#and practicing a few spells

[kaninchen-reblogs]

I think this is the funniest fucking notifications I've ever gotten in Morrowind.

[crowrrupt]

Pre-X1 Zero (and X) doodle, and yes I was too lazy to properly draw his hand

"Zero-senpai! I got us ice-cream for a mission well-done!"

"Geez, this rookie is so strange"

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 9

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic

A/N: so sorry for the long delay, was a bit overwhelmed irl and needed a break from writing, and this chapter its the longest on the fic and editing it was a difficult. thank you so much for reading Hope y'all like it and warning this is a long chapter fr fr-- prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance, child murder mention, murder mention.

Chapter Nine

Tally

A field trip to the museum of natural history was scheduled for the day and to your daughter's unsurprised annoyance– here was her father riding the school bus too… 

Homelander had made a surprising decision.

This was his way to win you both, putting himself more and more present in your lives as gently as he could muster, suddenly taking special interest in her schooling, as this was important to you both– more than you had anticipated, he would have. 

Joining the PTA board, not even making an immediate fuss on the injustice of not being worshiped on sight, acting maturely even if slightly jaded about not being handed the head of the table upon blessing them with his presence– but there he was helping out when asked by the other members with fundraisers and other volunteer works if possible. 

He would come and watch them do their homework-- one while at work and the other at his home, coming over every night to tuck her in, for Ryan went to bed at 9 like a good kid and Helena did not turn sleepy ‘til midnight, flying to school almost everyday to make sure both children were still present, and to pick up Ryan. 

Wishing he could take her too but strong enough to accept he couldn't just yet… his many enemies and detractors a source of constant concern in your mind, so even if it hurt, Homelander knew it was the safest thing he could do for now, the simplest thing to ease your worries for the time being.

 Helena was more concerned about how such a busy man had enough time to spare just to stop-by to make sure his kids entered the right car, how he had time to follow the driver to make sure he took the fastest route and that his behavior was proper– poor time management skills and a small battalion of distressed assistants, she thought.

It killed him, it killed him to play a stranger towards her, wishing he could do more than wave good morning and good afternoon, finding himself being stared at by the other caregivers as he gawked at his daughter for too long while she waited for her driver or as she was dropped off by you or her driver in the morning, as you no longer let her walk to school. The girl did a better job at pretending not to know him, offering flat smiles at best while he tried to keep his expression blank.

You couldn’t deny he was trying so dearly to be there.

He found it irritating how easy it was for Helena to talk to the driver than it was to talk to her own father, embitter at the lightness in her voice. The two filling the space with discussions about growing up in the eastern bloc, about how the 60+ year old had worked as a taxi driver for over 20 years before turning to the private sector because the hours were better, about coming to the country in his late teens, fascinated about how his father had raised 2 kids then his 2 nephews after the death of his sister, about how he worked in the sanitation department until he was 80 years old– she spoke with ease to the older man, while stiff and impersonal with him, perpetually cautious around him. Homelander would’ve replaced him on the spot had he not had the itchy feeling that she would get angry at him for it.

The two could discuss work with ease at least– she was quick to unravel office politics and their thousands unspoken rules, coming to understand how Vought's hierarchy was more than just letters outside of doors, and salaries, quite easily.

Engrossed by the bizarre world of Superhero shenanigans, eager to learn what it took to manage the powered and unruly, what it really took to make a Supe, and the spoken human cost that kept the light on… it was all required reading in order to understand how the business was– these people were ultimately vapid and dangerous. A-Train was still a soft spot for her (she was okay with making exception after all everybody did the same) they discussed movie deals and product branding with more spit than it took discussing actual hero work, saving people and doing good was not even secondary to their priorities, while others in the same building discussed murders and other colorful cover-ups made by her fellow brethren over the water cooler. At first The Seven had been opposed to her presence… silently of course, to have a stranger moseying around their territory was unnerving much less a child… but once it became common knowledge that the little would-be tyrant was not a normal child they had turned far more self-conscious, but all it had taken was one look from Homelander daring them voice their discomforts for all of them to shower her with pleasantries and complements, for all of them to act as if she wasn't in the room.

Helena was quick to note how much of a fooney her father was-- faking and selling niceties with believable charm as if this was his normal behavior in their meetings, it was beyond obvious in the unsaid way everybody was fearful of his bite that he was just acting for her sake, confusing the lot, making them wonder why he did such a thing to impress a precocious stranger– Helena could see him squirming in his seat, squeezing his fists, desperate to lash out whenever The Seven irritated him. 

As long as she sat in the room he denied his true nature, she took note of it… curious as to how catastrophic it would be once he reached boiling point, wanting to know if she could push his buttons even further out of morbid curiosity.

The group theorized what truly motivated his behavioral changes, some believed the online whispers of netizens, while others had a more insipid suspicions, thankful that in the long list of abilities he had did not include telepathy– regardless it was nice to not be murdered on the spot for their misdemeanors.

She thought it would’ve been easy if he just spilled the beans but at this point both yours and Homelander’s relationship status had been kept under wraps– the board and Ashley had been the only ones informed. A matter of strategic release, it seemed.

Coming headfirst and dropping the news was considered but the spectacle that came from Homelander’s reveal of Ryan had been grating and a nightmare for the company-- but as the writing team worked their magic, the revelation was woven into a dramatic narrative, feeding scraps and crumbs to the curious masses just to kept the conversation, Ryan had been kept safe from netizens during the trail days, the internet speculated without permission about Homelander's personal life and his son– but now they were invited to do so for you and by extension Helena.

It had all begun from a paparazzi scoop, a staged candid photo showing Homelander in civvie cosplay and you his blushing partner staring at each other romantically, then the money shot of you two kissing in pretend secrecy.

The public went wild with it, for years Homelander’s many relationships were a source of entertainment so this was just another thing for consumption, many tried to learn  about you, the first images just grainy and purposefully angled poorly to kept your partially obscured, with each week after the original release more and more images began circulating… culminating in Homelander’s own social media account announcing his shocking engagement to a young New York chef.

It was all the news could talk about, and now Helena had to bear the public’s sudden interest.

People wanted to know all the details, to know all there was to know about you, your unmarketable story had been handled by Vought making you feel safe but that had been a nightmare on its own, but that was for later…

It would’ve been easy if she at least had Elmo to confide with, if Helena had anybody but her driver and her lab assistant to talk to.

But there she was forever in the confines of her mind, lost in books, and playing chess at school and chess-rooms.

Homelander had noted how quiet she’d become, more than usual… spying from a distance witnessing his daughter’s loneliness and unable to help– At school she was a loner, expected from a child that stood out too much, a child with poor socialization skills and her abrasive personality it wasn't surprising, spending her lunchest alone and break times in the library or the music room honing her skills instead of socializing, on the occasion she could converse with one of the older kids in her music class, bringing a smile to his face… sounding so much like a girl as the older kid taught her a piece– she wasn’t like Ryan who had come out of his shell, making a small group of buddies and acquaintances with ease but Helena hadn’t had any luck. John knew from you, that she had always been like that, with time she would find somebody, that he should be patient, for Helena was resilient… but he couldn’t bear to look at it.

And he knew just what to do.

Sven Cripple wasn’t what he expected– Just another schmuck in marketing that liked to dress in casual clothes to stand out in the office, thinking of Nigel, this man certainly seemed misplaced on the other’s side. He was lanky and tall, his pale blonde hair natural and his nose protruding… it was the tattoos and piercings that looked out of place next to that new money prude. The man gave him an ill-conceived stern look, before washing it with fake friendliness.

“How can I help you Homelander?” He said, looking as his team hurried out of the room.

“Just wanted to come down for a chat… how’s little Elmo doing? Haven’t seen him in daycare for a while.”

“We decided to take Elmo out for the time being–

“Just because my daughter is around” He cut him– that’s a bit cruel.”

“With all due respect sir… your daughter tried to kill my son,” he said with a snap.

“You mean: tried to make him better by increasing his chances of success in this industry.” Homelander tried to remain friendly– I’ve heard that Elmo's health hasn’t deteriorated in the least, and has gotten quite good with his new found powers.”

“Yes, he is doing well. Thank you for your concern, sir.” He took his laptop from the table– is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, bring Elmo back to daycare” Homelander dug into his belt pulling out a pamphlet from Helena’s school– "Is a great school, Elmo would surely thrive there.”

Sven dare not take the piece of paper, feeling nervous as Homelander stares down at him from beneath.

The man took a deep breath wanting nothing but to end the conversation and head back to work.

“Thank you but we like Elmo’s school and we aren’t–

“You live in Chinatown don’t you? Forsyth street, right? Lovely apartment, great price for a three bedroom in this city, decent enough to house that yappy little doodle-mix… so cute! Love your decour who doesn't love mid-century modern… and surprisingly quiet streets plus you’re near an okay school at walking distance and for that price– what a bargain! I’m so jealous” He spoke so smoothly, licking his teeth as he took a step forward– now… just between us. Man to Man… concerned father to concerned dad…” He took the man by the chin cupping his face to force him to watch him straight in the eyes– you’re going to get your store bought misborn brat, and you are going to bring him back to daycare. You’re going to enroll him into this school, and let him and Helena be best friends forever or I’m going to make you eat him. I’ll sit you down and your fucking husband and serve him to you in a platter with so much ssamjang you would lick your fingers from how delicious it was! And then I’ll kill your husband and your yappy little gay dog before you’re framed for their murders.” He says with a smile.

Sven felt his bladder almost empty as the red lights burned so hot, his eyes had turned dry and his lips chapped from the heat radiating from him.

“Now you can go and tell anybody about what I just said, and try to get me in trouble but just so you know… I’m so fast and little kids don’t run that well…. even flying ones; Or you could do as I say and we can pretend to be buddies, right champ?” He gave the man’s cheek a light tap as he turned the lights off– I think Helena and Elmo would make a great team… does he miss her? Don’t lie to me.”

“He’s been upset lately.” he whispers.

Homelander squints but it's pleased at the man’s meek demeanor.

“I know sometimes we parents have to make hard decisions but think about it… it's what you and Nigel always wanted… for him to be famous… under my wing he'll achieve more than any other Supe could, I have this grand vision and I know without him Helena won’t like it… it would benefit him regardless.”

“That's not what–

“You gave him V! Don't act so sanctimonious why else would you if it wasn’t for personal gain!? To make sure he never got a cold!? Please save it… maybe not you… maybe Nigel, but you gave him compound V for a reason. So don’t squander your investment. You are just another greedy wannabe trophy parent.” He spat on his shoe– I expect to see the kid by next week at the latest, förstått?” 

Sven crumbled behind him, making music for Homelander’s ears as the man realized just who Homelander truly was, knowing full well that there was nobody in this building that he could turn to, too afraid to find out what would transpire dare he tried to run.

By next week he could barely contain his smug satisfaction as he saw the kid return– he had done something you couldn’t with such ease, whereas you try talking to Nigel, try to build a connection via apologies that the man hadn’t care for after giving him space… he had given your child his friend back.

While there was no dramatic run towards each other, there was that sweet little smile on her face as they both sat together to draw.

By next month he would join her in school… admittedly Homelander did forget that the kid was in the 2nd grade but even with the distance, they still found ways to see each other… After all, a kid sneaking out of class didn’t stand out if she looked like any other grade schooler.

