demon so of course it has no effect on him

And he forgot that you're still human despite having that enormous amount of magic

"Shhh... Breath in." You chuckled at him as he shakily inhaled, sweat coating his forehead as you pushed your fingers inside of him once again "A-Agh~ I think I really can't do it anymore..!" Panic settled in when he felt himself on the edge with just your fingers.

His breathing got more ragged and panicked as you moved your fingers "Don't say that! I know you can take it..." You tried to cover your annoyed mood by sweetening your words.

"N-No... I-I think I'll die..!" His cock leaked pre but your patience is just starting to run thin "Levi how about we shut up?" You pushed your fingers down his throat "You made me like this so take responsibility." You threatened.

SATAN

He saw this unique spell in one of his books.

It applies aphrodisiac on foods without needing an actual potion

And so he though, why not try it on you?

You have gained a pretty amount of mana since time time you first came here

You can handle this much right?

Satan held on the bookshelf for his dear life as he bit on the tie harder to surpress his moans "You might break the shelf at this rate..." You panted out as you pushed yourself deeper inside of him.

A groan escaped his throat as tears does from his eyes "No mwore!" He managed to say through the gag as he caressed his ass, red from all the spanking he received earlier.

You just held his hands and slammed all the way in, his knees completely giving up and your hands holding his up is the only thing preventing him from falling "There, there... I'll start moving now..." You sweetly said, ignoring his please.

ASMODEUS

He didn't mean to!

You just looked so hot earlier that he forgot he had this ability!

Accidentally putting aphrodisiac on your food... How horrible!

Don't worry, he'll take responsibility!

Rhythmic moan is the only thing that can be hear inside the dimly lit room of Asmodeus, oh, the slapping sound of his ass whenever it hits your waist too.

"Augh!~ I-I'm getting a little tired honey~" He moaned as he continued to bounce himself on top of you as you lazily sat on his sofa "Maybe a little help..?" He guided your hands to his waist, implying that he wants you to move him yourself.

When you didn't react, he looked back at you over his shoulders and saw how you look completely out of it, dilated pupils and red cheeks "You know... If I started moving you yourself I might break your fragile little waist." You whined out as he felt you grip him harder.

BEELZEBUB

He's really sorry!

He forgot about this aphrodisiac and how it's harmful for humans...

What do you mean he can help cure the pain?

Sure, he'll help!

You played with Beelzebub's vibrant hair as his mouth worked wonders for you "Just like that~" You moaned as you looked down at him.

"Am I helping you relive the pain..?" He pulled away for a minute, a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips from your thighs "Yes, Beel. You're doing so good~" You leaned down to give him a little kiss

"I'm pretty sure this is hurting too~" You moved your feet closer to his clothed cock, visibly hard and straining against his pants "Then... Can MC help me relive it later too..?" He asked which made you smirk.

BELPHEGOR

It started off as a harmless prank

It was supposed to be a harmless prank

He didn't know it would reach this far

And he never thought that you'll let it reach this far!

"F-Fucking hell! MC!" He managed to say between the small intervals where you raised his head and let him breath, it's sad that this is what he decided to say.

You slammed his head back down on the pillow and moved your hip back and forth, enough to push him forward and have him holding the bed frame.

And then he tapped your thigh signaling that he's about to cum, and being a nice human, you let him, but this time, you didn't raise his head to let him breath and now you can see the panic.

How he was struggling to push himself up as cum leak out of his cock continuously, you harshly pulled his hair to let him breath "A-Ah~ I-I can't breath please!" He was holding your hands as he begged, tears and sweat messing up his face.

It was a sight to behold before you push him back down.

[opiopal]

random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)

imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."

once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"

imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.

imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.

You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)

imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.

imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.

Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.

thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.

[hookhausenschips]

His. {CS55}

Navigation

Summary: He was toxic, everything about him but neither could stay away. Not when he's staked his claim.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: toxic, situationship, smutty smut smut, begging, praise, biting, possessiveness, degradation

18+

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

He looked at me, with a smirk on his face. “Is this what you wanted, huh?” he asked, as he pushed my head down, making me look at him from beneath my lashes.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered out, feeling his warm breath tickle my skin.

I felt him shift a bit, his hand going to my hip, lifting my leg over his head.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I-I wanted this,” I panted out.

I knew what he wanted to hear. I knew what it did to him.

“Tell me, amor. Tell me what you wanted. Say it for me.”

I knew I was playing into his hands. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted it just as much as he did.

“I wanted your cock in my mouth,” I spat out, feeling myself get wetter as he smirked at me.

He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he shoved his cock down my throat, making me gag slightly.

I looked up at him through watery eyes, and he smirked.

“Good girl,” he murmured, thrusting into my throat. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

A few months ago, I thought we were done.

I thought we’d finally managed to break free from our toxic relationship.

But we’d found ourselves back in bed together a month later.

We couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. Every time we tried to take a break, we found ourselves right back where we started.

I didn’t know how long I could keep this up. At the end of the day, he didn’t want me. He only wanted to fuck. And I’d been foolish to think it’d ever be more than that.

I’d told him I couldn’t keep doing this.

But I always came running back to him.

He’d come to my flat after his race, angry as ever that we hadn’t spoken for a week.

But that’s what happened when we broke up. We stopped communicating until one of us caved.

It always ended up being me.

That’s why I was currently on my knees, sucking his cock.

I heard a knock on the door, and I froze, looking up at Carlos in panic.

“Fuck, I can’t believe we forgot to lock the door,” he growled out, grabbing my hair to keep me in place.

“What if it’s a friend?” I asked, worried about getting caught.

“Then let’s hope they have a good show,” he smirked. “I’m not stopping now.”

I felt him thrust into me as he said it, and I couldn’t help but moan around his cock. His words did something to me. I was so turned on, I could barely think straight.

He leaned forward a bit more, making sure his cock went even deeper in my throat. I gagged slightly, trying to hold in my tears. But he didn’t let up, shoving even deeper.

I tried to push him off, but he only held me tighter.

“I’m going to come, and you’re going to swallow,” he growled. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded my head, whimpering around his cock as he fucked my throat.

“Good girl,” I heard him say before he came down my throat, the hot liquid making me gag and cough.

I pushed him off as soon as he let go of my hair, backing up and coughing on the floor. Carlos just lay back on the bed, looking satisfied.

“Next time, lock the door, Y/N,” he chuckled.

I glared up at him, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand. “Next time, maybe I won’t come back to you.”

I knew I’d only said it in anger. We both knew there’d be a next time.

He smirked at me. “We’ll see about that.”

I stood up quickly, smoothing out my dress.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I need to get home.”

He didn’t stop me as I grabbed my purse and left his flat.

But the look he gave me as I went made me shiver. He’d be coming for me again. Soon. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no. Not ever. Not to him. Not to Carlos Sainz. Not to my Spaniard. Not to the love of my life. Not to my toxic situation. Not to my downfall. Not to the devil himself. Not to Satan. Not to my master. Not to my king.

“See you soon, Y/N,” I heard as I walked out. I didn’t turn around, just kept walking.

And I knew exactly what he meant by those three little words.

It was a few weeks later, and I was finally out of the city for work.

I was staying at a hotel for three nights. It’d been good to get out. I hadn’t seen Carlos since the last time we broke up and it was better that way.

I wasn’t thinking about him.

I’d moved on. And it felt amazing.

I was finally healing from his wounds.

I hadn’t answered any of his messages or calls.

And it’d been bliss.

I was getting ready for my meeting when I got a message from an unknown number. My heart skipped a beat as I saw his name pop up on the screen.

My hands trembled slightly as I opened the text.

“Don’t think you can avoid me forever, amor,” he wrote. “Meet me in the hotel lobby in 5 minutes.”

I stared at the message for a minute, wondering what the hell was going on. How did he know I was in town? How did he know which hotel I was at?

“Carlos,” I typed out. “Why?”

“I heard you were in town,” he answered. “Thought I’d come say hello.”

I read his text a few times. He knew I was leaving the city. He knew where I was. And now he knew what hotel I was staying at.

He was stalking me.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

“Meet you downstairs?” I asked him.

“See you then,” he replied.

I stared at my phone for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do.

But deep down, I knew it was already decided. I’d go meet him. I’d fall into his arms like the fool that I was.

He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans when I saw him in the lobby.

His dark hair was messy, like he’d just woken up.

“Hola, amor,” he said as I walked to him.

He held out his arms, and I stepped into them, burying my face in his chest.

“Why are you here?” I mumbled against his shirt.

“I told you,” he said. “To say hello.”

“Carlos,” I sighed. “Why are you really here?”

He laughed a bit, holding me even tighter. “Because you were leaving the city without me. And that couldn’t stand.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that,” he replied. “You’re not going anywhere without me. Never again.”

He squeezed me tight as he spoke, making it hard for me to breathe.

“But-”

“You’re not leaving me again, Y/N,” he interrupted. “Never again. You’re mine. You belong to me.”

“Carlos,” I protested. “You don’t mean that.”

He stepped back and cupped my face. “Yes, I do. I want you. Always.”

He kissed me then, and I felt myself melting into him.

I’d give in to him. I knew that. We both knew that.

“Come with me,” he whispered as he pulled back. “Let’s go back to my room.”

I looked at the elevator, then back to him.

“No,” I said finally. “Not today.”

“Amor, come on,” he whined, pouting at me. “Just a few hours.”

I shook my head. “No. I have a meeting. I can’t miss it.”

His face fell slightly, and I felt guilty for a second before pushing the feeling aside.

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” I said. “Maybe later?”

He smirked at me again. “Oh, there will be a later.”

With that, he leaned down to kiss me goodbye.

And I watched him walk away.

I walked into the restaurant, looking for my co-workers. I saw them at a table by the window and made my way over.

“Hey,” I greeted them as I sat down.

They all greeted me back, asking how my flight was. I chatted with them for a while before the waiter came by to take our order.

I ordered some soup and salad and chatted some more with them before my food came.

I dug in immediately, feeling a bit starving since I’d missed breakfast.

I was eating when I felt my phone vibrate on my lap.

I glanced at the screen, seeing Carlos’ name.

I rolled my eyes slightly and tried to focus on my work lunch.

But then I felt it vibrate again.

And again.

And again. And again. And again. All within a minute of each other.

I couldn’t focus on the conversation anymore, feeling annoyed by Carlos and his incessant messaging.

“Excuse me for a second,” I muttered to my co-workers as I stood up from my seat.

They told me to go ahead and I walked away, to a quiet corner near the kitchen.

I opened my phone and saw the string of messages from Carlos.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Having lunch,” I replied.

“Who are you having lunch with?”

“My co-workers,” I answered.

“You can’t take this much time off from me, amor,” he told me. “I have a need for you. One that can’t be met if you’re not here.”

“Carlos, you can’t expect me to be with you all the time.”

He sent me a picture of his cock, already hard, and I gasped at the sight of it.

“I can. And you know why.”

I did. Because I was his whore. Because I could never say no to him.

“Carlos,” I moaned out. “I can’t.”

But deep down, I was lying. He was pulling me in again. The picture was turning me on. I could feel it in my veins.

I needed him. And he knew that. And he was going to use that against me.

I looked back at the table, feeling bad for leaving my co-workers but knowing I had to go.

“I have to go,” I texted Carlos before grabbing my purse and walking out of the restaurant.

My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way to his hotel room.

I felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house, but I didn’t care.

I knew I was doing something bad, but I was a slave to him. A slave to his cock. A slave to his touch. A slave to the pleasure he made me feel.

I knocked on the door and he opened it a few seconds later. He was completely naked, and his cock was hard already.

“Amor,” he purred as he opened the door. “Welcome back.”

I walked in and he shut the door behind me, pushing me up against it.

“Missed me?” he smirked as he kissed me.

I nodded, and he pushed my dress up, hooking my legs around his waist.

“I’m going to take you here,” he said. “Right up against the door.”

I moaned out as he bit my neck, his teeth sinking into my skin. He loved marking me. And I loved wearing his marks. I loved letting him claim me.

“Do it,” I whispered. “Fuck me, Carlos. Please.”

He smirked again as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my entrance.

“You’re so needy,” he said. “Like a little slut.”

I moaned again at his words, loving the way they made me feel. He was a master at playing dirty. And I was a sucker for his tricks.

“Please, Carlos,” I begged. “Please.”

He leaned in and bit my neck again, thrusting his cock into me at the same time.

I gasped at the feeling of him inside me and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me in place as he thrust in and out of me.

“Good girl,” he whispered in my ear as he moved faster. “Good fucking girl.”

