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liliacamethyst · 10 months

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Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know, I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.”

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

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sombrashe · 4 months

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using cute little clips to keep carlos' hair pulled back so you can trace the outlines of his facial features 🥰

#resident evil #carlos oliveira #nea speaks

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mrsoverbeck · 2 years

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So David King is canonically Gay now. Can anyone tell me if he’s really just homosexual or another orientation? I’m legit confused which way they meant it.

#david king #dead by daylight #nea speaks

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queen-breha-organa · 1 year

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I want to talk a little bit about Hawai‘i, because I have been thinking a lot about my people, and our lives.

The year 2023 marks 130 years since the illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom.

On January 17th 1893, American businessman used their connections and military influence to dethrone Queen Liliuokalani by threat of force.

This annexation still impacts my people 130 years later. It still hurts us, it still haunts us,

For the last 130 years my people have suffered under America’s cruelty and indifference.

Unsustainable Tourism haunts us, causing a cost of living crisis, which turns into a rise in poverty, which turns into a rise in individuals experiencing homelessness. This cost crisis disproportionately effects my people, Kānaka Maoli. We cannot even afford to live on our on land. Our ancestral home.

And in turn, tourism then provides the most jobs. This industry pushes us off our land and into poverty, and then it turns around and sells us back our culture as a walking joke.

Our very identity is turned into entertainment. Our very culture is turned into entertainment.

And many of my people have no choice but to sell their culture so they can eat, so they can survive.

We have been put in a never ending cycle of misery and cultural destruction.

In addition, Military Involvement on our islands causes repeated incidents of ecological violence, and land disputes. The military take claim to land that belongs to my people, and they spill chemicals over and over, and poison the water we drink.

My people are suffering. Our culture is suffering.

And everyday more tourists come. Everyday more land is taken to build hotels. Everyday more culture is stripped and bastardized. Everyday more land is taken for military use.

I’m so tired of living this way. I’m so tired of waking up and watching the slow and agonizing death of my people.

I want us to live. I want us to thrive.

I want my people to survive.

I want to survive.

So please read up on the current issues that face Kānaka Maoli. Please educate yourself on my people’s history and current affairs.

Speak up and speak out. Talk about unsustainable tourism, and speak up about how harmful a “vacation” to Hawai‘i can be. Talk about the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom, and it’s injustice.

Hawai‘i is Hawaiians. Hawai‘i is our history. Hawai‘i is our home. Hawai‘i is the very blood that runs through our veins.

So please do not forget us, and please speak up with us.

Support Hawaiian Sovereignty. Restore Hawai‘i to Hawaiians.

Resources & Education:

#I’ve just got a lot on my mind #and I’m so tired #I’m so sick and tired #okay to reblog

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senseichaos · 2 months

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VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

I'm crazy, but so are you,

I'm crazy, but you are too

Summary: Alastor surprises you with a Valentine's gift, causing you both to find out things about each other that would bring you closer than ever before

Genre: Romance, Angst

Warnings: Sexual themes, Angst, hurt slight comfort, psychopathic Alastor, implied sadism, self deprecation, talk of murder, let me know if you see any more!

NOT PROOF READ (YET)

Let me know your thoughts!

(tried to do my iconic 3 image banner but tumblr's formatting broke so it didn't work..)

"My fawn, I have a surprise for you!"

You look up from your book, face lighting up as you place the book onto the couch next to you. Currently you were just reading a book in the hotel lobby, mostly alone in the area save for husk cleaning the bar as usual. Niffty is currently fixing some windows that had been broken, Sir Pentious is in his room doing god knows what, Vaggie and Charlie are out getting dinner, and Angel is at work. Which leaves you.

"Hm? Really?!" You ask, not expecting a gesture from Alastor on Valentine's day. Alastor grins, reaching his hand out for you to take which you do politely. In an unexpected movement Alastor pulls you lightly so you come close to him, placing a hand onto the small of your back as he gives you a proud gaze.

"Yes my fawn, it's valentines day is it not? Come,"

Alastor leads you up the stairs, taking you to his room one one of the higher floors of the hotel. This is all a surprise to you, really. You'd never expected Alastor to get you something for Valentine's! Let alone a surprise. You can't hold that excitement inside of you at the fact that Alastor is going to surprise you with something! You practically buzz with excitement when Alastor leads you down the hall, looking up at him as you fiddle with the side of his overcoat.

"What is it, what is it!!" You ask with excitement, bouncing on your feet as Alastor settles in front of the door to his room, not yet opening it. Alastor laughs, adjusting his monocle and shaking his head.