It was something… it was more than he ever had… he would’ve killed to have at least one more person with him in that room, one he could actually touch… he wanted to give her everything he could but for the first time he shared some of your grief.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Helena ceased to move her fingers from the keys, instead of attending study sessions she had wandered off to one of the music rooms, the teachers well aware and unconcerned.

“Shouldn’t you be in study hall or the library?”

“I like it here.” She turns slightly to face him– you didn't answer my question.”

“I was in the area and decided to come by and say hi.”

“This isn’t your territory and that’s not allowed.” she says firmly.

 “Saw that Elmo started attending school– Mr. Radmilo told me he saw you talking to a kid yesterday evening… a boy that sounded a lot like Elmo.”

Helena chortled mightily amused by his poor performance, before she could say a thing he sat by her side placing a couple fingers making a tune with his fingers, she was tempted to follow him and test if he had any skills.

“That was your doing wasn’t it? Mom wasn’t making any strides in that department… What did you do?”

“I am The Homelander and their boss… would you tell me no, if you were them?”

Helena could only imagine what he would do to strangers he didn’t care about, compared to what he had done to you… he might’ve been worse. She leaned against him playing a couple keys just to play along– it was awful to admit but she was glad, she was glad her friend was back, glad that her lunchest wouldn’t be so lonely, that at least she could sneak out to the playground and hang out with him, that she had somebody to talk to.

“Thank you… do you play?”

“Noir used to play… I would stop by his apartment and he would play for me from time to time… I was taught a couple tunes but it was never for me… I miss it… listening to him.”

“He doesn’t play anymore?”

“That’s just a guy being paid to wear his suit… kept the brand– That’s not my Noir… so anyways… I was thinking you and I can ditch school for the day and hang out before we come back to pick up, Ryan.”

Her eyes opened wide, smirking at the suggestion.

“Asking me to ditch school… that’s not a good thing to encourage…”

“Are you going to fall behind if you do?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer, playing with her hair.

“Nope!” She did like the feeling of being pet, it was nice, his hands bigger than yours, feeling so small under his glove and wishing it wasn’t there at all– where are we going?”

“I wanted to show you one of my favorite places in the world.” He said with a glimmer in his eyes– I think you’ll love it!”

She nodded and pushed herself free, letting him drag her out of the school while everybody was bored in class, he tucked her firmly in his arms holding her head against his chest as he took flight.

How could anybody ever get used to this sinking feeling in the gut that comes from the rapid ascent, the way her ears close shut and the taste of blood flooded into her mouth, how did a normal human withstand this when her body was above average yet still struggled, she squeezed his body the best she could, unable to speak or breath. Her mind works fast, knowing this would be risky but she builds a small bubble, gasping as everything around her cranium suddenly feels back at home.

Inside her bubble nothing moves, the air it's still but clear, below the neck it was left to god.

Homelander looked down catching those frightened little hands clutching at him, he slowed down so quickly he made himself queasy, flying was no different from breathing or sleeping to him, he looked down hoping she hadn’t lost consciousness, his throat closing on itself as she took a second to look up shivering in his arms, he squeezed her tight and began his descent, still a couple hundred miles from his destination. 

The ground felt otherworldly as he landed with a soft thud under his boot.

“Am so sorry…” He choked, his body matching hers as he collapses placing her down to check for her wounds, tears welling up making it hard to see.

“Too fast… Too fast” She muttered, trying not to cry as she watched him do the same– okay… that was mach 2?”

He nodded frantically, eyes flooding as he found nothing wrong with her organs.

“Let’s try mach 1… or turtle… do I have any organ failure? I don’t fe-fe-feel I do.” She said as she squatted on the ground making sure to feel the grass on her hands– let’s do that again.”

“Is all good… oh dear god you’re good!” He broke first.

She petted his hair, slumping on his shoulders forming a bubble around her body preventing her father from holding her further, he watched her confusedly as her body slid away from him.

“Actually go full speed I wanna test something” Shaking off her initial fright with ease– take the bubble and go full speed. I need to know something… What a great opportunity to test my abilities!” She said cheerfully– my body it’s able to withstand it to a degree… I was dizzy and I had difficulty breathing but I didn’t bleed… my ears hurt so its likely my eardrums would have bursted if I hadn’t enveloped my head but who knows when that would've happen."

“What are you on about?” He said nervousy.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn! Is okay– is not like I inherited your physiology, all I got was a hearty dose of compound V.” She rubbed her chin– wonder tho… Ryan is a carbon copy of you... there are records of powers being “inheritable” altho there isn’t much research on the matter– would love it if I could use Ryan for research later on, if possible." She mumbled to herself-- Pick me up and let’s go. I need to see if my bubble can withstand high speeds!”

Homelander had a difficult time understanding, for a moment he considered letting her know but the voice in his head told him to keep quiet just for a little longer.

He had a hard time figuring out the most comfortable way to lift the bubble, forcing her to make it smaller for ergonimic reasons, from inside she could find his fingers reshaping the surface by sheer force, a terrifying discovery.

It was no different from a carnival ride, her body flung against the wall of the bubble, the wind rippling all over the surface, pressure forcing her against one direction, but she could still move forward.

They reached the clearing outside an old farmhouse, a dusty american flag waving in the wind of the light blue and gray house, a large tree faced the front and Helena could only recognize it from an episode of Supes in America, he placed her carefully under the tree’s shadow, a wind chime coloured the wind, as she took a step out, following his lead as he entered the house forgetting he had brought her along for a second, the rustling leaves sung alongside rusted chimes, she looked at the overgrown grass and weeds lining the front yard, at last season’s dead leaves and fresh dead ones littered across the porch.

Inside everything had been covered in sheets, old cobwebs had made a home in the once cozy house, and picture frames caked in layers of dust clouding familiar faces.

Homelander headed for the living room where an old piano decorated with plane models adorned the room. She remembered the episode somewhat… expecting a retelling of factoids she could pull out from some youtube clip in an instant, a picture of an older blonde couple holding a small toddler in blue, white and red stripes, in fact they all were wearing some shade of red and blue, she noted.

Helena climbed to the piano picking the photograph as her father just followed quietly.

“Were they nice? Mine suck, lol.”

“They would’ve loved you. I’m sure of it.’ He spoke quietly– mom loved the piano too… I always wanted to hear the old thing play again.”

Helena smiled putting the photo by the dining table before it, flicking the lid open and scouring the music sheet for a decent tune, Homelander sat on the wooden table watching her hands play 'Schubert– moment musicaux No. 3', her fingers long enough to not strain her hand as she started to get to the most difficult parts of the intermediate song.

“Just like mom used to play… you must’ve gotten it from her.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers began to move to a different tempo, speeding up as she began a different concerto, Homelander picked it up watching her quizzically as her hands moved faster and faster, there was a darkness in the music– she must’ve been a virtuoso to be able to play Brahms most obnoxious pieces as a hobby!”

Her fingers smashed on the keys as the Hungarian dance sped up, missing notes and pains building all the way up her elbow– quitting all together, cursing at her fingers for being too short, cursing at her arms, wiping the sweat of her brow angrily.

She took the music sheet book flipping its cover towards Homelander to reveal the author, he should’ve known the set designers or prop makers had no care for the little things.

“What’s going on?”

Homelander swallowed a couple knots looking down away from her, he stood up.

“…follow me”

She dragged herself out of that piano as her father headed upstairs, his feet loud on the creaky floorboards, the halls just as dusty and quiet on the floors above, the fragrance of mildew and time permeated in the air, all the doors were shut except for one– the cream coloured walls adorned with frames pictures of baseball stadiums, small league baseball team flags with a tiger mascot sprinkled on the wall, and model airplanes hung from the ceiling decorated the small children bedroom. She gave a rounded look to the room, spotting the small bookcase filled with blue spines, a stack of worn down Hardy Boys’s books, and a cute wood carved rabbit.

Grimacing at the massive poster of the American declaration of independence with its tacky eagle/flag shield drawing on top, she shouldn’t criticized for her walls were mostly bare but this felt odd, decorated with books and awards she had won, her only pretty poster was a polaroid of a cat she found at a garage sale, but there was something bizarre being witness. It felt made for TV, it didn’t feel natural once the warm filter was off.

The room wasn’t as dusty as the floor below, he paused before the small collection of trophies on top of the dressers fidgeting until they were all straight, giving the room an odd look around before slumping on top of the children’s bed, a bit of dust danced on the sunlight, Homelander took the red cap off the bed post throwing it at Helena’s direction, Helena opted to sit on the small gangnam print armchair, putting the hat to humor him.

“You don’t get any whiter.” Her eyes keep staring at the poster– you always been this needlessly patriotic?”

“What? You have dissenting opinions against the government? You little anarchist.”

“This country is run by senile geriatrics and billionaire oligarchs… but above all… humans.”

He fixed the pillow as he closed his eyes with a light chuckle clinging on his lips.

“Humans… you think it shouldn’t be them?”

“Supes are a minority, humans would always lead nations no matter how many of us are around. They could use with a fresh pair of eyes, tho… not to mention you could kill a lot of those in charge and it would be a good thing.”

“Bit extreme."

“Maybe growing up in a place like this makes it difficult to understand what it's like to live on the side of those the government deems a burden.”

“I didn’t grow up in a place like this– this is all fake…” Homelander opened his eyes slowly, staring at the silver plane dangling from his roof, blowing with enough force to make it spin on its threads– they built this for TV… my room didn’t have anything… just a bed… a toilet and sink– no bathtub or shower in case I tried to kill myself or hurt myself if I showered or something! Nothing else… just bare walls… not even a window just an air vent.”

Helena cocked her head, brows touching as she heard him talk, her eyes gliding back at that stupid poster.

“You were in foster care? I’ve seen the Vought operated orphanage facilities… not exactly optimal.”

Homelander turned on the bed wanting to tell her all the things he held, but his tongue turned so heavy he dare not… not yet… would she pity him? would she think of him as pathetic? It was hard to see if she felt any form of sympathy at times– but he didn’t want that from his child, it was not a burden for her to carry, he thought.

“Something like that… I never knew my mother… she didn’t want me, I think. My father didn’t know he had me… then he tried to kill me when he meet me.” He took a deep breath, trying to make himself laugh as if it was a silly annotation in his life– Vought took care of me when I was a baby.”

“Was it a bad facility?” She didn't think it was right to ask, wondering why he was saying such heavy things with such lightness on his tone.

“I would burn the whole world before I let you or Ryan end up in a place like that.” His voice was stable but his expression betrayed him– it was lonely and awful. But I managed.”

“I’m sorry… we cannot help the nature of our birth or the nature of those who cared for us… we just have to deal with the leftovers they left us with– doesn’t need to hurt less, right?”

She paused, caught by that saddened expression forming on her father's face, at his gloves squeak under his grip. Helena fiddles with her backpack, jumping off the armchair towards him-- he looks up at the open palm holding candy, her lips trembly purse and her eyebrows fold downwards, finding her upset and nervous Homelander lifts himself on his elbow taking the werther's candy in hopes it would ease her.

“I’m sorry… sorry that happened to you.” She was struggling to talk– I knew kids who got taken by CPS… it didn’t always seem like a good thing.”

Homelander offered a sad smile that made for poor comfort.