I moaned and whimpered, loving the sound of his praise. I knew I was his good girl. And he loved it.

He bit down on my neck and thrust into me at the same time, making me cry out as I came around his cock.

“You like that?” he asked as he continued to thrust into me.

“Yes,” I panted. “God, yes.”

He bit down again and I felt myself clench around him, making him moan slightly.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so tight. I’m going to fill you up now.”

I nodded, biting my lip as he kept thrusting in and out. I felt the hot liquid flood my pussy as he came, and he kept thrusting into me as he held onto my neck with his teeth.

“Mine,” he mumbled. “You’re mine.”

I didn’t answer, just held onto him as he moved inside me. I knew we’d do this again. We’d keep fucking each other until we were tired of each other. We’d fuck until we hated each other. Until we couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

But it’d never end.

I’d never let it end. He’d never let it end.

We’d keep coming back for each other. And it’d always end in me being on my knees for him, taking his cock down my throat. And it’d always end with his cum down my throat. Or on my tits. Or on my face.

It’d always be that way.

And I’d always let it happen.

Because he owned me.

Because I was his slave.

Because I was his little slut.

Because I was Carlos Sainz’ whore.

And that’s all I’d ever be.

CS55 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @xoscar03, @miarabanana, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @omgsuperstarg

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @omgsuperstarg

[torakowalski]

(part one | part seven)

"Yes," says Eddie when Steve cups his face with one strong hand.

He says, "Yes," when Steve kisses him too. Says, "Yes," again, when Steve slides his free hand into Eddie's armpit and pulls him up onto the bed.

They land with a bounce, Eddie half under Steve. He looks at Steve, gorgeous and pink-cheeked, braced above him, lips still slightly parted, and says, "Wait."

Shit, he is not a fan of himself, right now.

Steve waits. He leans back a little, looking like he's bracing himself for whatever Eddie's about to say.

"What's happening?" Eddie asks. "Don't say kissing."

Steve pouts like Eddie is robbing him of all his simple pleasures. "I, uh, I mean I'm not totally sure." He bites his lip. "I wanted to kiss you, so I did."

Okay, Eddie is calm. Eddie is calm about Steve wanting to kiss him.

"Weird reaction to making the team?" he guesses.

Steve scrunches up his face, like he's thinking about it. "I don't think so. I wanted to kiss you before I made the team."

"You... did?"

Steve is still very much hovering above Eddie. It seems like he might not have noticed that he's basically doing a plank while having this conversation. Stupid swimmer's arms. His t-shirt is hanging down, away from his stomach, and Eddie desperately wants to touch his bare skin. He bets he's really, really warm there.

"How long before?" Eddie adds, without giving Steve time to answer the first question.

"Since you cheered for me," Steve says, which doesn't narrow it down at all, until it does. "I fucked up my first couple of races, but then I saw you yelling for me from the stands, and I thought I can't wait to kiss him for that, later. Took me an extra couple seconds to realise that we don't kiss, and then I couldn't think of a good reason why not."

That was maybe two hours ago, and that's only if Eddie is feeling generous with time.

"Steve, you can't just..."

"I know," Steve interrupts. "I know I'm supposed to take time to freak out and panic and think about what this _means_ and worry about all the things that Robin worries about, but I'm just... You know me, I do things, I don't think about them first. I really don't feel any need to think about this, either."

He looks down at Eddie with his big, dark eyes all genuine and sincere. And yup. Yup Eddie is going to get his heartbroken so very badly.

Eddie shakes his head at himself and his own stupid decision making. "A good person would say you need to take your time and not rush into this." Steve looks genuinely disappointed, which Eddie cannot stand. "I, however, am the son of Satan, remember?"

"Oh, shucks, I thought you were just a Satan worshipper," Steve says. "I didn't realise you were like, Hell Jesus. You should have said something."

Eddie snorts a laugh. It's kind of gross honestly, but Steve just smirks. Fucker.

"Put that face to better use and kiss me," Eddie orders. He's glad he sounds confident because he does not feel it.

Steve's smirk because a smile, all sunny and surprised. "Yeah?"

"Just until you come to your senses." Eddie reaches up, puts his hand on the back of Steve's neck. His hair is damp against Eddie's palm and his skin is smooth and hot.

"That's gonna be a while, I think," says Steve. He lowers himself down onto his elbows so their chests are barely a breath apart, presses a kiss to Eddie's mouth.

It's not Eddie's first kiss or anything, but it's definitely within his first... three kisses. He hopes like hell he's doing it right. At first, it's closed mouths, lips moving gently together but then Eddie feels a burst of total daring and parts his lips. Steve hums happily and dips the tip of his tongue into Eddie's mouth.

Fuck, holy fuck, this is really happening. Eddie can taste Steve's spit. That never happens in his dreams.

He hears himself make a noise and his hand clenches, squeezing the nape of Steve's neck. He squirms a little, gets his other arm around Steve's back, hand flat just above the waistband of his pants.

Steve makes a very happy hum, licks into Eddie's mouth, and then they're definitely not just kissing; this is definitely making out.

Eddie's hard in seconds, but this isn't the time, so he's gonna ignore that. It's more difficult to ignore how fast his nipples go tight, aching with it until all he can do is pull Steve down, press up into him, until they're chest to chest.

He wishes their shirts would melt away. He wants Steve's skin against his own. Preferably, he wants all of Steve's thick, ridiculous chest hair for this half-hour of madness, but he'll take the smooth, waxed version too.

"Ed," Steve says into his mouth. His fingers have knotted in Eddie's hair. "Eddie, can we lose our shirts?"

"Are you an actual mind reader?" asks Eddie, which just makes Steve laugh.

Steve sits up, grabs the back of his t-shirt, and is just above to pull it over his head when the room phone rings.

They both freeze.

"Fuck. Dinner," Steve says, eyes wide. Eddie hadn't realised he'd forgotten about it; that's pretty gratifying.

Eddie grabs the phone, since it seems the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Where are you?" Dustin whines. "We're starving."

"Eat bread sticks," Eddie tells him, watching sadly as Steve lets his t-shirt settle back down around his body.

"We've eaten them all," Dustin says. "What are you even doing? You've been ages."

Eddie flops backwards onto the bed. He knew making out with Steve wasn't going to last, but he thinks the universe could have let him have a little more time with it.

"Team USA here has to do his hair all pretty," he lies, sending Steve an apologetic look.

Steve rolls his eyes.

Judging by the noise Dustin makes, he does the same.

"Well, tell him to hurry up. Your uncle just called Ma 'ma'am,' and she giggled. I need back-up."

Huh. Go Uncle Wayne. "We're hurrying," he promises. "Order without us and we'll be there stat."

"I'm ordering the steak," Dustin says, like he thinks Eddie is the one paying and hangs up.

Steve has moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He gives Eddie a wonky smile. "We really should get ready to go."

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and doesn't let himself think about whether Steve sounds regretful. (He really does think Steve might sound regretful.)

"Yeah. Apparently my uncle is flirting with Mrs Henderson, and Dustin's at risk of both a stroke and starvation."

"God forbid he reacts to something calmly," Steve says, a smile still in his voice. "I'll go shower."

He stands up. Then he sits down again. He reaches out and curls his long fingers around Eddie's wrist. "I haven't come to my senses yet."

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"You said, you said you'd kiss me until I came to my senses. I still feel totally senseless, so maybe we could kiss more after dinner?"

Fuck. How is Eddie supposed to eat now? Or hold a conversation like a normal person.

"Um," he says. "I, uh. I did say that, and I never go back on my word."

Steve squeezes Eddie's wrist then briefly tangles their fingers together. "Wanna shower together?"

He bounces his eyebrows, so Eddie doesn't think he's serious. It makes him want to say yes just to see what Steve would do. Except he knows what Steve would do, he'd go through with it, and neither of them are ready for that.

"Not on our first date," he says. "Hit me up when you've got a gold medal, and we'll see."

"Maybe I'll hold you to that," Steve says. He gets up and heads off to the shower, whistling as he goes.

(continued here)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 50

part 1 | part 49 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence, period-typical homophobia

Steve gets the full story from Jeff later that night.

After Eddie and Wayne come out of the bathroom — after Eddie goes straight to his room and shuts the door without so much as a glance in Steve's direction, after Wayne clears his throat and suggests they all clear out and give the kid a night to cool off — Steve drags himself back to his trailer and paces for a while. Tries not to feel horribly rejected, which is...

It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is.

Stupid to be focusing on his own dumb feelings right now.

Eddie's the one with a pulverized face.

So anyway, Jeff. Steve dials his number, and it feels weird that he even has his number at all — weirder still that, of all the guys in Corroded Coffin, he and Jeff have the most in common. Makes sense, though; Jeff's the only one who likes professional sports even a little.

"Hello?" Jeff's nasal voice comes over the line.

He sounds like his usual self — doesn't sound like he got pummeled, at least. Steve paces a tighter circle, says, "Hey, man, it's Steve."

Jeff makes a clipped noise. "You saw Eddie then?"

Furious heat crawls up the back of Steve’s neck, the image swimming red in his tunneled vision: the welt under Eddie's eye, the blood blooming on his chin. Someone did that to him.

Someone who needs to fucking pay for it.

“Yeah,” he seethes, trying to keep his voice down. “What the hell happened?"

Jeff sighs; launches into the vague version of events that he's allowed to tell — the version with no names and no identifying details, because Eddie made them swear not to tell Steve who was responsible.

"Sorry, man," he says when Steve presses for the third time; sounds like he means it, too. "Eddie seems to think you'd just land yourself in big boy jail if you knew, so…”

Steve clenches his jaw, his fists. Imagines fresh blood against his knuckles, how good it would feel to slam them into someone’s face; has a flashback of Billy Hargrove pinning him to a kitchen floor, laughing maniacally while his world went dull and dim.

…Goddammit. “He’s not wrong.”

So Steve listens, silent and helpless while Jeff tells him as much as he can about the mounting Satanic panic: how the townspeople are still grieving everyone who died last summer, how that grief is turning to paranoia, conspiracies about the destruction of the hospital and the fire at the mall, and now there are all these news articles coming out, whipping churchgoers into a frenzy over the queers and the occult, and the end result of all of it is that Eddie gets his ass beat in the alley behind a shitty dive bar.

All for having the nerve to wear a Black Sabbath shirt in public.

“Eddie said they stole something?” Steve prompts after a short silence.

"His amp,” Jeff says, and Steve sags in relief. At least it wasn’t the Warlock. He can replace an amp no problem. “They stole our fucking tip jar, too. Not there was much in it, man, but still.”

Fuckers, Steve thinks.

"Fuckers," Jeff spits, then sighs, "so much for being Christ-like, or whatever."

Steve chews his lip. Fiddles with his nails, hoping to work out a way to get Jeff to give him names. He only knows one name that comes to mind, but he can’t just go pummeling people on a hunch.

“If you ask me again,” Jeff says, “I’m hanging up.”

Well, damn. He slouches back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. "The rest of you are alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good. We were loading the van when it happened.” Another short, derisive sound. “Of course they waited to corner him when he was alone."

"So they planned this," Steve says, and the name in his head is practically flashing on a marquee. Jason Carver and his lackeys at that party back in November. The back of Jason’s head at the midnight mass they snuck into. Is this freak bothering you?

Steve’s voice is a lethal whisper. "Do you think they'll do it again?"

"Steve—"

“Do,” he repeats, “you think” —Hopper’s ghost in his mouth, authoritative and slow— “they'll do it again?"

Jeff lets out a long breath, his words wobbly with nerves. "I don't know, dude. Probably not? One of them looked pretty freaked out by how messed up Eddie's eye was."

Steve tastes blood in his mouth.

Fucking better have.

Another silence falls, rustling and static sounds, and Jeff hesitates. "Listen, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just... Well. Eddie can get a little, um. A little weird, about people seeing him be, like, vulnerable and shit. So. Just a heads up."

Weird like hiding from his boyfriend? the petty part of Steve’s brain supplies. Weird like shutting his door without saying goodbye?

He tamps down hard on the hurt that bubbles up at the reminder, because—

Because Eddie’s seen him at his most pathetic too many times to count. Has seen him blubbering and soft and desperate for comfort; has offered it so eagerly without judgment or thought. And if Steve can’t do the same now, if Eddie thinks there’s shame to be found in it, then that means— that means…

He swallows the glass shard in his throat. “Thanks for the warning, man. For real.”