"Patience, dear! Have I taught you nothing?" He utters with a grin, fixing his coat after you had meddled with it.

"I'm allowed to be excited Alastor!" You pout, folding your arms as Alastor rests his hand against the wall. He gives you a humorous gaze, laughing at your words with a grin.

"You are, fawn. But there is a difference between patience and greed~" He purrs, pressing hks microphone to your chin, tilting it up a tad; scowling at this action, you grab the top of his microphone and push it back to his chest. Alastor's lower lids rise.

"I am not greedy! You've never surprised me before..." You frown, looking at the ground beneath you. It wasn't wrong, at least you don't think. Alastor has never really given you a huge surprise like this before.

Alastor takes a step forward, hooking his finger beneath the leather of your collar.

"Now that is a lie. I surprised you just last week with this beautiful collar," Alastor speaks, pulling his finger away from your neck, dragging his claw down the column of your throat as he goes. You can't help but lean into that brief touch, flicking your eyes back into his as he stares at you with an odd adoration.

"I guess that's true.." You mutter, itching the side of your neck as you take your eyes from his own again. You instead look at the wall, focusing on the deteriorating wallpaper. Though you feel Alastor's claw press against your jaw, tilting your face back towards his own

"You guess? But it is true, my dear. I think you forget that I love you just as you love me," He says lowly, leaning in closer to your own smaller, meeker figure. You can't help but shrink backwards, feeling that odd fear buzz through your cold sinner veins.

"Do you really?" You ask, eyes blown as you stare. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and pulling away, leaving your skin burning on the area he kissed. Alastor quickly and deftly places his fingers onto the the doornob, twisting it with a neat skill. The skill of a man with property, you could describe.

"Hm, does this prove my point?" Alastor asks, pushing you into the room by the tip of his microphone staff.

You gasp, looking at the room. His room has a nice, neatly set table in the middle of his forest backdrop, which has cups of coffee and crumpets on it, along with some of your favorite sweet treats that make you drool to even look at. There's even a beautiful bouquet of dried roses set in the middle just near the edge of the table, meaning you can see Alastor completely when you eat.

"Oh my gosh! Alastor, this is.." You clasp your hands over your mouth, tears welling up in your vision as your heart swells from the pure kindness of the action. You watch as Alastor waltzes in front of you, prideful of his actions.

"And you say I don't know you.. I have your favorite music, your favorite food, your favorite drinks anddd" Alastor outstretched his hand, standing in front of the table completely with that grin of his that makes you melt. "Your favorite radio demon~!" He sing songs, causing you to laugh, running up to him and hugging yourself into his arms.

Though often you don't hug Alastor, but it's in these moments where he welcomes it that you value. He always hugs you warmly, as if his whole body is enveloping you in a swaddle. You feel small in his arms, almost like a baby.

You nuzzle yourself into his chest mumbling:

"Oh thank you Alastor this is so.. thoughtful. I didn't think you were capable of such a thing," You giggle, looking up at him with teary eyes as those butterflies swarm inside of you. That way he looks at you is so soft, before he laughs, tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling very lightly.

"Now don't ruin the moment, my fawn. It impolite," Alastor chastises, giving you that sadistic look that makes you fall to your knees and take what's given. Those dark eyes, that tight grip, that sharp smile, those piercing teeth. You bite your lower lip, laughing with a flustered blush as you push his hand away.

"Sorry Al' I just.. this is incredible! I'm so excited! I can hardly hold in my squeals," You squeak, jumping very slightly on your toes. Chuckling, Alastor folds his hands behind his back, though not before resting his staff at the side of the table. "Squeal all you want, my dear! You make a lot of noise anyway," He says with a lascivious smirk, leaning down to your level just to get a good look of your scowl and humor it as he feels necessary.

"Ew Alastor! I don't wanna squeal anymore.. but- EEEEEEE!" You squeal, flapping your arms with joy as Alastor sits himself down at the table. What you don't expect is for Alastors green magic to circle around your waist, effectively picking you up and placing you on your chair. He ignores your frightened squeak and flinch at this, instead leaning forward and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"C'mon my dear, the coffee should be the perfect temperature!" He utters, nodding his head towards the cup of coffee at your side of the table. You nod, taking a small sip of the sweet coffee. Sweet? That's new. Alastor doesn't like sweet things.. which makes it all more surprising that he's given you sweet things.

"Oh actually! It's not huge but i did get you something," You interrupt your thought, remembering the Valentine's gift you had found on the streets of hell weeks ago. Alastor smiles wider, not expecting you to get him something in return. He feels gratitude that you did, though, not often does he get gifts.