“Is okay is all behind… I… I am just glad your mother never came back… because they would have done that to you.”

She looked confused, urging him to explain without words.

“Come ‘ere.” He fixed himself back upright, gluing himself to the wall to give her space, Helena dropped her backpack and hopped on the bed, finding it to be tight squeeze– your mother didn’t tell you just how special you and Ryan are. How much more special you two are even more than me… maybe.”

The girl gave him all the answers he needed in those big befuddled eyes.

“You and Ryan are the first natural born supes… Ryan’s mother came back when Ryan began to show powers while pregnant– so they locked her in a house like this. Ryan lived in a whole compound of fake houses and fake neighbors… a fantasy prison– and that was the “nice” place! Your mother was lucky, they would have taken you and put you in the same place they put me.” 

Speaking as if nothing was loaded, Helena scrunched the blanket under her hand, wanting to argue with him, yet if this was all true… she couldn’t blame him for being maladjusted.

He looked at the nightstand and the book next to the blue plastic lamp, taking in his hands.

“You like Dr. Seuss?”

Helena shook her head.

“Never read it. Mom got me too many books growing up, maybe we never got around them… and by the time I could walk to the Library I just skipped the kids section… as pretentious as that sounds.” She followed his hand as he trapped her in between his arm and his chest, but she wasn’t scared, this was normal for parents to do, even if he was still somewhat alien to her– I don’t think I was lucky.”

“You seen what they do in the labs… they would’ve done that to you, mayhaps.” He opened the book ‘If I ran the zoo��-- When I was small I had a stutter and they would…” he paused, biting his tongue slightly as it sat uncomfortably in his mouth– I would have to read a lot of silly rhyme books. Dr. Seuss was my favorite. I always wanted to met these stupid critters but turns out they weren’t real.”

There was a fondness in the way he held this book, his thumb rubbing on the spine, pressing the worn creases, tracing marks and straightening blunt tips– the copy was well loved, scratched beyond repair at the corners, and the spine so creased some white seep from the cracks as it threatened to rip apart.

“So I was born with my powers then… I can see why they would do such a thing to Ryan.”

“I think if Becca was around… she would have preferred it if she kept him to herself in the first place, maybe make her husband think the kid was his.” He looked down at the mop of black hair, expecting to see you but finding her instead, his eyes widen hoping the kid wouldn’t have a snappy comeback or grow uncomfortable but Helena just flicked to the next page reading the short verses, admiring the drawing of an elephant cat with a little smile– you don’t mind being born with powers?”

“It’s awesome to have powers. You want me to be all sappy and act like having them makes my life worse? Does it suck sometimes– yes.” She pauses, flattening an edge that had been used to bookmark too many times–  I’m different even amongst supes… but If I didn’t have powers then… I would be useless– I would make mom’s life harder. But I am great.”

Homelander felt the candy pressed tightly in his glove.

“I don’t think your mother would ever think that of you…”

“I dunno.” Her cheek rubbed on his suit, her voice so quiet as she went to the next page– sometimes… I don’t think she likes me very much… but sometimes she obviously does…”

“Helena…” His face hurt as he tried to speak but found himself unable to say another word, his jaw dislodging but his tongue sat dry in his mouth. 

“I was two when my powers happened. Mom… Mom managed to get out of the shelter and we moved to a long hallway with a bed and stuff on the walls– it was super cheap and it was better... I lived there until well… I broke a wall… then it was back to the shelter and then people’s houses and grandparents… When I was five we got that apartment and by then I realized I was allergic to dogs so I didn't need to be afraid of my nose anymore… no more broken stuff…”

“Those were accidents!” his voice almost broke, a seething rage tried to burst out of him as his eyes took a new shade of red, faceless bodies lingered on his thoughts wishing to justly harm them– all of that… that wasn’t you.”

“Tell that to my grandma after I broke their staircase.” She sulked in her spot– and the wall attached to it.”

Homelander could only cuddle her, wishing he could comfort her as easily it had been with Ryan. His son had desperately needed affirmations, needed to be provided with love and understanding– but this one saw everything far too maturely for him to help, he felt. 

“You can break stuff now… I’ll clean it up and I won’t get mad at you.”

“Thanks…?” That sounded grim coming out of his mouth but she wanted to hear it, as silly as it was, she nuzzled his side trying to crawl higher following his feathery fingers– By the way… why is this your favorite place? Like this is just a film set to make you look so cornbread american it hurts… I guess people knowing you’re an orphan didn’t sit well with test groups.”

“Is not. I fucking hate it… but sometimes I like to think what it would’ve been like if i grew up in a place like this. I don’t own much… I have a cabin but I don’t go there anymore… no home for me… just houses.” He flicked the page giggling at the silly drawing of weird animals– my favorite place in the whole world is right here.”

She expects him to point at anything, but he doesn’t for he’s just looking at her with sleepy eyes.

“I love you Helena. I really do.”

Her eyes blinked and blipped, as she hugged him back… with only one arm, it felt like the correct thing to do, Helena could see herself much younger, inside that small apartment while the neighbor is being loud, there she was sharing headphones with you, playing a movie on your old laptop, she hugged your torso with those short chubby arms that always felt so light to you, and her face resting on your chest, she remembered the weight of your chin and the lull of your breathing… her father was a slow breather making her sleepy.

“My favorite place in the world it’s Rolling’s Hills Asylum– I saw a ghost there once."

“Ghost aren’t real” He tried not to laugh at her beaming eyes.

“You shoot lasers out of your ass but ghosts are too far-fetched? Really?” she was genuinely offended– ridiculous.”

He had a hearty laugh regardless, he closed the book giving her head a peck, taking the moment to smell her hair, to enjoy the sound of her heartbeat and the blood coursing through her veins, hearing the current glad that it continued to run, seemingly never ending as it should be.

“Okay…Okay…” He lets her take the book off his hands, clearly miffed that he wouldn’t let her finish, he swallows– You know why I brought you here?”

“No.”

“I always wanted to know what it would be like to have a family in a home like this… having Ryan in the tower was the closest thing to that but now there’s you and your mother so I want to know if you’re okay with me moving in…? I started looking at houses but your mother is difficult… and there’s my penthouse which… I don’t know if it’s ideal.”

Helena had to fake ignorance, partially aware of what stresses you were putting yourself into. Sure neither of you had discussed this move somehow.

Your daughter straightens herself clutching the little book tight against herself, thinking of the dusty air in the room and the fake planes above her head covered in cobwebs.

“Move in with us…? I don’t think mom would like to live in the tower. I certainly wouldn’t… Is weird living where I work… great for saving on travel expenses, just… not a pleasant idea… just ‘cuz you helped me with Elmo– I’ll help you out with mom. It was sad without him around, somehow.”

Helena buried her face under the book, feeling as if she had betrayed you but she had to win him over… for you, she had to succeed, she had to do everything she could to not fuck this up.

Her heart thumped so loudly it was deafening, as she accepted her actions.

“Do you like Elmo?” Homelander turned pale, his nose tickled by a cocktail of emotional conditions.

“Huh?” She blinked thrice as her face twisted to face him– he is my friend… you’re supposed to like your friends.”

“Just as friends, right?” He tried to force an uncomfortable light laugh.

“Oh…” She blushed then frowned– I am seven!! Jesus you’re being gross, dad!!” She jumped out of the bed–  Elmo is my dog.” she said loudly.

Homelander wished he didn’t hear your voice just then, he buried his face in the pillow praying that the kid didn’t understand just how grim her words were, but mostly disgusted at himself… Why he had to say that? Was he jealous of a toddler!?.

“If you want to hit me please do so.”

“How hard?” She scowled, repulsed unknowingly by her father's misplaced jealousy, she wanted to hit him regardless.

“Your hardest.” He mumbled.

“I would break the wall.”

“Go for it.” he lifted a thumb up

A hundred or so meters later, and a tree branch jammed under his arm tearing his cape, he looked up spitting grass and dirt, the sky so obnoxiously blue.

He lifted himself slightly but not all the way with a slight groan, witnessing the hole on the side of the house and the torn down tree he had taken with himself, Helena jumped out the caveat floating towards him.

“Are you hurt?”

He lifted his fist still clutching on that wrapped piece of candy as she made her way towards him, struggling to unwrap it, glad when it was freed, the smell sweet and warm but tame compared to other crimes, shoving it in his mouth, allowing the caramel to melt in his tongue, he took a deep breath.

“Oh shit did I actually hurt you!?” With a pop Helena landed near him, jumping on her knees towards him, throwing her backpack to the side as her father just stared at the sky– you aren’t bleeding. Thank god…Good.”

“I’m fine, just surprised… By the way” he sat straight, his head lolling back and his mouth sucking loudly on his treat, he looks back at her once more smiling trying to appear completely fine not wanting his daughter to get more worried, fixated on the little red in her eyes– thank you for not hesitating.”

She sniffled a little.

“You’re so weird.”

“You can’t talk either, princess… I think I know how you can help me with your mom” She moved to remove a twig off his hair which somehow had stayed mostly in place– I want to organize a playdate for you. Get her to agree.”

She nodded, twirling the twig in her hand.

Homelander had one look at the broken house, and the torn down tree whose roots rained dirt– and scorched it. The cinder brought it down, Helena watched the bonfire and the billowing dust clouds, just flinching at the sudden burst of light, but as her sight caught on what was happening, she calmed down, drawn to the sight of flames, amused at how natural and flexible his lasers were, envious that she was lacking of them, angry that she was.

“Can we go get bagels?” She sniffed the smoke– I'm hungry…”

The two tried their best to eat while being gawked at– him more amazed about how much she could fit in her mouth– albeit with some reserved revultion. One hand held an egg bagel with cannoli cream cheese, while the other put a plain one with far too much smoked salmon and bacon cream cheese in his mind.

He watched her as she rotated the flavors, disturbed by her half chews in between to mix them in her cheeks.

She lifted her hand offering a bite of the salmon monstrosity.

“Is okay, I got my own…” She frowned, staring at the barely touched toasted bagel with nothing but a sliver of lox spread, Homelander looked away, not wanting to see her chewed up sandwich, considering leaving briefly then coming back to pick her up, but she insisted– "you want me to try?”

She nodded furiously trying to swallow fast enough.

He leaned down trying to ignore the camera recording behind him, taking a small morsel that seemed to satisfy the girl.

“yummy.”He was forced to look glad as he swallowed.

She looked at his with anticipation, unsure of what to do. he relented yet again.

“Cappers suck.” she regretted her bite instantly, swallowing forcefully.

“I’ll admit– not a fan of them, either.” 

He wouldn’t touch his food content to just watch her guzzle her meal and drown it with his coffee.

He looked at the clock on the store’s wall knowing it was almost time to pick up Ryan, the flight home was slower than he preferred but he hadn’t minded for Helena seemed to withstand this speed a lot better.

“Hey… not to worry or anything but… you did… you did sign me out of school, right?” her voice was filled with anxiety.

“What do you mean?”

As she looked at the high rises around her, she looked at her phone and the 54 missed calls from you.

“Did you tell mom, you were picking me up, right?” She cringed as the phone rang and her battery drained a little further– right!!?”

“No, why?”

“You might wanna park for a second, dude.”

Homelander begrudgingly agreed, putting the bubble down on top of the nearest silver roof.