—

part 51

holy shit i can’t believe i wrote 50 parts of this

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[skyeoak]

Thoughts on tmagp episode 24

*cough* my sister had a newborn a few months ago. Here’s some red flags about “the health visitor” from today’s episode:

- newborns feed every 2-3 hours, usually 2.5. Idk if this is different in the UK but I don’t see why it would be.

- most babies are born with greyish eyes, which changes over time. If Rupert’s a newborn when she’s talking about his black orb eyes, this is maybe a red flag?

- “I couldn’t scream, I didn’t want to wake him” AHHHHHH oh god the psychological horror of having a newborn aghfjgjfhhhhhh

Very Rosemary’s Baby, but instead of going full satanic panic, “Raising Issues” focuses on the self-sacrificial narrative mothers are told, and how that leads to a dangerous and isolating situation as Patricia ignores every red flag in sight. I had my head in my hands. Honestly, I wish we’d dived deeper into the socioeconomic stuff rather than the body horror because back to back with “A New You” it felt like too similar of a story structure, even though imo they’re meant to be parallels.

23 and 24 have been so similar that they’re definitely intentional contrasts to each other. One’s from Chester talking about how you can long to change yourself so fully only for it to all go wrong, and this one’s from Norris about destroying yourself to support the one you love… I am ill, actually. Screaming crying relistening to the last recording in this case file and finding all the points that are reminiscent of Mag 170 (Recollection).

These lines specifically are making me think. Once again, I am ill.

Chester: “Alesis Newman is leaving this world and whatever comes next – though she may look like me in some ways, though she may carry a part of me with her – she’ll be better. Free of all my mistakes. Perhaps people will like her more than me. I already like her more than me. I want to see her walk off happy and strong. I hope she doesn’t feel this now, just be the good parts of me. (hoarse) I hope it’s like I dreamt, I hope she has my eyes…”

Norris: “I can’t remember when… when I last… had sleep. I think… I think days…” + “I don’t know what’s going to happen. There’s not much of me left. I’m so scared. But at least Rupey’s happy…”

Considering this is the first Norris case file in over 10 episodes (since episode 12, unless I’m wrong) and he’s literally just reading the stuff between recordings, I’m a bit concerned.

Who the fuck is reading this statement and why didn’t they mention it to Celia IMMEDIATELY? If it was Sam, he knows she has a kid and is in a support group, and if it was Celia herself, then idk why she isn’t at least concerned (that’s suspicious, Celia.) I guess Gwen and Alice don’t know about Jack, so they’re off the hook.

ALSO rupert? A red name? Philosopher’s stone alchemical reference? Or just referring to the blood he’s feeding on?

I know I’m gonna see a ton of takes on this episode being like “this is why I’m childfree” and, like yeah, I’m not planning on kids either but this story is such an extension of existing social structures that I hope we talk, at least a little, about the social narratives at work here about pregnancy, parenthood, and childcare.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XIV good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 2

Here we go. It might not have been traumatic, but it has made me utterly in love with a fictional character. Great.

While everyone runs around between episode 1 and 2 to use the loo or fetch emotional support fruit, in preparation for my inevitable gay panic for Crowley, I eat an emotional support banana as the intro sequence plays.

I realise too late that bananas remind me of fellatio.

The episode begins. There are incoherent screams of BILDADDY through the chat. The phrase religious fervour and ecstasy comes to mind. I do not say it.

God and Satan are betting on a poor bloke so his goats and kids are going to be dead, Crowley has a permit to wreak havoc, Aziraphale is scandalised.

Gabriel's angel hair is very Lord Farquaad. Everyone agrees.

Jimbriel is determined to make his new dad proud, and rearranges all the books in alphabetical order of the first letter of the first sentence. Aziraphale struggles to compliment him.

CROWLEY LIVES IN THE BENTLEY. I'M READY TO RIP THROUGH REALITY'S FABRIC TO GIVE THAT IMMORTAL SOME LOVE AND AFFECTION. AND OF COURSE HE STILL KEEPS ALL HIS PLANTS AND HAS THEM IN THE BACK. @neil-gaiman WHY MUST YOU CAREFULLY CRAFT BEAUTY THAT BREAKS ME.

Anyway.

NO NOT ANYWAY I'M STILL RAGING BUT WE HAVE A SUMMARY TO DO AND I'M A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL GODDAMN IT.

Angels are assholes. Jimbriel is very supportive bookseller's son.

The shit-job subtlety attempt last episode was very powerful because TOGETHER THEY ARE STRONGER! *unicorn music*

Aziraphale strokes Crowley's chest. The fandom sobs.

Crowley suggests getting humans wet to make them 'vavoom' and the apple falls from my slack jaw mid bite.

Aziraphale and Crowley are shit at interpreting human media.

Job storyline. If I open my mouth I'll start scream-crying about how Crowley didn't even kill the goats. He had both heaven and hell's permission, orders from God and Satan, and he didn't even kill the goats. Anyway no we're not doing this now thanks.

Crowley introduces Aziraphale to food. Aziraphale goes ham on the ox rib while Crowley has a little spring awakening about his kinks. I eat my other emotional support banana in honour of the blowjob angles.

Crowley didn't even want to reveal that he'd saved the goats to Aziraphale even though Aziraphale was looking at him with betrayal, because it was for the goats and he wanted to-

Sorry. I'm so fucking normal about goats.

David Tennant and his son are having a HECK of a time.

All Crowley wanted to do was ask questions and christ if he isn't angelic who is he put goats' safety over his-

Bildaddy is the best cobbler and obstetrician. Gabriel is an idiot.

Back in actual time, Crowley gives up on Aziraphale mid-flashback and they saunter off to facilitate some lesbian romancing.

OUR BOOKSHOP. OUR CAR. PLENTY OF USE.

Boundaries, Aziraphale, please. Someone reminds us that the Bentley is all Crowley has left. I fill with preternatural RAGE again.

Aziraphale poor baby has a crisis over betraying heaven. Crowley comforts him even though Crowley fell so every defence of heaven is an attack to himself. I'm totally normal and start eating my emotional support kiwi.

Still eating my emotional support kiwi when the episode ends. Crowley says Aziraphale is too pure and angelic looking to be a demon which means that she doesn't see how pure and angelic she was while making the stars, she thinks she was marked in some way, imperfect. It is okay for her to fall, not Aziraphale.

Anyway yes summary all done.

BUT THE GOATS. CROWLEY DEFIED HEAVEN AND HELL FOR GOATS. AND-

END END THE SUMMARY NOW.

[ceruleanstargaze]

A while back, me and one of my friends were walking about how hamsters can die in the stupidest ways...

So wrote a little thing about if MC gave the brothers hamsters, how they would die

TW: animal death, of hamsters, it's not graphic or anything just simple sentences -- oh and swearing.... Idk if anyone cares abt that

Lucifer

He probably would try to teach it something like a trick but it would be too dumb to understand and bite his finger. He would just let it sit on his desk in its cage before it could die in one of 3 ways

1. Paperwork got piled up on his desk and covered the hamsters cage, it died from neglect and Lucifer's forgetfulness of it

2. He sneezed or made a loud sound and gave it a heart attack so it died

3. It chewed through its cage and before Lucifer could stop it, the hamster drank his pen ink and fucking died...

Mammon

He probably didn't last long with it because he yelled too loud.

OR, it chewed on his credit card (Goldie) so he shook his card to get it off in a panic and the hamster died from him too vigorously shaking Goldie. The damn hamster died before it even hit the floor.

Leviathan

We know Levi has pets already, so I feel like it would be pretty long lasting. I mean longer than ANYONE could ever in the house because he would remember to tend to it.

Until it either:

1. ran away

2. fell into Henry 2.0's fish tank (or any of the various tanks in his room) and DROWNED.

Satan

He wouldn't have it for that long. Like, at all.

He would probably try to make the hamster and the cat get along and the cat would kill the hamster. Like how cats kill mice and give them to their owners as gifts.

Asmodeus

Asmo would have his for some time, he would definitely decorate its cage and give it like some pretty shit before the hamster started eating the decorations.

Little did Asmo know, what he decorated the cage with could kill the hamster of it ate it. So it died from that.

Beelzebub

Ate it.

No other words. Was it on purpose? Was it on accident? No one knows.

Belphegor

One of two ways this could go, he crushed it or intentionally killed it

1. While Belphie was sleeping the hamster basically chewed through it's cage, got to where Belphie was sleeping and he rolled over crushing the hamster and killing it.

2. It would be like some "how to tell if my son is a psychopath" and one of the things is like torturing small animals. Yeah, that bitch is a murderer and he killed it from just "playing" with it.

So, the order of who's hamster would die first?

1. Beelzebub

2. Belphegor

3. Satan

4. Mammon

5. Asmodeus

6. Lucifer

7. Leviathan

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 1/?

STORY 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26, PART 27, UPDATE

We're finally here! I hope this sequel makes you feel the same excitement the first one gave you. I know I'm excited.

To the new readers, please read STORY 1 first for better understanding of how we got to this point. Trust me, it's important plus! It's a pretty awesome prequel if I do say so myself.

To the readers who have been there since I posted part 1, I hope I make you proud too!

Let's go!

HOOK: A LUCIFER CENTRIC AU - AO3

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

Previously:

A powerful explosion lit up the sky. The sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over Pride. At that moment, everyone became so hot that they couldn't bear it, as if their whole body was on fire. They wanted to rip their skin off just to get a sense of relief but then the sky shut closed. A strong thump was heard by every demon in the vicinity and then they were all thrown a few meters.

It felt like an eternity before Charlie and the others could get their bearings. Those that didn't get knocked out went outside, once there, they see Lucifer far up in the sky, holding up a flaming sword. The signature pentagram of the city has been fractured by whatever happened and demons all around were either hurt or unconscious.

Charlie: Dad!

Charlie calls out to her dad but he doesn't acknowledge her. His gaze never leaving Heaven, as if he's seeing something that no one else can.

A screen locked on Hell zooms out as the machine's voice rang out 'target disengaged'.

An angel looking similarly to Lucifer, except there's blue tints on the spots where Lucifer had reds, was looking down at Hell pulling back a large, golden gun. They blew the smoke residue and sighed.

Michael: Hello, Lucifer... Still causing trouble, I see.

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

Lucifer lands on the now burnt soil of Pride trying to keep his composure calm as those who were not knocked out by the blast panic once again.

His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles strained against the skin, teeth grinding together like stones. He tightens his grip on Lightbringer, knuckles whitening.

'Damn it, Michael!'

In his pure anger, his body moves on its own. Lucifer swung his arm back, Lightbringer's flames tracing a graceful arc through the air. He pivots his back foot and-

How dare Michael! How dare he attack Hell, endanger his home, his family, HIS DAUGHTER!

Before he could launch his sword at Heaven, at Michael, in retaliation, a mass of assorted colors grabs his arms and blocks his view.

It was the Sins.

Lucifer: Let go.

Lucifer lets out a wave of power, they faltered a bit but none released their hold or moved.

Satan: We- shit! We can't do that.

Mammon: Mate, don't do something I would definitely do.

Asmodeus: Stop, Lucifer. this will only make things worse. We'll come up with a plan but we can't afford setting off a war right now!

They're trying to reason with their King but Lucifer's eyes are still looking through them.

Lucifer: I'm not the one who started this.

Beelzebub: We know, babe! But! You're getting pissed off more than Satan over here on a normal day. It's not a cute look.

Satan: Hey!

Belphegor: Ozzie is right.

Leviathan: Calm down, Luci.

He was about to shake them off and continue what he was about to do until-

Charlie: Dad!

And just like that Lucifer's anger recedes. He slumps a little into the Sins' holds and calls back Lightbringer.

Charlie and the hotel residents were the first to reach him, he can feel his daughter's hands all over him checking for any injuries as the others worry about what happened. And what the fuck was that?? Was that Heaven??

He was about to say something when they were suddenly blinded by flashes and a bunch microphones being shoved at his face. His family were screaming obscenities for the press to back the fuck up.

'How did they get here so fast?'

Reporter 1: -Your Majesty! Can you tell us what was that??

Reporter 2: -Lucifer, over here! Was that a direct attack from Heaven?

Reporter 3: -Does it have anything to do with what happened in Sloth?

Reporter 4: -Lucifer! Lucifer! Does this mean a war with Heaven is about to happen??

Reporter 5: -Sire, the Pentagram symbol above is destroyed! Is that a barrier? If so, do we not have any protection against Heaven anymore?

Reporter 6: -Are you any match for Heaven's higher forces?

Questions after questions. It doesn't stop even with the threat of the Sins.