"Hm? You did? How sweet of you, my fawn!" Alastor asks brightly, watching as you twist your body to grab something from your back pocket. What he doesn't expect is for you to pull out a light gray feather, a very slight shimmer against its surface. It almost looks like the feather of an angel with it's heavenly sheen.

"I found it on the street a couple weeks ago whilst on my outing, it's an exorcist feather!" You exclaim, passing it towards him with a proud smile. Taking it in his fingers, he examined it with a soft but peaceful smile, taking in every piece of it before smiling brighter.

"Ooh~ now this is a thoughtful gift!" He says, opening his mouth and placing it into his mouth, tasting it. He slowly drags it out, trailing his tongue around its entirety to taste every part of it. You give him a disgusted look, peering at him through your lashes before pulling it from him. Or at least attempting to, he pulls it away before you have a chance to reach it.

"Ew Alastor don't taste it! You don't know where that's been!" You scold, taking another sio of your coffee. Alastor holds it in his hand, tasting a little bit more of it by placing his red tongue against it kn random spots. You give him an exaggerated gag, causing him to finally pull it away with upturned, happy eyes.

"It's tasty, dear! Is that not part of the gift? A beautiful feather of an angel and the tasty remnants of death! I can't think of anything more delicious~" He pauses, lowering his lids seductively. "Besides from my fawn, of course.." He purrs, causing you to flush before swatting his hands.

"Alastor! That's gross...!" You exclaim, taking an aggressive bite from your (extremely delicious) crumpet. You almost forget that you're supposed to be mad before Alastor's condescending laugh rings in your ears, causing you to look back up at him with down turned brows.

"Oh come on dear, I know you just love it when I'm dirty!" Alastor says with a teasing gaze, before leaning forward and attempting to kiss you. You quickly move your head away, causing him to give you a short peck on the corner of your lips. When he pulls away, he seems proud, almost greedy with his affection.

"You just tasted an exorcist feather and you think I want you to kiss me with the same mouth, ew!" Alastor hums at your words, tilting his head.

"I guess you just don't like the flavour the same way as me," He says, taking a sip of his black coffee. Alastor can't stand sweetness, that's for sure. But it does still surprise you that he has a crumpet and a slice of your favorite cake Infront of him.

"Okay fine.." You sigh, leaning forward to invite Alastor into a kiss. He grins, clasping his hand onto your cheek and leaning forward, purring: "Lovely!"

Finally he presses his lips onto yours, quite literally immediately forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan surprised at this, gagging as he presses his tongue to the back of your throat - definitely on purpose - though you don't pull away. Alastor doesn't kiss you often, and that's a fact. So this moment, despite being uncomfortable with his sadistic ways is still powerful and makes your gut rearrange. The way he digs his claws into the back of your neck, twisting your head slightly so he can kiss you deeper, effectively taking away your breath. But you don't care if he suffocates you. You don't care if he kills you. Right now all you want is for him to continue massaging his lips against your own.

Or that was until he finally pulled away, licking a stray piece of saliva from his lip. You finally snap from your daze, flushing deeply and wiping your wet lips.

"Are you done?" You ask, taking a short sip of your coffee in an attempt to calm your fiery veins down. Alastor chuckles, taking a bite from his crumpet and only slightly flinching from the sweet flavour.

"Yes my dear, a kiss cannot last forever." He says, leaning his head against the back of his hand. Nodding, you bite your lower lip, finding something to say to take your mind from that intense kiss.

"So what are you gonna do with the feather?" You ask rather abruptly, chanting the subject with a swift execution of words. Alastor could detect as such, but he choses not to point it out to save your dignity. Instead he nods, twirling the feather between his fingers before speaking.

"Hmm, I will most likely place it at my bedside." He pauses, grinning and looking back up at you. "What do you plan to do with these hours of fun with yours truly? He asks, taking a neat sip from his black coffee. You can't understand how he drinks the stuff, being so strong and bitter. You can only have it sweet.

"I just want to talk with you, Al'. I don't remember the last time we just got to sit and.." Your words slowly jumble off into nothing's, realizing that you're rambling. Though when you look up into Alastor's eyes he doesn't seem annoyed, hell he even looks as though he's hanging off your every word with deep enjoyment. "Talk." You finish, pointed with your words as they drip from your tongue.

"Really, because I recall sitting down and having tea just last week," Alastor recalls, tapping his chin in mock-thought. You shake your head, taking a long sip from your coffee. "No I mean, I don't remember the last time we did something just for us. Just a moment where it's- just unbridled conversation between lovers for hours.." You utter, twiddling your fingers together as a pang of anxiety hits your gut. You swallow it down, not wishing to show your anxiety to your partner.

