#definitely read the tags and tw before reading

[elsecrytt]

okay but jjk somnophilia is like

gojo "please please pleaaaaase let me put it in while you're sleeping PLEASE i swear i'll make you cum i proooomise please let's try it once pleeaaase. YOU can put it in ME whenever you want!!! any time any place anything you want in any of my holes!! wake me up with it!! it'll be soooo hot" satoru

vs

nanami "i have kink charts for both of us and they have sliding scales and notes section for each one. we can mark hard boundaries for what state of consciousness we want for ourselves or our partners, giving or receiving, what sex acts, etc. we'll set up a safe word and a safe gesture and then we can start trying things out" kento

vs

geto "sorry i fell asleep while eating you out, it will happen again. no, i won't stop eating you out when i fall unconscious. just tear me off your pussy if you don't like it" suguru

[miwtual]

the lyric “the only way to win is to reconnect, stay alive, stay alive” gives me chills every single time i hear it when i relisten to

[cooliofango]

SEBASTIAN SOLACE FLUFF you walk into his shop looking like death, at first he acts snarky as usual, but he feels bad. you were never flashing him with flash beacons or pissing him off. he gives you a med kit for free, and lets you stay to rest. he lets you sleep cradled against his tail, and doesnt want to admit it but he enjoys it.

Not So Expendable

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Reader has had a bad run and needs to catch a break.

A/N: NERVOUS!!! 😂 I want this to be a good start to the Pressure fandom so I hope I did well! Thank you for requesting to help me get started! (And so quickly too!) I hope I’ve portrayed Sebastian well! If anyone who reads this has any positive constructive criticism feel free to share!

TW: Mention of injury, slightly graphic but nothing incredibly gory!

The familiar sound of someone pulling themselves through the vents pulled Sebastian’s attention towards it, the soft light blue glow of his three eyes settling on the rather ragged figure of the expendable making their runs for today. They breathed heavily through parted lips, a bloodied hand returning to their side to return to applying pressure to the deep red soaked material of their suit-- the right side, he noted.

“Oh my!” A baiting tone left his lips, sharp, pearly white teeth visible as he smirked down at them. “Aren’t you a sight to see?” A deep chuckle filled the air that quickly began to fill with the thick smell of iron. He’s seen wounds similar to the ones this expendable had on numerous occasions. This early in the run, they usually stem from a very specific monster here in the Hadal Blacksite. “I thought you would be smart enough to avoid such simple trickery. They’re only Good People, after all.” The emphasis on the monster’s name was spoken condescendingly, humming in amusement at his own play of words.

There was no response from the expendable. Their hand only pressed more firmly on their wound, limping towards him without so much as a glance in his direction. They only seemed focused on the items draped along the length of his tail. Sebastian frowned in slight annoyance, an emotion that showed vibrantly in his tone, “Fine, fine! Straight to business are we? And here I thought we had something special.”

That line was said tauntingly, though his frown softened. The expendable before him was definitely different from the others he has come across- special is quite the stretch, though, no? The first time you came with a group was a memory that stood out to him in that moment of reminiscence. A large and rowdy group of eight came in to purchase what they wished, with a rather infuriating kid thinking it was a good idea to use the flash beacon right there in the room with him. The sudden bright light stung his eyes harshly. He was about to lash out at the kid, a hand raised to rub the stinging sensation away. But a certain expendable’s voice beat him to it.

“Come on! Is that really necessary? You’re wasting the uses on it anyways!”

While it wasn’t necessarily a direct defense for him, there have been many other occasions where you would put your little group in line whenever you went out as a team. Likewise, you would remain courteous when interacting with him when you would make runs alone as well- no matter how much he would try to tease and annoy you.

A slight tug against his tail brought him back to reality, watching as your face went from relief as you placed a hand on the medkit settled dead center of all of the wares he had up for offer, to a heavy sense of worry as your hand moved to grab the price tag set above it. “Something not to your liking?” Though his tone still held a bit of mockery, it waned into something a little softer.

The expendable quickly shrugged off their bag, struggling for a moment to pull the zipper open with their free hand before digging through its contents frantically. Their face grew paler as an empty flashlight and old keycards toppled out the sides of the open bag. A few files were tossed onto the ground, as well as a couple of DNA samples- but they weren’t even half of what the medkit cost.

Sebastian cringed at the sight, an unpleasant feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Sympathy? His jaw locked in place at the thought. No way. Sympathy for an expendable who will only be sent back once again when they’re on the brink of death, only to be healed to be good as new for the sole purpose of doing all again until the people of UrbanShade were satisfied? Absolutely not, was what he decided. It was nothing more than a slightly sick sense of pity.

The expendable in question dropped onto the ground, seemingly too weak to keep themselves up anymore. Their chest rose and fell with each heavy and shaken breath they took, leaning against an empty spot on his tail.

God, they looked pathetic..

Sebastian scoffed irritably, that same awful feeling that started within the pit of his stomach now crawling up his spine. They looked pathetic. He ripped the medkit off of its hook, tossing it in the expendable’s direction. It clattered loudly when the plastic box made contact with the stone floors, only stopping when it had hit the expendable’s leg and bounced off of it, landing it a few inches away from them.

Tired eyes moved quickly to the box and then to him, leaving only a second to wonder before it was hastily scooped up into their hands. Their hands shook from how weak their body was, and their hands slipped from how bloodied they were- but they managed to open it with an audible pop. The gauze wrap was in their hands in mere minutes, struggling to unzip the scuba suit they wore in order to make their most life threatening wound more accessible.

It was then that Sebastian was able to get a clearer view of the wound you so desperately were trying to keep from draining the expendable completely of their energy. He’s unable to tell if the wound was as deep as it looked, or if the wound was just large, causing the blood loss to make it appear deeper than it really was. It was definitely way worse than the smaller cuts littering their arms- most of which have already healed on their own- as well as the large bruise on the left side of their jaw.

Relief caused Sebastian’s shoulders to relax momentarily, his shoulders dropping with each second he watched the expendable patch themselves up to the best of their abilities. He scoffed at himself upon realization. He shouldn’t be feeling that way towards an expendable. He shouldn’t have helped them to begin with! He keeps telling himself this. And yet, here the both of you are.

The gentle pressure against his tail pulled him from his thoughts once more. The expendable rested against his tail again, eyes fallen shut and breathing more evened out than before. They looked far more relaxed than they were mere moments ago. They appeared almost too relaxed.

“Hey, now! Who said you could get some shut eye?” He initially began to tease, moving his tail to start wrapping around the expendable’s body with the intent on lifting them up to wake them. But he stops himself. His tail is wrapped completely around them, but it hadn’t tightened enough to safely lift them up without the risk of dropping them. The relaxed state, in comparison to moments earlier, eased his nerves. Much to his own dismay. A feeling of defeat washed over him, sighing to himself in slight annoyance as he crossed two of his three arms across his chest.

“Very well..” His voice was soft as to not awaken them, watching over them carefully as the room rumbled with the passing of an Angler just outside the room.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice (1)

VA! MC x OM! Characters

TW: Eh it's more fluffy than smutty I'd say, but minors DNI. Loads of random lore for the sake of immersion. Now to brainstorm the rest of the characters.

INTRO

Tagging: @romaissa @eliciana @your-favorite-god @april-notthemonth69 @ikevampharem @k8tznd8wgz @futureittomain @m-majoko @the-auguer @yurinayumi @i-am-empress-irish @deepazur @rippedbutnotamasterpiece @pomegranateboba @ra1ns70rm @anjodedesgostoeerros @sammywo @annoyingbiscuitathleteland-blog @ourfinalisation @creativecupcake @snowthatareblack @angelofbooksworld

"After a freak accident, you and a group of 5 people get teleported into a fantastical world together. Who will you team up with to try and leave this place? Or will they convince you to stay and have a new life with them here instead? Or will you stumble across the biggest secret that this new world holds...?"

You read out the summary for them at a group dinner at Diavolo's castle. Apparently, it was to celebrate your debut as a VA. They all clapped and bombarded you with questions. You tried to answer as many as you could without any spoilers.

They were supposed to have already started playing the game but the game servers got a little overwhelmed and had to go under maintenance with so many people downloading and making accounts at the same time. So Diavolo hosted this party instead.

"So how many endings can you get with a single character?" Simeon inquired.

"Well on an average there's around 12 endings per character, but there's a varying number of endings depending on the character you choose. I'm not sure I remember for all of them-"

"We just want to know yours." Belphie smirked.

"Oi come on, it makes it sound like you're all just going to play my character, don't do that! The other characters are also incredibly well written!"

The sheepish grins and side glances told you that they were clearly going ignore your last advice.

"Honestly you guys, one of the characters here has a teleportation ability, one can read minds, and another one has insane fighting skills - the only thing you know about my character is that I don't have a name!"

"Omg this means they are definitely building you upto to have the most OP ability of them all!" Levi exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh yes that's usually how it goes in these tropes. The most unassuming character ends up giving you the secret ending." Solomon nodded in agreement.

"Both of you, shush! Just play the game normally okay?! You will get to interact with all the characters anyway until the second phase." You reprimanded, sighing, knowing no one would listen anyway.

Lucifer - Saved by the Belle

"Before Tyla takes us home tomorrow, would you like to spend your last day here with me, Lucifer?"

Lucifer and you worked with loyalty and rigor under Tyla, an old world Sorceror. It was because of you two specifically that Tyla's magic was powerful enough to create a portal back home. Your character was so much like you - it felt like he completed this whole journey of freedom with you, and not just an image on screen.

> "Of course, MC. In fact...I would like to spend the night with you too."

MC blushed on screen, looking away and nodding. "Oh? Well then... I'll look forward to it."

He enjoys this way more than he thought he would. He visits for the last time, all the places you both had been together. The first tavern, the first forest path, the first temporary abode - the HumbleBee Inn.

> "It's late. Should we go back here again, for old times sake?"

"Why not? Maybe they'll accidentally put us in the same room again and get overbooked so we have no other choice. Maybe this time it'll be a bit more...eventful." You said with a sly and knowing smile as you skipped ahead.

Lucifer's knee jerked upwards, hitting the table. Just what kind of lines are these? And what are those expressions? Who else was in there listening to you when you recorded this? The way your voice sounded, Lucifer was convinced you were thinking about someone special. If only you saw the effect you were having on him.

> "I've been holding back all day. Forgive me if I'm too rough."

Lucifer pushes you against the wall, caging your body. You blush in the dark, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. It was driving him insane. He could feel his pants getting tighter at the crotch.

Last time he endured the sexual tension of sharing the bed with you, constantly trying avoid your body even though he was desperate to feel it's warmth. This time there wasn't any reason to deprive himself.

"It's okay...I can take it. Please don't hold back..."

Oh hell, you were about to be the death of him. These...are these really the sounds you'd make in bed? Godamnit you are ruining his mind. He can't relax until he's jerked off now. And it's all your fault.

The next couple days, you notice Lucifer hesitates to keep eye contact with you. In fact, he has a rather visceral reaction every time you simply call his name, standing at his door. Only he knows how badly he wants to pull you into his bed to ravage you - practice your lines with him, why don't you?

Mammon - Stranded Together

"Guess they didn't want either of us huh, Mammon?"

Nah Mammon was mad at this ending. He gets why the group left him behind - he made too many questionable choices like stealing the last reserves of food or money (so you never went hungry), running away from the monsters instead of staying and fighting with the group(with you ofc so you wouldn't be in any danger), finding new shelter and not telling anyone (except you).

> "I'm so sorry...it's because of me that they left you too. You did nothing wrong yet...no this will not stand! I'll go threaten them into taking you too!"

"Mammon wait- no don't! Alright fine I was lying! They didn't leave me...I chose not to go!"

Mammon was stunned. He stared at your character blushing and looking elsewhere while holding onto his arm. His heart beat just a little bit faster.

> "Wait...what? But you wanted to...don't you want to go back and keep looking for your family?!"

"Who knows if the family I was looking for even exists?! But you...you are real. And you are so kind to me, and so great. So..."

Your character moved in closer and closer to him. Mammon leaned back too far from the screen, falling backwards on the floor. He was not ready for what was about to come.

"If I really want a family that bad...I can just make one here...with you. But only if you wanted that too ..."

> "I do! Of course I do! We can both find work and home in the kingdom now that big monsters are all dead! I'll be yours and you'll be mine!"

Mammon pressed it on instinct, not knowing his character was gonna grab yours and pin them to the ground. His face burnt up in excitement seeing you all cornered like this. You blushed and whispered as you leaned in to kiss him.

"Hehe...Mammon...I'm all yours already. But there's others ways you can claim me if you like..."

Your sleeves fell loose, and off your shoulders and his hands began to wander. Mammon almost screamed the house down, grabbing at his sheets, humping his pillows, struggling to look away from the screen. But he couldn't stop.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you tomorrow at the breakfast table?! Yet, Mammon re-played that part at least 30 times. And now every time you whispered to him in class, Mammon had to grip his knees and stop himself from imagining the unholiest things.

Leviathan - Power of Friend-ship??

"We did it! We actually did it, Levi! Can you believe it?! Look even the people are cheering for us!"

Levi punched the air in glee, he definitely must have gotten the best ending right?! That was such an intense combat scene - he almost cried when he thought you got swallowed by the Giant of The Depths, then he watched you burst out of its stomach with all the other victims while he slashed through its neck. You and him - the two underdogs dealt the final blow. At this point, every other character was shipping you two together.

> "Let's go Army of the Third Lord!"

MC cheered and high fived him from the screen, while the rest of the group danced in celebration! Ah MC had already become one of his favourite characters of all time. He had already preordered the action figures, posters and a body pillow (yes the ecchi one).

"Come on Levi, won't you join the celebration feast!? Everyone is calling for you!"

Oh no this was Levi's nightmare. Loud and crowded parties - but it was you asking him to go, what if he missed out on an important secret ending. Just to be safe he chose a neutral option to see what you would prefer.

> ... I'm not too sure.

"Then...would you like to celebrate in private with me? I know a quiet place with a good view."

Levi almost fell out of his seat. It's happening. This is where he unlocks the hidden erotic ending. The blush on your face, the way you held out your hand for him to take - biting down on his knuckles in excitement.

> I'd really prefer that! Thank you!

You smile and nod, leading him by the hand to a nearby pond. The moonlight shimmered on the water, the reflections dancing on your skin as you both lay down next to each other. Levi could feel himself falling for you all over again.

"Look Levi, in the pond! The Gloriees are back! Aren't they beautiful?"

Levi looked at the pond in awe, glowing orange fishes swam around in the waters, jumping in and out. He watched the fishes swim around the hand you put in the water. It was like you and hundred Henries in the water.

> "So beautiful..."

"They are my absolute favorite....they have the same color as your eyes..."

Your hands reach up to touch his face, pulling him closer and Levi feels all his self restraint jump out the window. He tried to grab and kiss you but ended falling in the water with you instead.

"Oh? I didn't know I excite you so much... don't worry, it makes me really happy..."

You rose from the water, laughing and coughing slightly, your entire body now laid bare through the transparent white cloth. And if that wasn't already bad enough, he heard your moans as his character started going at it with you in the lake. You were so professional, so skilled at it...he thought he was prepared for it but he clearly wasn't.

Levi couldn't resist jerking himself off there and then, soiling his computer screen with light ropes of his cum. Now every time you announced you were going to shower, this image just popped into his mind, giving him instant boners at the most unfortunate times. And god forbid he sees you walk out of the shower with your hair wet - he'll have to rush to his room to hide that he's creamed his pants.

Satan - Bridge to Televithyia

"Satan, I will be waiting for you always. I know if fate wills it, I'll definitely get to see you again."

Satan cursed himself for this ending, almost chucking his phone at the wall. His magical powers no longer worked since the portal now connected him to his own world. And while you could use all your magic here, it would lose all power in his world. With both worlds needing help after a long and destructive battle, you both knew it was selfish to abandon your either of them - especially since you two were the only Great Guardians left.

> "I will find a permanent path between our worlds. I swear upon my life, MC."

Damnit this game had better not cut his story short. He was willing to keep going, trying to fix the playthrough so he could make a good ending out of this. Just you wait MC, he's not letting you go. A part of him wanted to go into your room and hug you, just to make sure you're there atleast in real life.

Satan rubbed furiously at his eyes as you waved him goodbye. His total playtime could rival Levi's. After gathering enough resources and magical knowledge - he could finally get started on creating the bridge. But to his pleasant surprise, he only needed to build half of the bridge, because there you were standing on the other - building your own path towards him too.

"Satan...is this a dream? Are you really back? Or is this another magical illusion again...?"

Satan blushed as you rushed to hug him peppering kisses all over his face. He had to physically get away from the game, walk around, and silently scream into his hands before he could calm himself down. Because he knew even better things were yet to come.

> "It's really me, MC. I'm sorry did I make you wait too long? I missed you so terribly...I have so many things to tell you about..."

"Come with me, we've been rebuilding our town. I know a place we can catch up...it's a special place I helped build with you in mind."

Satan follows you, your arms intertwined. You point out places to him - old renovations and newer projects. You tell him about everything that's been happening since he left.

How some endangered species came back to life, how the remaining smaller beasts were tamed and how the cursed were given peace. You stopped suddenly in front of a quaint little cottage.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I'm sorry I didn't prepare a separate room for you...because I thought you wouldn't mind sharing a bed with me..."

He blushes and grips your hand as you open the door to your room. He sees pictures of both of you on the wall and next to the bed.