'Too loud. Too noisy. ShutupShutupShutupShutupShutupShutupShutupShutupShutupShutup SHUT UP!'

He looks directly at the group vultures, letting Roo's attributes surface more.

Lucifer: Fall.

The noise stops and the next moment the demons around them fell to the ground fast asleep.

Not even Charlie berated him for using that ability against their will.

Lucifer: Alright. Why don't we talk inside?

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

I feel like the start of my AUs are always short but I hope y'all will support me again 'til the end!

Read STORY 1 here!

[supernatural-bias]

𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in which crowley has a cold

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: like real people do—hozier

masterlist!

Spring was a wonderful time of year all over the world. It was when the sun peaked its head out from behind fluffy clouds and let the flowers bloom, washing away any gloom winter might have left behind.

Walkways suddenly became full of pedestrians meandering about in city's and small towns alike. Large puffy parkas were shed in favor of light jackets and shorts.

Shops were suddenly bustling with all sorts of people out and about, taking advantage of the beautiful weather to buy a coffee or new pair of pants.

But in Soho, London, one shop seemed to be an outlier.

If any of the passing foot traffic had taken a moment to peak into the glassy windows of said shop, an elegant sign reading Fell & Co hanging over their heads, they would have had the pleasure of seeing three very different people all talking to each other idly.

Even if the conversation was anything but.

"Really Aziraphale, you think he'd be a bit less chatty when sick. Peace and quite for once an all that."

A light gasp sounded from your left, prompting you to look at the angel next to you.

"That is not nice!" Aziraphale said your name full of disappointment, prompting an apologetic smile to spread across your lips.

"Sorry, mate. But I'm not wrong, am I?" You said while continuing to help him shelf books.

"Bite me." A lump of blankets behind you growled in response, a head of red hair poking out of one end.

"No, thank you, Crowley. I'll catch your cold."

It was supposed to have been a normal day. You had called and asked Aziraphale if this afternoon was a good day to pop in for a visit, only to be met with the sort of panic that could only be described as fretting.

Apparently, Crowley has never taken too well to the springtime. Who knew a demon could have allergies?

Each time he or Aziraphale attempted to miracle away the cold, it would just pop back up a few seconds later. It was as if someone had cursed him with a mild inconvenience. You wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case, actually. I mean, this is Crowley you're talking about. He's not exactly the best at making friends—even if he did manage to snag you somehow.

By the time you had arrived at the bookstore, swinging open the door as the closed signed clattered against it loudly, they had given up on any thought of magical remedies.

So here you were. Hovering over the sick demon with a concerned look. Er, well, Aziraphale was. You had opted for more of a quirked eyebrow, not willing to show how worried you were just yet. Lord, er Satan, or whoever the fuck knows Crowley wouldn't let you live that down.

"If anything Crowley—" You paused for a moment to flip the book you had been holding upside down into its rightful place before handing it off to Aziraphale, "—I'd say this is karma from all those times you yell at your plants."

"To hell with my damn plants!" He sniffled, sun glasses no longer on his face as he glared at your back.

Before you could get a word in edgewise, a sneeze sounded out from the couch. Without even looking, your knee-jerk reaction kicked in.

"God bless you."

You got two very different reactions out of that.

Aziraphale practically beamed at your words, and Crowley hissed as if physically hit, curling in on himself. It wasn't until you stopped to consider what you had just said that you realized your blunder.

"Sorry." You cringed. "Forgot about the demon stuff."

"Forgot? Remind me, angel, why do we even keep them around." Crowley spat, pulling yet another blanket onto his ever growing pile. You risked a glance back at him only to be met with slitted eyes. You simply let out a nervous laugh before scooting to a different bookshelf farther away from him. Better safe than sorry when it came to your demon friend.

"Because we like them, remember? They complimented my vest and your Bently, and then you asked if we could keep them." The angel responded. If he noticed how you choked on air at that last bit, he didn't choose to say anything.

"He said what now?" You coughed harshly at the same time Crowley groaned.

"Yeah yeah. A mistake in the heat of the moment." Was all he said before retreating further into the blanket burrito he had concocted. Somewhere in there was a quilt you were sure Aziraphale had knitted for him centuries ago, but you chose not to point out the tiny detail, instead filing that information away for later as a hidden smile played at your lips.

"As much fun socializing with you two is, I must admit you need to get some rest, Crowley. If we are to fix this problem without a miracle, the human way will have to do." Aziraphale turned to face his companion after you helped file the last pile of books away. You were quick to follow his actions.

Crowley opened his mouth as if to retort, but his eyes flickered from your face and Aziraphales for just a moment. With that he muttered something under his breath and turned over grumpily.

"Just—bugger off." His words were muffled by a dense pillow currently being smooshed to his face. You couldn't tell if it was that or something else, but his voice didn't sound as venomous as it normally did when talking to you.

"Alrighty then!" Aziraphale clapped his hands with a smile, none the wiser. "Ring if you need us, won't you?"

With that, he began to politely exit in the direction of the back of the store. Probably to go read a new series he just got in or re-read another.

You shuffled off behind the angel—only pausing at the entrance to the backroom after taking one more look back at Crowley.

Without saying a word, you took your phone out and set the volume just high enough to be heard. Setting it down on a nearby surface, you pressed play before quickly tip toeing out the room. As if that would stop the fallen angel from figuring out who left it there.

You slipped away just in time to miss Freddy Mercury's voice start-up. As well as the way Crowley smiled in spite of himself, starting to feel a little better already.

[da-rulah]

Rituale Septem - Day 4: Wrath

Pairing: (Secondo x f!reader)

Summary: After being stood up and lied to, Secondo is seething. You should have known better than to go back on your word. Meanwhile, Terzo is facing a wrath of his own...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Angst, potentially a little dub-con but this is consensual (safe word included), both are willing parties, m dom & f dom, manhandling, degradation, oral (m + f receiving), throat fucking, spit kink, face sitting, face riding, p in v sex, angry/hate sex, BDSM elements, belt spanking, belt leash, breath play 

This chapter features some more extreme sexual themes. If angry sex/mild dub-con/degradation is something you do not think you could handle right now, then please do not read this chapter. If you need plot updates, DM me. I’m happy to share. Your mental health is far more important than a chapter in a fic. Take care of yourself first. 🖤

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: @angellayercake once told me we need more Secondo smut in the world. I agreed. So here you go... 😈 The plot really begins to thicken here... so, please let me know if you're enjoying it so far, and don't forget to reblog to help me share my work! 🖤

Prev: Day 3 - Gluttony | Next: Day 5 - Envy

October 28th 

You could get used to this.  

Expensive silk sheets made a nice change from your usual standard issue cotton. You couldn’t help nuzzling into the fabric, enjoying the soft plush pillow beneath your head and the weight you could feel draped over your waist. As you came to, you reached down and felt the strong arm wrapped around you, the softness of the skin and the tickle of arm hair...  

Papa.  

You awoke suddenly then, eyes shooting open to the lowlight of the bedroom where the drapes were shut and autumnal sunlight tried desperately to push its way through. Papa’s bare chest was pushed up against your back, cradling you close to him. You hadn’t expected to fall asleep here last night, only to have spent the evening and made your way back to... 

Secondo... 

“Shit,” you thought to yourself, panic rising in your chest. You’d stood Secondo up. You promised him you’d help him with his work and you never showed... How long had he waited for you? Thirty minutes? An hour? Longer...? It didn’t matter. Whatever time he’d spent waiting for you was bad enough. You had to go, and quickly.  

Carefully, you lifted the arm curled around you and slithered from Terzo’s hold, letting his arm down gently as not to disturb him. He grumbled a little but settled quickly, and you stood without looking back at him once. Your dress from the previous night had been draped over the back of an accent chair in the corner of the room, and so you reached for it to pull over your still naked form, cursing yourself for having to do the walk of shame through the halls in last night’s dress. Hopefully the time was still early, and the halls were still quiet... You’d hate for your siblings to see you out of your habit. 

The rustling had woken Terzo, whose gaze remained transfixed on your back as you pulled the dress on, struggling a little with the zipper. He kept quiet, a strange feeling of disappointment in his gut. He’d thought that if you were to rush out of here so early, you might have had the inclination to wake him, maybe exchange a few words before running away. And yet, in your panic, you were running out of his bedroom faster than he could say ‘Hell Satan’.  

You didn’t even look back at him – and it stung. 

If you had, perhaps you would have seen the sombre look on his bare face. Sure, he could have said something to stop you – a simple good morning would have sufficed, but he was a stubborn and emotionally devoid man. If you didn’t even think to turn back and say a word to him, then like a toddler he would sulk and stay quiet himself. Have it your way.  

He knew where you were running off to. After all, he was the one to orchestrate this plan; although now he regretted it immensely. Perhaps there would have been another way, but with very little time left to plan each sin and make them authentic, he had to stick to letting you run off to face his brother’s wrath. He hated the thought that today, he wouldn’t get to have you again. This wouldn’t be his day. He had to let you go – and whilst on any other occasion he might have enjoyed the view, today he found himself rolling onto his back and covering his face with his arm after you’d shut the door behind you. He let out a deep breath and a low groan, and allowed himself to sulk.  

In Terzo’s living room, you stopped dead. Immediately you realised you weren’t alone – three ghouls were surrounding the dining table you’d made such a mess of last night. Swiss, grinning wildly at you with a taunting wave, Dewdrop, who nodded courtly and... Phantom.  

And he could barely look you in the eye. 

“Oh, um... Good morning,” you mumbled, adjusting your dress below your knees and folding your arms over your chest.  

“Mooooorning,” Swiss teased. “Quite the mess out here, Sister. Good meal?” This little shit. 

“Yeah, g-good. I’ve um... Gotta...” you pointed at the door and made a run for it, turning your back to the Ghouls cleaning up the stains and remnants of food and dishes.  

“Phantom, don’t stare at Sister ______’s ass while she walks away!” Swiss overdramatically accused, “I know that dress is gorgeous, but have some respect!” 

“NO! No, I... I wasn’t, Sister, I s-swear!” Phantom protested, desperately pleading while Swiss and Dewdrop laughed behind him.  

“I believe you, Phantom. Swiss, shut the fuck up,” you pointed at him threateningly with a scowl, to which he flipped you off – all in good fun, but you rolled your eyes regardless.  

Before any further embarrassment was thrown your way, you quickly left Terzo’s apartment and darted through the halls of the Ministry. Luckily, it was indeed early enough that you didn’t run into any siblings. However, somewhere along your way you had encountered a rather shocked looking Cardinal Copia on his way to his little workshop in the corner of the library where he restored and translated ancient texts; who for a moment let his eyes rake over your body in that fucking dress, before stuttering out a “Buongiorno Sorella” and averting his eyes as you strode past him. 

“Good morning, Cardinal,” you retorted dryly, not slowing or stopping to see the way his jaw had dropped, his cheeks had flushed pink and his poor mind had gone blank as he watched you power walk away. Frankly you wanted to avoid any and all social interaction possible, and so you hurried back to your own modest little abode to change, freshen up, and haul your ass down to Secondo’s office. 

Satan only knew what was waiting for you when you showed... 

The office was empty when you arrived.  

Papers littered Secondo’s desk; papers that he was likely up late working on because you hadn’t shown up. They looked messy, disorganised. It was out of character for him, the most organised man you had ever met. The fear and the dread rose like bile in your throat, but you swallowed it down and took your seat. Looking at the clock on the wall, he should be here already. You were in fact fifteen minutes late, so where the hell was he?  

You began to worry as the minutes passed, your leg bouncing anxiously under the skirt of your habit. You watched the clock on the wall, wondering when he would walk through that door and reprimand you as you’d expected. To busy yourself you stood, wondering over to his desk to begin sorting through the mess of papers and trying to organise them so he at least wouldn’t be mad they were still in disarray.  

After a torturous 27 minutes clock-watching, the doorknob rattled, and the door smacked against the stone wall with a loud bang. You jumped up from Secondo’s chair with a gasp, tripping on the legs of it and stumbling to one side. Secondo stepped into the room and reached back for the door, slamming it shut again so hard you thought the wood might splinter. Thankfully, it did not.  

“P-Papa... you scared me,” you said, trembling where you stood. His eyes flickered to your face as he skulked towards his desk, dark and unforgiving. He didn’t say a word, sitting himself down at his desk and ignoring you completely. “I-I... I wasn’t sure you were coming... I was about to come and find you, I thought maybe you were sic-” you began babbling away out of nerves, but he interrupted you. 