"Hm, I guess you are correct with one thing. We haven't done anything just for us in a while," Alastor answers, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at the food in front of him. He seems content, cozy even. You don't often see him at such peace.. and you want him to be at such peace more often- hell you want to be at such peace more often.

"Doesn't it make you sad.. sad that we don't just have time for us?" You ask rather suddenly, looking up at him as he places his feather into his coat pocket. He lowers his lids, tilting his head softly as he speaks with a buttery tone: "Whatever do you mean?" Alastor asks, leaning his cheek on the back of his hand dreamily.

You sigh. "I mean.. doesn't it make you wish we could just be together for hours.. spend a whole day, even! Just us, laying in bed.. dancing to music, having tea.. cooking! Anything.. I just want to feel more connected to you sometimes.." You utter with a soft-spoken tone. Alastor almost seems sympathetic, hell empathetic for a moment. But he isn't, you can tell... But even still he leans forward, that smile across his face as he speaks with such an odd tone.

"Now now, dear. If you wanted a day like this why didn't you just say? Why leave it to the time we are supposed to be laughing and having fun?" Alastor asks, shaking his head softly as he moves his hands as to accentuate his words. You shrink into yourself in realization that all this time you felt a lack of deep connection with him you could have.. told him.

"I-I don't know I guess I just.. I only realize how much I need time like that now, when I have it.." You mumble, rubbing your palm across your eye before picking up the thin fork next to your sweet cake, wishing to take a bite to make you feel less sad. Though Alastor just smiles wider, giving you a soft look with his red intimidating eyes.

"Now why worry about the future when you have what you want right now? I promise you that spending time in the now will make this much more productive and enjoyable," Alastor says with such power, pulling at your strings to make your emotions mold to what he wishes. Though he isn't wrong, even with that later of manipulation with his tone. It is best to let this moment happen without worrying about the future.

"I guess you're right, Alastor." You finally say after a pregnant pause. Alastor chuckles to himself, watching as you take a joyful bite of your cake. After tasting it's sweet flavour you practically buzz with happiness, squeaking to yourself. "Thank you, my fawn."

You finish your happy 'squeeming', laughing softly at Alastor's words. "It wasn't really a compliment, but take it how you will." You say with a shrug, diving into another forkful of the delicious cake.

"You know," Alastor says suddenly, a grin churning on his face. You look up from your cake from big eyes, swallowing your mouthful of cake.

"Hm?"

"I recall this memory from my childhood sometimes when I'm with you, this memory from my childhood that is more pleasant than any other," Alastor begins, looking up at the sky-like roof above in thought and rumination as he speaks. Yet you hang into every word, leaning forward in your chair with such infatuation; You wish you were nestled in your lap to take in every huff of his breath as he tells his story.

"I was sitting beneath this tree reading a book my school had demanded me to read, for a project of some sorts. But the book was actually rather interesting! It spoke of love and loss, and it gave me this odd comfort," Alastor tells, Almost painting a picture with his hands as he describes the story to you. He moves his hands with every word that he annunciates, making everything he says seem even more rich and delightful for your brain as he goes on.

"It was like it was telling me that no matter what I do in my life, one day I will get this feeling again. And now, well now when I'm with you I get that odd feeling of comfort." He finishes, folding his hands in his lap as he watches your dumbfounded expression. He can't help but smirk.

"Alastor.. that's the most you've ever told me about your life on earth." You say with such a grin, kicking your legs in your chair with cheer. Alastor taps his pointer finger against his chin in a thinking moment before shrugging, giving you a sly smile. "Yes, I suppose it is, isn't it?" He asks, those buttery eyes of his low lidded. You bite your lower lip, poking your fork into your cake.

"You aren't lying are you? Please tell me this isn't a joke.." You beg, taking a piece from the cake with your dainty fork. You don't eat it, though, instead holding it at the end of the fork as you speak. "Why would I joke to my love about something like this?" Alastor asks, watching your body as your heart sits tremulous inside of your chest.

You look at the ground "I don't know, this whole thing it just doesn't feel real to me. And this- this childhood memory of yours.. I feel like I'm going to explode with happiness." You finish your sentence with a large almost painful grin, before dropping it down into a rather small smile. Alastor hums, poking his dainty fork into a piece of his own cake.

"Is that not good, my dear?" Alastor asks before taking a bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, he does make a bit of a face and the flavour, but he eats it all the same. You value that in this moment. Not often does he do something that actively makes him uncomfortable for you, so you feel as though he's sacrificing his life right now. You can't help but think of him as sweet for a small moment.