“Who died?” Helena said.

“WHERE ARE YOU!!!???” your voice might’ve broken the speaker if it went up one more decibel– are you o-okay!? Helena, please tell me where are you!!? Please tell me you’re safe!!” Your voice was cracked and hoarse.

“I’m fine. wha…”

“Okay honey, baby, am going to… oh my god… I got this call from the school and there’s these cops and Ashley trying to find you, baby! Where are you!?”

“Cops…?” Homelander asked, trying to look for strange sounds in the distance.

“Please honey.”

She looked at her father while you frantically spoke to some unseen stranger, covering the mouthpiece.

“You fucking clown. You’re so going to owe me… like… you have no idea what you gonna make me do, you owe me.”

“Why are the cops involved?” he ignored her overtly aggressive tone for the moment.

“You kidnapped me!!! The Homelander’s daughter just got kidnapped of course they would call the cops!! They would call the cops for any kid who just vanishes from school you idiot!! That’s why you tell people!!”

“I need permission to pick up my own kid from school!!?”

“Yes!!” She took the phone to her ear– mom… I just ditched school. I was bored… am in” Helena looked around– Harlem.” Her voice monotone as she shot daggers at her father– I… I am sorry.”

“Helena… okay… okay am… am gonna see if I can get your father… he’s been on some mission but I… I dunno… am just so glad you’re okay, baby. I swear you’re not in trouble.” You cry and mumble towards an unseen and unheard strangers– okay baby they’re gonna track your phone and send somebody to pick you up…”

“Is not necessary. I’ll just float there…” 

“Helena what’s wrong?” Your heart breaks as her voice is so cold, more performative than her usual tone.

“I’m embarrassed… I… I didn’t think… sorry. I’ll get there…” her voice is jittery, her nerves infect you as if something unseen its making her feel like this, hitting you how powerless you were as the line died mid vowel.

She hung, staring at the screen.

“Write your alibi.”

“Why… why did you do that?”

“Because you’ll get in trouble.” She said sternly– next time just text mom before you do anything… how would you feel if mom took Ryan and didn’t tell you? or the school?”

As she walked towards the ledge, she turned to face her father, whose ears had just begun to pick up on the extra bustling happening nearby, like incoming mosquitos in the room.

“I forgot to tell you… but there’s this man called William… William Butcher and he wants me dead. Your mother thought he might do something against you” He bit his lips– that’s probably why she’s so upset and why that helicopter it’s heading towards Harlem.”

He pointed to the east but her sight didn’t pick up anything abnormal.

“I want to go to Disneyland.” She put her phone back in her backpack– and we are gonna do the queues, and you’re gonna eat those disgusting turkey legs on that sweltering california heat and you'll not complain– now this is what its gonna happen you’re gonna pick me up, I’ll pretend to have some sort of depressive episode that caused me to just fuck off scaring everybody and I called you to pick me up just now… your phone was on mute and you just notice, good?”

“Is it really that bad?” He found everything an absolutely ridiculous overreaction– am your dad, you were safe.”

“Today never happened. Or we both are screwed. Trust me it's that bad.”

Arriving at the school in her father’s arms, two police officers awaited for her arrival alongside yourself, a man with a Vought badge was bickering on the phone a few meters away aswell.

“Look who I found.” Homelander was quick to sell it at the sight of palpable distress, you ran towards Helena ripping her off his hands.

Even Ryan had been brought seemingly questioned about where his sister might’ve been.

The collar of his suit never felt so tight before, as it did just then.

Arriving at the home, she was sentence to a month of house arrest– no Vought labs or any unsupervised activities, lucky to just get the one week suspension for skipping school and not worse, Homelander thankfully had smooth things out with the police who almost shouted an amber alert after seeing Vought lose their minds… which necessitated a meeting afterwards, Homelander couldn’t fault Ashley for her panic attack after hearing the news and finding him awol, he was instead glad to see her lenghts of her dedication to him.

“I think we should also go to all the theme parks.” She grumbled putting her kindle down.

The clock reading past midnight.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn, no?” Homelander enter through the glass door, making sure to keep an eye on you as you sleep poorly– hope this makes you feel better.”

He took a yellow envelope from behind his back, it was thin and had a small pink bow, Helena ripped it off his hands, staring back at him as she ripped the glued seal off, the thin paper made her frown dissipate as her eyes digested the present.

“You’re gifting me Vought Stock?” She stares at the document as her mouth drops slightly.

"I have money to spare… perks of being the top dog for over twenty years– I get money from merch and films too, y’know.”

“These are over seventeen-hundred a pop.” She looked back at her father, and suddenly the man appeared  alien to her, he was a different breed indeed– are you sure? Is a lot of money”

“I barely do anything with it. I… I think by the time you’re 18 you could use the money you made from those to get yourself your own big girl seat with the shareholders.” He looks around her room, at the bare walls feeling uneasy, his eyes fixate on the picture of a stranger’s cat wearing a witch’s hat taken in what he could only guess was a dining room– still haven’t sorted the will situation, but don’t worry about money at all. Once I marry your mother it would all have been be dealt with.”

Homelander sat on her desk, leaning his behind on the wooden surface.

“We’re still going to disneyland” Homelander curses internally trying to not look like he was dying– could’ve just gotten me a squishmellow tho.” 

“Do I have to eat the turkey leg…?”

“Yes.”

“Please don’t do this to me” he half-jokingly begs.

“I feel nothing.”

Pouting like a kid, he looks to the ground feeling defeated, looking around, catching your snoozes in the backdrop, you had been so stressed you virtually passed out the moment your head touched the pillow, ypu had been arguing with him about never ever putting his phone on mute again, making him do the rounds of apology about Helena’s behaviour with both Vought, the local police and the school alongside you.

Homelander had grown guilty after seeing just how concerned Ryan had become over the ordeal while watching you comfort him, while your daughter got the talk from the uniformed men and the dean.

Yet you had gone out of your way to call him before bed.

“Your mom said I could visit while you’re grounded… she said you invited me for dinner…”

“Oh it's ‘cuz I told her that she should build a room for Ryan in the empty office so you guys can stay over. You’re engaged. It's weird to live separately but… baby-steps so the kid doesn’t get stressed too much, I mean your last girlfriend was a lunatic.”

“Starlight did turn out to be a loonie.”

“I meant Stormfront…”

“I didn’t know who she was…I was just a man who–

“There’s no cameras here my brother is christ– just one look at her records in Portland, and you would’ve noticed a pattern.”

“I just thought she would get over it after she realized I don’t care… like… am better than humans, we are better than humans… Don’t know why she grouped herself with them.” He scoffed.

“How supportive of you– pretending to care about her interest for pussy… what a chad move.” she scoffed putting the present on her nightstand– Mom did warn me about boys like you.”

“How do you know what tha– and what??”

“I’m in the tenth grade. Surrounded by 16 year olds. I’ve been mentally compromised– either way mom and I are gonna go to buy furniture for his bedroom tomorrow. Thank me later.”

She moved to her bed, pushing her few plush toys to the ground.

“By the way… what’s that playdate you had in mind?” her finger hovered on top of the lamp’s switch.

“They want Phantasma and Poltergeist as the new heads of Teenage Kix for when you’re older and ready. I think that’s too small… the name its too loaded, too many fuck ups after that second gen, b.s.” He stares at her and sees a brilliant future, hearing the chanting of adoring fans screaming for his children’s attention– they want to use that platform to launch our real international program… countries have been in bidding wars for the last couple months to have the first overseas hero program… So far only Japan, France, Brazil and Singapore have successfully been approved for the program. We have a couple open slots… lots of offers from India and the UK.  I want you to head that program– Ryan is great… he’ll lead this nation as their top hero but you– it would be too small for a brain like yours… I was thinking “The Watch” for a name. Catchy, no? Thought you might want to meet your future team-mates... they are a little older than you but...``

“I think I can get mom behind. Either way I should go to bed."

She said nervously.

Homelander smiled moving towards her to tuck her for the night, giving her a good night kiss as he turned the light’s off.

“Wait!”

He turned in a panic, his hand already on the door handle.

“...” She dug on her nightstand cabinet pulling out that Dr. Seuss book– we… we didn’t finish it… would you read it for me?”

Homelander had never seen the dark be so vibrant before, he sat on her bed taking the thin booklet in his hand before clearing his throat.

“I won’t do any funny voice so don’t worry.”

“Is okay if you want to…”

A smile melted into his face.

She watched his shape disappear, that night she dreamt of endless camera flashes.

As the weeks built up, Helena found herself spending more and more time with the other half of her family.

She had helped build the guest room, picking toys and wallpaper and her brother was appreciative.

Watching from a distance while next to him, no matter how much she looked at him she had little desire to interact with him on her own accord, the more she watched you try to sweeten him up, making him ziti and taking him out… the more bitter aftertaste his name left on her tongue.

Ryan was an easy child, painfully normal, nothing special if he hadn’t come pre-packed with superpowers… powers just like their father… he could fly, had laser vision, super strength and durability, and super senses… eyes just as blue, so much like their father. 

So boring… just a copy, no? she kept thinking.

Where was his spark? Where was the zest?

What made him actually special and great?

All he did was be cute, play with his toys and bore her to death. Talking to him was just a chore, nothing different from speaking to the average civilian., these thoughts plagued her mind.

As they sat together at the dining table, she looked at you then at her father and wondered just how much of a nuisance this kid would be for her future… she thought of her father’s vision…“The Watch” trying to decipher what could he possibly have set up for Ryan. The Seven? Really that’s all? Just a face in a lunchbox and nothing else… how quaint, she thought.

With every bite and sauce stain on her napkin, her anxiety took all the flavor from her meal… he was a threat… she thought of the unsorted will situation, no doubt still failing to include her– stocks could open doors to financial stability in the case her father died or lost his position, or you fucked it up with him… but it wasn’t a fraction of what he would leave Ryan, of the safety net underneath him.

But above all as she thought of the large behemoth on New York city skylines waiting for her... he could not stand in her way to take the kingdom.

Kingslayer. 

She could live with that… all the greats had done it… a sibling, a son, an uncle and father decapitated here and there, it be easier if she could shave his head and send it to a monastery to live as an eunuch… to kill the competition earlier on was easy that a drawn out battle killing thousands– butcher him as cleanly as she could.

Why would he miss him, anyhoo? Who would miss him? He had nothing… no mom and a finicky father, just a name that could slip thru the cracks, Helena thought.

She giggled at his joke, sat by his side as they watched a movie after dinner, shared her popcorn and said nothing when you offered your lap to let him rest, said nothing as you brushed his hair with your fingers.

Butcher… the moment ceases to play in her mind, her eyes seeing floating words cover the whole living room– a simple slip up from Homelander… William Butcher… Ryan had been Ryan Butcher once according to his file at work… who was Becca Saunders? She had only ogled the file for the briefest second… he had said it back at the house… passed him as her husband’s kid… who was this William that was so dangerous his name was comically apt. and how much did his wife dissapearance had affected him.

She would keep it in her back pocket.

So here she was on her way to a class field trip to the Smithsonian, her father and two other chaperoned the class, gawking at his recently retouched roots from her seat, more than looking out the passenger window, a girl sat on her side texting to her friends, there was a buzz in the bus as the teenagers came to realize Homelander of all people had come to chaperone their excursion, one of the moms had wasted no time trying to befriend the Supe, her social skills enviable as she chatted him up with ease… already trading baby photos, and asking him about his skincare routine complaining about how dry her skin got around this time of year, and other banalities.