“I’m fine, Sorella. Merely working to your timetable, sì?” It was dry, sarcastic. You knew what he meant; late because you were late. It was petty, but you knew he could be the pettiest man on earth when he wanted to be. It irritated the fuck out of you.  

“About that, I’m sorry I was late last night...” 

“Late?!” he raised his voice, looking up at you now. His face was a picture of fury, eyes squinting and lips pursed. “Late doesn’t cover it, eh? You didn’t bother to come at all, if memory serves me.” Every word dripped venom, like a snake sizing up its prey.  

“W-well... I did, but when I came you were go-”  

“HA!” he scoffed, obnoxiously loudly, “Do not insult my intelligenza (intelligence) by lying to me. By 11:30pm I had neither seen nor heard from you. Not even a call to say you could no longer make it. Perhaps if you had at least granted me that kindness, I would have been okay with working alone long into the night. But no, not so much as a message from a Ghoul.” 

He’d caught you in your lie, and it had made him even angrier. You could see the way his chest rose and fell under his robes as he tried to contain it.  

“I-I’m sorry...” you began, but he simply would not allow you to finish a single damned sentence.  

“Oh, no. It’s fine, Sorella. I’m sure you had more important things to attend to, hm?” His sarcasm was poisonous. If he was angry, then fine. You deserved that much. But his snide attitude? That was never necessary, and it was grinding your last gear... And actually, yes. This was more important than some paperwork he needed doing. Everything you held close to you was at stake if you didn’t complete this ritual correctly. So, you got a little carried away last night. You fell asleep, exhausted. But if he knew the reasons why, maybe he wouldn’t be acting like such a Grade A prick about it all – at least, not if he cared about you in the slightest like he claimed he did yesterday. 

“I think you should know what’s been going on, Papa... I’ve been-” yet again, he interrupted you.  

“Oh, I know where you’ve been. Opening your legs for my stupido fratellino (stupid little brother) and his ghouls, eh? I didn’t take you for such a common puttana (whore), but I suppose a man can be wrong.”  

You stared at him, your eyes wide and glassy with unfallen tears. He’d never spoken to you like this before... He’d been angry at you in the past, sure, for making silly little mistakes in filing or in paperwork when you were just starting out but this? Calling you a whore? This was different. This hurt.  

“If you would just let me speak, Papa,” you spoke slowly, deliberately, and through clenched teeth. It took every ounce of restraint you had to keep your composure, to not let the tears spill down your cheeks in anger.  

“For what purpose? So you can tell me how you spent the evening hanging off my brother’s dick? Spare me, I do not wish to listen to that,” he held up his hand to silence you – and you saw red. 

“No, y’know what? You’re going to listen to this whether you like it or not.” Secondo looked up at you then, eyes wide and wild with rage.  

“Mi scus-” No. He was done talking. Time to listen.  

“I don’t care, what stupid little feud you have with your brother. That is none of my concern and frankly does not involve me, Papa.” You asserted yourself, taking a step closer to where he sat and staring him down. Your tears had spilled by now, leaving tracks on your cheeks but your eyes glazed over with fury instead, heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Just who do you think you are talki-” 

“Yesterday you pretended to care about me, what, so you could throw it back in my face when you felt like it? You said you didn’t want me to be scared of you – well guess what; I’m not. And if you think I’m going to stand here and let you call me a whore to my face, you are sorely mistaken. How dare you judge me, when you have no context to the situation at all!” you yelled at him, your temper taking over. 

“In what possible context would you screwing mio fratello become something I’d be okay with?” he asked, matching your decibels. Anyone walking past would hear every word through the door, but you couldn’t pay that thought any mind right now. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; perhaps you are making your way through the entire bloodline, eh? That’s two of us down...” he mocked, jabbing at the night the two of you spent together after Terzo’s ascension. You scoffed at the idea. 

“That’s hilarious...” you laughed maniacally. “You think I started that? You came onto me. You poured every ounce of resentment you had into a shot glass and chased it with whiskey. You buried your anger and hurt in the closest and most willing pussy you could find that night, which just so happened to be the assistant who’d do anything to make you stop hating her for trying to learn how to do her fucking job!” 

Secondo stood from his chair suddenly, his face hardened in an expression that read solely of enmity. On any normal day you may have cowered, but you could not back down now. You’d come too far, and none of what you were saying was a lie. He needed to hear this. He needed to know that you weren’t going to roll over and take being called a whore or spoken down to anymore – even if it cost you your job at his side. 

“Or maybe you were trying to position yourself by the side of a Papa for status, eh?” he taunted. How could he say that? Didn’t he know you at all...? 

“If there is one thing you know about me, it is that I do not care for such petty things as ‘status’. I slept with you because I thought you needed someone that night, because I could see you going off the rails. You were acting like a petulant, spoilt fucking child who couldn’t stand to see his little brother take his spot after he had been demoted.” 

He snapped at that, your words finally pushing him off the edge... He strode towards you, gripping onto the tops of your arms and pushing you until your back hit the stone of the wall to his left. He got in your space, his nose barely an inch from yours as his mismatched eyes bore furiously into yours. 

“You make it sound as if I coerced you, Sorella. Like you weren’t all over me when we danced, like your hands weren’t wandering when we stepped out for fresh air and a cigarette. Like you weren’t as drunk as I was and the one who kissed me first.”  

You stayed quiet, knowing he was right. He had you there; you had kissed him first that night, but he had been teasing you, flirting with you all night and if it hadn’t been you, it wouldn’t have been long before it was him. You were both drunk out of your minds, and since then you hadn’t spoken of that night with each other even once. You agreed the morning after to keep it a one-time affair; no strings, no feelings, no repeat offenses.  

So how would you explain the stirring in your gut when he pushed you against the wall, pinning your wrists either side of your head? 

“You know for a fact, Papa, that you let your pettiness and spite get the better of you that night,” you spat, choosing to ignore that feeling and continue to fight him. “That's what this is, isn’t it? You were jealous of Terzo then,” you leaned your head forward until your noses were barely touching, staring up into his eyes with your teeth bared, “and now that I’m fucking him? You’re jealous now, too.” 

With a growl you hadn’t expected to rip from his chest, Secondo hauled you from the wall by your wrists and pulled you towards his desk, manhandling you until he had you bent over the wood with your arms behind your back, leaning over you to whisper into your ear with a quiet acidity to his tone that scared you more than if he’d screamed, “I can give you anything il mio fratellino can, Sorella.” 

A thrill ran through you as you found yourself in a position of complete submission, the warmth of Secondo’s breath tickling your earlobe as he whispered.  

“You seem to forget, even intoxicated, I gave you a night of pleasure like no other, hm?” he chuckled darkly, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades where he pressed you into the wood, “And you think I could be jealous of that stronzo?”  

You’d be lying if you said he was having no effect on you. Anger radiated through your body, pumping hot and fast through your veins and centring on one focal point – your core.  

“If you would like to know what’s got me so fottutamente livido (fucking livid) it’s the fundamental disregard for everybody else around you. You forget your place, dolcezza. You are my assistant,” he shook his grip on your arms as he growled in your ear, your body lifting and slamming back into the wood beneath you, “You are mine, _____. And you will respect me as your fucking Papa.”  

He let go of your arms with a final shove into the desk, and took a step back, watching as you panted and seethed in place unsure if you should move yet or not. Part of you wanted to apologise and go back to being the doting and feeble assistant. Part of you wanted to stand up for yourself, to walk out and take your anger out on someone else. And part of you wanted to see how far you could push him until he truly snapped... 

“I don’t fucking belong to anybody, Secondo,” you snarled his name purposefully instead of his title, standing up straight and turning to face him. You watched as his hands balled into fists, the creases in his forehead deepening impossibly under his paint and eyes turning into slits.  

“You talk too much, Sorella,” he spoke slowly, through teeth clenched so tight you thought they might shatter. You had seen him this angry before, but never at you. You could potentially be ruining your relationship with him right here in this moment, getting yourself fired – even banished if he was angry enough. You had disrespected a former Papa, after all. And the least forgiving... “Get on your knees. Now.” 

He left no room for negotiation, but still you hesitated, eyes darting for the door and calculating briefly how you would make a run for it and where you would go should things turn sour. But there was a nagging feeling in your mind, a tiny voice that told you ‘no, stay. You are safe with him. You both need this...’ 

And so slowly, you did as he told you to, lowering first to one knee, then the other, whilst holding eye contact.  

“You will apologise.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it a request. And yet, you stayed silent, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your own anger silently simmered away inside you. He scoffed when you said nothing, threading his leather-clad fingers through your hair and pushing your veil off your head in the process, before tightening his grip and angling your head up to him. He leaned over you, hovering so close you could practically taste him already... “Apologise.” 

A beat of silence passed, before you pushed your luck once again, “you first.”  

He laughed; a dark, menacing laugh that had your cheeks flushing and the heat pooling at your core throbbing.  

“Forget it, then. Perhaps punishment is more fitting, hm? Perhaps, seeing as it is your mouth that got you in trouble, you should use your mouth to get you out of it, too.” He leaned his head to one side, coming to whisper in your ear, “The safe word is ‘cranberry’. If you cannot speak, you tap out three times. Nod if you understand.” 

Your lips parted as a breathy whimper left your throat, your head nodding in understanding without so much as a second’s hesitation.  

“Brava piccola puttana (Good little whore),” he praised, the fingers in your hair tightening with a squeak of the leather and pulling with a pleasing sting on your roots. He stood up straight again, looking down at you on your knees for him and smirked. “Your mouth, Sorella. Put it to better use than talking back to me.” 

As he spoke, he reached between where the material of his robes met. You heard a buckle jingle, a button pop and a zipper undo, some more rustling... but you didn’t remove your gaze from his even for a split second. Not even when you felt the unmistakable silky softness of skin pressing lightly against your bottom lip, where he gently pressed the head of his cock in wait, expecting you to open up for him.  

Secondo had been hardening from the moment you’d raised your voice at him. He liked a challenge, and rarely found a woman who would fight back with him. Having a long line of lovers who are so willing to submit to you is fine, of course. It gets him off, he enjoys it. But on the rare occasion a woman defies him so outwardly, pushes his buttons as much as he pushes hers? It lights a fire hotter than hell itself inside him. 

He half expected you to run for the hills, to stand up and tell him he was being a perverted old man who thought only with his cock, and so he was only just able to hide his surprise when you actually opened your lips to him, and waited for him to push forward. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of engulfing his head for him... 

Slowly but surely, he pushed his hips forward, the head of his cock slipping past your open lips and settling on your tongue. He bared his teeth, clenching his jaw in a sadistic smile when he felt the wet heat on the underside of his cock, and your lips closed around his length.  

“Molto bene puttana, (very good, whore),” he jeered, “See? You do know what to do with that mouth. Now, you’re gonna take what I fucking give you, hai capito? (understand?)” You muffled an affirmative hum around his length, still unable to move your head as he held onto your hair tightly. With his free hand, he lightly slapped your cheek twice as if to praise a pet, before he started to rock his hips back and forth, savouring the drag of your mouth on his cock. 

Secondo lost himself pretty quickly, thrusting only half of his length in and out of your lips as not to overwhelm you to begin with but the pace he set was rapid and aggressive. He grunted with every snap forward, snarling like an animal every time you’d tighten your lips or suck harder on his outwards strokes. 

“Can you take all of me, dolcezza?” he said, the pet name dripping with sarcasm. You blinked up at him and hummed again, your thighs pressing together beneath you as the arousal started to build, and a familiar wetness began to pool between your legs... He pushed himself forward all the way, your nose burying into the patch of hair above the base of his dick where his robes parted, and his suit trousers were undone underneath. His cock filled your throat, and had you not already relaxed it you may have gagged on his length. 

“That’s it, Sorella, take it all...” he growled above you, starting to move your head for you with the hand still gripped tightly in your hair. The pull on your roots was painful, but nothing you didn’t enjoy under the right circumstances – and these were certainly the right circumstances. With each push and pull of your hair, the saliva gathered in your mouth and spilled around his length, creating trails down your chin. Your eyes watered at the force of his cock in your throat and the pain of your hair being pulled. You looked like a mess, and he fucking loved it.  

“Perhaps instead of disobeying your Papa and having an attitude, this will teach you to show me some fucking respect, eh?” he scolded, his hips unable to keep still and meeting his hand pulling on you with each downward stroke of his length. You were struggling to breath, gagging around him and getting tiny little gasps of air through your nose where possible, until he pulled out of your throat completely with a loud gasp and a trail of saliva connecting the head of his cock to your lips. He held your head upright as he stared you down.  