> "You already built a home...with me in mind. *Smiles* Yet...the bed looks in it hasn't been slept in for a while? Did you get no sleep for the past few days?"

"Actually I haven't slept in the bed yet. I sleep on the sofa - I know it's silly but I really don't like sleeping alone in a place of two..."

Satan grips the phone tighter, as he makes his character push you on the bed. How sweet - you both get to enjoy it together for the first time. He climbs after you, trapping you underneath him.

> "Good thing I'm here now, MC."

He cups your face and trails his hands downwards, undoing some buttons on your clothes. You kiss his palms and tug down his collar.

"It's a pity though...I don't think we'll be using the bed for sleeping tonight afterall..."

He watched the screen, slack-jawed as I heard your sultry voice echoing through his room. He fell back on his pillow, hurriedly attaching his earphones. It proved to be more lethal. He could almost imagine you in his bed right now, kissing your way down his chest, while he fondles your bottom.

When you approached him later asking if he liked your work in the game, he had to cover half his face to hide the redness. He couldn't possibly tell you that he had downloaded snippets of all your moans and saved them to a secret folder. Or that he listened to them quite frequently.

[caitlinsclark]

GOOD LUCK BABE! caitlin clark PART II. YOU CAN SAY THAT WE'RE NOTHING caitlin clark x reader ✰ bree's notes: tw: A MAN A MAN A MAN A MAN A MAN (sorry just had to add that) enjoy my loves!! I've missed writing for you fr <3 word count: 4.7k series masterlist masterlist and tag list

The sound of things in your bag clunking together echoed throughout the hallway as you ruffled through them, a breathless groan that reiterated all the building frustration from your day prior. In the haste of escaping the stressful situation, you'd forgotten your sneakers. 

You could play barefoot right? It wasn’t technically an advantage, you tried to reason with yourself internally to not have to enter the apartment again. 

What a joke, you scoffed as you rubbed your forehead, feeling like an intruder in your own home. With one hand on the door knob, you sighed and pushed it open quickly, believing that the quicker you did it the quicker it would be over.

Luke called your name when you passed by him sitting in the living room, his stupid bouquet of flowers clutched dramatically to his chest where his heart was rumored to be.

Of course, they were still in perfect condition too. You bitterly mumbled under your breath as you went right into the bedroom, ignoring his half assed attempts at reconciliation. 

“If those flowers even get near you,” You gently pet the cat lying on your bed as you whispered, “I’m blending them into a smoothie and he’s gonna drink it.” Your voice heightened in pitch toward the end, an affectionate boop on the nose to the furry animal before you went into the closet to retrieve your shoes. 

You were rustling around when something dropped, an echo of a hollow box hitting the ground grabbing your attention. It was a small felt box, something that didn’t belong among the shoes in the closet and definitely not something of yours. 

When you bent down to open it, you found yourself wishing you had gone with the decision to play barefoot. The intimidating glimmer of the diamond ring sucking all the light from your body, completely opposing how reflective it was.

Basketball clearly hadn’t taught you enough defense, leaving you startled when Luke had entered the room. The sudden imposing figure in your line of vision had you gasping, quick reflexes kicking in and throwing the ring into your bag to hide it. Your foot kicked the empty jewelry box underneath the dresser just in time for him to turn the corner.

Luke stared hard at your agitated figure, suspicion lacing the words he spoke, “You’re back. Let’s talk.”  He turned around without another word, assuming you were going to follow.

It didn’t seem to be a question, and you weren’t going to let it be. Especially with the frazzled buzzing of your head that had skyrocketed to a pulsating sensation.

“Nope, I can’t do this now.” The ring felt heavy in your bag, an unpleasant and scarily unwelcome milestone that prompted your blood running cold. Your sensible mind told you that it was your shoes adding that weight, but your mind didn’t let up.

Your feet carried you hurriedly out of the door again, not even taking a second to pett the whining cat near the door on the way out. That’s how you knew you were absolutely fucked.

The pounding in your head may have been attributed to the upcoming stakes of the game, but you feared it had more to do with the metaphorical weight making it difficult to get a full breath in. The pressure that lingered as a reminder of the man living in your apartment, if the 5 missed calls lighting up your phone and the ring stowed away in your bag weren’t enough.

You tried to sit in your car for more time than you wanted to admit, an attempt at collecting yourself before facing any of the cameras. Flashes that would probably read directly into your soul, prompting narratives that might not only be speculation and hearsay.

The physically sickening feeling was almost a happy distraction from the grief your mind had been relentlessly succumbed to since the phone call with your mother.

You couldn’t quite place what changed when you entered the building, what had your buzzing senses slowing to a steady and comforting pace but it surely couldn’t have been the entrance of your best friend to your left.

You gasped at the smug smirk on Caitlin’s face as you took in your correlating outfits, not torn away from her despite the flashing cameras. It made sense why she’d asked earlier if you had tan heels as you took in her tan pantsuit.

“You look amazing,” She hummed, grabbing both your hands and spinning you wistfully toward the press. She left you laughing and holding onto her arms for stabilization as you slowed to a stop.

Caitlin gladly indulged in your hands on her biceps, leaving a lingering warmth even after they slid down to her elbows. 

You wiped your forehead dramatically, letting out a puff of air at the show you two had just put on for the cameras, “I wonder where I got the recommendation from.” With an inability to take a compliment, you hid your warming face from her despite the smirk she held, signaling she’d already caught you.

One of your arms nudged her own wordlessly and she childishly did it back to you. You stumbled in your tall heels, saved  like clockwork when she pulled you against her before you could fall the other way, quick and effortless like the action took no thought.

You continued side by side walking down the hallway when Caitlin carefully linked your arms together. You turned your head at the contact and gave her a small adoring smile, one that had her turning to direct her grin at the ground so you wouldn’t see her red cheeks behind her hair.

The harmonious glimmer in the air was something you only felt in Caitlin’s presence, a bond that went unsaid as you both had learned each other too well. A blissful comfort your mind and body welcomed after the anxiety your prior day.

Warm ups came and went, a fleeting comfortability of distraction that went all too fast. As you walked off the court, the prominent cameras and microphones flocked to you as if they were seagulls fighting over a scrap of food. 

Your head hadn’t cleared since the discovery you made in the closet earlier, added with the pressure of their cameras pushing into your face. You tried to find something to train your eyes on, something to focus on and keep your nerves down.

You realized how bad of an idea that was when your other option was Caitlin as she waited, with her unwavering and intimidating attention focused on you. Her stature exuded confidence, legs spread as if she owned the space, her arm laid on the back of the chair beside her with a powerful grip on the metal that had the veins in her arm showing.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You slowly blinked at the reporter, licking your lips to get rid of the dry feeling in your mouth. The brunette watched you shuffle on your feet, a nervous tell.

A gasp left your lips when a water bottle entered your side view, too focused on avoiding Caitlin’s distracting gaze to notice that she’d waltzed up with her water bottle for you. Her eyebrows were raised in an expectant manner when you took more than a second to grab it, simply knowing you all too well. 

You laughed and took it from her with a gentle ‘thank you’, ignoring the rush of giddiness when she decided to stay against your side as you took a small but much needed sip. 

The reporter repeated his question and put the mic toward your own mouth once he finished, though you deflated at the clearly narrative driven journalism that he showed.

“Do you think Liberty is coming into the match today looking down on your team for the previous three losses?” 

You resisted the urge to side eye the brunette to your left, who you felt gently squeeze the arm behind your back in a silent acknowledgement hidden from the cameras.

“I don’t think they can look down at us, most of us are pretty tall,” You shrugged off the question, sharing a mutually playful and amused look with Caitlin beside you. Her hand moved to rest on your back in encouragement, another small squeeze that was hidden from the reporters, meant for only the two of you.

The man looked down, an attempt at hiding from the antagonizing laughs that the rest of the journalists let out. Your head turned, your temple resting on Caitlin’s shoulder as you tried to hide the unprofessional giggles you were sharing with your teammate.

Your laughter died down slowly when Caitlin lifted her phone up to her mouth like a microphone, mocking the media right in front of their faces, “Pressing question, what is your favorite movie of all time?”

You leaned into the device, now putting your hand on her shoulder to get closer to the microphone, “My favorite movie of all time is Spider-Man.” Caitlin nodded as you spoke, eyes trained on you with an intent expression at your answer.

“That upside down kiss scene changed my brain chemistry, how do you even realistically do that?” You added absentmindedly with a laugh, noticing immediately how the athlete beside you perked up like a dog who’d heard a box of treats shaking.

“I think I can hang upside down from the hoop, if you wanna try?” Caitlin smirked at you, a cockiness tainting her words that had you wanting to melt into the floor.

Her brown eyes basked in the shy tilt of your head away from her as your cheeks warmed at the words. You stumbled for some kind of response and could only settle for a dismissive laugh despite a few seconds of troubleshooting.

“Stop,” Your words were cushioned with a laugh, hands gently pushing her stomach to get some distance, ignoring how much muscle you felt in such a small interaction. 

You fumbled with your hair, suddenly feeling hot and ] went back to looking at the camera to calm the increasing and intimidating beat of your heart. With a small sigh, you tried to move past the light-hearted teasing she always hit you with, but her comforting warmth against your side sucked you further in. 

It was in her nature to be an instigator anyway, you tried to tell yourself as you gave your full attention to the journalist.

If only you knew that everything she’d said to you in the last three years had been anything but light-hearted. The line of Caitlin’s teasing had been long forgotten in her mind when her words had simply become scattered truths disguised with a playful attitude.

She rocked back and forth on her heels silently and tried not to pettily pull away from your alluring presence, feeling rejected yet accepted at the same time. She couldn’t find it in herself to tear apart from you, too comfortable in the warmth of your touch. Perhaps she had earned a sadist title as she let herself fall into you once again, knowing damn well you weren’t hers. 

And it was a brutal reminder as you swallowed nervously and made the decision put some separation between your bodies.

The nerves began to set in as you sat in the locker room, messing with your hair as you tried to mentally prepare. Caitlin watched you from her corner, ignoring the way her teammates giggled at her repetitive glances in your direction.

Erica leaned over to whisper to Aliyah as Caitlin finally stood up and trailed across the room to sit next to you, the two giggling like school girls over gossip. The glare that the point guard sent them only made them laugh more, hiding behind their hands to communicate. The brunette’s scrunched up face was a dead giveaway to her worry for you, only hearing bits and pieces of your conversation on the phone.

“They were brand new flowers, Luke,” You insisted quietly, set on not allowing him to make you feel bad. This piqued Caitlin’s interest further when she realized what you were talking about, trying to tie her sneakers silently. She couldn’t help the way her eyes still flew to you.

“I can get you new flowers, I don’t know how to fix this,” He sounded anxious and it made your guilt spike up. You tried to ground your spinning head and give yourself a subtle reminder that this was a matter of ignorance, not incompetence. 

The confusion in his voice seemed genuine, as if he was searching for a way to read your mind. Maybe you hadn’t been clear enough?

You rubbed your forehead, your closed eyes being hidden from the light not doing much to ease the headache forming, “It’s like if I threw away a Play Station gift card you hadn’t used yet because I assumed it was expired.” 

The immediate ‘oh’ that left his lips in understanding was bitter sweet, an exhausting cycle of having to dumb things down as if you were babysitting a child and having to teach them respect and consequences.

“I’m sorry I made you upset,” He followed up and you felt like all the explaining you had just done had tumbled down upon analyzing his wording, “You know I’ve just missed you so much since you went pro, I don’t wanna fight when we barely talk as it is.”

The physical therapist would have yelled at you with the way your head fell aggressively back against the lockers, posture slumped and eyes still shut to shield yourself from reality. Defeat consumed you, the circles your mind had been running in paling in comparison to the circles you’d been talking in with Luke.

The hand holding your phone tiredly fell down to rest on the bench despite Luke’s voice still sounding from it quietly. There was no flinch when the device was taken from your hand, a familiar soft grasp settling on your wrist that assured you who it was. You assumed she had hung up for you when his voice was cut off abruptly.

“You’re gonna do great,” Caitlin’s voice was still easily recognizable behind your closed eyes, like a song you knew from the first beat. She didn’t miss how your lips quirked up.

“And whatever, or whoever,” the words were absolutely bitter to Caitlin’s own ears, “is upsetting you isn’t important right now.”

You peaked one eye open to glance sideways at her, “Sounds like the easy and confident words of a record breaking rookie expecting a triple double tonight.” 

“It’s whatever,” she brushed off what you said, more focused on your nerves than her accomplishments. It left you baffled, shoving her shoulder to which she grasped your hand to defend another attack. 

You still scoffed, giving her an incredulous look as if she’d just offended your first born, “That’s ridiculous, be proud of yourself for five seconds please.”

She silently counted five seconds in her head and you squinted at her unimpressed as you realized what she was doing. When the five seconds was up, you couldn’t help but share a laugh at her persistent sarcastic nature with a slight shove to her shoulder.

“You deserve more than five seconds, Cait,” You scolded, but laughed with her regardless.

“You should trust me, we’ve got this,” She barely acknowledged the praise and put her hand on your knee, you didn’t have to look away as you laid yours on top, “Ready?” 

The nerves regarding the game seemed to dissipate, insignificant when she held out her hands and pulled you up from the bench to chest bump quickly. You landed on the ground with a breathless chuckle, turning your attention to Coach as you prepared to go out onto the court.

The game started off with a buzzing crowd and ethereal energy that didn’t seem quite real. Fans were donned in an overwhelming amount of red, eager bodies jumping at the sight of the team exiting the tunnel.

You and Caitlin had been bouncing off each other since the first whistle blew, handing the ball off to her and watching as she drained her first 3 pointer only 30 seconds into the game. 

Only 5 minutes in and you couldn’t help but nudge Caitlin’s side with a glimmering smile as you passed her on the court, finding it impossible not to soak in the glory of a great lead and defense so far. 

The scoreboard still lead in Fever’s favor, reading out a cheerful sight of 15-6. The straight set look on her features broke when she looked at you, sharing the moment of excitement bashfully with no extra convincing, just the influence of your smile.

By the end of the first quarter, Fever was still off to an 8 point lead. This had you and Caitlin conjoining hands excitedly when the buzzer sounded, a quick celebration amidst the chaos of the crowd and game.

The second quarter was a give and take, feeling like every shot you made, Liberty would quickly answer back with. It’d grew to a score of 33-32, Fever being only one point ahead. That was until Sabrina stepped back to drain another three, putting Liberty in the lead and lighting another fire within the players on the court.

Your eyes subconsciously flittered around until they landed on the number 22 jersey you always looked for. Finding her gaze already on yours was comforting, like she knew you needed that subtle pick me up.

3 minutes into the last quarter and you could tell that your team was giving its all. With a close score in Liberty’s favor of 66-57, it was safe to say that the final 7 minutes were crucial.

You were already on the move to the opposite end of the court when a missed shot by Thornton bounced off the rim and fell into Caitlin’s possession, marking the triple double she had been working towards.

The crowd’s screams bounced off the walls, echoing and hurting your ears in a way that you welcomed gleefully as you cheered along.

Even though you were still running toward your own basket, Caitlin caught the moment as you turned your head back in her direction with a proud glimmer shining in your eyes, a look only reserved for her. The point guard was thankful for the fact that you’d needed to turn away so she could focus back on the game. And not on the way that a new fire had ignited within her just from your wordless praise.

The ball in her hands passed to yours flawlessly, charging up to the basket as the cheers from the fans watching continued relentlessly. The whistle blew as you attempted your layup, a foul called on Thornton in your favor with the referee granting two free throws.

The roars of the crowd couldn’t stop Caitlin from taking advantage of the whistle to jog over to you, being the first to check on you despite being the furthest away. She knew what she had just accomplished, but the way you were holding your arm with a slight grimace was more of a priority.

Caitlin thought of the cameras picking up on the hand that she kept on the arch of your back all the way to the free throw line, but she truly couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“You okay?” She spoke lowly, eyebrows furred in concern as her eyes flickered over your face, lingering on the taunting view of your lips, so close yet so far.

You weren’t focused enough to notice as your hand squeezed her arm, the excitement of her triple double ranking far higher than preparing for the shots. 

She set her hands on her hips and stepped back to watch you closely, less fueled by the score and more by the fact that you were the one shooting. The brunette put her arms out when the crowd continued to go wild, a clear gesture to silent the cheers and they somehow listened. Peering eyes watching her but she only focused on giving you a small nod of encouragement, now ready to take your shots and thankful for her dissipating the distracting screams. 

The crowd’s energy roared again when you’d drained both shots, another push toward closing the gap in score during the intense back and forth. With only nine seconds left and a 5 point advantage, Fever was running like a cohesive machine. The crowd began cheering when Liberty’s shot bounced off the backboard and Caitlin grabbed the rebound eagerly, only dropping it when the final buzzer sounded, marking the official victory for your team.

You hopped into her open and awaiting arms the second she’d dropped the ball, a bundle of force that she welcomed and expected. Her arms came to wrap around your thighs, lifting you so high up in the air that you had to squeal and hold onto her shoulders. 

Your forehead leaned to rest on the top of her head, “You are unreal.” Your voice amounted to less than a whisper, encompassing how proud of her you were. 

It was terrifying how simple it was to tune out the booming volume of the crowd for Caitlin when you spoke to her in that reserved, soft voice. The brunette didn’t answer verbally, setting you on the ground gently and burying her face in your chest. Her arms slid up to your waist and you loosely wrapped yours around her upper body, cradling her head against you as you swayed back and forth.