The trip was everything she had expected– except for Homelander becoming an impromptu tour guide, going on a rather in-depth discussion on great American mammals, and the tragedy of the American buffalo with the tour guide.

Helena had gotten excited at the marine exhibitions which thankfully some kids found her explanation interesting, Homelander was proud to see her and two kids discuss whales. On the other end of the spectrum there was her father doing his best to contain his excitement at the sight of Theodore Roosevelt… The man had an encyclopedic knowledge of American presidents and their achievements. One would think he was staring at some invisible monitor feeding him information– regardless there was something sweet as he sat Helena next to the bronze statue of Theodore for a picture, turning the camera quickly on himself, that the other parents noticed, the chatty mom finding it beyond adorable, reminding her of her own little boy.

As the classrooms took a second to relax and have lunch, she saw no alternative but to sit next to him.

“Do you have an earpiece or something?” 

“What? I can’t know stuff?” He scoffed sipping briefly on his coffee.

“Just thought your interior designer just put those president portraits in your house for the bit… like that poster in your bedroom.”

“I like history.” he mumbled, looking a tad shy to admit it, as if it was some dirty secret– am I embarrassing you?”

“No…? I’ve never seen you this excited before.” He blushed, glad that it wasn’t anything bad.

That smile would fade away as they headed to one of the final exhibitions… “American Super” a new exhibition focused on… you guessed it… Superheroes. 

This was a collection of Vought’s finest, hero suits adorning the way in their glass cases, as pretty text explained the inspirations and significance of the suit’s symbolism and how it represented the ideas and personalities of their heroes, on the evolution on textile engineering and how superhero suits helped pave ways of innovation, it was decades of Vought culminating on ‘The Seven’ and some of Goldolkin’s promising students– there was something grim at the sight of his own suit inside a box.

“Where the fuck did they get the red cape from?” He mumbles, the tour guide turned to him to explain, which did not make him feel any less queasy.

“Wow… he isn’t just a massive nerd but also had to be here to show off? pathetic.”

Helena stared at the girl who had whispered towards her friends, them chortling together.

As the tour continued, the man considered briefly murdering the girl, thinking of how easy he could make it look like an accident, he knew her name and address after all– disposing of her should be easy.

His mood soured and his build-up of excitement had completely vanished, picking on every snide and mock comment from the group, spouting the same bullshit of your everyday Starlight supporter– it had been at the mention of his complicitess on those Maeve’s conspiracies where he had grown visibly irked, and unable to hide it.

“You can’t touch them.” Helena tugged on his sleeve pointing at his face– Your eyes…”

“Is okay they’re just stupid children who stare at their phones for too long.” He looked at the bust of Translucent thinking of how they got his hairline wrong– "I wouldn't have come if I knew this was on…”

“Really you didn’t want to see another 1:1 recreation of your childhood bedroom.”

“I want to go home.” He cried as they followed the tour guide, they stopped to ask about the room with excitement which he easily matched after years of selling himself so cheaply– it’s like they picked it up and just dropped it here.”

Both noted how even the carved rabbit bookend was present on this bookshelf.

As they headed for departure, Helena hurried up the stairs catching the girls behind her, she gave her father a cheeky look, pursing her lips behind her finger, flinging her arm absetmindledly as he raised a solitary eyebrow… All there was was the sound of bodies crashing and crying.

A shattered bone, and whining.

He smiled just for her.

And she smiled just for him, before running towards him pretending to have been frightened by the sound, as a crowd built itself and a teacher rushed towards the commotion.

“I think she dances or something… not with that knee anymore.” She whispered into his chest.

“Thank you.” he whispered in her ear, holding her tightly before leaving for superhero duty.

It had to add a line on the tally, no?

Taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

apologies for lenghts but hope y'all like it

[elfiepike]

whyyyyyyy did google slides make it harder to put in different layouts of slides ;_; why from two clicks to three in an entirely different place

[waffliesinyoface]

ffxiv is a good game but it also runs into the problem that a lot of mmos have, which is that i have 20 people on my friends list, 2 of them are regularly online, and no one wants to fucking do anything together.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

'Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.' What happens then, when the line separating that knowledge blurs?

>>> Next <<< Previous (Destiny Bond; a Pokémon fancomic --- pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10, pt.11, pt.12, ???)

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

Why are you using this? (For aac asks)

I am practicing using this AAC so if I have a verbal shutdown I can communicate. This is a CoughDrop AAC system so it required some practice to use in a calm comfortable place when I am not stressed. That practice makes it more easy to communicate when I am overwhelmed.

(Words to add: overwhelmed)

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I would say that the United States, as of right now, has three main food groups (aside from junk food) and those are, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese. All of which have been Americanized here to some extent but differently in different parts of the country. I find this very funny because I have heard people from Italy be indignant about what we’ve done with the stuff (and about good restaurants too!) like, sorry if you guys weren’t creative, mixing things up a bit is great. “What about (regionally popular food)?!” I know we all have those, I haven’t heard of bitches in the south eating lefse, but that’s not my point! What was my point actually? I think I was going to say that, even if we bastardize stuff a lot, I’m super glad we have, as a country, agreed that more seasoning is good. Because if this place had been like “fuck immigrant food forever, we are eating British style” I think I would die.

This country has historically treated immigrants like shit, but we do tend to cave eventually and go like “actually,

your food is really good” a kind of shallow prize I guess, but I’m glad we actually start doing it eventually because I WILL mock British food and I WILL be sad that the only good family recipes my family has from before immigrating are all desserts. Don’t get me wrong, I love sweets, but I’m pretty sure there is a reason we stopped making other stuff

Wait, I re-read this today and realized I sound like my family is British. We are not. What even are British desserts? I bet they don’t have enough cardamom. Although lefse doesn’t have cardamom and i like a lot of things without it, my point is that their holiday and special event foods probably don’t have enough! Which wouldn’t surprise me tbh because apparently the only place that went crazy for the stuff outside of where it originated seems to have been Scandinavia for some reason. At least some maps I looked at seemed to suggest it. Which rocked me to my core

[ancat-dubh]

10 October, just north of London

“We feel cold, but we don’t mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn’t feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It’s worth being cold for that.” – Philip Pullman, Northern Lights

[sillystringpasta]

i don't know who practical pig is or why he has a knife, and i don't want to find out.

[haleyusesherwords]

Non-redstoners trying to redstone: the magic of the glowing red ores is one of the great mysteries of the world that few have mastered. But with careful study, observation, and practice I too may be able to harness its powers

Literally anyone trying to use an armor stand: Cleo is a witch and if I touch their spell book I will die or be haunted for the rest of my days by the aftershocks of magic I will never comprehend

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

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

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[httpsvgin]

ᯓ “SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG.” ۶ৎ

“everybody said you’re a killer, but i couldnt stop the way i was feeling the day your record dropped.” (LANA DEL REY.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

ᯓ PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. bathroom sex. slight angst? dom! in ho. oral sex (f!receiving.) praise kink. slight age difference. blood. violence.

GENRE. smut, fluff? (kinda), angst (kinda?.)

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ chaos erupted after the tight vote between x & o’s, resulting in a bloodbath within mens bathrooms which left five people dead and fondly, you couldnt handle the way the deaths of innocent people racked up just so willingly, leaving you in a helpless and terrified state as the night began to fall. until in-ho spotted by your side in the hell that broke out between the two sides, calmed your panic and took you to safety… a lustful safety.

(THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THIS KINDA SHIT SO IF ITS AWFUL IM SO SORRY CHAT.. ALSO IGNORE ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES!!!! other than that, enjoy.)

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hell. thats what siting in that room felt like for you, mentally praying for the gods above to come and swoop you of your feet and into warmth. and yet no matter how hard you could’ve prayed in that moment, nothing could cure the way your stomach churned and twisted in a million directions all at once as your eyes pinned to the left side of the room where the o’s glared right in your direction, if looks could kill, you would have died the second the boys left the restroom a few minutes ago. some of them covered in blood, eyes dead and predator like while the rest had the look of a frightened child, lost and alone.

everybody knew what was going to happen the second those lights switched off. death lingered and suffocated the air you breathed in, yet far worse was to come, like a storm waiting to crush upon a village.

your back rested upon the wall, watching from afar as your nails dug into the skin of your arms you clutched so tightly to your chest that your knuckles turned white. your mind raced, heart rattling against your chest and sweat began to bead at your forehead as you tried to swallow the dry lump that never seemed to leave your throat. you were going to die in this shit hole, and there was no gods above that could stop that from happening.

the lights flickered off, leaving only the red and blue lights to illuminate the hall of bunkbeds which some still chose to lay in even despite knowing what rampage was bound to happen in just a few seconds. in the darkness of the room you still spotted the sight of in-ho, who’s dark eyes met and softened at yours almost immediately and you refused to look away. he could practically smell the fear radiating of your body from across the small area your group had chosen to stay within, gi-hun sat at his side tightly along with the rest of the group who you found to be the only source of comfort in this hell.

and yet despite the comfort they provided you still sat isolated in the corner at the brink of a panic attack. breathing felt like diffusing a bomb, one hand clutched your chest, trying to relax yourself as your other rubbed your own leg comfortingly. knowing your death was a blink away sent you into a psychotic spiral at the thought that your last breath would be in this room. in this place. in this very moment.

a blood curdling scream erupted around the room, snapping your head up to see the group of o’s charging right into your boundary, screaming and yelling as they pounced onto anyone they could get their hands on.

the lights flickered as the room flipped into a war in the space of a few seconds, sounds of yelling and harsh slashing echoed around. clutching your ears, you rocked back and forward as a loud sob broke up through your throat. “fuck!” you cried into the thick material of your tracksuit, arms covering your head in attempt to blur out the haunting screams that seemed never ending.

“found you, mother fucker!” a voice bellowed toward you, lifting up your glossy ears to stare at player 124 charge at you, face bloodied and covered in a psychopathic grin while in his left palm clutched a shard of glass that dripped crimson blood from the tip. it was no surprise you’d be his circled on his target list due to the fact during the last game, mingle, you shoved his sorry ass out of the room him and his purple headed friend fought so hardly for, which almost costed their lives. now here he is, about to take yours with the same intent you had in that one second during the game.

“i swear im going to fucking slit you in half, bitch.” his words slurred as you stumbled to your feet, not daring to break eye contact while you bit down on your bottom lip that trembled violently.

“fuck you.” you spat, yet your words wobbled along with your legs despite how hard you tried to look ‘tough,’ your eyes still glistened under the flickering lights with tears. nam-gyu howled in laughter, twisting the sharp end of the glass in his hand before his face turned straight in a second. the two seconds he stared felt like an eternity before he charged at you.

yelling, you caught his arm that held the blade pointed at your heart and using your knee you jerked it up to hit in between his legs which forced him to fold over just in time for you to kick him over onto his back. the shard of glass rolled over to the side of his head and in and instant you charged to grab it with shaky legs, only for him to be quicker and yanked at your ankle, shoving you down to the floor.

a slight whimper left your lips tasting the irony taste along your gums due to the impact of you hitting the ground chin first, and before you knew it, nam-gyu had wrestled his way on top of you, using one hand to pin your wrist above your head while the other snatched the shard inches away from your finger tips.