“I don’t... have... a fucking attitude,” you answered back between breaths. His face curled into one of utter disgust, and before you knew what was happening, Secondo’s cheeks hollowed and he spat down onto your face, the glob landing just between your nose and top lip.   

“Shut the fuck up, puttana (whore),” he bellowed, his voice sending vibrations of lust through to your centre. Your thighs squeezed together and your eyes teared up at the humiliation. “Clean yourself up,” he demanded, his free hand now gripping your chin to hold you still underneath him.  

Reluctantly, you parted your lips, your tongue coming to lick at the glob of saliva settled under your nose and gather it on your tongue. Secondo smirked, lining his cock up with your tongue and dragging the head through his own spit, drawing little circles over the surface. You could taste the hint of precum that had gathered on his tip as he watched you.  

“You can take orders, hm? Brava,” he praised, before roughly shoving his cock back down your throat and beginning a punishing pace once again. He threw his head back in pleasure, holding you still with both hands as he fucked your throat. Your hands flew to his thighs, gripping at the muscles to steady yourself and give yourself something to hold onto. Your nails digging into his thighs over his robes and trousers still had a bite to them, sending him spiralling further into pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled his cock from your throat and took a step back, letting you fall onto all fours where you lost your balance gasping for breath and drooling onto the stone.  

“You don’t deserve my cum yet, Sorella. You will work for it,” he panted, gripping the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm that had clearly been so close. “Take off your habit. Sit on the edge of my desk. Do not make me fucking wait,” he warned. 

You gathered a sliver of composure before you obeyed, unbuttoning your habit as you stood, ignoring the drool and tears painting your face. If you had caught your reflection at that moment, you’d have seen your eyes smudged of mascara, your cheeks stained red with arousal and anger, your lips swollen and shimmering from his assault. Secondo thought you’d never looked prettier...  

You hesitate for a moment, once finally nude. You place your palms flat on the short edge of his desk and lean down, your mind racing. He was being the asshole here, not you... He should be the one on his fucking knees for you, begging forgiveness for daring to call you a whore at all. You span to face him, your faced screwed up in fury. Before he could berate you for making him wait as he had so clearly warned you not to do, you were grabbing him by the collar of his robe and spinning him, his ass hitting the edge of his desk as you pushed him flat on his back. You climbed on top of him with a knee either side of him, pinning him in place as you straddled his chest.  

“My fucking turn,” you snapped, shuffling forwards until your core aligned with his face. You reached behind you to grab him by the wrists, his hands already coming up to attempt to fight you but you took control too quickly, sinking your hips down until his lips came into contact with your wet, waiting core. Secondo growled into you, before obliging and parting his lips, tongue coming out to lick a fat, wet stripe down through your folds.  

You gasped at the contact, leaning your weight back onto his chest where you held his hands still. You rolled your body, grinding down against his face and using his nose, chin, lips and tongue to your advantage, smearing his paints with your essence. You ground your clit down onto his waiting tongue, using him for your own pleasure the way he had used you. The pent up anger and frustration of that morning was pushed into every roll of your hips, grinding harder and harder down with no regard for Secondo’s lung capacity. He knew what to do if he needed to tap out, but he took it. He let you use him, barely tried to fight you as he lost himself in how you tasted on his tongue.  

You wailed as the pleasure built, moans of ecstasy mixing with grunts of aggression. You let go of Secondo’s wrists and immediately his hands flew to wrap around your upper thighs, holding you down against him as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His tongue buried itself deep inside you at every given opportunity, his nose becoming the focal point for your clit to grind in circles to accumulate as much pleasure as you possibly could.   

You fell forwards, hands slamming to the desk to steady yourself on all fours. Your hips bucked onto his tongue, cries of bliss rolling from your own. Heat bloomed and radiated, your orgasm approaching impossibly fast as you put all of your energy, all of your anger into using Secondo’s face to get off. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, completely lost in chasing your high and forgetting that the face below you was indeed attached to a very angry man... he disappeared from beneath you.  

Using his now freed hands he pushed you forward and off balance, sliding down the desk and away from you to stand up, spinning in place to turn back to you. His hands reached out and grabbed your thighs as you screamed incredulous profanities at him, demanding he get the fuck back under you and make you finish. Your focus had been too much on cumming, and you’d lost the power you’d taken within seconds...  

“You’re lucky you got away with that as long as you fucking did, puttana,” he growled, dragging you to the edge of the desk harshly until your legs dropped off, stomach hitting the wood with a thud. You tried to grip the table, to put up more of a fight be he was too quick, and far too strong. You knew you were in trouble, that Secondo would get you back and punish you for that little stunt but it only served to turn you on more, a wave of fresh arousal pooling where his paints were smeared over your dripping cunt while you clenched around nothing desperately. 

“What am I gonna do with this attitude of yours, eh? You think it’s okay to defy your Papa? To use him for your own fucking pleasure?” As he reprimanded you, you could hear the buckle of his belt jingling again and the telltale sound of the leather being dragged through his belt loops. “Clearly my cock in your throat wasn’t punishment enough, hm? You need to really be taught a lesson, Sorella.” 

He gathered the leather belt in his hands, creating a bend and running it down your spine as he held you still with one hand.  

“What, are you gonna hit me with it? Do your fucking worst,” you taunted, wriggling your bare ass and earning a dark chuckle from behind you. Before you had time to ready yourself, he brought the leather down to your ass cheek in one very quick, very harsh smack. Your body jolted, chest falling flat against the desk as you cried out. The sting was incredible, and yet, all it did was turn you on more. That mix of anticipation, pain, pleasure all at once... It was dizzying.  

“Aw, poor Sorella. That’s left a mark already...” he mocked, running his gloved hand over the welt he’d created before delivering another harsh smack over the other cheek, revelling in the way you squeaked and writhed for him.  

And there was nothing you could do – not that you wanted to stop this at all. You had your safeword if you needed it, but the throb of your neglected pussy was all you needed to tell you that you fucking needed this. All of the frustrations and hurt that had built up over the last few months, maybe even years, around your wavering faith and your doubt were coming to a head, spilling out in how you were acting and finally expressing themselves. This experience was nothing but cathartic, whether you were the one controlling it or not.  

Right now, Secondo and his wrath were exactly what you needed... one belted spank at a time.  

Terzo sat at his desk, foot tapping rapidly against the stone floor of his office. He leaned his forehead on his palm, staring down at the document beneath him, re-reading the same paragraph once, twice, three times before he gave up with a sigh, leaning back against his chair. His focus was all off, every tiny little thing around him irritating him to no end.  

His mind was too busy. Occupied, regrettably, with thoughts of you.  

His mind raced with images of the previous night; how enraptured he’d been in you, how he lost himself in the intimacy and passion you’d shared. And in contrast, he ran the events of this morning over in his head; how you’d left so suddenly without so much as a ‘good morning’ or a look in his direction. Probably running off to Secondo, scared of him after you’d stood him up last night.  

Ah yes, Secondo. You’d be with him right now, wouldn’t you? And if all had gone to plan, he’d probably be taking his wrath out on you as he sat there in his office. Or maybe you’d be the one to be so angry at him, you’d taken the control. He wasn’t sure which was worse... 

He despised the idea.  

He regretted putting this plan in motion, using his brother to carry out wrath with you. He should have found a way to do it himself; he didn’t want to share anymore. Yes, that was selfish of him. This wasn’t even about him. These were your sins, it was about your devotion to the Dark One. He needed to help you, to guide you so there could be no mistakes made and each sin was performed to the best of your abilities so you could get the clarity and the guidance you needed when all of this was over. That’s what was so important, here. And some sins required different expertise, potentially even multiple people. He would have to deal with that. 

Wherever this jealousy was coming from, it would have to stay locked up tight. He couldn’t pay it the attention he was giving it already. Nurturing it would only allow it to grow, and his possessiveness was just infatuation. This was just some of the most exciting sex he had had in years. It was nothing more than that; black and white.  

And yet, as his mind unwillingly pictured you and Secondo screaming at each other, taking out your anger on each other in the way he knew you would be, his fists clenched and his muscles contracted. Anger of his own bubbled and brewed, spilling over when he smacked at the lamp on his desk, knocking it so hard it hit the floor with a smash. His breaths turned into long, deep exhales as he tried his best to cool himself down, to stop whatever ugly emotion this was that was presenting itself. But that’s the thing about growing up with very little emotional stability... 

You never learn to control it. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was throwing a fit in his office. Papers went flying from his desk, books being thrown against walls, chairs being turned over and clattering on the floor all whilst he growled and barked like an animal, losing any semblance of control he had.  

He kept picturing his brother’s smug fucking grin when he’d tell him you’d performed wrath together. He kept picturing the way you’d left this morning, leaving him cold and alone after what he thought had been a night of unbridled passion together. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid as to get so wrapped up in his own fantasies that he actually thought you might be a little more affectionate towards him, that maybe there was something more between you both.  

He felt like an idiot, and his own humiliation and self-hatred had personified itself in a wrath of his own making.  

Terzo stared at the mess he’d made of his office, his chest heaving in deep breaths. Now, in a post-rage clarity, he laughed at himself, dragging his hands over his face in exasperation.  

“Terzo, you vecchio sciocco (old fool),” he mumbled to himself, just before a timid knock on his door brought him back to reality.  

Sister Christine poked her head through as she opened the door slightly, her eyes widening when she saw the mess of his office. She’d heard the commotion, heard his yells and the string of Italian profanities from her little desk in the adjoining office.  

“Is everything alright, Papa?” she asked, scared to enter the room in case he might turn on her. He’d never raised his voice to her once in her time as his assistant, but there was something different about him lately. He was distracted, irritable, overstressed and overworked.  

Terzo chuckled at his own ridiculousness, before meeting Christine’s eyes and smiling softly in an attempt to reassure her.  

“Fine, Sorella. Mi scusi, I had a little... accident,” he lied, not bothering to come up with anything better.  

“O-oh... Well, I’ll help you clean up,” she stepped into the room then, heading for some of the scattered papers on the floor by the door.  

“No, per favore... This was my fault. I’ll... I’ll do it,” he sighed, walking over to where she crouched on the floor and taking the papers from her hands gently. “Grazie, but please. Would you leave me?” he asked, a wave of sadness crossing his features that Christine certainly didn’t miss, but didn’t mention either. Her brow just furrowed as she nodded silently.  

“If you do need anything Papa, please tell me. It is my job, after all,” she said as she left, smiling comfortingly before closing the door behind her. She was a sweetheart, Sister Christine. Terzo knew that anything he needed, she’d happily humour him. She certainly had in the past... Sister Christine had been a source of stress relief for him more than once. Perhaps that’s exactly what he needed; a distraction, or rather, a reminder that you were not the only woman who could give him what he needed.  

Maybe that could break the spell you seemed to have cast over him...  

It was that thought that sparked an idea in his mind. A wicked, devious idea... but it might just work. 

You'd lost count how many welts Secondo had painted into your ass cheeks, tears brimming and flowing from your eyes as he landed one final, harsh blow that hit your swollen pussy between the swell of your ass cheeks. It sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body as you sobbed into the fist you bit down on to keep from screaming.  

“Some very pretty shades of red and purple back here now, Sorella,” Secondo marvelled, grazing his palm over your ass. “Bellissima.” You just whimpered in response, unable to think of anything smart to quip back at him.  

“Does it hurt, dolcezza?” he patronised you, rubbing light circles over the welts.  

“N-no...” you lied, one last act of defiance. 

“Questo tuo dannato atteggiamento... (that damn attitude...)” he growled, “Am I going to have to fuck it out of you, puttana?” 

You didn’t respond with words, instead gathering some strength in your weakened legs to push your ass back against him, his cock still hard and ready for you beneath his robes. You felt his length and chased it, but he backed his hips up out of reach and held you tighter down on the desk.  

“How am I going to keep you where I put you, hm?” he asked rhetorically. Looking back at him, you saw him staring down at you with messy paints where you’d sat earlier. His face was dark and mocking, the belt still looped in his hands. He saw your eyes drift down to the leather, and smirked as an idea came to him. “That could work,” he chuckled, letting go of you and threading the belt through the buckle.  

He leaned forward, looping the homemade collar over your head and letting the buckle slide to tighten the loop around your neck like a leash. He pulled lightly on it and watched as your back arched, head lifting like he’d planned. Now he truly had you where he wanted you...  

“Now, Sorella, you’re going to take every inch of my cock, and you’re going to thank me for it. Do you understand me?” You would have nodded if you had the flexibility to, but instead you whimpered against the tightness around your neck. “Words, puttana.” 