She let herself be consumed you for just a moment, a moment where Luke didn’t exist and you were celebrating as her girlfriend. The familiarity of her body against yours could’ve had her fooled, an unsaid and unaddressed intimacy you’d both been lacking with others. 

But for that split second, it went beyond words, a conscious choice to bask in the victory with only one another. Caitlin couldn’t keep the grin off her face and neither could you. Her touch only heightened the bliss you were working off of as the team retreated back to the locker room.

Caitlin was busy looking at the reporters in front of her and you took the chance to fondly flutter your eyes over her features, an enamoring glow radiating through her smile that only a win could provoke.

Her arm hung around your neck and yours around her waist, footsteps in a slow synchronization as you took your time walking down the hallway.

“I can’t believe we did that,” She breathed out, using her arm to pull your face just a little too close to hers in a fleeting moment of pure adrenaline.

You couldn’t help but admire how humble the girl in front of you had grown to be, a remarkable sense of team in a game that some played selfishly.

“Yeah,” You pretended to think and savored her gaze concentrated on your expression, “I guess you did enough to make it a ‘we’ situation.” One of your free fingers poked her stomach, indulging when she sunk right back into your side after shying away.

“Triple double, how does it feel?” A reporter cut in, walking backwards to match the pace of you and Caitlin. You cheered, your hands circling your mouth to echo the sound even louder as Caitlin laughed.

“Like another one of these,” She tugged you closer underneath her arm to make a ‘W’ with her hands, covering your overly cheesy grin from the camera, “Shoutout to the fans though, they kept us going in that second half.” The brunette couldn’t help but add humbly.

Entering the locker room felt like an orchestrated sneak attack, Caitlin thought as you lead her into the abnormally quiet area. Her teammates sat with incriminating grins, Coach standing at the front of the room with two empty spots directly beside her.

Like clockwork, the pair of you sat beside one another, a bashful grin appearing on Caitlin’s face at the building anticipation. You couldn’t help but join in on the giddiness, tinting her cheeks red when you gave her a teasing nudge.

The entire room was watching the two of you silently, fondly eyeing one another.

“First time for a rookie to get a triple double in franchise history!”

Screams erupted before Coach Sides could finish her sentence. The two of you being bombarded by a flood of cold water, courtesy of the bottles held by your teammates who ran around like sugar crazed children in the name of Caitlin’s accomplishment.

She leaned back against you fully, letting the water rain down on both of your bodies. Though the liquid was freezing enough to leave you shivering as it dripped down your jersey, you only focused on the warmth of Caitlin’s back against you and her radiant smile as the team cheered her on. 

Your loud and proud hollers were her favorite. Your voice standing out to her more than the rest of the room, prompting the bashful grin and light flush of her cheeks as she rested her head back against your shoulder.

The towel you wrapped gently around her shoulders was a weak comparison to the way you’d been wrapped around her. She tried to imagine the feeling again, the ghost of your touch haunting her the second it strayed away.

She got pulled around the room by the rest of the team, but her eyes refused to stray from you every few seconds. There had only been one person she wanted to celebrate with and she was currently packing her back in the other corner. “Good job everybody,” Caitlin called out, holding up the basketball in her hands toward the rest of her team with her radiant smile on full display. 

“Did you wanna do something after we get done with press?” She passed the ball back and forth between her hands, her nervousness making her movements rapid and causing her to stumble slightly.

“The franchise record breaker doesn’t have a hot date to tend to tonight?” You squinted, fumbling around with items in your bag, oblivious to the exasperation coating Caitlin’s features.

She had one particular in mind, she just wasn’t sure if the other party would consider it a date. Her hands clutched the towel on her shoulders to gain some self control back.

She’d went to open her mouth to reply, aiming to not sound overly desperate. The idea of desperation flew out the window when a tiny clink traveled into her ears courtesy of the small object that slipped out from your bag. 

You had no idea, rambling on about how proud you were, something about taking time to appreciate herself. But nothing could be heard over the deafening ringing intruding on Caitlin’s senses, eyes zoned in on the diamond ring staring tauntingly back at her. A nod to a milestone that she would never reach with you.

Caitlin stayed painfully still, not even allowing her eyes to stray from the sight, scared that moving would make this moment set in reality. You were a blissful level of unaware of the war going on in her head, while the sides of morally right and corruptively gray teetered back and forth.

“Alright,” You breathed out as you hiked your bag up on your shoulder, ignorant to the glittering ring just centimeters from your foot, “I could use a drink.”

With an expert like timing, the girl waited for you to head toward the door, back facing her for just enough time to allow her to scoop up the ring in her grasp. She squeezed her eyes shut as she rose to her full height again, a silent prayer for a good segway into playing this off.

“You coming?” You turned around to ask, facing Caitlin just in time to see her standing up in a rushed movement. One hand fiddled with her hair while the other was gripped in a fist, clasping tight to hold in all the secrets that threatened to break loose.

“Coming.” Her legs carried her to you with no further hesitance, a pit of dread slipping into her stomach, in unison with the harrowing ring sliding achingly into her jacket pocket.

taglist: @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy @into-f0lkl0re @mysticchildsuit @sapphicmermaid @ureleesian @stydiaownsmyheart

series taglist: @wnbaforthewin @stefanshope @sewiouslyz @kaelaheartsyou @caitlin-clark-obsessed @trinscam @julienbakerloverr @muhlsfilm @paigebueckresfan8282 @sadie-bug7 @madismadmad @dinosaurstrandedonnublarisland @kenzlovesyou @zolofts @gaydonutdino @jujubuckets @elliewilliamsthang @princes21w @bookendsandbrokenhearts @mayghosts @isntthatsweetiguessso @cookiecrunchyum @hellokitty-6996 @slutforpaige @the-other-half @simp4panos @charlottehughess

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[buddierecs]

eddie diaz's moustache buddie fics

i am a secret lover of eddie's mustache so of course i am doing this :) this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

world war e(ddie's moustache) by: songbvrd "eddie is a little unhinged since christopher left. when buck gets yelled at for having facial hair, eddie makes a spectacle out of his own." word count: 19k rating: mature important tags: emotional infidelity, tommy kinard bashing, unhinged!eddie diaz, pre-relationship, mutual pining all my little words by: youbetsya "eddie: did you just send me an email?? buck: yeah lol eddie: why… I dont think you’ve ever emailed me actual words before. just stuff to print when your printer is broken buck: did you read it? eddie: not yet too busy trying to figure out why the fuck you’re emailing me buck: just read it dude 🙄" word count: 11k rating: teen and up important tags: texting, idiots in love, getting together, TW: suicidal thoughts to hurt, to heal, to hope by: brewrosemilk "...eddie, you think I'm going anywhere, you're fucking crazy." word count: 2.1k rating: teen and up important tags: getting together, first kiss just you know you'll taste me too by: teenytinytomlinson "eddie has a mustache, a cat, and a night out. buck gets a phone call, a near heart attack, and a whole new perspective." word count: 12k rating: explicit important tags: infidelity, getting together, gay!eddie diaz, jealous!evan buckley, anal sex, blow jobs, power bottom!eddie diaz one bright morning changes all things by: hispolestar "it's halloween, chris is heading back to texas for a few days and frank gives eddie therapy homework to do something for himself, to let himself want things. eddie enlists buck's help and something shifts between them in the following week." word count: 50k rating: explicit important tags: friends to lovers, infidelity, angst, tommy kinard bashing, therapy, panic attacks, demisexual!eddie diaz, anal sex, blow jobs, mirror sex, praise kink save a horse, ride a mustache by: bisexualbuckley "eddie gets a mustache. buck goes insane. there's some miscommunication. mustache smut ensues." word count: 7.1k rating: explicit important tags: miscommunication, established relationship, rimming, face-sitting, anal sex, riding, praise kink, come eating i'm in your grip by: thatbuddie "the one where eddie’s mustache makes buck lose his mind and get nipple piercings. and then eddie loses his mind about buck's nipple piercings. And then they lose their minds together." word count: 5.9k rating: explicit important tags: piercing, porn without plot, blow jobs, nipple play, come marking i can fix that by: 42hrb “what - what is that?” “what’s what?” eddie asked, but the smile tugging at his mouth, the smile that was just slightly obscured by the hottest mustache buck had ever fucking seen, told buck eddie knew exactly what he was talking about...." word count: 4.2k rating: mature important tags: handyman!eddie diaz, flirting, mutual pining, getting together, non-explicit sex one more can't hurt, right? by: eightpackdiaz "chris goes to texas for the summer. eddie adopts a bunch of cats about it." word count: 8.7k rating: teen and up important tags: cats, gay!eddie diaz, jealous!eddie diaz, tommy kinard bashing, boys in love, first kiss baby, i'm all outta words by: well-sussed "eddie works on feeling his feelings, frank has the patience of a saint, and the moustache is *seriously* doing it for buck." word count: 13k rating: teen and up important tags: gay priest, sexuality crisis, catholic guilt, idiots in love, mutual pining, soft!eddie diaz the mustache intervention by: xylodemon "so… what?" eddie asks. "this is some kind of intervention?" hen says, "yes, definitely." word count: 1.4k rating: not rated important tags: getting together, humour, crack it's not right (but it's okay) by: weewooforever "buck and eddie fuck nasty after tommy disappoints buck again." word count: 8.9k rating: explicit important tags: infidelity, idiots in love, getting together, possessive&bossy!eddie diaz anal sex, blow jobs, handjobs, praise kink

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 

But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 

— And she wasn’t? 

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 

— No. 

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 

The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay? 

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 

— No. Just coffee. 

— Sugar? 

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 

— Ja. Thank you. 

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 

— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 

You still want to ruffle his hair. 

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 

— Nein, thank you. 

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it. 

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 

— Don’t wander at night again. 

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 

— I won’t. Promise. 

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

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[vaaaaaiolet]

It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you. 

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple. 

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm. 

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?” 

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid. 

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift. 

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six? 

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman. 

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms. 

“Hold it plea- Leon!”  

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut. 

“Thanks,” you gasp. 

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t. 

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!” 

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t. 

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds. 

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds. 

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity. 

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now. 

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside. 

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head. 

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting. 

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests. 

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.” 

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.” 

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe. 

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body. 

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.  

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears. 

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder. 

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything? 

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[dollgxtz]

heyyy, i just read your fics and wanted to tell you that I LOVE how you write! Im excited for future works and definitely will check on your blog more often now. I also saw that you are willing to write things such as ddlg and stuff, and I wanted to request it with Sylus.🖤

The Best Cure

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: daddy!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, daddy kink, ddlg, pet names like kitten, sweetie, little one, little girl, daddy, fingering, teasing, some slight punishment, overstim if you squint, lots of fluff near the end, tw for mentions of vomit

AN: I was trying so hard to get this done in the midst of everything else going on in my life but I had it 80 percent done so I figured I might as well finish and publish it tonight LOL. Ty for requesting anon <3

It was hot. Way too hot. Sweat beads form on your brow and your insides churn with nausea. You shift in bed a bit, bedsheets clinging to your clammy skin as you do so. A large bowl sits on the bedside table, ready for any vomit that threatens to come up your throat. You hadn’t thrown up at all today, but you still wanted to be prepared for the possibility. Each passing moment and stomach churn made that fear become more and more like it was going to be reality.

The black and heavy wooden door to the room suddenly opens, light pouring in to the very dark room. Sylus peers in, eyeing your disheveled figure.

“You should’ve had Luke and Kieran turn the ac down while I was gone. Poor thing”. He walks in, completely closing the door behind him.

A pair of delicate hands gently lifts your torso, propping you up with a mountain of pillows and plushies piled against the headboard. Sylus sits on the bed beside you, his worry carving a deep divot between his brows. He reaches out to test your temperature with the back of his hand, the other placing a thermometer under your tongue for good measure. You grimace and whine when he moves his hand away, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t look at me like that, kitten” he chuckles, moving his hand back to caress your cheek with his thumb. His brows tilt in concern before giving you a soft smile. “Daddy will take care of you”

You feel your cheeks heat up with the sound of that nickname. It wasn’t the first time he had addressed himself as such, and yet it never seemed to make you any less flustered. You had called him that by complete accident one night while half asleep, and while he had been taken aback a bit, he leaned into it completely after some light teasing (of course). Besides, he had already had an inkling you were into that kind of thing, coupled with your childish interests and tendencies.

He didn’t mind at all though. It was absolutely adorable the way you changed when it was just the two of you. The way you melt in his arms, become clingy and desperate for his touch. You go from Linkon’s fierce hunter and protector to his giggly little girl. And he couldn’t get enough. Knowing that he was a safe space for you to be this way meant the world to him.

However, you were feeling worse for wear and didn’t exactly want to be so agreeable today. You glare up at him and swat his hand away from your face, a nagging feeling of displeasure and nausea stirring in your gut.

And like waves crashing against the shore, emotions well up within you, pricking at the back of your eyes and bubbling in your head—discontent, worry, pride—all battering against the vulnerable neediness that yearns for tender care. Your lips press tight in a vain attempt to keep them from wobbling, pushing away the impulse to relent and fall into that soft headspace.

“Go away. Aren’t you supposed to be bathing in the blood of your enemies or something?” you spat, attempting to turn away from him. Sylus says nothing as he sets down the thermometer, moving closer to hold you in a tight embrace. You struggle against him for a few short moments, only stopping when the wooziness in your gut and head take over. Your body relaxes in his arms finally and he chuckles again.

“Done with your little tantrum?” he coos, planting a few kisses on your forehead. “And for your information, my enemies can wait. I gotta make sure this sick little kitten feels better don’t I?”

You don’t respond, still in the midst of your internal battle with your head. Sylus definitely notices but doesn’t say anything, taking a look at the thermometer again. He gets up momentarily, heading to the bathroom and coming back with a cool wash cloth.

A cool washcloth wipes over your forehead to clear away the sweat, gentle fingers resting under your chin to keep you still. You start to shake your head in protest, stopping immediately when your vision swims and your stomach induces a sharp pain. You lean over, clutching yourself as you groan in agony. Sharp, angry. stabs erupt all over your insides and you wheeze a little. Tears prick your eyes and slide down your cheeks. Sylus touches your back and begins to rub you, causing you to immediatly sit back up and try to compose yourself.

“I-i don’t need you” you persist, still clutching your stomach. “It’s probably just something bad I ate at work, I’ll be fine”. Every fiber of your mind is trying to fight back against going into your fluffy headspace. A growing part of you wonders why you’re even resisting this hard. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just let go and let him take control?

Sylus watches your labored movements, listening to your halfhearted attempt to lie while still making small circles on your back. His face adorns a stern expression, clearly not believing a single word you’re saying.

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie” he smiles, his hand leaving the small of your back. “It’s okay to want me, though. I want to take care of you”. His voices drips in reassurance, his unwavering gaze shines with his love and acceptance—the genuine sincerity piercing your soul and vaulting you past your breaking point.

It’s near audible the way your remaining resolve crumbles, leaving you sniveling and grabbing onto his shirt with a fierce, unrelenting grip. He of course reciprocates immediately, lifting you into his lap with ease.

A sigh pushes past his lips, clearly relieved that you finally let go for him. He adjusts the both of you so you’re both further on the bed, his back against the headboard as you straddle his lap and hug him around the neck.

He hushes your sobs, wiping your tearstained face and running his fingers over your hair. Your head finds a resting place on his heart, the steady and rhythmic beat gently relaxing you even more in his hold. Incoherent apologies and words begin to spill from your mouth and into chest. Although he can’t quite understand you, he simply lets you, no irritation or anger to be found anywhere on his face.

“I’m not mad pretty girl, but you can be pretty stubborn when you want to be” he smirks, giving you a light squeeze for further reassurance. “You’re lucky you’re so cute”

You grunt in his chest, pouting slightly. You lift your head a bit, positioning your lips to his neck, slightly biting it in retaliation. While Sylus had no bodily reaction, he slightly raised his eyebrow at your feeble nibbling.

“Oh? Is this little kitten biting her owner?” he scoffs, sliding his hand under the back of your shirt a little. “Seems you’re feeling better after all hm?”

“Hmph. A little…I mostly just find you annoying” you hiss, biting into the skin of his neck a bit harder. Sylus responds by dragging his hand into the hem of your sweatpants, squeezing the roundness of one of your asscheeks. You squeal, jumping back to glare at him.

“Seems we’ve found the cure to your illness, little one” he grins, seemingly enjoying the flustered reaction you just gave him. “You can bite me all you want if you can handle the consequences”

Your mouth left his neck and you looked up at him, already feeling flustered by his words.

“Consequences?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. Feigning ignorance was just something you did to stall him.

“Of course. You have to teach kitties not to bite the hand that feeds them. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, smugness dripping from his voice. You roll your eyes, a wave of nausea overcoming you once again. You wince, leaving Sylus’s lap and laying next to him.

“Im too sick to do any of that anyways…” you whine, looking up at him from your new position. You reach both hands up to him indicating you want to be held. He obliges, repositioning himself to your side and taking you in his arms.

“Is it your stomach still? Want me to rub it?” he asks. You weakly nod, lifting up your shirt a bit so he can slide his hand over. He gently starts caressing the softness of your tummy, making you whimper a bit from the ticklish sensation.

“Too gentle Sy, a little harder…”

“Are you gonna start complaining next that I’m doing it too hard? Make up your mind now sweetie” he chuckles.