“mm, you’re a good little fighter, huh?” his lips lingered close to your ear while he trailed the sharp end over your face, only grazing your skin slightly. you flinched against his touch, kicking your legs frantically and screaming for help, feeling the tears burn at your eyes. you were fucked, and there was no doubt about it.

feeling your heart thump against your tightened chest, your mind clouded with defeat and you became limp underneath his strength, tossing your head to the side to glance over at the chaos that spread and diseased everyone around you, blood splattered on nearly every wall you looked at while several bodies laid limp , choking on their own blood.

“fucking die, you bitch!” the dark haired man yelled, raising the shard of glass in the air with a smile that sent painful shivers down your spine. and just as you wrenched your eyes shut, the impact of the blade never came. instead, you felt something wet drip down onto your face, pulling one eye open to see a metal poll struck through nam-gyus’s heart before he fell limp ontop of you, his blood seeping and staining your shirt.

opening your mouth to scream, a hand came over to stop any noise from coming out while another shoved the lifeless body of your chest. in-ho stared down at you, blood splattered along his face while his eyes softened at the scene of your shaken face.

“ive got you, ive got you come on.” despite the desperation in his voice his words were none the less slightly comforting despite the chaos around you as he pulled you up from your back where his hand tightening on your wrist and yanked you forward without another word.

you had no time to comprehend what even just happened in that short space of time but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered drastically at the way his fingers interlinked within yours as he charged around the bloodbath. his only priority in this devastating scene was to protect you. only you. he couldn’t give less of a shit about the stack of bodies that were growing at his hands as they ran but instead he looked back every second to see if you where still chasing behind.

his warm hand came onto your lower back and pulled you forward through the door that was questionably opened immediately the second the square masked guard caught a glance of in-ho and it made your stomach sink in confusion at how willingly they were to let him through with just a glance. yet your curiosity was died down as in-ho shoved the bathroom door open with his elbow while his other kept firmly on your waist.

your eyes hurt from the bright light on the bathroom, baby pink walls almost blinding you as you adjusted to the sudden change in atmosphere. quiet. silence. and still your heart never slowed down for a second.

“are you hurt? did that bastard hit you?” in-ho cupped either side of your head in his head, tilting your chin from side to side as his eyes glistened with a hint of panic. taking in the scene, you noticed the way his hair was messed up compared to his usual style, his eyebrows knotted into a frown while he examined the features along your face. softly, his finger lingered over a small cut under your eye from where nam-gyu nipped at your skin and you took in the way his jaw clenched just at the sight of blood from your pretty face.

a groan rumbled in his throat, yet he quickly swallowed down his anger to return his soft eyed gaze back onto you. for a split second his eyes glanced down at your lips before returning back to your face. “poor girl.” he coed, it was like his tone was glazed with honey, sweet and sickening as his hand rubbed against your hair.

you can’t deny the warmth that grew in your lower abandonment, and hell did it twist with guilt at the same time knowing lives were being took the very same second your here in the arms of the man who had caught your wondering eyes the second you saw him. still, it felt fucking euphoric to be beneath his finger tips.

perhaps he read your mind because instead of taking his hand away it came to the back of your neck and yanked you against his lips which you were caught staring at the whole time apparently and you tasted the desperation along his soft lips.

his mouth moved harshly against yours, his tongue arching his way into your mouth and finding the warmth of yours while his other hand came to squeeze at bare skin of your waist which made your heart flutter at feeling his cold fingers against the softness of your skin. the world felt like it was spinning beneath your feet, yanking at his dark hair while your tongues battled for dominance.

“you have no idea how badly ive wanted this.” he whispered against your lips and it sent shivers to the bottom of your spine along side the way slick began to form between your legs as he backed you up against the wall.

tilting your head back you let him gain access to your neck and he wasted no time to sink his teeth into the plush feeling of your skin, tasting and licking along the pulse point on your throat which quickened at the warmth of his tongue exploring you. leaving bruises, in-ho stepped back for a moment to admire his claiming all over your skin while you stood breathless under his predatory eyes.

“take off your clothes.” he growled, returning back to the warmth of your neck before you could even respond to which he squeezed the skin of your waist. “don’t make me ask again.”

gulping, you nodded almost a little to quickly and you stumbled to pull down and kick off the material of your trousers that bunched at your ankles to where in-ho’s fingers pressed to your clothed cunt almost immediately.

“all this for me?” he chuckled against your skin, running a long digit along the wet patch on your panties. “fuck, you’re so good for me..” his voice made you clench your thighs around his hand to where he tugged at the thin cloth and ripping it off your body.

gasping, you slump against the wall he backed you up against, making you shiver at the cold material against your bare thighs and ass. “m-maybe we should do this-“ you began to mumble against his grip yet a sharp moan left your lips when a cold finger came to rub against your aching clit.

slowly, the man sunk to his knees in front of you, not once breaking eye contact as he lowered down your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind. taking your hand into his hair, your chest heaved with anticipation while his dark eyes took in the way your mouth draped open at his slow kisses, tossing your head back against the cold tiles as he gently nipped at the silk skin of your upper thighs.

“please in-ho..” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, your voice croaking with desperation to feel his mouth against you dripping cunt.

“what do you want me to do, baby? use your words for me.” he kept one hand on your hip, using his other to run along the wet slither of your clit that burned for his tongue.

“fuck me!” you cried out, pulling at his dark locks. “fuck me with your tongue!”

“yes ma’am.” you felt him smile against your cunt before he licked a long strip of your wetness from its surface, tasting the sweetness of your slick against his tongue. your body felt like it was on fire with the way his mouth worked its magic on your pussy.

feeling him hum in satisfaction against your cunt sent thousands off sparks up into the pit of your stomach while you moaned out, gripping onto his hair while still pushing his head down further into your pussy while your orgasm began bloom. for a moment he turned his head up to stare at you, lips glossy and puffy from your wetness while he looked at you with a stare that you swore could swallow you whole. and fuck, did it feel like everything around you was twirling on a carousel.

stars started to form in the corners of your eyes while one leg rested over his shoulder, giving him better access you suck you dry, tongue poking into your tight hole which you swear could cum at the way his tongue worked so beautifully up and down your pussy to the point it had its own heartbeat. your mind fogged to the point of realisation as it flashed back to the scene of the guards when they allowed you both to leave the death trap so quickly with just the nod of approval from in-ho. why would they do that? what validation of protection does this man have that nobody else does?

“h-hey.. in-ho?” you managed you gasp out over your wave of moans in which he hummed against your pussy, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “how did t-those guards just..” he thrusted his tongue so far up into your hole before you could even finish your sentence and you swore you felt you knees buck against his face at the movement, crying out a painful whimper.

his hand dug into the plush flesh of your ass as you grinded your pussy deeper into his face, pulling on his hair the same way his tongue pulled at the strings attached to your heart. riding out your orgasm, you felt your thighs clench around his pretty face that buried in between your legs as you sobbed so loud the entirety of the security guards could probably hear the joyful cries you let out.

with wobbly knees and a head filled with fairies you wrenched your eyes closed, feeling yourself let loose and finally reach the climax of your orgasm as you clenched around his tongue, your cum laced and coated his mouth.

“holy shit..” you panted harshly, chest dropping and rising at rapid speed while in-ho’s face pulled away slowly from your pussy, his glossy lips twisting into a grin before he brought his thumb to the corner of his mouth, licking away any residue you left on his face.

“you taste sweeter than i thought, baby.” his beautiful dark eyes took the view of you in awe, admiring the way your forehead beaded with sweat, eyebrows knotted in satisfaction as you ran your fingers through his hair.

slowly he rose to his feet, taking his finger he sucked out of his mouth with a small pop before tucking a loose strand of your messy hair behind your ear, smiling that sweet smile you remembered and adore all too well.

and just as quickly as he came to scroop you away, he left just as slick without a word, adjusting his shirt on the way out and leaving you alone in the bathroom, trousers bunched at your ankles.

“what the fuck just happened.”

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[inmaki]

number one sorcerer (and virgin) .

synopsis: req! in which your boyfriend — notorious for boasting about how good he is in bed — turns out to be all bark and no bite (until you give him some guidance, at least).

pairing: virgin!switch!gojo x f!reader

wc: est. 6k?

incl: unprotected sex, pull-out method, lots of dirty talk, a bit of teaching gojo, petnames, manhandling, size kink, clit play, praise kink, edging (himself), teasing, mocking, fingering, oral (f + slight m), cum swallowing

a/n: ty for awakening smtn in me anon it was nice to be writing a full fic again!! hope im not too rusty,, this is straight up filth tho so mdni

back when satoru and you were just friends, he liked to make it very clear to your circle of peers that he wasn’t just good at sex.

no, according to himself, he was some kind of sex god — to match his power level in sorcery, of course.

and obviously, who was anyone to think otherwise? the great gojo satoru; such a cocky and confident demeanour paired with angelic white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a tall sculpted body that other guys at the gym double-take at. him..? a virgin? hah! good one.

satoru believes that he’s done a rather spectacular job at keeping his reputation sky-high.

the only problem was.. now he had a girlfriend with high expectations to please.

since the day you’d gotten together — going multiple months strong — satoru was starting to sweat more and more knowing that his rather crucial fabrication was bound to be brought up sooner or later. you had your needs just like him, and satoru wouldn’t blame you if you were a bit worried about why he hasn’t initiated anything; y’know, since he was supposedly eros in human form and all that.

little did you know your boyfriend felt equally frustrated. for slightly different reasons.

“bro, it’d be hot if she was a virgin, but me?!” flopping back against the armrest, gojo lets out a theatrical groan while his best friend — the only other person to know of his dark secret — snickers against the cushions nearby.

“everything’d be fine if you didn’t pretend to be some incubus that makes girls cum with a snap of his finger,” geto quips unhelpfully.

satoru lifts his head, sneering when he realizes that the raven-haired man was much too busy scrolling on his phone to notice how he’s resting a pair of dirty shoes on his white couch. “that would be pretty cool..” when he only receives a disgusted glance, he huffs, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable as his thoughts wander further. “how’m i even gonna tell her? what if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”

at last, suguru looks up with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “you know y/n isn’t like that. just.. wait for her to initiate something and go with the flow,” he advises, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“you find a way to be good at everything, anyway, toru. she’ll be begging for you in no time.”

as usual, geto knows him too well, because those last few words have gojo shooting up from the sofa with a grin. “ya think so?”