"It is! it's just.. this is the first I've ever heard of your past," You reply, drawing circles on the table with your hand as the other continuing to hold your fork with the piece of cake at the end. Once again you hear Alastor hum in acknowledgement, watching as he gives you a large unreadable grin.

"Would you like to know more about my past, my dear?"

You blink, biting your lower lip as your heart clenches beneath your rib cage.

"Please," You utter with glassy eyes, set on taking in every second of his story. Alastor replies to your enthusiasm with a chuckle, placing his fork down and clasping his hands together as he leans back onto his chair. He begins to speak, a whimsical propriety in his voice.

"Hm, alright then. You do have to understand that my life on earth may not be the most pleasant of lives," Alastor warns, tapping his foot against the grass beneath absentmindedly. You shake your head, dead set on hearing something more about his life as a person."I don't care."

He grins widely, eyes creasing with its largeness."Lovely, now," He begins, talking with such pride you can't help but sink into every word. "I remember this time, I was I think around my early twenties when I killed my first victim-" You interrupt with wide eyes and a tap of your finger against the table.

"Woah woah woah, why are you staring out with this?" You ask. You completely didn't expect Alastor to start out with his murder. You know that he was a cereal killer as a man, that is for sure- but you didn't expect him to tell you about it.

"Listen my dear, it's impolite to interrupt." Alastor chastises, brows high and nonchalant. You bite your lip, shrinking backwards into your seat. "Sorry Allie."

Alastor's smile grows. "Hm. I had killed this victim in the dead of night, it was an act of self defense I do admit. But, that feeling I got was like no other when his lifeless body laid dormant at my feet," Alastor describes, picking up his staff that he laid at the side of the table. Looking at the staff, Alastor drags his hand against its handle, his eyes dark and reminiscent, almost longing.

"I had this system after that. I would kill one person, eat them, and bury their bones in the forest behind my house. I was very good at giving no trace of myself, to the point where my killing became news that I had to cover on my radio show! How comical is that, hm?" Alastor suddenly perks up, laughing to himself as he finishes talking. He takes a sip of his coffee, one hand places against his staff as he watches you laugh awkwardly.

"I mean you are killing people, so not extremely comical." Alastor laughs again at this, swatting his hand in your direction. You finally take a bite of the cake on your fork, eyes pointed at Alastor as you do so in a judging fashion.

"Oh don't worry about that my dear, I promise if you were alive in my time I wouldn't have killed you. You most likely would have become my wife," His voice lowers as he speaks becoming flirtatious with his tone. At his words anxiety pools at your stomach, causing your skin to ripple into goosebumps; And yet you can't help but crave for more.

"In my life on earth I wouldn't have dated a cereal killer.. " You mumble, looking at the grass below as the goosebumps on your skin begin to fade with that fleeting adrenaline filling fear. But when you look back into those eyes of his, it comes back with a harsh waft. Those dark eyes, they send you into a trance.

"Well what are you doing now then?" He asks, leaning forward on the table with a sly gaze.

"..dating a cereal killer..." You utter guiltily. Alastor reaches across the table, planting his and against yours intimately. You feel tiny electric shocks of love go through you there, making you smile at his clawed fingers as they lay against your wrist. "Exactly, my fawn. Don't assume things about yourself, especially when it is just plain wrong. What have I done to hurt you?" You laugh at this, pulling down the collar of your shirt to reveal a healed bite mark across your shoulder.

"Exhibit A." You announce with a grin.

"Well that was during sex, darling. I wouldn't count that. And also you liked it," Alastor responds, taking your hand into his own. You shiver, feeling his claws draw a line from the bottom of your wrist to the middle of your palm. "Mhm.. touche! It still hurt.. and felt good.." Your words slowly jumble off into nothing, realizing that Alastor, in fact, has never really hurt you.

"Well then I didn't hurt you did I? I promise you I would never go out of my way to hurt you in a way you wouldn't enjoy," Alastor assures, tapping his claws against the bottom of your wrist as he grins.

"I love you, Alastor. I also really appreciate this cause I know you don't like sweet food but you're still eating this with me." Alastor chuckles, leaning over the table to ruffle your hair in a condescending way.

"Anything for my little fawn, hm? Anything I can do to make you smile is mine to give." Alastor says, pointed with his words. There is a confidence to his words, as well. Not that there isn't always but specifically when he said smile. He wants you to smile, and yet he loves to make you scream his name and cry out for him.

He wants to break you. And you let him.

"Can I tell you something about my past?" You ask, looking up as him with teary eyes. Alastor nods, taking another bite of his (now finished) crumpet. "Of course, I'm a very good listener." He replies after swallowing, blinking at you with an extraordinarily endearing gaze. You have to stop yourself from getting flustered.