You grit your teeth in slight irritation but mostly embarrassment from his teasing. Still, the panging waves of nausea leave no energy for smart or quirky remarks.

“Harder please?” you whimper, half questioningly and half plead. He nods, beginning to rub your stomach with a more intense motion than before. You stifle a groan as his hand shifts back and forth across the skin of your tummy, almost immediately alleviating the pain. You weren’t sure if this was some kind of placebo, or if Sylus’s touch was really just that good. Closing your eyes, you unwittingly let out a few sighs and whimpers.

“Is this hurting you more sweetie? Or does it feel good?”

Sylus’s voice trails off, a knowing and smug expression appearing on his face. Your eyes shoot open, heat creeping across your cheeks and ears.

“Not like that!! It just feels nice…perv” you spat, but you don’t move his hand away. You hear him chuckle as you close your eyes again, once more lost in the sensation of his cold hands massaging the skin of your stomach. You feel yourself getting lost in the motions of his touch, and for once in that entire day, you felt like dozing off.

It wasn’t until you felt his hand slide a bit lower than anticipated that you peered your eyes open a little. But you didn’t flinch or glare at him. Your breath simply hitched, a warm feeling starting to ache in your core. Sylus eyed your expression, pausing momentarily to gauge your reaction.

“If you don’t want me to go lower just say so” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your ear. “But…it might help you feel a little better hm?”

Instinctively you push your lower half up against his hand, the adrenaline and excitement beginning to pool through your veins. Your nausea still lingering, but long forgotten at this point. Taking that as a very clear sign, Sylus crept the rest of his fingers down your sweats, methodically creeping them under your underwear, and finally to your aching heat.

You gasp at the sudden coldness at your clit, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed. As he slowly and methodically starts making circles around your clit, you can feel yourself getting practically out of breath. Letting out a small whine, you peer at Sylus with a pleading expression.

“Don’t-dont tease me, I don’t feel good…” you mewl, tears beginning to prick your eyes. You were telling the truth, feeling so worked up already that any teasing today was certainly going to send you over the edge.

Sylus chuckles, wasting no time to give you what you were wanting. He undoubtedly enjoyed seeing you in such a pathetic state, but how could he say no to the whiny little kitten mewling at his side right now? He places his index finger over your bud, earning a much louder moan from you. You buck your hips into his hand, trying to gain even more sensation.

“Mghm! Keep going…like that…” your voice shakes with desperation. Your hands clutch at the muscles of his arms, trying to keep yourself from shaking like a scared animal. It normally took much longer to get you to this point, but today you needed it so much more. You needed him. And he definitely knew by the way he was granting mercy so quickly.

“So needy for my touch aren’t we~?” Sylus coos, keeping up the unrelenting pace on your bud as promised. “Does my little girl want to cum?”

You nod fervently, breath hitching in your throat as an intoxicating wave of pleasure begins to crest within you. Sylus, ever attuned to the intricacies of your body, senses the impending climax and, much to your displeasure, deliberately slows his pace.

The urge to protest, to lash out in frustration, flares within you, but you're acutely aware of the futility of challenging him. Instead, you gaze up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, silently pleading for release, for heaven.

“Ah ah, you know better. Use your words kitten” his voice commanding but soft. His feathery tone of voice compels you to obey him, your mouth opening slightly ajar to try and tumble the words out, all the while he still circles your aching bud with painful, slow strokes.

“Please Sy, I wanna cum, please?”

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, how cute”

You don’t get the chance to retort before you feel a sudden intrusion slicking through the wetness in your hole. You gasp, nails embedding themselves in Sylus’s forearms as he unrelentingly begins to finger you with his index whilst his middle continues the pace on your clit. A soaring heat breaks in your core, and you’re practically on the edge of climax when you peer at his lower half, his cock practically bursting out of his own pants. You reach for it instinctively, but Sylus catches your wrist before you could unzip him.

“Daddy…I want you to feel good too” you whimper, voice strained as you try to delay your own release. You try to reach again but unsuccessfully. Sylus shakes his head, pinching your clit slightly. You jump, his swift punishment making you relent and bury your face against him.

“Good girl, see it’s better when you listen to me isn’t it?” he whispers. “Just lay there and cum on my fingers sweetie”

You moan against his chest in response, ecstasy flooding your body and core with one last stroke of your bud. You choke out his name, shaking and panting against his body as your own body obeys his words. Abdomen and thighs shuddering under his gaze as he takes in the sight of you coming undone for him. Even after you came down, his long and dexterous fingers kept pressing down against certain sweet spots, sending you into a new state of sensitivity.

“It hurts Sy…” you plead, attempting to move his wrist. He obliges, removing his wet fingers that are now coated in your desperation and release. He’s quick to move his fingers towards his mouth, and you shut your eyes out of embarrassment.

“Sylus, don’t taste it…I’m gross”

You hear him chuckle as he finishes the last drop off his finger, leaning closer to give you a deep but sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered, tasting yourself a bit on his lips. Still pretty gross to you, but exciting nonetheless.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he smirks, readjusting your underwear and pants back onto your body correctly. “You taste sweeter every single time”

You shove your face back into his body out of embarrassment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your expression. Your illness was long gone now, surpassed by your orgasm most likely. Smiling into Sylus’s warm body, fuzziness begins to cloud your brain. You hadn’t really slept at all last night, and only slept in increments through the day.

“Tired? Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up kitten” he says, a content smile creeping on his face, very much relieved that you felt well enough to sleep now.

Nestled in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the day began to dissolve. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sylus’s chest was a soothing lullaby, each breath a gentle nudge towards sleep. The soft hum of his whispered words filled the quiet space between you both, like a comforting melody that played just for you. Your eyelids grew heavy, fluttering closed as the familiar bourbon scent of Sylus’s cologne enveloped you. The world outside blurred into the background, until all that remained was the steady heartbeat beneath your ear, guiding you into a deep and peaceful slumber.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Small Surprises

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader

TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff

A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)

Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho

EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!

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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.

And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.

But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.

That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.

Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.

She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...

This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.

"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."

Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."

Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.

"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.

"They don't look right!" She complained.

"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.

The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.

He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.

But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.

"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"

Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"

"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.

"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."

'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.

"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"

Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.

"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.

"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."

"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.

Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.

"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.

"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.

"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.

"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"

The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.

Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.

He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.

Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.

"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.

"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.

"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."

The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"

"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.

The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.

You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.

Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...

Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.

Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.

"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"

Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!

"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.

"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.

"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.

"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"

Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.

You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.

"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.

"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.

Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...

"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.

"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."

You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.

"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.

"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.

His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."

"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.

"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"

"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.

"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.

"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.

"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.

"Hippo Lady?"

"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"

"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.

"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."

"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.

"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!

What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.

That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.

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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.

You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.

And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.

Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.

You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"

You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.

One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.

His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.

He did make out the name "Steven".

"Uh--" He said awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".

"Uh..."

"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.

"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.

"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.

"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.

"You..."

'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.

"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.

"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.

"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.

Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.

"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."

"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.

Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.

Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.

"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."

"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.

"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"

Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.

'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.

"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.

Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.

"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."

"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."

"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.

"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.

"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.

"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."

"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.

He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.

"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.

Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."

"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.

Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"

"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.

"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."

'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.

Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.

'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.

'Pot, meet kettle...'

'Touché...'

"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.

"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."

"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."

"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.

"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...

'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'

Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...

"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.

"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."

"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."

The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.

'Wow...'

'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.

Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.

"You okay?" You ask him.

"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."

You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.

"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.

"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.

'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.

'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'

Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.

Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.

And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.

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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.

One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.

He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.

But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.

And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.

He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...

All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.

And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.

You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.

He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.

Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--

Jake's hands stopped knitting.

Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.

When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...

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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.

She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.

"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"

"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.

"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"

You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.

And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.

In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.

He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?

And wow! So close by, too!

Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.

"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.

But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.

Then, he looked up.

You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.

You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.

"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.

"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:

Hi :)

The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.

Hello

You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.

You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.

Steven or Marc?

He smiled at you and scribbled back.

Jake

Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!

They've told me a lot about you, too.

"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.

"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".

You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.

You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.

"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.

You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.

That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.

Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.

He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.

He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".

That was how you met Jake Lockley.

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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.

But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?

It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)

You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.

You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.

It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.

The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.

For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...

They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...

But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.

Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.

That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.

You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...

"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.

You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...

But you decided to call instead.

That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...

♫"Lonely is a man,

Without looove~"♫

'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.

'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.

Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...

Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.

"H-Hello..."

"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.

'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.

'Busted.' Jake almost sang.

You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?

And then there's the phone!

Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.

You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.

Would this make you both the bad and good cop?

You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.

"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."

Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.

"Okay..." He peeped.

'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.

'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.

"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.

You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"

Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...

"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.

Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.

"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"

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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?

Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.

That would shut him up for a little while, surely.

Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).

You hesitated, at first... But...

They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.

Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.

Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.

But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.

Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.

As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.

You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.

"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.

"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."

"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.

Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.

"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"

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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.

Yeah, you knew how that story ended.

But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.

Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.

After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.

He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.

You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.

God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.

And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?

Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.

"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.

Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."

You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.

Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.

Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.

"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.

"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.

She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."

Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.

He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.

"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.

"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"

"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.

"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.

"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."

As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.

"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.

When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.

The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...

But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.

You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.

Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.

"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"

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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.

They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.

You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.

Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.

It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.

Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.

But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.

"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.

"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.

"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"

He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.

Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.

Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.

"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"

He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.

"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.

His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.

"G'night daddy."

He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.

He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.

You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.

"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I..." He said, his voice breaking.

You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.

It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...

"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."

Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...

He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.

He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.

'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.

'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.

"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.

"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.

"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."

Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.

"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."

"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.

You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.

"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.

"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.

Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.

"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."

"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.

Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.

You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"

She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.

"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.

She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.

"There's a bird-man in my room."

[cottoncandytomu]

Scream For Me Doll~ Ghostface!Ellie x F!Reader

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEREEEEEE!!!

(I do not own any of the photos! Just edited them, if they are yours and you want them removed lmk!!)

GHOSTFACE!ELLIE AI AUDIOS HERE!!

Before I even start-

18+ CONTENT MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS FIC IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR MINORS!!

PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU INDULGE IN THIS FIC!!

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish this fic, I wanted to make it the best I could for you deranged Beauties~. I will say though, I only proofread half of it (I'll proofread the other half later - sorry I just wanted to post it already heeheheh~) so any mistakes I apologize they will be fixed in the future!

Those who asked to be tagged, if you're not interested in this fic in particular or want to be removed please lmk!! :}

WARNINGS!! PLEASE READ!!

This fic IS NOT for everyone, so please if it isn't your cup of tea...move on. Any type of hate sent my way I ask for it to not be anonymous so I can do you the justice and block you straight up. This fic contains the following: (If I forget to put a TW please let me know so I can add it on!!)

LOTS of dark themes, Filthy smut, Knife play, Blood play, Self harm (Ellie's behalf - slightly intentional - she cuts herself on the blade), Degradation (Very minor), Possessiveness, Stalking, Cursing, Deranged reader and Ellie, Mentions of murder/killing.

I think that's it - again if I missed anything please let me know. BUT that's about it folks, hope you Beauties~ enjoy!! (7839 Words)

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The sound of breathing was the only thing to be heard, Ellie’s warm breath bouncing off the flesh of the mask and back into her own. She learned very quickly how to stay quiet in situations like these. Her robe almost touched the floor, flowing right along with her movements. The sun had set hours before, a warm yellow moon took its place. Darkness cascades over the town, it was during these hours where she thrived the most. The shadows made for her stalk within the night, hiding all of her secrets in its shroud. She slowly creeps towards your window, forever thankful that your room was located on the first floor. 

A lot of her nights were spent like this. Reveling in her recent victims over the weeks to then come and celebrate by watching you at your most vulnerable. You weren’t on her hit list, far from it actually. Her obsession for you was different, not one of bloodlust. Although she’d love to see the deep velvet color of your blood drip down your stomach. The tip of her blade digging into your skin, not too hard, not too soft, but enough to pierce the skin. She’d imagine rubbing her gloved thumb across the liquid, smearing it towards your hip bone. Where she’d then grip your waist, squeezing the soft flesh in her palm. 

Her true bloodlust was for the imbeciles who fell into her traps, never clever enough to understand the gravity of the situation they’ve put themselves in. What genius would walk through an alleyway alone after a night of drinking? Or answer a phone call in the deep hours of the night? Only idiots would and Ellie hated the idiots of the world. The ones who deserved to be silenced by her blade, one less ignorant human on this planet. She saw the evils she committed as an act of justice. Just what society needed, one less idiot to exist. But fuck there were so many. That’s why she enjoyed you the most. You weren’t like them. 

The way you were always aware of your surroundings, keeping up on the latest murders of the month. Those murders being her own work of course. She saw the way your eyes lit up at the idea of figuring out who the infamous Ghostface was. You were determined, it was cute in your own way. Ellie was always one step ahead though, she knew about your obsession with the slasher. Being your close friend was her advantage to the game. It was her fun version of tag, except for the fact that you were unaware you were playing it with her. Coming so close to touching her, the tips of your fingers stretched out wide but she was able to run and hide. You having to start all over again just when you were so close. She loved when you got close. 

She’d listen to all the theories you’d come up with about who Ghostface could be. You’ve gotten close a few times, even if it was jokingly pointing the finger at her. You’d laugh off the idea of Ellie being Ghostface. It’s too hard to believe your childhood friend who you’ve spent every waking moment with to be the one. You told her she didn’t have the guts to commit such acts, too blinded by the nurturing friendship the two of you shared. As clever as you were, in which Ellie respected, you always missed that one piece. 

There was a moment that she did want to tell you, to scream it off the rooftops or to stand outside your house with it written in bold letters. Hey, it’s me! I’m Ghostface! Surprised huh? But she knew that’d be too risky, as much as she trusts you with her life she doesn’t fully know if you’d be able to keep this under the wraps. Would you run away screaming, telling the first officer you see? Or is there that slight chance that you’d be alright with it… 

This was another fantasy Ellie loved to live in. You overjoyed with the fact that she was the one. Running up to her and caressing her mask, blood staining the tips of your fingers just moments after her fresh kill. But she knew better. Out of all the secrets you two shared, this was the only one she kept to herself. 

Little did she know you had secrets of your own. Your obsession with the slasher didn’t just end at finding out who it was. You wanted them for yourself. You wanted to trace their mask with your fingers, dragging them down the oversized robe and over to their gloved hand. You dreamt of grabbing that hand that yielded the knife. Tracing it up your chest to your delicate throat. To feel the cool blade against your skin would welcome heat that would pool between your thighs. You wanted them to use you how they wanted, bending at their will, doing whatever for them. It was a fucked up fantasy you couldn’t stop. But did you truly want it to stop? 

You had to bite your tongue every time you talked to Ellie about them. She was intrigued with your theories, always ready to listen in on the newest piece of evidence you brought up. But you didn’t want to face the judgment of her words when you told her the main reason you wanted to see what was behind the mask. You imagined her reaction once. You didn’t imagine it again after that. 

As she peers in she feels her chest swell up. It never felt any different for her, you always made her feel a certain way. Especially during these times. When she had the mask on, it changed her. She became a different person, she felt free. She felt like her true self. It was funny in a way, usually people put on a mask to hide their identity. But it wasn’t the same for Ellie, it brought out the worst in her. She loved every second of it. 

You were fast asleep in your bed, legs in a tangled mess with your blankets. Your brows were furrowed, tightly knit together. She was curious as to what you were dreaming about. Was it a nightmare? Troubles from something that happened earlier in the day? It took everything in her to not climb in through your window, coming close to you to smoothen out the lines between your brows. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, taking in how soft they looked. How badly she wanted to glide her gloved fingers across them. Just to hook them into the side of your mouth and pull back the flesh, making you smile like the joker. 

Her nightly ritual would soon come to an end. Much to her disappointment she had to go back to being the regular old Ellie. The Ellie no one suspected was Ghostface. She took in your features one last time before descending back into the night, the darkness consuming her once again. 

Finding the abandoned shed by her house she shed herself of her shroud and mask, putting them away in her pack. She returned home shortly after, unlocking her door with her key. She couldn't wait to also get some rest. Unbothered to do anything else besides sleep she threw her pack across the room. Flopping into the bed it didn’t take long for her to be whisked away into lust filled dreams of your face. 

The next morning came in a hurry. Ellie woke up in a sweat, the stuffy heat of the summer causing her clothes to stick to her skin. It didn’t help that she fell asleep with her jeans and t-shirt on, too tired the night before to change into something more comfortable. Her hand reaches over on her nightstand, grabbing her phone she checks the time, 11 a.m. It wouldn’t be long until you’re knocking at the door, you both had previously made plans to go out today. Finally having a matching day off you didn’t want to waste it away, even with the stupid curfew in place. Jackson didn’t have much to do but you both made it work. Your favorite spot was going deep into the forest, dangerous yes, but you enjoyed the quiet serene scene. The only sounds being what nature wanted to sing to you that day. 

Today would probably be one of those forest days. The overwhelming buzz of fear that clouded the skies of Jackson was starting to be too much for you to handle. You wanted, no needed, a mini escape from it all. And who better to escape all of it with none other than your loyal friend. She understood how you felt, how sick of the people you were. She understood it all too well. 