“Y-yes,” you choked. He tugged sharply at the belt. 

“Yes, what?” You chewed on your lip a little, hesitating. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you didn’t have a whole lot of choice in this position...  

“Yes... Papa...” you spat, straining as your hands held you up on the desk for some light relief against your new leash. 

“Bene,” he praised briefly, letting the leash go a little slack while he lined himself up to your puffy and dripping cunt. Without another word, he pushed the head of his cock through your folds and inside your quivering walls. You felt so tight around him, squeezing him impossibly as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out. He grunted, free hand gripping your sore cheeks and squeezing. You clenched around him at the ignition of more pain to your ass and he revelled in it. You liked the pain he was giving you, that perfect balance of the scales of pain and bliss. He often found they worked well hand in hand... 

He allowed you to get used to him with a few gentler strokes of his hips, but before long, he was fucking into you hard. He kept his pace slow and calculated on his outward strokes, but as soon as the head of his cock would be about to pop back out of you, he would ram his hips against your ass in one very quick, very brutal thrust. Each time, he would grunt in satisfaction. Each time, he would pull on your leash. Each time, it would make you cry out. 

It felt fucking euphoric... The girth of his cock stretched you so wonderfully, the pain of your abused ass being slammed into offsetting the undeniable high of direct thrusts to your g-spot. He was using you, teasing you, punishing you. You wanted so much more, needed more stimulation, a release but he was doing just enough to keep you on edge whilst reminding you that he had the control here. You had lost it long ago.  

Secondo poured all of his anger into each thrust, his face carved into an expression that could have killed had you looked directly into his eyes. He was like a man possessed, those slow and deliberate poundings getting quicker and quicker, slowly building as he too lost the control he’d given himself. 

Before long, he gave up trying, allowing his thrusts to get faster without losing that punishing strength. His hips slapped against your ass over and over again, each blissful hit to your g-spot coupled with another shocking burn in your ass. He pulled so tight on the leash your back arched and head fell back, now able to see him upside down as you contorted to accommodate the leather restraint. Your hands kept you upright, the tightness around your neck adding to the high. 

“You’ve been acting like a fucking brat for the last couple of weeks, ______. You think I didn’t notice you whoring yourself out to mio fratello? Your wandering eyes, your tardiness, your blatant disregard for your true fucking Papa?” he hissed, his pace becoming unforgiving. You cried out, already teetering on the edge of an orgasm with the mix of sensations and his degradation. “Tell me who you fucking belong to, puttana.” 

“I-I don’t... belong... to anyone,” you challenged, that same rage from before simmering away at the surface.  

“Wrong,” he pulled sharply at the leash, “try again.” 

“N-Not his...” you snarled.  

“No, not his. Correct,” his cock pounded into you, upward strokes igniting every pleasurable nerve inside you. “Then who?” 

“N-not... not yours... either,” you sassed, sentence broken by each harsh thrust he delivered. He scoffed darkly, using his hand to deliver a harsh smack to your already burning ass.  

“Say that again, I dare you.” You stayed quiet, only whining at the high that you were chasing, so desperate to reach it. “Tell me. Who the fuck do you belong to, _____?”  

That last time you had slept with him, all those years ago, he had been only a fraction of this person. He had been dominant, controlling, angry; yes. But never like this. Never before had he let himself go like this around you. It turned you on to no fucking end...  

“Y-you! Fuck, I belong... to you... Papa...” you conceded. If you didn’t give him what he wanted, he’d never let you cum. And right now, that’s all you wanted. You needed it so fiercely.  

“There’s the truth... brava puttana, (good whore,)” he barked, loosening the grip on the leash momentarily. “Good puttane (whores) cum when they’re told, sì?”  

“Yes, Papa...” You were so close, the pressure in your core ready to burst. 

“Will you cum on my cock when I tell you, Sorella?” he asked, leaning over you to stroke his thumb over your jawline, rutting into you like an animal in heat.  

“Y-yes, Papa... please,” you begged, all defiance and dignity long gone.  

“You ask so nicely,” he scoffed, “cum on my cock. Now,” he demanded.  

You were already too close to be able to deny his request, your body giving in and the build-up of pressure bursting within you like a firework. The sparks flew through your body, igniting every nerve. You wanted to scream, but the sound caught in your throat when he tugged sharply on the leash again, adding another layer to your high. He didn’t relent, stroking his cock over your walls over and over while you clenched and convulsed around him.  

You tightened impossibly on his length as you came down from your delirium, and with just a few more thrusts Secondo was pulling out of you and cumming over your bruised and welted ass. Rope after rope of hot seed hit your skin, the warmth of it only accentuating the burn to your cheeks. The leash around your neck was let go, air flooding your lungs and oxygen going straight to your head. You collapsed to the wood, finally able to let out a gasping moan as your hands gripped the edges of the desk for purchase, for something to ground you. Secondo had to do the same, holding himself up as he caught his breath.  

By the time either of you were able to be coherent, the burn of your ass had dulled and the stains had dried.  

“Sorella, I...” he pushed himself up, standing with a groan at the ache in his back, “I'll get a cloth. Stay there.”  

He hobbled over to the small en-suite toilet, tucking himself back into his trousers and doing them up as he walked. The belt stayed loosely looped around your neck where you lay, your eyes closing in exhaustion and an unwillingness to move. Soon enough, Secondo came back with two damp cloths he’d moistened with cold water. He pressed the first gently to your ass, soothing the welts whilst simultaneously cleaning up the mess he had left there. The second, he dragged over your centre, cleaning you of his smudged paints and your own juices.  

The cool feeling was welcomed, and you were grateful for the care he took. Secondo was a heavy lover, but even last time he had taken good care of you when it was all over. You trusted him to do so now, too. 

He disappeared again with the cloths, rinsing them and coming back to soothe the marks a few times over to cool them once they’d warmed against your skin. Eventually, you felt able to stand, the welts not so bad anymore. Secondo handed you your habit and underwear, allowing you to dress yourself while he took the belt from your neck and removed his robe, hanging it over the back of his chair to thread the belt back through his trousers.  

Rarely did you see Secondo without his robes. He was a proud man, and a stickler for tradition, order and uniform. But each time you would see him in just a shirt and slacks, you were reminded that he too was just a man, under the surface.  

“Difficult to stay mad at you after that,” he chuckled awkwardly, leaning against the back of his chair on his forearms. You adjusted your veil on your head, smiling briefly at him, unable to hold eye contact. You weren’t sure what to do now. Were you to go back to work? Continue your day as if the pair of you hadn't just taken all your rage out on each other in some brutal hate sex?  

“Just for the record... I know you don’t belong to me. Whatever this is,” he motioned to the space between you both, “it’s nothing more than sex. I hold no possession over you, nor do I harbour any hidden romantic feelings for you.”  

You knew that, and you felt much the same. Neither of you had even made a move to kiss the other this time around; just pure sex, a way of venting. Besides, you couldn’t hold romantic feelings towards Secondo. Not now, anyway... 

“I know, Papa. I don’t either.” Secondo smiled softly at that. 

“I know you don’t... Besides, I was more angry that you never showed last night than I was about whatever it is that’s going on with Terzo. That’s your business,” he held up his hands at that, “and you do know how to push my buttons. You probably understand me more than most.” 

He was referring to his jealousy of his brother in general; his anger at being demoted and replaced by a brother he saw as too reckless, too self-obsessed to be ready for the role. You knew how he felt about that after the night of Terzo’s ascension, and his attitude towards Terzo ever since.  

“Not to speak out of turn, Papa, but... you should cut him some slack, I think...” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “he is trying to do what’s best for the Ministry, for his flock...”  

He was helping you, after all... 

“Yes, yes... Perhaps you’re right. He does seem to be stepping up to help more, recently,” he chuckled, reaching towards his desk drawer. “Is he helping you?” he asked suggestively.  

At first, you thought he meant sexually... You figured he was making a crass joke about Terzo helping you orgasm or something stupid along those lines. Until, he pulled out a clipboard from his drawer...  

“W-what’s that?” you asked, suddenly nervous. Did Secondo know? 

“I was talking to him just a couple of days ago, Sorella. He said he was helping you with a problem you were having...” he smirked, picking up his spectacles from his drawer and placing them on his nose, pretending to look over whatever was on the clipboard in front of him.  

“W-well... he is, yes. It’s, um...” you stuttered – how much did he know? 

“He figured I might be able to lend a hand. So, dolcezza,” he looked up over his spectacles at you, flipping around the clipboard for you to see the list with three out of seven sins already crossed off, “shall we cross off ‘wrath’ together?” 

The smug look on his face only barely irritated you, instead amusing you as you shook your head in disbelief.  

“You bastards...” you laughed, dragging your palm over your face. “You fucking planned all this.” 

“Sì,” he laughed, “and it worked a little too well, I think. But eh,” he shrugged, taking a pen and crossing wrath off the list, “cathartic for us both.” 

“I’m going to kill you both,” you threatened, taking a seat at your desk and wincing a little at the pain of your bruised ass.  

“I believe it,” he laughed, taking a seat at his desk too and locating his spare paints in his desk drawers with a pocket mirror, reapplying what you’d wiped away earlier.  

Answering your own question, you did, indeed, simply go back to work. Any anger, spite or irritation was cleared. There were no secrets anymore, and now that you knew Secondo was aware of what you were doing there was an enormous sense of relief. He told you what he knew, what Terzo had told him of your doubts, your struggles. He was supportive, only encouraging you to keep going with the ritual. He wanted to see you succeed. He, like Terzo, wanted to help where he could.  

Did it hurt him that someone he held so close to him was doubting her faith in the Dark One? Of course it did, but it was nothing personal. He couldn’t allow it to bother him or cloud how he saw you. And he had enough faith in Lucifer that should this ritual be completed correctly, he would put you back on the right path.  

You wouldn’t waver for long; and so he pledged to give you whatever you needed to complete this ritual; time off, breaks, supplies, anything... He needed you at his side – his devoted assistant. His friend.  

Terzo was seconds away from tearing his hair out. 

His day had gone from bad to worse when Sister Imperator had burst into his office some time that afternoon, demanding more paperwork of him and dropping stacks of it on his desk. She had given him yet another lecture about his ‘conduct’, going so far as to compare his uselessness to that of his father’s; that had not sat well with him at all.  

If there was one thing he certainly did not want to be, it was anything like that lousy excuse of a padre.  

As the sun set outside his office, he looked out at the view of the Ministry gardens from where he sat. Judging by the stack of papers on his desk still, he would be here long after the sun had dipped past the horizon.  

His mind wandered as he took in the colours; the autumnal oranges, reds and browns only highlighted by the orange glow of a setting sun. It was so beautiful outside. He wished he could go for a walk, enjoy the crisp air instead of being cramped up inside his musty old office. He wished you were at his side, strolling through Primo’s well organised flowerbeds. Perhaps he would take your hand in his, enjoy your company, your chatter. He could get to know you more, learn a little about your history, your likes and dislikes. 

Terzo shook his head of the idea, diverting his attention back to the papers beneath him. He couldn’t think of you right now, or let his mind wander in over-romanticised fantasies. He’d only end up drowning in his delusions, finding himself getting more jealous, yearning for something with you that he knew he would never have. He couldn’t; you would never want him and the baggage he came with. He was not a relationship kind of man. Not a single relationship had ever made it past a month, his inability to let anybody in being his Achille's heel. No matter how perfect the fantasies he’d drawn of you and him were, that would never be the case.  

It had taken him a ridiculous amount of self-searching to even admit that he was having such fantasies to himself. If he couldn’t open his own mind up to the idea of more with you, how could he ever open himself up to you? No, this was just fantasy. He kept telling himself, over and over... just fantasy. Nothing more. This would pass, as it always did.  

When the work day had ended a couple of hours ago, and Sister Christine had left for the day, he had removed his papal paints that were cracking with each harsh frown the stress of the day had brought him. His robes hung up in their usual cabinet, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top button undone; the collar had felt suffocatingly tight in his overburdened state.  

He got to work, focussed on the mountain left for him by Imperator long into the evening with the glow of his lamp – now fixed together with hot glue and a fresh lightbulb – to guide him.  

It was around 8:30pm when you left the mess hall after dinner, thinking you might pay Papa Terzo a visit, tell him that today had gone well and hand him back the clipboard he had given to Secondo. Most of the siblings were in their dorms or hanging around in the mess hall still, and so the corridors were quiet – particularly around the clergy offices, most headed home for the night. At dinner, Sister Christine had sat with you, told you he would be working late. Something to do with Sister Imperator and a stack of files that ‘had to be sorted right away’. You’d sighed to yourself at that; she worked that man too hard.  