"I know.." You mumble, fiddling with the sleeves of your coat. Watching with dark eyes, Alastor crosses one leg over the other in his chair, ears perking up at the silence. Sighing, you ready yourself to speak, biting your lower lip before just letting the words flow.

"I never liked anyone my whole life on earth, I mean.. I died early, I know that but still I have never felt any attraction to anyone. Anyone ever." The words come out anxious and almost scared, matching the way your hands shake in a tremulous way. And yet Alastor makes you feel better by laughing, humming at words.

"Ever? How odd, me neither!"

Your eyes widen. Never really asking anything about Alastor, you don't know why you are surprised. You often worry that you annoy him if you ask too many questions, so you guess this is your sign to ask him more.

"What, really?" You gasp, clasping your hands together as you lean towards him with attraction. Alastor just hums in affirmation, taking another reluctant bite from his cake. You think to yourself for a moment, before shaking your head and continuing.

"Well.. anyway. The only feeling I ever got towards anything was this idea of.. being with someone like you. And I know that's crazy, that I would feel attraction to the idea of dating a psycho but the label fit. I'd never changed, even into my 20s when I died I never felt attracted to anything but this personification in my head," You start, flushing deeply as you talk. You don't dare look into Alastor's eyes, too scared to see his reaction to your words. Whilst continuing to speak, however, you find that you don't feel any sort of distaste from his frame. "And I have to admit, that you are the embodiment of the personification in my head to a degree I can't even begin to explain."

Silence flourishes the air for a thin moment, making your throat clog up with regret. And yet to your surprise, you feel one of Alastors claws press at your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

"Why do you tell me this now, dear?" Alastor asks, looking into your teary eyes with an unreadably soft gaze. Your gaze shifts away from him and you bite the inside of your cheek, kicking your legs nervously beneath the table."Because I think that I completely understand why," You mutter, tone strangled as his claw begins to press slightly harder into your skin.

"Why is it, my dear?"

You sob, pulling backwards from his hand so you can shrink into yourself.

"Because I'm crazy! I just know it. All of this, this thing we have- it's all part of my delusional self. I can't love anyone unless I have this feeling like I'm in danger. I need to be on edge to be comfortable and feel this feeling I feel right now.." You cry, breathing beginning to become choked and ugly. Staying silent for a second, you take awful whiny breaths in, calming yourself. Not once do you look up at Alastor.

"I hate myself Alastor.." You utter out, another heap of tears dripping down your cheeks. To your surprise, Alastor is next to you in a flash, gripping your cheeks and making you look up at him. His smile is wide and sadistic and yet his eyes are soft and pseudo-empathetic."Now now my dear, do I look like I'm judging you? I'm crazy as well. We are both just psychopaths with a twisted idea of love." He assures, claws digging into you very slightly as he pulls on your cheeks, forcing you to smile.

"How so..?" You sniffle, pulling his hand from your cheeks. Yet instead Alastor just grips the back of your neck, ensuring that your eyes are on him at all times. He needs your full attention. "I like the idea of pulling on someone's strings and controlling them to submit to my every desire. You like the idea of being controlled and that thrill you get from the danger of it all." He says lowly, voice flowing into your ears with such tremor you can't help but stare at him with an adoration.

"Are you saying we're the same? Because I would never kill anyone.." You say softly, blinking at him. Alastor chuckles, shaking his head at your words. He almost tuts them, really, his chuckle being almost mocking in a way that you can't understand. You can never understand him, never completely. And perhaps that's the way he likes it.

"No no no, my dear. I'm saying that you and I fit perfectly into each other's idea of love. We are similar in those parts of ourselves, and that's what makes us fit so well together, hm?"

Your breath catches in your throat. He's right. He's so right. You are both broken souls that bring out the best you can out of eachother. Nothing will ever be normal with him, and nothing will ever be normal with you. And yet.. and yet your heart beats at such a fast pace you fear your adrenaline will spike through your skin.

"I guess this makes sense.." Is all you say, breathless with your words.

Alastor hums, trailing his hand from the back of your neck down your chest, until it reaches your hand. Pulling you by your hand to your feet, he brings you into a warm addicting hug. You moan into his embrace, shivering with goosebumps as his breath tickles against your ear.

"so do you really love me, really really?" You ask, teary eyed and tired.

"I really, really love you my dear. I'd kill every sinner in hell to keep you." There's a sinister tone to his words, and even yet you value them more than you can admit.

"That means a lot to me , Alastor."

"I'm glad, my fawn."