Ellie placed the phone back down on the nightstand, rubbing her eyes as she sat herself up. Letting out a sigh she climbs out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. It doesn’t take long until you’re knocking at her door. Toothbrush in her hand she rushes over to let you in. Your soft smile sends flutters to her stomach, precious as always. She sends a smile back your way, standing off to the side to let you in. You were wearing a regular t-shirt and shorts that hugged your thighs just right, she couldn’t help her eyes from checking you out. After you walk in she closes the door and returns to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

You walk over to the door to the bathroom, leaning against the frame watching her finish up. You gave her a knowing look and she knew what would come out of your mouth before you even said it.

“New evidence?” She asks. 

Your grin widens, “Maybe…”

“Spill, now.” 

This happened often, you’d have some new “gossip” about the killer from your unresting research. While Ellie would sit and listen, wanting to know how close you’ve gotten this time. 

“So you remember a week ago when that random man was murdered?” 

Ellie pretends to think about it for a second. She knew exactly who you were referring to, he was a tough one. His extreme persistence to survive almost caused him to escape her grasp, almost. She nods at you. 

“Well apparently he put up a fight.” 

Ellie’s face cringed, thinking back on the memory. Her expression quickly changed to a confused one, now wondering how you knew about his persistence. 

“I know I know, the only reason I found this out is because of someone sharing some info on Reddit.” She waits for you to continue on. “So their Dad is a cop blah blah, shit no one cares for. But because of this he gets inside info. So get this, they found a piece of the handle to the blade Ghostface used to kill him. There’s some overly complicated science as to how they know he struggled. But the piece of it gives them a slight advantage on what weapon the killer uses. It’s honestly crazy how the knife broke. It’s said that the Buck 120 is very durable, some luck huh?” 

Fuck-

Ellie knew her mistake but didn’t think it would be found so soon. By the time she realized the piece had fallen off it had already been too late. That night she was consumed with the need to see you. Specially after that persistent fuck gave her such a hard time. The stress of it all ate her alive, for once she feared she would be discovered if he was able to escape her grasp. Luckily with one hard strike she was able to finally take him down. Enraged after the fact she kept up the hard strikes at his weak skin. Definitely a blood bath, all the emotions clouded her mind. She didn’t realize that her harsh slashes may be the one thing to bring her demise. When she saw you that night all the stress seemed to disappear. She returned home that night, dread still heavy on her head. Seeing you truly did help her but soon as she left you it all came back. The next morning was when she saw the lost piece in her handle. Cursing herself at her stupidity, it was too late. She never goes back to a kill, no matter how satisfying or difficult. It was too risky, the bodies were found usually a day or so after she ended them. 

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice. “Earth to Ellie, you there?” 

She rinses her toothbrush and spits out the paste in her mouth to answer you. 

“Yeah.” She laughs it off, “Sorry. Just thinkin’ about what you said.”

You tuck in your lips nodding slowly at her words. “It’s crazy to think about isn’t it? I’ll find out who it is eventually I know it.” 

“Oh you do now?” Ellie forgets about her previous thoughts. More interested in your words instead. 

“Mhm~ You know how close I’ve gotten.” 

“I also know how many times it’s slipped from you too.” 

“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear this shit talk when I find out who it is. I’ll prove everyone wrong.” 

Sure you will. Ellie thinks, “I’m gonna talk shit regardless. You know this.” 

You laugh at her words, “You’re right. Anyways hurry up, I wanna be out as long as I can before curfew.” 

Ellie finishes up what she has to, not wanting to keep you waiting. As she gets her things together you go to sit on the couch, patiently waiting. After she’s done you both head for the front door. Before you can leave Ellie mutters a hold on forgetting one last thing. She goes back into her room before descending out with her guitar case in hand. You smile warmly at her. You always loved when she would bring her guitar. Playing the tunes you were never tired of hearing. You opened the door for her letting her exit with her case. Following her out you both took off to the calming forest. Letting go of all the troubles that plagued your minds. 

After a few hours you and Ellie made it back to her house. The time spent in nature was a refresher you both needed. Similar reasons neither of you were aware of. The two of you didn’t eat the whole day so you both agreed to get food once settled in Ellie’s home. Not wanting the night with you to end Ellie made sure to invite you over after. She knew she’d be around you. Regardless if you stayed or not. She could either have you here or have you through your window. As much as she did enjoy the latter, she wanted to be around you as long as you’d allow. Even if it was when she was regular Ellie. 

The both of you settled down onto the couch. Ellie loaded a game up to pass the time, knowing you’d enjoy watching her play. Ellie made you comfortable no matter the situation, being in her presence made you feel such a relief. A relief no one could provide in the same way that she can. You were scrolling through restaurants in the area on your phone. Stretched out sideways along the couch. Your back against the armrest and your legs over Ellie’s as she sat regularly. Her arms were resting on your lower thighs, fingers pressing away at the buttons. She told you to pick what you wanted, not caring what you’d order. She’d eat whatever you put in front of her anyway. You didn’t want anything too crazy, just something comforting and simple. Which is why you decided on pizza, can’t get more simple than that. 

“I’m gonna get us some pizza.” You look up at Ellie from your phone.

Her eyes were trained on the screen, “Sounds good to me.” She shrugged slightly, replying. 

“Okay I’ll get us a large and a drink as well.” 

Ellie throws a quick glance in your direction, “My card should be in my pack in the room.” 

“I can just buy it Ellie…” 

“Fuck no.” When she looks back at you, this time she doesn’t break eye contact, “I invited you over to eat so I pay for it, yeah?” 

You didn’t bother to argue back with her, you’d lose in the end. You always did. You mumbled alright and she lifted up her arms so you could slip off the couch. The warmth of your legs were gone, causing her to shiver from the cool feeling of her air conditioner. 

You walked over into her room searching around for her pack. Your eyes scan the room when they finally land on it thrown over into the corner. You walk over kneeling down to open it up, digging through it you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your finger. Pulling your hand back from the pack with an ow you look hold your hand to see blood dripping from your middle finger. 

“What the fuck?” You mumble. 

Instead of making the mistake to dig around unaware again you slowly pull open the sides of the pack, opening it up to peek at what's inside. Your brows furrow at the black cloth harshly shoved in it. Slowly pulling it out to examine it an object flops to the floor. Snapping your head down your eyes widen, You can feel the blood draining from your face. A sharp flutter fills your stomach, it was a mask. But not any mask, a Ghostface mask. Picking it up with your free hand to examine it you now notice the red splatters, it stands out from the contrast of the bold white mask. Is that…blood? You think to yourself, it can’t be. This is a joke, there's no way she’s Ghostface. You smirk to yourself, was she really trying to fuck with you like this? She’s done stupid jokes before but never went as far as buying the costume to trick you. Some tricks, huh. Nice try Ellie. 

Did she really think you were that naive? You were going to get up and confront her when the sting of your finger got your attention again. You almost forgot about the cut, you then realized that nothing in your hands could’ve sliced you like that. Don’t tell me she bought a knife too, oh Ellie-. You reached into the pack again, carefully this time knowing your chances of getting cut again were high. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the light shine off the blade, she really outdid herself this time. You grasp the handle and bring it out from the bag, it was the exact kind of knife Ghostface used. The knife had the smeared red on the blade as well. 

One part of you couldn’t believe the lengths she’s gone this time to fuck with your “investigation.” But the other part of you couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of her going this far. She didn’t truly know what these things did to you. If it was her, which was a long shot, you wondered how much easier everything would be. Not having to worry about who was behind the mask, not that you really cared, but it was something that crossed your mind. What if it was someone you couldn’t stand, would you be able to still keep up that fantasy of them? Could you still keep it up if it was Ellie? Your feelings for Ellie were that of a roller coaster. In friendship terms everything was smooth sailing, there’s no one else on the planet you could trust your life with more. But when it came to the topic of it being more than a friendship, that was a different story. You can’t say you never had feelings for her, you have. You just pushed them down when you realized how badly it could ruin everything. Plus you had no idea, doubted even, that she liked you the same. So you buried your own feelings deep inside, not daring to let them out again. Sometimes though she’d do things that made you shiver. That would cause those feelings to bubble over again, reaching for nothing but the disappointment you’d give them when you continued to shove them under again. 

Although, to know that she did this all for you made those feelings bubble over again. Could she have a clue about your true intentions of wanting who was behind that mask? Is that why she went this far? To make you believe it? To fall for her instead of the true Ghostface? No, she wouldn’t, it’s just a dumb prank. 

You laughed at your thoughts, going the extra mile once again, your delusions would constantly take control when the masked killer was involved. You twirl the knife in your hands one last time before you decide to put it down. As you check it for the last time your fingers smooth over something rough on the handle. Curious, you look at what the disturbed surface could be. 

As you study the handle your heart drops. No, no, no- this can’t be happening, you think. You can feel the anxiety swell up in your chest. You forget how to breathe, your thoughts racing a million miles a minute. All of the countless hours you spent searching, all of the sleepless nights you’ve had. The endless amount of research you would study, day after day. Stuck scrolling on your computer not resting until you get so close to finding out who it could be. The theories of all the different people you had, you even bought a cork board to help your search. You pulled some crazy shit you kept to yourself to find out where or who they could be. Putting yourself in danger in hopes that you’ll be the slasher's “next prey.” 

All of this for what? For it to be your best friend this whole time. The one person you were so sure of it not being. Fuck you felt so stupid. You grew up with her, you knew her better than you knew yourself. You felt pride in knowing that she would never be capable of such a thing, but she was. And here you are, staring at the handle with the piece of it missing that was just discovered by the authorities. As much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t. Why did you want to deny it? 

In a way this makes everything easier, your mind travels back to your earlier thoughts. The thoughts of what if Ellie was the killer. But why didn’t she kill you yet? If no one was safe from her slashes then why were you? Question after question filled your head, trying to piece all the evidence together to figure out just what you have missed. While in deep thought you heard a loud thud. Locking in place you slowly turned your head to the sound. 

Ellie stood by the door, frozen. The controller that was once in her hand now faced upside down on the floor. She was wondering why it was taking you so long to grab your wallet. She knew it was in her room, in some pack that she threw on the floor yesterday. She hasn't touched it since. It wasn’t until she started thinking about it that she felt the color drain from her face. She was so exhausted yesterday that she forgot to put her Ghostface pack in the hiding spot she usually does. It slipped from her mind until this moment. Now she’s paying the consequences, walking in on you holding her knife. The very knife you just talked about hours earlier. The single piece of evidence that would be 100% proof of Ellie being Ghostface. 

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Scared that any wrong move would result in your panic, your screams filling the air as you ran for the door. But you didn’t. You didn’t move an inch, holding the knife in your hand you stared back at her. All of this time it was her, you didn’t want to admit it but you felt a sense of relief. You did it, you found out who Ghostface was. 

You opened your mouth, trying to get something out, anything out but you couldn’t. Caught like a deer in headlights you thought about your next move. As you thought about it, so did Ellie. You weren’t supposed to find out, even if you did she didn’t want it to be this way. She wanted it on her terms, if she were to ever tell you anyway. 

As flustered as she was she managed to speak first, “Seems like all that research paid off huh?” She chuckles. 

Leave it to Ellie to make light of a situation like this, you were used to it though. She always jokes around when shit hit the fan, it was one of the many things you loved about her. You just weren’t so sure if this time was the right time for it. You looked down at the knife again, your fingers gliding against the abrasion.

“It was you the whole time…” Ellie’s eyes widened at your voice, “I busted my ass on research and it was right in front of me the whole time.” 

“Surprise…?”  

You let out a dry laugh at her response, how could you be so fucking stupid. She goes to open her mouth to speak again but you beat her to it. 

“Do you know why I really wanted to find out who Ghostface was?” 

Fuck it. It was out in the open so you might as well be honest. You didn’t know where this confidence came from but after finding out who a serial killer was you realized you only really have two options. She would let you go, which you think is unlikely or she would have to end it right here right now. Killing you to keep the risk of her being found out by the public. You didn’t think she was capable of killing you, you were her childhood best friend after all. 

She stays quiet, letting you continue. You figured you had nothing to lose now, why not let it all out in the open. 

“Finding out who was behind the mask really isn’t all that important to me. Honestly I could give less of a fuck who’s behind it. I just want them for myself. My fucked up fantasy of being with the slasher is all that I’ve been craving.” You sigh, your words becoming just a whisper. “It’s sick… I know.” 

Did Ellie just hear you correctly? Are her fantasies becoming reality right before her eyes? All those nights at your window, watching you, craving you. You writhing under her as she pleased you in the one thing that made her feel like her true self. She watched as your face fell in despair, you were ashamed. There’s no need to be ashamed. 

She wasn’t aware that she said her thoughts aloud, not realizing it until you lifted up your head. 

You looked at her with a shocked expression, “You don’t think so?” 

“How could I?” She starts, “You know what I do. I have no room to judge anyone, plus I’ve wanted nothing more than this.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, did you hear her correctly? 

She continues on, “I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever. I wanted to tell you so many times but I didn’t know how. Your reaction was something I was scared of the most. But now that I know you want this, I’m ready to take the next step.” 

“What is the next step exactly?” You ask. 

Ellie’s soft expression changes in an instant, a smirk adorning her lips. 

“I make you mine.” 

You felt a slight pang of fear but not too much. Her words catered to your sick mind, they went straight to your core. She took slow steps towards you, as to test the waters on how you would react. You didn’t move an inch, letting her slowly make her way towards you. The grasp you had on the knife tightened in anticipation. When she came close enough she reached out to your hands, loosening your grasp from the knife she took it from you. Her eyes leave yours to study the object in her hands, the object she knew all too well. Her eyes darken as she grasps the handle, pointing the tip of the blade towards you now. The smirk never leaves her lips when she drags the tip of the blade lightly up your throat, stopping to tilt your chin up towards her. 

“You want to be mine right?” She asks. 

You bite your lip, “Only if you’ll allow it.” 

It was at this moment that you saw the true change in her eyes. The Ellie you once knew, the Ellie you grew up with wasn’t the Ellie in front of you now. This Ellie was different…darker…possessive. You wanted to know this version of her more than anything, the true her behind the mask. The person you dreamt of having for so long was finally yours and you were hers. It was at this moment that you knew there was no going back, the two of you now becoming one in her secret. You’d do anything for her, be anything for her. She felt the same, all those nights she watched you at your window. She’d get rid of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way, she’d protect you from any danger that dared to wander around you. God forbid she catches the ones that hurt you, they’d regret their last moments. 

Her eyes flickered back towards yours, keeping eye contact for just a moment before trailing around your face. They stop at your lips, how badly she’s wanted to kiss the plush skin for so long. She wastes no time and throws her knife to the side. Grabbing at the sides of your face she roughly presses her lips to yours. Your hands grasp at her shirt, kissing her back with just as much fervor. The kiss was far from innocent, teeth clashing and spit mixing, just how she liked it. She took your bottom lip in her teeth, pulling at the flesh and letting it flick back in place. Her lips lock back onto yours, you pull her closer by her shirt, needing to get as close as possible. 

She pulls back after a few seconds, you let out a whimper at the loss. Your eyes filled with desperation as you stared up at her. She coos at the sight, her thumb swiping the spit across your bottom lip. 

She licks her lips, “You gonna let me have you tonight?” 

You enthusiastically nod your head, “Y-yes.” You’re still shaken up by the sloppy kisses you two just shared. 

“Yeah? Gonna let me try something out on ya?” 

You continued to nod your head, you didn’t care what she did to you. You’d give her whatever she wanted if she asked, she knew this. Yet she still wants to make sure you’re okay with it. She then took your hands in hers, pulling you to stand up along with her, she then led you to the bed. She pushed you back onto it, you flopped onto the mattress waiting for her next move. She admired you for a moment before walking back by her pack, she grabbed the mask off the floor and slipped it on. 

“You want me to fuck you in this mask hm?” She asks. Not giving you time to reply she continues, “How much did you dream about this?” 

Your words were stuck in your throat, it was all too much but it was so fucking good. You had envisioned how your first night with Ghostface would play out. Staring into their mask, their fingers buried in you, giving you the utmost pleasure you craved. But this? This was better than anything you could have imagined. Especially when it was with the one woman you loved more than anything. 

She picked up her knife, twirling it in her hands. 

“I would use this but that persistent fucker had to ruin it for me.” She shook her head, the loose fabric at the ends swayed in the air. “Good thing I got another.” 

She walks over to her closet, digging around until she pulls out another Buck 120. She flips it over, checking out the shining blade and admiring it. She loved nothing more than her ol’ reliable knife. 

“Got this one as a back up, y'know just in case incidents like before happened. A slasher must always be prepared~” 

Her head looks up, the soulless black eyes staring into yours. You can hear the teasing tone in her voice when she talks to you. She’s well aware she has you wrapped around her finger, ready to do whatever she pleases. 

She stalks towards you, “I’m gonna fuck you with this knife now~.” Her hold on the knife now tighter, “Don’t worry baby it’s clean, haven’t killed anyone with this one…yet.” 

Your eyes widened, her words went straight to your core. You couldn’t help the little fidgets your body made as she slowly made her way towards you. You couldn’t see because of the mask but her eyes were trained on your thighs that clenched together in anticipation. You couldn’t help but rub them together, needing some sort of friction to relieve the heat building up between them. 

You couldn’t help but ask, “Which side?”

Ellie groaned at your question, “Fuck baby~ you want the blade? Are you that psycho for me?” 

You didn’t particularly want to be mutilated tonight, even though somewhere deep down in your fucked up brain the thought was there, you just wanted to make sure Ellie was on the same page. 

“Just curious…” You reply. 

She now stood in front of you, knife in her right hand. Her free hand comes up to rest on your knee, pushing it to the side to open your legs up for her. You can hear her heavy breaths through the mask. 