Still, at least you knew where to find him. And so, when you arrived at his office door you didn’t knock, assuming he wouldn’t mind you entering unannounced. You would only be quick, letting him know wrath was checked off the list and handing him his clipboard back. 

You opened the door a crack, peering in to see him sat at his desk. He looked exhausted.  

Perhaps it was just the low light, but you could see dark bags under his eyes where his paints usually sat. You realised then, he was completely barefaced. And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was underneath it all... The darkness in the room still concealed him somewhat, but you still could see him. In the years you had known him, you had never seen him without a spec of paint on his face. You would have had you not sprinted from his bedroom that morning, but you weren’t to know that. Right now, whilst you could marvel at what you could see of his good looks under the shadows of the low lighting, you could see he looked truly vulnerable.  

He leaned his head on his hand, fingers gripping tightly at his black locks. They were dishevelled, like he’d been running his hand through his hair over and over all evening at the stress. His forehead was creased in a scowl, and he was muttering to himself in Italian.  

So enamoured in his work as he was, he didn’t notice you looking in on him. He’d missed the creak of the door, and was too involved in his work to notice you peering through the crack. You’d never seen him so stressed, and you figured maybe now was not the time to interrupt his flow. Compared to his work, this was just a trivial matter.  

No, you would come back tomorrow after he’d got some rest. And maybe he’d have a plan for whatever the next sin was to cross off the list.  

Quietly, you closed the door again, careful not to let the latch snap shut and disturb him. You hugged the clipboard to your chest and began sneaking away from his door, heading back to your dorm with a heavy feeling on your chest.  

You couldn’t help but feel for Terzo. If it wasn’t for the workload you knew he’d been given, you would have offered him some solace, maybe asked if he’d like to go for a walk through the gardens for some fresh air? Just a small gesture, to ease the stress and give him the break he deserved. And selfishly, you would have to admit spending some time with him wouldn’t be the worst thing, either...  

But you couldn’t distract him. Not tonight.  

Maybe you could help tomorrow, instead. 

Prev: Day 3 - Gluttony | Next: Day 5 - Envy

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

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[creature-wizard]

This is your reminder that alter programming/trauma-based mind control is a Satanic Panic conspiracy theory. The stuff you might have heard about gem programming, ribbon programming, Greek letter programming, etc., specifically comes from Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler, two far right conspiracy theorists who claimed, among many other things, that:

A global satanic conspiracy intends to enthrone the Antichrist in the year 2000. The push toward gay rights is part of this plan.

Said global satanic conspiracy has been practicing trauma-based mind control/alter programming for thousands of years.

The Nazis' eugenics program wasn't actually about eugenics. It was actually a front for researching mind control, and that Project Monarch was based on research conducted by Dr. Josef Mengele (whom they claim was an "adept in Caballistic magic.")

Fairy tales, fantasy media, movies, and television shows are full of deliberate programming. Some (but not all) of the media they implicate includes The Wizard of Oz, The Chronicles of Narnia, Alice in Wonderland, Disney films in general, A Little Princess, Star Trek, Star Wars, E.T., Tiny Toons, The Simpsons, Frankenstein, Bewitched, and Labyrinth.

Basically, anything that doesn't fit the most narrow-minded picture of Good Wholesome Christian Entertainment is is part of the Illuminati's plan to corrupt the youth and lead them down the patch of witchcraft and into satanism.

They claim, and I quote, "drugs, torture, hypnosis and MPD all work to enhance memory" and "most slaves have some photographic memory capability." They also claim that systemwide photographic memory can be created through brain stem scarring.

Babies can learn to read by six months old with the use of subliminal tapes.

Direct quote, "Vice-President Al Gore is a vampire and carries a briefcase of blood with him."

Hillary Clinton is an Illuminati Grand Dame and programmer.

Adrenochrome is a secret black market drug. (Adrenochrome isn't a drug at all.)

Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler's work is basically a modern mishmash of antisemitic conspiracy tropes and witch panic tropes. Fritz cites fucking Edith Starr Miller as one of his sources.

So why do people "remember" TBMC/RAMCOA? Because they've been coached into it. You can coach people into remembering all kinds of things, as we can very easily see by observing the starseed movement, where people remember past lives in nonexistent places like Lemuria.

If alter programming was a real thing, literature on it would have to exist. I'm talking like, actual manuals that describe in full detail how to conduct all of these rituals and whatnot without killing the victim. The first people who claimed to have experienced this claimed they were programmed back in the 50's, which means it's been seventy years. Not a single manual on this has turned up anywhere; not even in the most depraved child molesters' homes or laptop computers.

RAMCOA is repackaged SRA is repackaged antisemitism and witch panic, end of story.

[universaln0b0dy]

The chill new friend

p.o.v there is a new human student at R.A.D, but instead of trying to replace you they just make you loose your mind. (Accidentally)

(This is just a joke oneshot thingy cooked up at 12.00 pm, like one does. Also the new person is a female oc, with the name Diova. If you want you can change that, but I didn't want to just use a place holder like Notmc or something along the lines.)

The program had been widened to another student. Which isn't surprising because it did so well, you just didn't want to guide someone around. Okay no, you wanted to guide them around if they turned out to be nice.

Well, the day arrived and the new student -also chosen at random- was teleported to where you once stood.

Diavolo welcomed her, introduced her to the brothers and you, before you guy's said your names et cetera, everything went fairly well. Or so you thought.

DiovA looked at everyone held up her finger, excusing herself with the words: "Please give me a minute." Before fainting. All in all not that surprising, but you had the feeling that this could mean trouble.

Well it didn't. The new student was so quiet you occasionally forgot she existed and so did everyone else. You felt bad but it seemed like Diova had a habit of disappearing without a trace.

After the third week of getting spooked when she came out of her room you decided that you would start to hang out with her, maybe to ease your own mind. You've been appointed her guide after all.

Turns out that girl is introverted, much more than Levi. She didn't talk and just existed in her own space. But that lead to some very funny situations:

Satan:

This what has been engraved into your memory as "the cat-cident". It's no secret that he loved cats, so every time he came across a stray he would look to the side once or twice before petting it.

Well, one particular cat was a regular with Satan, they even had a set time when he would give them food. One day you were dragging Diova by the sleeve to make sure you wouldn't loose her again in the crowd. (You never actually lost her, she just went *poof*)

Along the way you came across Satan and the both of you started talking. Until he looked for the cat and you at the exchange student. Both were gone. And this time not in the "ohoho I didn't see you but you were right behind me" type of way, no, both ceased to exist.

That caused you to fall into mild crisis, because you lost a student. In hell. Not just any place. Fucking hell. Great place to loose a person in.

Okay, you didn't loose her, she walked away but you felt like you did. Satan wasn't that bothered by the cats disappearance, cats tend to so that. But he also understood your panic about the exchange student, so the both of you started searching.

For two hours.

You were hyperventilating and on the verge of tears, probably a mild over reaction, but it was one of the most frustrating searches ever. You and Satan had turned over every single stone and asked every person in sight if they had seen her only to be met with a very confused: "Who are you talking about?" Even classmates couldn't remember her.

Satan rubbed soothing circles on your back, noticing your distress. "Don't worry Mc, we will find her." You sighed heavily, realising you probably needed more help with the search. You leaned onto/against Satan for support, grumbling out some frustration.

"I feel like I completely failed as a guide." You mutter, before noticing that Satan shook his head. "Not at all, you did your best and it's not your fault she just left." He nudged you softly. "I would be a lot less patient with someone who is constantly disappearing."

You chuckle/laugh half hearted. "I wouldn't doubt it, you can be a ticking time bomb." It was funny to see how this joke would have had dire consequences at the start of your exchange, but now? With all these adventures Satan would laugh with you.

"I guess we better call Lucifer?" You ask and Satan reluctantly agrees. Before a rather quiet voice asks: "Why? Did something happened?"

You turned around, and there she stood, the stay cat sitting next to her purring contentedly.

A bunch of emotions wash over you, one one end relieve on the other anger. "Where have you been? We searched all other the campus for you!" You ask like a parent that caught their child sneaking out.

Diova looks a bit confused. "I noticed that the cat had some dirt on it's fur so I cleaned that up, only to realise that I forgot something in the alchemy lab. I went to grab it and got back here only to notice both of you were gone." She knits her brow. "But you should now about this, I wrote you a message."

You look at your device only to realise to realise that you forgot to turn on the connection. "And all this time I thought you turned into air!" You cry out half laughing half crying.

Now that it was reconnected to the hell equivalent of wife you saw a bunch of different messages.... from Lucifer.

That would be a fun evening.

The second incident was with Beel.

You had again been on refrigerator protection duty, forced to turn Beel away at his attempts of sneaking food from the kitchen. (We ignore the sandwich you'd smuggle here and there).

Beel came, at about 9pm like clockwork and you both reminisced about life for a few minutes. That's just how it was, like it's own personal routine. If there hadn't been the ghost in the dark hallway.

At first you only noticed it fleeting, it was running around the hallway. It could have been Mammon running away from Lucifer, but then he would have run to you... right? Or did he have a better hiding spot?

You were happy with it until the figure ran by a second time. This time even Beel noticed it and he immediately knew that he didn't know who that was, or what it was.

Now the situation got spooky. For you at least. Beel looked pretty calm. Though it could also just be his resting unexpressive face. You and him decide to check out the noise to see what's going on.

There is indeed a figure running around, only ever stopping shortly, before disappearing around a corner and then showing up again. Something swishing after them like a Cape.

It was almost as if it was a ghost floating around. But that couldn't be was it an intruder? That was unlikely, but still an unconscious doubt settled in your mind.

And then it came back, halting infront of you and Beel. He protectivly extends his arm and you grab it, as if you could throw it should whatever attack.

But it wasn't an whatever. It was Diova, in hoodie and baggy trousers, a blanket over her head. She was holding onto some objects and looked almost a bit embarrassed.

"Oh my Diavolo, you scared me! What were you doing?" You ask confused and she just holds up some beads.

"What are those?" You ask a bit confused. She shuffles her feet looking to the floor like a kid that was just caught breaking a vase. "I tried a summoning spell on my bracelet..." She sighed heavily.

"It broke and the beads teleported into the dining room."

You nod following along, before looking at the beads. Didn't you make a similar mistake once? "Let me guess now the beads must be transported separately or they just disappear again?"

Well the ghost problem was also just a misunderstanding it seemed. You and Beel helped her transport the beads to her room later on and you explained to her what went wrong when she casted the spell.

......

You and her sit in your room. You both got along quite well after a while and you noticed that she didn't disappear into thin air like you thought at first. She was just really quiet and timid in everything she did.

She sits on one of the many chairs in the room you had thanks to the suprise visits of the brothers, playing with her now fixed bracelet. Before looking at you.

"Thank you for being my friend, Mc." You look at her, that sounded strange. Her tone, not the words. "You don't need to thank me for that, but why are you saying that? It sounds like you will go away some time soon?" You ask a bit confused.

Diova smiled. "Did you know the origin of my name?" She asks, dodging your question. Your a bit taken off guard but say what you assume.

She shakes her head. "Its a great idea, but it's actually Avoid, just backwards." She looks a bit sad. "It's been pretty prophetic for me. I've always been the odd one out, no matter where." She shrugged. "So people tend to avoid me."

She flashes you a smile. "I thought it would be the same here.... but you made an effort befriending me." She looks back to the floor. "It's kinda sad to think that all of this is just a dream. "

Her words knock the wind out of your lungs. "What do you mean? Are you feeling okay?" But Diova just smiles sadly giving you a tight hug. You hadn't even noticed she stood up from the chair.

"Thank you for our friendship, even if you are waking up now." The girl mumbled and then you hear it. Your alarm ringing off in the distance.

......

You shoot awake and can't help but stare at the wall for a while. It's as if your brain can't grasp the fact that Diova didn't exist.

No, you wouldn't believe this.

You stand up and look around for pictures. But there are none. You look at the calendar to check the date only to realise... in the dream there hadn't been a consistent date. Only what you assumed was one.

It took an hour and a half for you to grasp that you had dreamt up a whole new friend. She had felt, looked and sounded so real! But she wasn't.

You hear a knock on your door. It Mammon. Before he can say anything you just pull him into a hug. You needed one Oh so desperately, because the dream hurt. And what hurt even more was that already, you were starting to forget.

Forget a fellow friend.....