At peace, for now at least.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x reader angst #hazbin hotel angst #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfic

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unknown-genshin-fan · 4 months

Text

NSFW alphabet(Sub alhaitham)

(No pronouns used) - TW: Mentions of aftercare, Cum, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking/impact play, Doggy, Oral sex, eating out, Sex toys, Quickies

MINORS DNI

A- Aftercare(What he is like aftercare) - Not that sleepy, would probably lay there looking at you with those tired eyes while you clean him up, having a pink flustered face and heavy panting

B- Body part(What body parts he likes on his partner) Thighs/lap, Like sitting on it or laying on their thighs, or desperately humping your leg while you read a book

C- Cum(anything to do with Cum) Lets you cum basically anywhere, thighs, stomach, mouth, etc

D- Dirty talk(How he reacts) Get's flustered, even if he tries to hide it by turning his head away, The pink blush coating his face is very noticeable, especially when his brain starts filling with all the scenarios of what you could do to him.

E- Experience(How much experience he has on sex or sexual pleasure) For me, He has none, either is too busy reading or work or at most times he doesn't take care of himself in a pleasurable way.

F- Favorite position(Favorite sex position) Doggy, Letting him take everything you give him from behind, Even better if his blindfolded so he won't know a single thing you'll do to him

G- Goofy(How he is during sex) 10% sometimes goofy, most of the time his brain is too mushy to think about anything, the only thing his brain can think about is how good you make him feel

H- Hair(How messy it is) Not as messy but still a bit messed up, Depending on what will you do to his hair, Leave it be or pull/tug on his hair

I- Intimacy(How flustered he can be until he breaks) Get's flustered but doesn't show it, Tries to keep up his regular uninterested cold face, even though you are clearly breaking him inside out

J- Jerking off(masturbation) Quite often Masturbates, It gives him pleasure but not as much as the pleasure you give him, it's just a replacement until you come back to see the mess he made

K- Kink/Kinks(Favorite kinks) Degradation - The feeling of your harsh words pricking at his skin was heaven to his ears, purposely failing just to hear your words, but don't forget to praise him after your time with him Praising - When he has done such a good job, always praise him, seeing his red flustered face and clear tears filling his eyes Spanking/impact play - Seeing all the red hand prints on his ass every morning in the mirror get's him all turned on and red

L- Location(where you can fuck him) Mostly at home, like to be private and in a comfortable place where both you and him can enjoy being all private

M- Motivation(what turns him on?) Hugging him from behind, slightly pushing him against a counter or his desk, seeing his cold face turn into a red flush mess

N- Neediness(How needy he can be) He doesn't know when he can be needy or not, Too busy to care about himself in a pleasurable way, so sometimes you'll have to do it for him

O- Oral sex(Char receiving) Loves to get eatened out by you from behind, seeing his thighs shake every time your tongue hits his prostate

P- Pace(If he enjoys you being fast, slow or rough) Enjoys you being both fast and slow when your handling him

Q- Quickies(How often, where do you do it?) Mostly in the bathroom, either morning or night, before he goes somewhere or before he sleeps, doesn't do it often

R- Risks(Like public sex or teasing) Likes it when you tease him in public, whispering dirty words in his ear or praising, sweet innocent words, seeing him get all nervous and fidgety after that

S- stamina(How long they can keep up or how long they can take you) More than 3 hours. but gets all tired and whiny from the overstimulation, he doesn't know if he should beg you to stop or beg you to keep on going till he forgets how to speak

T- Toys/sex toys(Does he use it a lot Does he have a few? Does he use it often) Doesn't have a lot, only 2-4, He does and doesn't use it often, Only uses it when he gets turned on but you aren't around or near him

(Skips letter U again)

V- Volume(How loud they are) Not as loud but let's out Groans or whimpers, but can be very loud when he is overstimulated

W- when(How sexually active he is) Yes he is sexually active, sometimes fantasizes about you when masturbating

(Gonna skip X)

Y- yearning(How high his sex drive is) Same as sexually active, He craves for your touch on his skin

Z- zZZ(How fast they sleep/passes out) Doesn't pass out if you don't overstimulate him as much, but if you overstimulate him a lot he passes out from pleasure and exhaustion

#dom reader #top reader #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub alhaitham

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aceviscontiswife · 10 months

Text

Killers catching you crying/upset

I’ve been wanting to do some comfort type stuff for a while, so this is what my poll was for! Hope y’all enjoy!

Gn! Reader. Pre established relationship! Killers included: Danny, Pyramid Head, Wesker.