“As much as I wanna see you bleed, I don’t want it that way. That’s what your thighs are for.” 

Her hand strokes down your thigh, stopping midway to squeeze at the flesh. She brings her knife up to your skin, slicing it lightly enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. She flicks up the knife, her skills on display as she scoops the blood onto the blade, bringing it up to her mask and smearing it on the white rubber. She drags the knife down to the tip of the chin, tapping it against it a few times, as if in thought of what her next move is. You whimper at the sting of the cut, little droplets still flowing from it. She reaches up to smear the blood across your thigh, taking her time watching the way the red liquid spreads. 

“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for me so bad. S’Better than I ever imagined.” 

You bite your lip, holding back your whimpers as you wait impatiently for her next move. You wanted her to do something, to do anything to relieve the ache you felt. She turns the knife around in her hand, the grip pointing towards you. 

“I’m gonna fuck you with the handle instead. That way every time I slash someone I have a memory of you with me. It’ll be the only thing I’ll think about with my victims.” 

Her words flooded through your veins, firing up every cell in your body. You didn’t know she had such a way with her words, if she kept going you’d probably climax just from them alone. As much as her words had an effect on you, you wanted her to go along with her promise. 

“Please…just fuck me already Ellie.” You beg.

“Patience Doll~ You out of everyone should know I like to take my sweet time when it comes to my victims. But since you said please, I’ll give you what you want.” 

She sets the knife down next to you on the bed, her hands grip at the waistband of your shorts pulling them down. You were soaked, the fabric of your panties so wet that you could see the outline of your pussy. 

“Mmh so wet for me, all I did was speak to you and draw a little blood.” Her thumb presses into your slit, pushing against your juices. 

Her fingers hook into your panties pulling out the fabric, she then grabs her knife and cuts off your panties. You breath hitches at how close the blade was to your core, any closer and she would’ve cut you. Making you bleed for the second time that night. She chuckles at your reaction then shoves the panties into her back pocket, saving them for later. 

She pushes up your thigh, opening you up for her and lines up the knife handle to your entrance. She teases you, gliding the end of it up and down your slit collecting up your juices to lube up the knife. 

“You ready Doll?” She asks. 

You whisper out a yes as she slowly slides the handle into your pussy, watching you grip onto it. You can feel her push back on your thigh more, making you stretch so she can get a nice view of you. Even though it was happening in front of her she couldn’t believe you were sprawled out before her like this. She’d catch herself staring at her knife imagining how it would look against your skin, how much she craved to slide it through your folds. Now that she was here it was almost too much, but she didn’t let her excitement take control. She wanted to fully immerse herself in this experience, taking all of you in. From the scrunches of your brows to the curling of your toes, she wanted to see all of you. 

She carefully dragged out the knife, her hand delicately holding the blade. She pushes the handle in and out of you, setting a slow steady rhythm. You writhe under her touch, not being able to hold back your moans anymore, the cool handle adding to the pleasure. You grab onto her wrist, holding her tight. You look up at her mask and she catches your movements tilting up her head. You’re staring hard enough to see her eyes through the meshed fabric, seeing the darkness behind them. She’s wanted this just as much as you did and you’re so glad it’s her that’s giving you this much pleasure. As good as it felt you wanted more, the slow pace was killing you. In a way you felt like she was holding back, still too afraid to lose herself, scared that she might hurt you. 

“Ellie…” You moan out, she twists the knife slightly muttering a yes. 

“Please don’t hold back.” Her movements stop and you whine at her, “I want you to let yourself go, let Ghostface come out.” 

Ellie’s hand quivered at your words, were you sure? Once she’s in that mindset she’s gone, she doesn't wanna risk too much. Although her dark thoughts were always in the back of her mind, how badly she wanted to drill her knife into you and watch you squirm at her force. 

“Baby, are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” 

You loved when she called you that, “Yes, I’m sure. I want it this way, I’m begging you~.” 

You gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze and that was all she needed before the light in her switched. The Ellie you grew up with, knowing better than anyone is not the Ellie that’s in front of you now. That confirmation from you was all she needed to let her true side take control. It happened so fast you didn’t know how to react, Ellie had grabbed you and flipped you over. Making sure your ass was up in the air, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. You braced yourself on your hands, an oof coming out of your lips when she pushed your face down into the mattress. 

You felt a harsh smack on your ass, you moaned at the sting it left behind. She kneads the flesh after, spreading you open and admiring you from behind. Without second thought she reaches down to grab the knife, this time firmly grabbing it by the blade as she plunges the handle inside you once again. She wastes no time fucking you hard and fast, her knuckles white from how hard she holds onto the blade. 

“F-fuck Ellie!” You gasp out. 

You’re in ecstasy, loving the way her demeanor changed. She loses herself in you, focused on the handle pushing in and out of you, how your juices cover the handle and drip down the blade onto her hand. 

“You like that Doll? You’re taking this knife so well~ M’so proud of you.” 

Your moans grow louder by the second, you’re not able to hold back anymore, not that Ellie wants you to anyway. You grip the bed sheets tight, your face repeatedly pushing into the mattress at her relentless force. You knew she was strong but fuck not like this. You were never really on the receiving end of her strength to truly know but now that you were you could see why no one stood a chance against her. She slaps at your ass again before she brings her free hand down to rub circles against your clit causing you to cry out. If she kept fucking you this way it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high. 

“Shit-” You heard her whisper. 

You whip your head to the side to look at her. You can see her head tilt up to look back at you, she suddenly took her hand off your clit to reach up and tear off her mask. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stuck to her face in other spots from her sweat. Her eyes were blown wide, a harsh darkness to them you’ve never seen before and her lips. Her lips were red and plush from how much she bit them at the sight of you. You were a masterpiece to her, this was all she ever wanted. When she pushed her hair out of the way you noticed the blood that smeared along her forehead. She saw your eyes on her hand and gave you a lopsided smile, her hand going back down to rub at your clit once more. 

“Fuckin’ you so hard I cut myself.” She laughs darkly, “You don’t mind right?” 

Well fuck-

Your eyebrows scrunched together at her words, “No!” You moaned. “Don’t mind.” 

You could barely form sentences from how good she was making you feel, she knew this and she reveled in that fact. A cocky smirk on her lips as her eyes watched the way you squirmed and stuttered under her. She could give less of a fuck that she’s bleeding, your pleasure being the only thing that matters. It didn’t take much longer for you to feel the build up in the pit of your stomach, you were close. 

“Ellie I’m so close, please don’t stop~”

“Don’t plan on it Doll~” Ellie replies, speeding up her movements, if that were even possible. 

You bury your face into the mattress but then you feel a harsh smack to your clit. 

“I wanna hear your moans Sweetheart, don’t hide them from me now.” 

You nod your head rapidly, tears are starting to form in your eyes from all the pleasure you’re experiencing. Who would’ve thought you’d be right here, experiencing the one thing you wanted the most, you never thought your day would end up like this. You’re thankful nonetheless, this is exactly what you wanted and you wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to you. 

It didn’t take long until you reached your high. 

“Ahh~ I’m cumming!” 

Your back arched more, pulling at the sheets so hard they come undone from the edges. Ellie doesn’t slow down her movements either, ignoring the pain in her hand she keeps sliding the knife in and out of you. She watched as your juices flowed down onto the blade and her hand, mixing in with her blood. It made her moan out loud, a sight she’d never forget. 

“Mmm cum for me Doll, just like that. I wanna see your juices on my blade.” 

She helps you ride out your orgasm and your legs start to tremble. She chuckles at the state you’re in and slowly pulls the blade out of your pussy, watching your sticky juice strings stick to the handle. You watch her bring up the knife to her lips, sucking your juices off the handle, you whimper at her actions. When she’s done she throws the knife to the floor, her hands back onto you she spreads her blood up your thigh and onto your ass cheek as she gives you one last squeeze. You’re panting as you turn yourself over to lay on your back, she helps you lie down with a dark smile. She loves how she got you to this point, as much as she’d like to do it again she decides to save it for another night. 

She reaches over to give your hand a quick squeeze saying she’ll be right back as she walks over to her bathroom. After a few moments she comes back with a wet towel, a cloth is tied around her hand to stop the blood from flowing. She walks over to you and wipes away all the blood and cum off your body, giving soothing strokes to your skin afterwards. 

“So…” Ellie starts, “You gonna turn me in?” 

You can’t help the snort that comes out of your throat, “Fuck off.” 

“Is that a no, or?” She questions a knowing smile on her lips. 

“I let you fuck me with your knife, do you think I’m gonna turn you in?” 

She laughs at your response, “Just fuckin’ with ya.” 

She climbs into the bed lying next to you, throwing the towel onto the floor, she faces you and strokes your cheek with the back of her knuckles. You look over at her with tired eyes and a warm smile, she really does switch up fast. 

The two of you wrap up in each other's arms for the rest of the night. You ask all about her time as Ghostface, wanting to know every gory detail and she tells you it all. After a few hours of chatting you both lay in silence, content in each others presence. 

Ellie speaks up first, “So…about that pizza?”

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RAVIOLIII!! I hope you all enjoyed my fic!! I thank you all for reading my content! I have more on the way but I will be taking a small break to work on my drag projects I got going on!! As always any feedback is appreciated as I always want to level up my writing. Thank you all for being patient with me!! You Beauties~ have a wonderful day/night!!

⛧Taglist⛧

(if you would like to be tagged in any of my works lmk hehe~)

@moonlightdivine , @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshametohidemyshame

[alice-after-dark]

Vox as an Abuse Victim

So here is that massive Vox post I promised, a day late for...reasons. I swear I have been working on this post for days, even before that StaticMoth discourse influx in my inbox.

After making my post about Vox and Angel and reading @deeply-unserious-fellow's post about a similar topic, I thought it might be finally time to make this post. Most people who have seen my content know how I typically portray StaticMoth. I have mixed feelings about Valentino at the best of times and outright dislike him at the worst. But frankly this post isn't actually about him (well, mostly). It's about Vox and why I am really hoping that Viv keeps the angle of Vox being an abuse victim.

TW for domestic abuse, physical violence, implied sexual abuse, abusive relationships, gaslighting/victim-blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contain abusive StaticMoth.

Honestly? The primary reason I hope she keeps it is because it would make him an even more complex character and bring attention to a criminally underrepresented group: abuse victims who are also bad people.

As pointed out in the post I tagged above, the world has become obsessed with this idea of a "palatable" victim, the poor suffering cinnamon roll. An abuse victim is expected to look like a victim. You're supposed to instantly feel sorry for them and want to protect them...but that's not so easy when the victim is someone who also hurts people, is it? It's not so easy to pretend they didn't do bad things too...but they are still a victim. That does not change just because they are a bad person. And thus it becomes complicated and interesting. Because it's not so easy to root for the victim when they're also victimizing others, especially when those others are people we care about...like Angel Dust. At the bare minimum, Vox is doing nothing to stop Valentino from abusing Angel or any of his other employees. Having Vox be a victim of the same abuse that Angel Dust suffers (at the hands of the same abuser no less) and yet also being someone who enables Angel's abuse creates a very complicated situation.

In a most media, the discovery of a mean/bad person being abused is frequently portrayed in a "well, they were abused so you can't be mad at them anymore" kind of light. Like "see? They're just an asshole because they were being abused! Now that we know, they're suddenly a good person!" Except that's not how it works. Someone can be a bad person and also be a victim. And even if them being an asshole was the result of their abuse, those behaviors and the consequences of those behaviors don't just vanish. They still hurt people and frankly I would riot if it came out that Vox was being abused by Valentino and then everyone in the show just up and forgave him for being an asshole. Like...no? He would still need to make up for his own shit and actually work towards being a better person. I like this character because he's an unapologetic asshole. If making him a victim takes that away, then that would be such a missed opportunity.

In fact, one thing I find interesting is that I definitely believe that Vox would have no problem admitting to being a bad person, but would rather fight an exorcist alone than admit to being a victim. His ego won't allow for it. He would probably laugh in your face and call you delusional while literally having a broken screen. Because he can't admit it, even to himself. He would see it as a sign of weakness and that's not acceptable to him (side note that being a victim does not make you weak, that's just what Vox's toxic mindset tells him). While I am fairly certain that he would have moved on from most 1950s mindsets since he is all about the future and progress and moving forward, toxic masculinity is still very much a thing today and I can definitely see him embodying it in some aspects, like needing to appear strong and in control at all times (and Hell's power hierarchy definitely encourages this mindset, so...). Fuck, even now in fucking 2024, men still have a hard time being taken seriously as the victims of abuse. Unless of course you fit a certain mold.

Angel Dust is the perfect example of this. He is a palatable male victim. He's effeminate, he's funny, he's friendly, he's caring, and we actively see him miserable in his suffering. Despite being in Hell just like the rest of them and having been a former mafia member and clearly able to stand on his own two feet it combat, his victimhood is constantly on display and the audience wants to protect and save him. On the opposite end, Vox is shown in a position of power that is constantly reinforced. He's an Overlord, he's manipulative, he's cruel, he's greedy, and he enables abusive behavior from others. He is not a palatable victim, which is why it's perfect.

Now let's get into what I believe is the actual evidence that this dynamic could still be present.

Something I see people commonly say is that Vox being abused by Valentino doesn't make sense because why wouldn't Vox just fight back? He could just shock Valentino into next Tuesday? And to these people I kindly say fuck you. Because while physical strength can be a factor in abuse, it is very rarely the thing that keeps the victim from leaving. Abuse, even when physical, is heavily psychological. It's like telling a victim "well, why didn't you just leave?" It's not that easy. Abusers tend to target those with low self-esteem and it's made pretty clear that Vox is a very insecure person (I feel the need to point out that having an ego and having high self-esteem are not the same thing, in fact having a big ego is typically a side effect of very low self-esteem). It's entirely possible that Vox makes the conscious decision not to fight back because he's afraid of what will happen if he does. He's afraid Valentino will leave. We know Valentino is just as mentally and emotionally abusive to those around him as he is physically abusive and we have actively witnessed him playing into Vox's insecurities and mentally messing with him (specifically in the events leading up to "Stayed Gone").

So let's talk about the scene leading up to "Stayed Gone," because I also see Vox's behavior towards Valentino here used as justification for why it's not possible for Valentino to be abusing Vox. Full disclosure, I myself in the past have even thought that it demonstrated them being mutually abusive towards each other, but have since changed my opinion after reading more takes and doing further analysis. Having rewatched this scene many times now, I have some observations.

There's a small moment that always caught my attention when I watched this scene because I wasn't sure what it meant, but looking at it in the context of this post, I think I can see a possibility. When Vox goes to see Valentino, he approaches the doors and they are opened for him by Valentino's servants. Vox pauses in the doorway, glances at them, then continues on inside.

What was the point of this moment? It seems out of place. Surely Vox has gone to Valentino's room before? Surely this door opening thing isn't new? And looking at Vox's face here, he looks...concerned? Like...they might hear what goes on inside? And he maintains that expression even as he enters the room, like he doesn't like that those two are out there and might hear them.

It also makes the entire situation feel so routine. Like Valentino is upset and these girls just expect Vox to show up and take care of it. And the scenes prior to this also sets it up as a normal occurrence. Vox rearranges his entire schedule to deal with Valentino, like he absolutely expects this situation could take up the rest of his day. And Valentino clearly doesn't listen to Velvette in this regard as she had to call Vox to come deal with Valentino despite him wrecking her department. Her comment even further establishes this as normal when she tells Vox that Valentino is "up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down." And when Vox arrives? "FUCKING FINALLY!" All of this sets up a standard situation: when Valentino is upset, it is Vox's job to calm him down and make him feel better. Valentino is a full grown adult and yet he has made it someone else's problem to manage his emotions.

Then of course we have the classic moment of Valentino literally throwing his glass at Vox only seconds after Vox has arrived. And this has to have been a conscious decision, because right before that, he throws his first glass on the ground before demanding another. So if he wanted to just break something, he didn't need to throw it at Vox, but he did. And I definitely don't think he cared if Vox got out of the way or not. But how easily Vox moves aside tells us that he fully expected to have things thrown at him and was ready for it. Now, I do believe that Valentino would throw shit at literally anyone when he is mad, but the key here is that Vox, his supposed friend, on-and-off lover, and business partner, is not exempt from this behavior. He even breaks Vox's phone when he realizes Vox is not paying attention to him. He has no qualms breaking Vox's property just to soothe his rage (I would also like to point out that he fucking obliterated that thing; just how hard did he fucking throw it?!).

Something in this scene that did initially throw me as I was writing this is that Vox doesn't seem particularly afraid of Valentino. Not the way we see Angel is when Valentino gets angry. We also see him actively get angry with Valentino, get in his face, and manipulate him. In the past, I believed this behavior from Vox to have established their relationship as mutually abusive. However, after reading yet another post from @deeply-unserious-fellow, I realized that everything Vox does here is only in direct response to Valentino's tantrum.

So let's go through some things here. When Vox initially tries to tell Valentino he can't go to the hotel, Valentino straight up ignores him. Does not respond to Vox's words, completely carries on like he didn't even speak. From this point on, Vox takes an entirely different approach to the situation. He manipulates Valentino into thinking that not shooting up the hotel is his idea and even offers further appeasement in the form of shooting his own employees as a method to satisfy Valentino's temper. I admit to initially viewing this as Vox being abusive, but frankly, when your options are being manipulative or letting your business partner go shoot up a hotel that houses the literal Princess of Hell, yeah, I'd take the manipulation route. Because, as I pointed out above, Vox cannot actually control Valentino. He tries to give him an order and is completely ignored. And even when he does successfully manipulate him, he still has to appease him in some capacity.