“hell yeah, man.” the two idiots end the discussion by dapping each other up, a confident gleam in both of their eyes.

only a couple days later, satoru discovers that going with the flow isn’t as easy as suguru advised. with your plush lips sucking his bottom one through occasional moans, along with a delicate pair of nails scratching perfectly at his undercut, he already felt himself getting breathless and aroused like a teenager.

perhaps you’ve put him under a spell; how is it that he lasts through prolonged battles while barely breaking a sweat, but having your cute hand move to rub up on his abs and pecs send his nerves into overdrive? it wasn’t like making out wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, this time it just felt so passionate with the way your hips moved to straddle his, tongue practically begging for entrance while the movie on screen was left long forgotten.

gojo can’t help but groan as your muscle explores his mouth, core ever so smoothly grinding on his bulge and igniting heat through his entire body. even as you pull away to take a breath, his grip on your waist remains stable as if you’d disappear at any moment— growing even tighter with the way you bore into his eyes hungrily. “satoru..”

your unusually seductive voice makes him audibly gulp. “y— yeah?” he whispers, glancing to the hand thats now moving down over his grey sweats. shit, this was too much, was he dreaming? he should do something, pinch himself before—

“touch me, please?” as you voice your request, you squeeze his dick so nicely that satoru swears he nearly explodes in his boxers.

he swallows, words getting lost in his throat. “i— i uh...”

for the first time in history, satoru has been rendered speechless, and you visibly panic at this realization. yet when you try to carefully maneuver off his lap and give him space, the clutch on your waist intensifies. “what— are you okay? what’s wrong?” you murmur, brows creasing with concern.

though you never brought it up, satoru’s worry about your confusion was correct; you’d been expecting him to jump your bones a week into your relationship, but seeing how he never forced anything and remained respectful was cute.. at first. after a month of rejection and being pushed away whenever things got too heated, insecurities were bound to start brewing inside you.

he better have a damn good explanation.

“i’m fine,” he reassures, “it’s just— i should probably tell you something..” refusing to meet your eyes, the sorcerer resorts to drawing shapes against the skin under your t-shirt. in other situations, this would feel soothing, relaxing even — but currently, his lacking and lingering touch made you want to rip the hairs off your head.

all you wanted was to finally get a taste of your steaming hot boyfriend. what could he possibly need to say right now? you ponder, hasn’t he been dying to finally show off how amazing he is in bed?

“yes..?”

“it’s actually a funny story, ahaha..” he stalls, chuckling nervously as you turn his jaw to make eye contact. a feeling of impatience and neediness pulls through you, but you contain yourself with a deep breath.

“spit it out, satoru.”

there was no going back now, right? “so.. i’ve uh— i’ve never actually done this before.”

you blink.

“you’re a virgin?”

it was difficult to believe your own words; it sounded wrong no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it. satoru being inexperienced? the satoru with a rock hard 6 pack? the satoru with biceps that bulge out of his shirts and a face sharp enough to be sculpted by aphrodite herself? your satoru?

it sounded ridiculous, but the ugly pout rising across his lips tells you that it wasn’t a prank after all. “hey, don’t call me that, now it sounds way worse!”

a sigh escapes your lips, arms folded across your chest. “so all those never have i ever games and stories you told about one night stands were— mph!" before you know it, a large hand is covering your mouth.

“listen, how about we talk about this after having some fun?” a surprisingly determined gleam shines in your boyfriend’s icy blue eyes, making your thighs clench together in excitement.

who were you to say no to that?

—

next thing you know, pillows support your back as a shirtless satoru lies directly in front of your clothed crotch, hot breath making you wiggle around impatiently.

“jus— just take it off me, toru. so damn slow—“

“baby,” he scolds, looking genuinely upset, “this is my first time seeing a pussy in real life and you’re ruining it with your lack of patience.”

you can only roll your eyes and groan, head flopping back against the cushions in boredom. there was no way to predict how satoru’s first time would go, but you never expected it’d be this agonizing on your end — nor that he’d be so bossy.

though luckily, after another deep breath, your panties are gently tugged down your legs, and satoru can only inhale as he watches your poor hole clench around nothing. it only made sense that after all that dry humping and making out that your neediness increased, and it didn’t help that you could clearly see the way satoru was not only rock hard, but much bigger than average through his grey sweats.

“ooh.. oh shit..” like the invasive pervert he is, satoru moves even closer to the point where your thighs rest on his muscular shoulders before taking two fingers to spread your lips apart. this way, he has a clear view of the place that needs him most, and it makes a furious blush blossom on your cheeks.

“s— satoru.. what are you doing?” now you felt like the virgin, desperately attempting to shut your legs with no avail. damn this big idiot and his strength.

suddenly, his piercing eyes snap up to you, a feral look in his gaze. “shit, how’m i gonna fit in this little hole?”

you can’t deny the way his dirty words does something to you — not that you’d ever admit it. “that’s why you gotta prep me, toru. y’know..” you gulp, “fingering, or like.. eating me out.”

in response, you get a cheshire grin. “sounds fun. show me how you do it, sweets.”

“w-what?”

satoru leans back, attemping to hold in a mischievous smile. “how else am i gonna learn?”

even masturbating alone makes you flush in slight embarassment, so doing it in front of someone else — your cheeky, shamleess boyfriend no less — had you drowning in nerves. the bigger problem was that his words held a strong point; you’re supposed to be teaching him for his first time and ensuring it’s as enjoyable as possible.

these reminders make you mumble out a gentle fine, breath stuttering as you spread your legs further for the man in front of you.

satoru is now resting his weight on the palms of his hands, looking laid back and relaxed, but evidently still focused at the way your fingers move to unclasp your bra with skill. “damn..” as your tits are freed, he finds himself needing to adjust his sweatpants and nearly letting out a pathetic noise you would definitely tease him for.

you gulp, trying to ignore his blatant gawking. “it’s good to.. y’know, tease a bit before getting straight to it. makes it feel better — for me, at least,” you explain while massaging your chest, hiding surprise at the way he sternly nods in understanding.

now that you think about it, something tells you this is the most focused satoru has ever been in a learning environment.

after a bit more pinching and fondling, your hands slide down to your stomach and thighs, trying to get your breathing to relax. having gojo watch you do something so private was.. surreal, but you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet before, if that meant anything.

once you finally move down to your most intimate part, satoru takes a deep breath. he watches as you use your fingers to reveal a small bundle of nerves, pulsing and desperate for attention. “this is the clit, toru. s’very important.”

his eyes light up. “oh, i know that one!” he announces proudly, “i remember suguru saying i have to.. uh, worship it or something.”

you snicker at the thought of geto giving out sex pointers. “mhm, sometimes penetration isn’t enough, so you need to give it attention or i can’t really finish.”

gently, you start massaging the bud in circles, humming at the feeling of finally getting some type of relief. you move down to your hole to collect some of your wetness before bringing it back up, letting out a moan in satisfaction.

the way satoru licks his lips as you finally plunge a finger into your wetness has you shivering, but you remind yourself that for now, this was simply a demonstration and that you’d get a taste of him later.

after adding another, you attempt to reach your sweet spot by curling upwards, but it seems that even your hopelessly inexperienced boyfriend could tell that it was getting nowhere.

“aw,” he pouts teasingly, “lil’ fingers can’t reach anything, huh?”

“shut— shut up, satoru.”

before you know it, he’s moved onto his stomach again, face to face with your pussy and gripping your now soaked fingers. “you use these pathetic things when y’masturbate, huh? imagining my dick while having such tiny fingers up your cunt? kinda offended, babe..”

you feel your tummy flip, where did he learn to talk like that?

“do you have to be so vulg—“ you’re cut off by a choking gasp as a warm, wet muscle licks a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit.

“thanks for the lesson. ‘think i got it from here,” is all satoru says before he’s diving in, slurping up as much of your essence as possible before latching his plush lips right onto your poor little clit.

you can’t help but wiggle around at the jump in stimulation, but that only lasts about five seconds before a muscular arm presses you firmly against the mattress, rendering you trapped and unable to escape to his ministrations.

“hey, slow down!” your words are coincidentally yelped out right as he wiggles a much bigger finger into you. it explores your insides eagerly, caressing and feeling up what satoru believes will be his new favourite place.

“wow..” sluuurp, “so warm n’ soft in here..” he happily mumbles against your pussy. the vibrations of his now deeper voice shoot through you like electricity, eliciting another choked whine from your throat.

it felt like he was just toying with you; looking way too content drinking up everything you offered, fluid rushing down his chin and nose pushed firmly against your pelvis to inhale your scent.

suddenly, he’s jabbing his fingertip right into that pocket of sunshine that makes your eyes roll back, a loud whimper leaving your throat before you could stop it. “satoru, right there!” he swiftly seperates from your clit just to mumble out a here? in confirmation, prodding your sweet spot over and over in record breaking speed.

when you nod, he grins smugly, now adding another finger to stretch you further. “mmmph, this is pretty fun. could lie here all night.”

luckily, you barely process his words, much too busy enjoying the best finger-fuck of your life — and this was only his first time, you remember, what will the bastard do to you once he’s got some practice in?

a shaking hand tumbles into his snowy locks, attempting to pull him back weakly. “wait, m’gonna cum, toru—“

gojo growls almost animalistically, tugging your hand back onto the sheets. “then fuckin’ do it,” he demands. “c’mon, i’ve earned it, right?” then, he sucks even harder, fingers slamming and curling and making the loudest squelch you’ve ever heard.

“see?” he continues, “lil’ cunt wants to cum so bad for me. knows who 'er owner is already.” his filthy words definitely take part in the way your orgasm hits like a train, body shaking and toes curling as you let the feeling of bliss take over you. you flinch at how swiftly his tongue licks up everything you give him, the fingers in his hair tugging harder in overstimulation.

“toruuuuu..”

he simpers, tasting his cum-covered lips. “yeeees?”

“this— this is your first time, i should be making you feel good.”

slowly but surely, your eyes reopen, meeting your boyfriend’s relaxed gaze as he rubs your thigh affectionately. “dunno what you’re talking about, i felt pretty good just now.” when you only pout further, he snickers, pushing some of his bangs back smoothly. “c’mon, there’s lots of time for you to get me off later. m’ too excited for the main event..”

at last, he reaches for his sweatpants, more than excited to tug them down and finally give his aching cock some freedom. satoru doesn’t think he’s ever had a more painful boner in his life, but it was all worth seeing you release all over his tongue and fingers.

right as he finishes untying the knot, pale fingers drifting up to the waistband, you’re smacking him away to make room for your own hands. he watches with an open mouth as you pull his boxers down along with his pants, leaky, hard cock springing free and nearly hitting you in the face.

shit, of course his dick is perfect too. with a bit of white hair at the base, bulging veins adorned the entirety of his massive length, and the tip — shit, the tip was even bigger than the rest, mushroom shaped and angry red. his balls looked equally agitated and full — the epitome of breeder balls, and you gulped at the thought of him filling you up with everything they had.

now his question from earlier made sense, and he seems to be enjoying the realization on your face from his spot kneeling on the bed. “like what’cha see?” he coos, one big hand lowering to relieve the aching in his balls.

“toru, i don’t know if you’ll even fit. why— why do you have to be so big?” it’s annoying, you want to say — but the white-haired man has already laid back and manhandled you onto his chiseled stomach, a yelp escaping you at his suddenness.

he’s smiling so hard at your little dilemma that it’s almost sick, hands resting behind his head cockily. “tell me more while you ride me, baby.”

after processing that all you’ve been doing is feeding his size kink and inflating his already massive ego, you frown. “i’m serious, toru!”

“what!? i’m serious too!” the man defends with fake innocence, blue eyes shining in glee. “you’re the expert here, remember? ‘supposed to be teaching me how it’s done.”

all you do is grumble whilst moving down to sit between the sorcerer’s thighs, lightly prepping him with your fist and a dribble of spit from your mouth that has the white-haired male biting his lip. “fuck..” satoru can’t recall how many times he’s masturbated to the mental image of this exact moment, but now that it was finally happening, he promised himself to savor it as much as possible.

when you move to finally straddle him, hole hovering just above his length, he begins bucking his hips up desperately. “hurryyy…”

“are you in heat or something?” you snort, giving him a dirty glare as if you weren’t about to let him inside you.