• Danny is used to seeing people cry from fear. He isn’t one to comfort, if anything, Danny’s the reason someone’s crying in the first place. He’s a murderer, not a therapist.

• However, when Danny catches you crying, it’s a different story. Why? What happened? Who did this? How the actual hell does he help you? Long story short, Danny hates seeing you upset.

• You’ve never seen Danny this concerned, or this confused. It’s clear he has no clue how to comfort you, but he tries his best. He’ll kneel down beside you and stay with you until he was sure you were alright. It was a side of Danny you’ve never seen, but not one you didn’t like.

• If it’s a survivor who’s made you cry; don’t worry, Danny will handle it. Once you’re better, Danny will teach that survivor a lesson they’ll never forget.

You had tried to last the entire trial without breaking down, but eventually you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. You slumped against a tree, hugged your knees to your chest, and began to sob quietly. Danny was the killer this trial, you could always just find him, but you didn’t want to ruin his trial with your problems. Danny must’ve heard you, for it wasn’t long after you started crying that he kneeled down next to you and quickly removed his mask so you could see his face. “Hey… what’s wrong?” Danny asks in a tone so… soft, so concerned. It was like nothing you’ve ever head from him.

“I… it’s Nea…” You answer as more tears well up in your red, puffy eyes. Danny nods, wiping away your tears and pulling you into a tight hug, mainly so you wouldn’t see the flash of anger in his eyes at the mention of your teammate. “I’ll handle them once you’re better, okay?” You nod, and while you knew Danny was being sincere, you couldn’t help but ask “Are you sure?” To which Danny simply replies, “It’s what boyfriends are for, dollface.”

(I have never wrote for Pyramid Head before so I apologize in advance lol 😅)

• You’re… crying? That’s not something Pyramid Head likes to see, not at all. His first instinct is to make you stop crying, whatever that might take.

• While he can’t speak, Pyramid is good at telling you things through his body language. He’ll set his weapon aside and open his arms slightly—his way of saying “Come here.”

• He’ll pull you into a bone-crushing hug, his hands awkwardly rubbing your back as you cry against his chest. Pyramid will hold you until you’re done crying, and listen to any word you had to say. For something that spoke in garbled nothingness, Pyramid Head was surprisingly very well at comforting you.

• You’d tell him what had upset you, and if it just so happened to be a survivor, Pyramid Head would leave your side in an instant to go deal with them. He would return covered in blood, set his weapon aside, and allow you to melt in his arms once more.

You were somewhere in the deep, desolate forest of the entity’s realm, tears streaming down your face as you cried. You hadn’t even heard him approaching, startled when Pyramid Head suddenly appears next to you. He had laid his large weapon against a tree, his arms slightly open and waiting for your embrace. You didn’t say anything, you simply took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, laying your head on his chest.

Pyramid Head held you for a while, and it was only when your sobs began to lessen did he finally pull away. You knew what he wanted now; Pyramid Head wanted an explanation. “Gabriel was-“ You cut yourself off as Pyramid Head suddenly turned away, grabbed his weapon, and began making his way towards the survivors’ campfire. Was he going to-? Would the entity even allow that?! Either way, once you realized what Pyramid Head was doing, you couldn’t help but smile and wait patiently for his return.

• Unlike most of the killers, Wesker at least knows what he should say to someone who’s upset. Does he? No. Crying is a weakness, and Wesker can’t have that.

• But, much like Danny, Wesker does a complete 180 when he finds you crying. He never wanted to find you like this, and now that he has, he wants nothing more than to bring an end to your tears.

• You never would have guessed Wesker was good at comforting, but he was. He knew exactly what to say, what to do, and had you feeling better again in no time.

• If it’s a survivor who’s made you cry, you best believe Wesker will handle things. He’ll wait until he’s in a trial with them, and once he is, he’ll make sure their time with him is absolutely miserable. Wesker will teach that survivor a lesson, and it’ll work so well they’ll probably never speak to you again; out of fear of what Wesker might do if they hurt you again.

“Dearest, why are you crying?” You heard a familiar voice speak from behind you. You turn around to spot Wesker, staring up at him through teary eyes. “It’s nothing…” You lie, quickly wiping away your tears and sniffling. Wesker obviously didn’t believe you, stepping up next to you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t lie to me, y/n. What’s upsetting you?” You knew there wasn’t a point in lying again, so you tell Wesker the truth.

“Laurie was being really rude to me in my trials…” You admit, sounding more childish than you had wanted to. Wesker simply hums in response, resting his free hand on your other shoulder and beginning to rub them, easing the tension you had gathered from your earlier trials. “I’ll handle it, sweetheart.” Wesker assures you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

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