Now, there's also something here that is often played for shits and giggles, but I'm taking it 100% seriously right now. Many people point out that Vox's screen gets brighter when he gets in Valentino's face. Valentino is a moth demon and after Vox does this, he seems to be dazed for a moment, enough for Vox to rapidly switch back into manipulator mode and does his thing. It seems to have snapped Valentino out of his rage and I literally can't help but think that Vox has learned this as a defense mechanism. Valentino can't see very well, so it's very likely Vox's hypnotism doesn't work on him, so Vox had to find other ways of manipulating him and calming him down when he's in one of his rages.

Something I also want to point out is that it is made very clear through a single solitary moment that Valentino is in no way afraid of Vox. When he tells Vox about Alastor, Vox screams in his face, manhandles him, and Valentino just...pushes him off and saunters away, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He doesn't even look upset or concerned when Vox grabs him. He just...laughs it off...like he knows Vox won't actually hurt him. Because I genuinely think Vox won't. Later in the episode, we hear Valentino's voicemails to Angel Dust and how he's emotionally manipulating him, telling him he can't really get better. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's given Vox a similar treatment, especially considering that it's obvious Valentino knew what kind of reaction he would get out of Vox by bringing up Alastor. And sure, he brushes it off with a kink joke, but in all seriousness, why did Valentino keep Alastor's return from Vox? We know Angel has been at the hotel for a little while and Alastor has been involved with it as of a week prior to the beginning of season 1, so why suddenly bring it up? It's almost like he was specifically holding onto this information, waiting for the perfect time to use it that would be the most beneficial to him.

There's also another little scene that always caught my attention. It's when Valentino is getting pissed about the shadow construct that Angel Dust is flirting with.

Valentino starts getting pissy again, demands Vox's attention, gets annoyed when he doesn't get it, then immediately switches to mocking and confident when Vox starts bitching about Alastor. Like...he's so fucking proud of himself for getting Vox all worked up over Alastor. Like it's some kind of game for him. Riling Vox up and messing with his emotions is fun for Valentino. Alastor dredges up some real shit for Vox and Valentino exploits it. And from here on, he just keeps egging him on. Now, I'm pretty sure "Stayed Gone" would have happened with or without Valentino, but the point here is that he is definitely playing with Vox's emotions here.

As for the not being afraid aspect, again, Valentino hasn't actually threatened him with something that truly scares him. I don't think he's afraid of what Valentino could physically do to him. It's more likely to make him mad than anything else, even if he doesn't fight back (he'll probably go take out his anger on someone else). The thing about Vox is that we see that he does not like to appear weak in any capacity and I think this extends well into his own psyche. If he admits, even to himself, that he's a victim...to him, that's admitting weakness and he just can't do that. So Valentino's not abusing him, they just had a fight. He didn't hit back because he's in control of himself and he knows he could totally toast Valentino. It's Vox's own fault for pushing his buttons when he knew Valentino was mad. It wasn't rape cause he never said "no".

TLDR: Vox can be both an asshole and an abuse victim and it would be a really interesting aspect to his character as long as the show does it right and doesn't scrap his assholeness to make him a more palatable victim. Show him being a victim and also victimizing others. Show him not wanting to accept that he has been abused. LET PEOPLE BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH FEELING SORRY FOR HIM.

(that's all for now, I have literally been working on this post for days and I'm exhausted)

[fillinforlater]

When is the next part of Eleven to One: Hate You Lots coming? I am dying to see Chaewon become the next cum slut.

Eleven to One: What's to Hate?

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 4294 words

Tags: Daddy kink, nudist kink, submission, teasing, teaser, trap, making out, passionate kissing, being watched, girl on girl kissing, girl on girl action, fingering, loss of voice, loss of mind, breeding kink, hate sex, choking, riding, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, emotional manipulation, degradation, emotional hurt, everything is fucked up af, doggy, breeding doggy, self-restraint, female orgasm, creampie, good_girls!Minju and Yujin / broken!Chaewon (?)

TW: degradation, hate sex, emotional manipulation, the story is already very fucked up, what are you still doing here lmao?

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being my co-writer!

(A/N: Finally, another part to this... series. I don't even know how to describe it, but we'll go down a spiral and completely out of control lol. Here is the previous part btw, here is the rest of the series)

"Daddy, I found a letter in the mail."

Yujin's nude body slides through a small gap in your office door. Oh, what a life you're living. All your insane previous work hours reduced to two six hour shifts in your own apartments. Hyewon prepares, executes and delegates everything, you only need to check and sign. She is great and makes you millions in mere weeks.

"Thank you, Yujin. Put it on the pile with the others, right there." You point at a corner of your desk, but Yujin hesitates.

"I think this one is... special," she says and shows you the large envelope. "Look at this playful Emoji on it. Something seems to also bulge it, definitely not paper; something round I think."

"The Emoji looks more like a smiley, don't you think?" you ask, looking past the white, definitely filled envelope to your smocking hot girlfriend. She shrugs her shoulders, you almost believe her.

"Chaewon?"

"She'd never put a smiley on there for you!"

"Maybe she is mocking me?"

"Oh, Daddy," Yujin chuckles. "Just read it after work. I have to head out now, dance practice."

"Sure, but can I ask you a favor?"

Yujin turns around again and smirks. Her amazing thighs jiggle when she steps a bit closer again. You could ravage her every single fucking seconds of your life, if only that was a possibility.

"Yes, of course, Daddy~"

"Try to get both Chaewon and Minju here at 9pm—scratch that, 8pm. I want them both freshly exhausted."

Yujin ponders for a second, playing with her long hair, before leaning in close to your ear, her heat radiating straight to your face.

"Hm, I think I can arrange that."

#

“Hello? Yujin? I'm here."

Chaewon's loud voice comes from the front door of your apartment. It might still be enough to fill the vast confines of each room, but you can hear it slowly dwindle from hours and hours of vocal and dance practice. Surely she won't be able to keep this volume up for long.

"Should I call her?" Yujin whispers in your ear, obediently sitting on your thigh. 

"Let her look for you. Where is Minju?" you ask and take a look at your watch. 7:58. Interesting. Minju not being early isn't a surprise, but Chaewon being here before the time? She must have hurried.

"I told her to be here, 8pm flat," Yujin murmurs and fiddles with the collar of your shirt. You grab her wrists and look at her somewhat intensely.

"Try calling her. Hurry."

"Yujin! Where are you?" Chaewon calls again, then her voice cracks. "I don't want to play these games, not with this pig around—"

"What pig?" you shout back, making even Yujin shudder as she rushes towards your office to hide and look for a phone. "I do not allow such animals in this house."

You could practically hear Chaewon's face morph into a scowl at your voice. 

"You heard me! You're a pig. I am only doing this because Yujin invited me over!"

"Well then, come on in!" you sarcastically laugh back, making sure to be louder than her, to urge her not only to walk further into the trap, but also to raise her voice at you.

“Fuck you," Chaewon hisses and enters the living room. In the flickering light of your fireplace you see her hatred filled eyes stare at you. God, she tries so hard to kill you with just that look, but it's all futile. 

The white dress makes her look like an angel, a sweaty angel that has the fabric stuck to her small body. Her hair is a mess, her faint makeup is a mess, now her voice is a mess mess mess.

"Fuck you, where, where is she?"

"Oh," you mock her with a pout and reach for a glass of wine on a side table. "Your voice... you should drink something, hm?"

Suddenly, Yujin bursts into the room. Chaewon's features turn from gloomy to delighted, but just as quickly she just looks lost and, judging by the light pink hue on her round cheeks, horny. 

"She'll be here in a minute, Daddy," Yujin purrs and grabs the glass from your fingers. "Hi, Chaewon. Nice to see you~"

“Minju is a part of this too?" Chaewon asks. 

You ignore her and continue on. 

"I must admit, you do look quite stunning in that outfit. It's a pretty dress." 

"I'm not here for you to gawk at." 

"Hmm. No, I think it's quite the opposite." 

You turn your attention back to Yujin and motion for her to sit back on your lap and give you a sultry searing kiss. As she does, you fixate your eyes for one second on Chaewon. Oh, she is gawking. She is so focused on it, the way Yujin's bountiful curves melt into you, how willingly she becomes your good little baby girl, to be played with. You can hear her gulp and the revealing dress becoming too warm.

"Daddy, your tongue," Yujin quietly moans, trying to get more from you, but your ears have already picked it up: the arrival of Minju, hectic and clumsy as per usual. The front door crashes open, it hits the wall and almost comes back to haunt the poor girl.

"I-I'm here—Chaewon-unnie!?"

"Minmin, look at who I personally invited over,” you boast from your couch and take a final sip of wine. “You're right on time, but try to be early in the future." 

"Yes, Daddy! Oh, I want to kiss you too, Daddy..." Minju says with longing, seeing Yujin on your lap.

“No, Minju, don't," Chaewon barely crooks out past her dry lips, her gentle red lipstick almost peeling off of it. She uses the remnants of her energy to put both a foot and an arm in the large door frame, but it won't be enough. Her blockade is too small, Minju could still get past it. 

In desperation, Chaewon resorts to other means. She grabs her taller friend and with a knee between her legs pins her against the door frame. Minju yelps, her own hands trying to avert the attack.

"Please don't go to him! Stay here, stay w-with m-m-me..."

Endearing, it makes you feel like the heartless animal Chaewon probably envisions you being. A pig, greedy for only the most beautiful, submissive, willing girls, never stopping. No, Yujin isn't enough, perfection isn't enough. You need Minju, on you—but there is something even more fun right now.

"On second thought," you say in the general direction of the two, Yujin's saliva still fresh on your tongue, her soft fingers on your cheekbones. "Don't kiss me, Minju. Go kiss her. Kiss her now, right on the lips."

"Wha—" Chaewon stops to breathe.

"O-okay, Daddy."

Suddenly, the roles are reversed. The hands that pressed, the knee that pinned, the eyes that begged; the dynamic falters. Chaewon, only wanting Minju to look at her, can't bear the adorable, loving features coming closer, the puckered lips, oh they look so soft…

"Minmin, time to put your training to use. Make Chaewon feel good," you say gently as Yujin keeps kissing your neck. You watch the show unfold before you.

First a peck. Simple, disarming. Chaewon's weak arms bend more and more, she can't keep her friend away. Of course she wants this, but you cannot be the one in control of it. Feel adrenaline rush through your body as Chaewon caves in, nothing compared to Minju's unstoppable approach.

Secondly, the tongue. Minju's prise open her Unnie's lips and you hear, see, even feel her squirm and willingly lose the battle when Minju wraps her arms around her waist. Chaewon becomes one with the doorframe, seemingly one with Minju when their legs brush and tongues twirl like greedy tornados. Chaewon even follows Minju, when she backs off a bit and disconnects their lips—just to adjust her hair, smile brightly with her huge blush and dive back in.

You turn to Yujin in disbelief.

"How—since when is she so good? Our little Minmin..."

"We trained her well, I guess~" Yujin smiles lewdly, another torrent of sloppy kisses.

"You lewd slut. Get me out of these clothes."

"Of course, Daddy."

"Also..."

"Yes, Daddy?"

"You're still the best kisser, Yujin."

She smiles from ear to ear, her hand already popping open your buttons and belt.

"Thank you."

You allow Minju to keep pleasuring a little longer Chaewon, to bring the elder to the brink of bliss. Like the test ride of a new sports car, Chaewon gets to feel every extraordinary, expensive curve and benefit of what she can never have. Not when you’re still pulling the strings.

"Minju, you're such a good kisser," Chaewon says softly. 

"Daddy's been teaching me well and—" 

"That's enough Minmin,” you call her and consequently bring Chaewon down from cloud nine. “Come here." 

Minju merely nods and without a care in the world, she moves over to you as you plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. Chaewon’s hands tremble as if she’s feeling the withdrawal of a drug.

"Daddy, did I do well?" Minju gleefully asks.

"Yes you did, baby girl." 

"What the hell?" Chaewon's eyes glaring daggers. 

"Oh. Did you think Minju was into you? That she was enjoying it? Why don't you tell Chaewon the truth." You command Minju.

"Unnie, I," Minju hesitates, her stammer only interrupted by Yujin slurping on your cock and drowning it in her drool. "I like you but... you are not a g-good kisser. I liked yo-your fingers but Daddy and Yujin are—"

"No! They are using you!" 

Chaewon has lost her voice, tears spark in her orbs as she reaches for her throat. She wants to shout at you, scream her love back at Minju, but it hurts. It's not coming out.

"Minju," you groan, your voice teasing. "Why are you still wearing clothes?"

"Oh, sorry Daddy. I'll lose them asap."

"Very good. And then you can get your prize."

In the flash of an eye, Minju is naked, her clothes spread all over a tearful Chaewon and a cockhungry Yujin, who you quickly guide next to you on the couch.

"I give you a choice," you tell your girlfriend. "You can masturbate while watching us or you can try to keep your hands off your body and then I'll fuck you the whole night. Your call."

Yujin's eyebrows furrow. It's rare for her to not touch herself when naked on any occasion, but around you and her hot former bandmates and all the sex that's about to happen, it is close to impossible.

You don't think about her for another second. Minju finds her way on your lap, your stiff, lubed up rod in her always curious hands. Grab her by the waist and spin her around so she faces Chaewon. A disappointed moan.

"But I can't kiss Daddy like this."

"Just turn your head to the side, Minmin. I can kiss you from every angle. Now spread your legs and show her how I fuck y—"

"No, I don't—"

You interrupt Chaewon by spitting at her pathetic figure kneeling on the ground. Her nerves must have been broken; confusion, anger and never before felt horniness all wrestle for control in her delicate body while she can barely speak.

"You know what you need to do," you growl and push your cock upwards into Minju who desperately searches for your lips as groans escape her own. "But just watch, I guess."

You begin to pump into Minju and kiss her with pure lust and dominance. Her entire being submits to you, becomes obedient and willing to take your cock faster, harder, deeper—you know the drill and so does she. Minju’s lips have an addictive taste, it might stem from Chaewon, whose sweet loss you can (metaphorically, of course) nibble from her friend.

"Minmin, you know Chaewon loves you right? Like loooves you? How do you feel about that? Do you think you can ever love her back the same way?" 

"Yujin… make him stop..." Chaewon all but cries out.

Yujin however is in her own world. Her struggle is real, no matter how deep she digs her nails into the couch, they try to sneak back and touch her needy spots. The three aroused nubs, her clenching pussy, hell, her entire body has become an erogenous zone at this point. She reaches for some of Minju's clothes to maybe tie herself up, but all she finds are panties, stained with love juice and perfectly smelly.

Chaewon looks back at you as you ravage her friend. Your thrusts go harder, your grip on Minju's hips and tits gets tighter, your tongue licks faster—has it always been this close? Chaewon wonders, her eyelids flickering.

His cock is... right there. Oh God, she is taking it so well, Minju's pussy looks so good, so stretched... and her midriff is so smooth.

"I-I," Minju's screams get Chaewon out of her dream. "I loved Unnie! Her fingers, her lips, but... she has not been th-there for mee—

"Ah, Daddy, I'm cumming!"

In the midst of her climax, you pinch Minju's nipples and bite her ear. Your cock stretching her to the max, you ask:

"What do you love? Say it!"

"Daddy's cock! Daddy's cock is the best."

"I'll do it." Chaewon unzips her dress, face pale and blank, voice fragile and pleading. "I'll fuck you. Please."

"And then?" you respond, a babbling Minju unceremoniously dropped onto a still restraining Yujin, who shrieks at the touch of hot skin, sweat and saliva on her own scorching body.

"I—what more do you want?" Chaewon asks shakily. 

"You don't get it do you? I don't care if you fuck me or not. I don't need you. No. I want you to beg for it. I want you to realize whose fucking house you're in right now. Your Yujin is mine. And your Minju? She won't ever love you unless I give her permission. So first, you're going to apologize to me. You're going to get on the floor and beg me for forgiveness and then you're going to beg for my perfect fucking cock, Kim Chae-won."

Chaewon, struck by lightning, hesitates to respond. Whatever sentence her brain is scrambling to create, it's not a worthwhile response. In fact, nothing is. She is a puddle, absolutely destroyed by your authority, her every weakness now used against her.

All that can work now is taking action. Fighting back, literally.

In a single motion, Chaewon rises from the ground and the ashes of her dignity like a phoenix, digs her fingers into your jaw and pounces on your lap. There is a new fire in her eyes, blue flames of frustrated rage that show that she is indeed no celestial, but a woman filled with vengeance.

Panties pulled to the side, she guides your cock behind the curtains of her short dress and like a magician makes it disappear in her tight entrance. Feel that she is a lot wetter than last time right from the get go; her pain resistance due to your size seems to have risen as well.

What can you do in the face of this power, this unbridled will, her hips that smash down on you with the force of a falling anvil, the pointy ends of her nails in the skin of your cheeks, piercing like arrows, her hateful moans of victory? Chaewon will fuck you senseless, squeeze out every word of a long apology and show Minju that serving you is a waste of time. You're a pig after all.

At least that's what you make her believe.

Your face twists into a smile. 

"A whore who can't control her urges. Who is the pig now? C’mon then, fuck it out of me, if you think you can! I'll tell you what: If you make me cum before I make you cum, I'll release Minju back to you. You'll both be free to go and I'll never bother you again. 