“for you? yeah.” satoru offers you a cheesy wink and grin that dissipates the second your warmth encloses his aching tip. his hands slowly move up to grip your waist, jaw clenching in an attempt to not slam you down to his balls right then.

“ngh… fuuuck, baby,” he groans as you ever so carefully move down another inch. “jesus.. you’re sooo damn tight. dunno’ how you’re even taking me..”

you squeeze your eyes shut in attempt to bare the discomfort for him, a slight crease growing between your brows. “satoru, fuck— hurts..” he immediately reopens his eyes in worry, searching for a way to take your pain away.

yes, he could already tell that he enjoyed being meaner with you in bed — but it’s never fun if you don’t feel good as well. though he luckily recalls your lesson from earlier, moving a soft thumb down to massage your clit in tight circles.

when you jolt and nearly faceplant into his neck, he only grins proudly, now using one veiny hand to help push you further onto him. “theeere we go.. aw, feel better?”

“mhm, feels full..” you mumble back, looking down to see that you — unbelievably — still had a couple inches to go.

satoru feels like he’s about to burst on the other hand, thriving in pure ecstasy at the feeling of your walls massaging him just perfectly. he can’t help but thrust up and force his last inches inside you, an echoing smack! of skin against skin singing through the room and eliciting a startled yelp from your throat.

“toru!” despite your scolding, you can’t deny the perfection in which his tip kissed your g-spot effortlessly. his hands felt ever so soothing, comfortingly running up and down as you sat impaled on his cock, wiggling around to get comfortable and ruining him in the process.

just as you start to adjust, you feel yourself being lifted up. “m’ sorry sweets..” gojo suddenly voices, “i can’t..”

“huh? what do you m—ah!” you’re flipped onto your back before you know it, knees resting on the shoulders of your boyfriend who has a gleam in his pupils that you’ve quite frankly never seen before; he looked feral.

satoru carefully pulls out until only his tip is encased in your warmth, and everything is calm for a moment. you both take a deep breath, and he smiles down at your already fucked-out face with pride. “satoru—“

then he’s pushing back in with all the strength his massive hips can produce, and you think if it weren’t for his hands wrapped around your thighs, you would’ve got pushed off the bed entirely. you unintentionally let out the loudest sound of the night, and this sets him off.

now he was getting brutal, bullying your cunt with hit after hit against the spot that has drool dripping down your cheek and eyes crossing. you can’t even stop the pathetic noises and symphonies of right there! that leave your lips, no matter how hot your cheeks flush in embarrassment. it felt as though every time his dick jabbed back in he was right up in your tummy, veins pulsing and ensuring your pussy is molded to the perfect sleeve for him.

“toru, shit— nghh, faster, please! feels s’good!”

“nghh, toru, faster! ahaha..” he mocks you — of course he does, but picks up the pace nonetheless — now holding your lower body up so that your knees dangle higher over his shoulders and each stroke is angled exactly where you want him. “so cute when you’re gettin’ stuffed full, baby.”

he leers as you send him the harshest expression you can manage, reaching down for your clit and giggling as you start squirming in an attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. this bastard is having way too much fun, you realize, moans being forced out of you almost tauntingly.

tonight you discover that satoru’s way of fucking is rather animalistic, frantic, thrilling, and with the sole purpose of making you both feel as good as possible. if you want him to go slow or make love to you, you’d probably have to ask beforehand — or perhaps tie him up so you could have your fun in peace.

if your insides weren’t being rearranged, you’d grin at the thought of your boyfriend restrained and at your mercy. another night, you promise yourself.

“tightest pussy ever f’my first time baby.. haah.. can’t believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.” for once, something praising comes out of his big mouth, breathes getting cut short every time you involuntarily squeeze him harder. he swears there’s no better feeling then what you were giving him right now, not even singlehandedly resurrecting himself using the reversed curse technique.

and while no injuries have ever left a scar on gojo satoru, he decides that the claw marks you’re ruthlessly digging into his back will stay as long as his body allows — why should he hide how good he’s made you feel despite being a virgin an hour prior?

maybe if he’s in the mood to brag, he’ll show them to suguru later.

“feels good toru, fuckin’ me so good,” you feel the way his whole body reacts to your praises, a deep growl melting from his lips as the sounds of skin slapping increasingly grows in volume.

“babyyy,” he pants, legs being held higher while he digs deeper into your guts, “m’gonna cum.. need you to cum with me.“ the twitching of his length inside you gave away the fact that gojo has practically been on the edge ever since he pushed into you — and while he knows it’s completely normal to cum prematurely on your first time, when has he ever not gone above expectations?

in a split second you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, veiny hands pushing you into a deep arch while your boyfriend gives his body a moment to relax, pinching his base (a rather perverted method he’s learned by edging himself while masturbating) between his thumb and pointer.

when you needily wiggle your hips in an attempt to find his cock again, he grins boyishly. “lookin’ for this?” he sings the words right before plunging his entire length back into you, abusing your g-spot while a lanky finger impressively finds the bud between your legs right away (a skill that most ‘experienced’ men you’ve previously been with fail to achieve), circling and pinching in a frantic attempt to make your orgasms arrive in sync.

“fucking hell.." you whine, the new angle making his tip bump against spots that have never been rubbed before. “can feel you so deep..”

“oh yeah?” his bicep pulls you up so your head rests on his broad shoulder, now victim to the filth being whispered directly into your ear. “m’ i doing good? fuckin’ this lil’ pussy nice and deep like she needs?”

when you nod, he beams like a maniac, seemingly encouraged to pound you even harder as his hips pick up the pace. “damn, ‘think i’m already a pro at this, huh?”

for the sake of your sanity, you ignore his bragging. “toru, don’t stop. i’m— i’m gonna..”

“you’re gonnaaa?” he derides, kissing the corner of your lip sweetly. “tell me, baby.”

“gonna cum for you, please.” satoru almost decides to fill you up at those words, but his self control is just a bit stronger. he feels the way your cunt is pulsing, body practically shaking as you get closer and closer to release, and he’s determined to help you reach it.

his thrusts get a bit sloppier, and you’re too busy basking in your own pleasure to see the eye-candy that is gojo biting his swollen lips, sweat dripping down his temples all the way to his solid abs, snowy bangs a tad bit moist against his forehead. he looked like the definition of temptation; straight out of a wet dream with stamina that seemingly never declined.

“me too, baby. c’mon, cum on this dick. s’all yours to ruin.”

you moan as you allow yourself to let go, toes curling and nails digging into his toned forearms ecstatically. “thaaat’s it, good girl.. ahah.. such a good girl f’me.” he talks you through it as if he’s done so a million times, both of you looking down to watch your release coat his dick and the crumpled sheets below.

at his praise, you squeeze him just a bit tighter, making his lips curl up in interest. “my girl likes being praised, huh? yeah.. doing so good makin’ a mess on me..”

he pulls out, carefully lowering you to the mattress before tugging on his dick in hopes of reaching his own peak. satoru forces himself to open his eyes just enough to admire the view of you fucked out below him, body shaking slightly as you recover from the intense waves of your orgasm.

“y/n,” he abruptly whines, patting your shoulder with a subtle urgency in his voice.

“..mhmm?”

“where can i cum? quick baby— please, i’ve been holding this for way too long—“ this has your body moving, eyes popping open as you swiftly bend down so your mouth hovers directly in front of him.

you replace his fist with yours as soft lips move to suckle harsly on his leaking tip, and now it’s gojo who has his eyes rolling back; whimpers flying out of his throat every time your tongue massages the delicate underside, sending visible shocks through his body. “fuck!” he can only curse and run his fingers through your hair for support while you pump him dry. “just like that, good.. haah.. good fuckin’ girl, shiiit.”

you’ve never seen your boyfriend — the strongest — look so pathetic and desperate, but it only spurs you on further, enjoying the way he continues to blabber about how pretty you are and how he’s gonna fill your mouth like he would your pussy. in response, you greedily hum around him, licking through his slit as if you were pleading the little hole to give you what you deserved.

and only moments later, satoru’s words become reality; though he attempts to keep revelling in the feeling of your warm lips and hands, his body stills in place instinctively, one last warning tumbling out of his throat as your mouth is flooded with rope after rope of bitterly sweet fluid.

it seems like your accusations about his breeder balls were correct, because once it starts it seemingly never ends; cum now overflowing from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow frequently enough to not choke on how much he deposits.

meanwhile, gojo feels like he is quite literally ascending, everything becoming unimportant next to you and the feeling of pleasure being forced through him like an overwhelming earthquake, pulse after pulse as you suck him for all he’s worth.

“thas’ right.. take every damn drop, baby.” when satoru looks down and earns a glimpse of the white fluid trickling down your chin, his dick twitches in your mouth. “god, you’re so sexy..”

once he was done, you both flop onto the bed in exhaustion, and while the vulnerable moment has utmost potential to become something cute and memorable, a certain blue-eyed bastard decides to open his mouth once again.

“what’re you huffin’ and puffin’ for?” he sasses, shamelessly eyeing the way your tits rose and fell with every breath you took. “all you did was lie there while i had a full body workout!”

you take a very deep breath. “i just let you put your dick inside me. shut the fuck up.”

at your reminder of what’d just occurred, he grins like an idiot. “you’re right, thank you.” they’re soft, but he ensures his words are as audible and genuine as he can make them.

satoru isn’t exactly the best with words, but he knows damn well that — despite all the bullshit he'd spouted at those parties — you’re the only person he wanted to have his first time with, and the fact that you allowed his wish to become reality is something he’ll forever be grateful for.

“i love you..” you soften. “even if you’re a pillow princess.” you stiffen again.

nothing could stay lovey-dovey with him for too long.

a fake cry is pulled from his lips as you rudely smack his shoulder. “i tried to ride you but you flipped me over after ten seconds!”

“it’s not my fault you're as slow as a fuckin' snail!”

somehow, you both make it to the washroom despite all the banter. just as you bend over in hopes of starting the shower up, a mean spank is delivered to your ass.

when you turn to meet the culprit, he only narrows his eyes at you playfully. “round two, m’lady?” it’s almost like his voice lowers on purpose, dirty words rumbling in his throat, knowing what it did to your body.

you do your best to send him a disappointed glance anyway. “day one of not being a virgin and you’re already the horniest man i know.”

after following you inside, his fluffy hair flattens from the steamy water before nudging you back, encasing you between him and the solid wall.

“i might be willing to overlook the fact that you know other horny men if you agree to some very loving, extremely intimate making out,” he requests with a smirk, sleek nose poking yours in a much gentler way than expected.

you still send him a distrusting raise of your brow. “only making out, huh?”

the dirty smirk he sends you is all you need to know, along with his hardened dick pressing against your thigh as he moves in to kiss you.

what have you gotten yourself into?

mlist! gojo showing off his back scratches! <- if you enjoy silly virgin gojo pls lmk in the reblogs, comments, or asks <3

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tags: @gojoallmine @allofffmypeaches @haitaniholic @pandoraium