"You're sick,” Chaewon hisses back. “I want Yujin free too." 

Yujin looks at you for a moment, wondering if you would really give her away like that, fingers on Minju’s body to distract her from the juices leaking out of her pussy.

"Listen here," you viciously whisper and pull away Chaewon's hand which bothers your face. "Try to get some leverage in this position, before making absurd demands. As of now, you have nothing on me."

"I-I'm on top," Chaewon moans, continuing to bounce on your cock.

"It means nothing. I can easily make you cum like this. I can also make you cum by folding you in half and pressing you into the couch or picking you up like a human fleshlight or... fuck, I could order your friends here to force a hundred orgasms out of you, all before you can even think of satisfying me.

"Do you understand, Chaewon? Earn yourself the spot above me, because right now, you're nothing but a toy."

Chaewon's face contorts in pleasure and embarrassment. She can't let these insults get to her, but at the same time, she gets off to them. Her pussy clenches around your cock, needily sucking it back in, wanting it to fuck upwards and claim every inch of her hot, velvety insides.

"At least your body is honest." You smirk.

"Wh-what—ah, no!"

You get a hold of Chaewon's hips, her dress spilling out of your hands as you hold her steady and thrust into her. Unlike before, you make sure to give her every inch every time. Chaewon's eyes roll up in her head, then down to your body, easily overpowering hers from below. Her voice breaks at every moan and scream, and she can't bear the sight of her friends, who look on closely. 

Their Unnie is becoming stupid for this cock.

Minju pouts sadly. 

"Chaewon-unnie, you should enjoy it. Daddy's perfect cock...it's the most special thing," Minju mumbles, drool in the corner of her pretty mouth.

"Unnie, maybe you should apologize to Daddy. He'll make you feel good," Yujin says sincerely.

"N-never! I-I will n-not—"

All it takes is you swiping her clit, found under her dress. The tiny bundle of nerves had it coming and now the fearless leader is cumming on your cock. However, it is not this grand, cathartic orgasm for her, just a demonstration of your power. Frankly, this is what you think Chaeeon deserves: A pleasureless loss, pathetic for the woman she wants to be. So much on the line, yet she did not even come close to achieving her goal.

In a well-timed outburst of your horny rage, you pull out of her and throw her on the couch. Giving Yujin a teasing brush on her flexed thigh and then a kiss because she needs to hold out just a little bit longer, you then focus on Minju.

"Get on top of Chaewon," you order. "I'm gonna fill you in Doggy for being a good girl."

"Thank you, Daddy," Minju excitedly says and once again traps Chaewon with her body.

You push inside Minju's sweet pussy and tug at her hair. 

"Minju, how would you feel if I bred you tonight? How badly do you want to be bred?" 

Yujin almost became distraught, before remembering her place and knowing this was a part of your plan. You wanted to show Chaewon what was truly yours. 

"Daddy… I don't know if I'm ready to raise a child, but I want to carry yours so badly," Minju whispers and looks right through Chaewon’s hazelnut eyes. 

Perfect. You would fuck Minju, break her while Chaewon would be right below her, helpless to watch as you filled Minju with your seed. 

"I want you to tell Chaewon the truth,” you tell Minju and caress her smooth back before pushing it a bit closer to Chaewon. “Then you can be filled to the brim."

"I want Daddy! I want his Daddy cock and his Daddy seed deep in my pussy! I want him to breed Minju every day!"

Minju has never clenched harder around your dick than at this moment. It's not a hyperbole, because for the first time you find it irresistible to not cum in another pussy that isn't your girlfriends'. This moment right here, this impeccable, cruel set up is Minju has finally becoming ethereal truth and beauty: on all fours, drooling on her former lover's face, sweat pouring out everywhere, nothing can fill her heart like you.

Fill her, you do. The way to Minju’s heart is through her desperate, empty pussy—try to rephrase that at a different time, because now, it’s quite befitting. The breedable girl won’t be able to keep herself upright for long, that’s the measurement of power for how hard your thrusts are. You don’t really want her to anyways. She is allowed to freely fall on top of Chaewon, who constantly fails to close her eyes to Minju’s face.

A face of desire, of pleasure; a tongue hanging out, hoping to suck the same cock that’s rearranging her insides—also something that should be rephrased. One day, but not today. Today you give Minju loving spanks for being the good, rod-taking girl that you and Yujin envisioned her to be. After the fifth slap, her legs go weak first, her midriff meets Chaewon’s, but her pussy still sucks you back in. Minju is thirsty.

Thirsty for cum, and you give it to her greedy pussy that wrings you viciously. Minju is a vacuum, getting your balls dry and although you make sure everything is dumped deep inside her cavern, huge amounts still drip out of her and onto Chaewon, who shrieks at every impact of cum on her skin.

You're still dreamy, Minju's deep breaths are the only thing audible to you, her ass the only thing in your line of view. It seems you forgot something, a promise you have made.

"D-Daddy!" Yujin calls for you and shakes your shoulders violently. "I haven't touched myself, please, please, please fuck me now! I'm a good slut, use me, fill me, I need your cock."

You turn towards her. This poor girl is standing there, shivering, her wrists awkwardly turned to prevent her from touching her already squeezing pussy. In a moment of thrill for you and catharsis for her, you grab Yujin's hand and pull her into your bedroom. The door shuts and moments later, Chaewon and Minju hear their Dongsaeng cum, loud and proud.

"Yujinie is—" Minju whispers, wanting to start a conversation, but Chaewon interrupts her. 

"A-are you really going to be pregnant?" Chaewon quietly cries out, tears and snort on her face. Minju props herself up and smiles down at her dear friend.

"To be honest," she starts and blushes. "No, I'm protected. But it feels so good, so right to say it."

"Th-that is fucked up, Minmin," Chaewon whimpers.

"Unnie, sex can be so much fun. Here, put your finger in me, like you used to! He feels so warm, and there is so much."

Minju guides Chaewon's fingers to her freshly fucked, leaking entrance and although she hesitates for a bit, Chaewon starts to finger more and more cream out of her friends cunt. Minju softly moans and they both watch a downpour of white fall on Chaewon’s navel in the middle of August. 

"I was unsure at first too," Minju continues and cups Chaewon's face. "But it can feel so good, the best feeling ever. I won't leave that. 

"I still love you, though. We all do. Yujin and Eunbi-unnie and Hyewo—"

"What do you me—oh my God."

Suddenly, Minju kisses the beyond shocked Chaewon before the latter loses her mind to the most absurd scenario that is imaginable but also so immoral, it should not be. Instead Chaewon melts into Minju's lips and decides to stay quiet. She could never be part of such a fucked up game, it’s just wrong, filthy, absolutely disgusting. He is such a pig!

"Unnie, come here more often. Daddy can be so soft, he will train you, you will be better at sex and one day, he will cum in you and you will love it.

Minju, you are out of your mind… but what if—

"Trust me~"

#

The luxury of getting up at 11am and still making more money than most people do in their life time should be appreciated by you, but instead you whine over the fact that after three more rounds with Yujin after the initial, massive filling of Minju and eight hours of sleep, you have to get back to ruling your business empire. 

That's when you find the envelope Yujin brought yesterday. You finish a boring phone call and pick it up, still very much unsure of what the round thing inside it is. Tear it open and a letter slips right out—along with a cute little collar. Intrigued you begin to read while you pick up the round object.

Dear you,

yes, you. Yujin told me that you exist. You're her boyfriend and although she doesn't talk about you often, I can tell she really loves you. You seem like a very wise person, especially when you can get along with Yujin.

I wanted to ask you something: could we maybe chat a little? Talk face to face? I know it's a weird request, but I kinda want someone to talk to right now. I feel I can trust you, more than other people around me. If you can keep your relationship with Yujin a secret, this will be easy-peasy, right?

Feel free to talk with Yujin about this first, but you both keep quiet! I don't want the others to be worried.

Thank you very muchie!

Signed

Yena, meow

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well!! I read in one of your previous posts that things were a little hard right now. I hope they get better soon, if they haven’t already!

I wanted to ask about your TF141 mer au:

Do the shark mers like Soap, Price and Gaz go into tonic immobility if they get flipped upside down?

Cuz you mentioned they might beef with orcas from time to time, and that’s how orcas often kill great whites: they turn them upside down and hold them like that so they can’t fight back. This paper discusses the strategies used by killer whales to hunt great white sharks that have been observed in South Africa (TW: for pretty lengthy description of killer whales hunting sharks, as well as some slightly graphic descriptions of how the orcas ate the sharks). They also talk about strategies the sharks used to get away from the orcas being similar to how the sharks’ normal prey, seals and sea turtles, try to evade them! Which might mean the sharks are learning how to escape orcas based off how their prey escape them! And they hint in the conclusions that the hunting of sharks might even be a culturally transmitted thing from parent orcas to their calves! Which is insanely cool!! It’s a bit dry because it is a scientific paper, but definitely worth reading, if you’re interested!

But back to the point: If they do go into tonic immobility when flipped upside-down, how do they handle that in the case of dangerous creatures/divers doing that to them? I hope the guys are staying safe out there 😰

(Also, ps. Tonic immobility is theorized to be a sex thing, since sex underwater is hard. So I dunno if you wanna integrate that into your kinky headcannons about the shark mers :) )

yes, thank you!! wild. i have indeed been looking for ways to write in other types of mer, especially orcas. the problem is orcas are way, way overpowered in real life. even the ones that don't kill great whites for their livers are big enough to eviscerate anything that looks at them funny and smart enough to (as you mention) to develop these unique ways of hunting down prey. like… how do you introduce someone based on that without breaking the whole dang worldbuilding structure?

and the study, especially this bit--

In one case, a killer whale attempted to roll and invert a white shark into a position that would result in tonic immobility (Henningsen, 1994; Pyle et al., 1999) before biting into its abdomen just behind the pectoral fins.

so yeah. this particular group of orcas 1) noticed sharks are vulnerable to tonic immobility, and 2) weaponized that vulnerability to basically hypnotize, kill, and butcher them. and those orcas do so with this, like, insane technical precision. they know exactly where to tear into the great whites to reach their livers. iirc, they don't even eat the other parts of the shark--just the liver. all that murder just for a decadent lil treat <3

but yeah! tonic immobility. the idea of building that into a kink thing for the mer 141 is. hmm. phenomenal actually. people apparently speculate that tonic immobility puts a shark into a calm or rapturous/ecstatic (!) state of mind.

like…. cmon...... hypnosis kink.

imagine knowing how to drop any one of the 141 into subspace. you'd have a pod of horny monster men at your beck and call to bottom for you whenever you feel like it ;) shark sex isn't easy! there's teeth and claws and rutting and tail-winding and so much biting. if you knew how to turn any one of them into easygoing submissive mers instead of bitey aggressive doms, who would blame you for flipping that switch occasionally?? as long as you do with them what you want to do before that 15-minute window of tonic immobility trance time is up, of course, and they regain their senses. then all bets are off.

that would need to be a closely guarded secret indeed ( *︾▽︾)

(mer au tag)

[realcube]

NEED you to write more for kiyoomi i am BEGGING

SEA STONE ☽｡⋆

synopsis ☀ you're at the beach with sakusa and play a little prank on him!

tags/tws ☀ omi being sassy smh, mentions of drowning, sappyyyy, timeskip but sfw, maybe ooc idk & fluff

wc ☀ 1.4k

you ask sakusa to go to the beach with you and he agrees. it's that simple.

had atsumu or hinata witnessed that, they'd likely think you used some sort of black magic on him or a mind control spell. and in a way, you do have him in an — almost supernatural — trance. he's utterly bewitched by you.

so if going to beach is what it took to see even a glimpse of that pretty smile of yours, it was infinitely worth. although, as one may imagine, he's not a big fan of the beach. sand clinging to body, blistering heat beating down on him, limited space packed with sweaty bodies, amateaur volleyball; it's all just very unpleasant.

but he finds a way to deal with it. he rolls out his towel and umbrella, to protect him from the sun, and settles down with a good book. though he's only partially reading it, he's mostly watching you frolic through the water and mess around with the damp sand. you were so playful and fun, it enchanted him. occasionally you'd run back up to where he is to plant a kiss on his cheek or ask him to reapply sunscreen on your back, that was his favourite part.

you understood sakusa's adversity to the ocean — there's definitely some gross stuff in there — but you just loved swimming too much. gliding through the cool water, the seaweed tickling your skin and waves crashing gently against you. it's a once-in-a-year experience that you had to enjoy, but if sakusa didn't want to do it with you, that was alright, it was already sweet enough that he agreed to come with you. although he never outright said he didn't want to swim, you got that impression from the fact he was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and matching trousers.

eventually, the sun began to cast an orange glow as it slowly set over the horizon, and many people had packed their things and left by now, so you figure it's about time you and sakusa do the same. as you're walking back towards him, you feel your ring slip off your finger a bit, but you promptly push it back on.

that is, until you have an idea.

a harmless prank, really. you take your ring off and slip it under the material of your top, then you rush over to sakusa with a frantic expression, to which he looks up with immediate concern.

" 'omi! i think i lost my ring in the ocean and i'm not sure what to do! i swear i had it on me when i came over here the las—"

sakusa hastily places his book down and stands up, resting a hand upon your wet shoulder and quickly interjecting, "don't worry, (y/n). we'll find it."

you nod while clutching your hand, your look downwards, which he assumes is out of shame but really you are trying to hide the evil smirk creeping onto your face.

"do you think it may be in the sand?" he asks, collecting the towel off of the ground to wrap up your poor, trembling figure.

you shake your head, "no, it probably slipped off while i was swimming."

sakusa sighs out of his nose. that is exactly what he didn't want to hear. "alright, honey." without another word, he relucantly starts making his way over to the shore, with you following suit.

just as he reaches it, he bites his lip, standing right before where the sea meets the sand, watching intently as the water spills forward against his toes. you stand behind him, snug in the towel, and prompt, "are we gonna look?"

he looks at you over his shoulder, with a dull glint in his eyes. the ocean is just so disgusting, filled with all sorts of creatures, and he loathed getting wet, it was such an annoyance. but seeing your sweet face, knowing your longing for something, what kind of husband would he be if he didn't at least try to help? he'd do anything to stop you from being sad. though he did momentarily consider perhaps just buying another ring.

without any further delay, sakusa puffed out his chest and rolled up his trousers to his knees and hesitantly stepped into the ocean, cringing at the feeling of sand between his toes. the contaminated water making contact with his pristine white trousers also killed him a little, but it's all worth it for you, to see that smile.

speaking off which, once he was knees-deep, he turned around to look and furrowed his brows when he noticed you hadn't entered yet, "(y/n). aren't you going to look with me?"

you shake your head, wearing a cheesy grin on your face that only confuses him more. "it's okay, kiyoomi. i was only kidding about my ring being lost. look, here it is." you pull it out from it's hiding place and slip it back onto your finger, "i just wanted to see if you would get into the water and help me look for it."

sakusa sighed, again. ususally something like this would piss him off, but you only amused him. "of course i would, (y/n). i'd do anything for you, i thought you knew that."

you blush a tad at your husband's kind words, then motion for him to come out of the water. "you're the best, omi. but you can get out of the water now."

he blinks, looking down at his feet sunk into the sand, "this isn't as bad as i thought. maybe next time we c—"

"no, seriously, omi, get out!—" you try to leap forward and grab his hand to pull him out but it's too late. the big wave you had seen rushing towards you came with such speed and ferocity that it knocked sakusa right off his feet, leading to him falling back into the water.

thankfully, you are able to grab his arm in time to help him upright again, so he isn't submerged for too long. and although some may say you just saved his life, he doesn't look awfully impressed with you after he gasps for air and wipes the salt water away from his eyes, with a single seaweed draped over his shoulder like a very ugly shawl.

fully soaked now, he grits, "let's just go."

rather unbothered by the tide, considering you were already wet from swimming, you nod sympathetically and lock arms with your boyfriend, guiding him back to your stuff while trying your best not to burst out laughing, "good idea."

he huffs and tosses a strand of dripping hair away from his face, "seems like i'm the only one who has those anymore."

"you've been spending too much time with atsumu. his attitude has really rubbed off on you." you titter, gathering all your stuff, "or maybe that wave knocked all the sense out of you."

"that might be true. the ocean does make people stupider, clearly." sakusa raises his eyebrows, watching you take all the stuff while stands with his arms crossed.

"oh wow, maybe i should've left you out there for longer. maybe instead of my ring, you could've found yourself some manners." you throw the blanket at him, since he isn't holding anything, which he catches frantically.

"you're ring wasn't even there to begin with." he turns around to look at the ocean, catch off-guard by how gorgeous it look in the sunset.

"and neither were your manners!" you retort, glancing at him to see his reaction, only to find him staring off into the distance. you follow his gaze and gasp slightly at the ethereal sight.

it's sobering, watching the golden sun lower over the ocean, casting a hue pink and orange over the sparkling water. the perfect end to the perfect day. it made you wonder if you'd ever see something so beautiful ever again, though that's not a thought you shared with sakusa, as he knew he'd wake up next to you tomorrow.

he gulped and turned to you, and you beamed at him, instantly leaping into his arms. he stumbled a little but quickly found his balance and held you against him, close.

"thank you for coming with me today, 'omi. i had so much fun."

he smiled against your damp hair, and kisses your jaw, "you don't need to thank me. going anywhere with you is always my pleasure." his hands run down your arm until they find yours, and they graze the back of your fingers, brushing over your glittering ring, "because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."