#killing your enemies in the name of love!!!!!

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection - Day 1: Angst With A Happy Ending

Darling, in any life (WIP) | @keiro (ao3 username) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27,810 Main Tags/Warnings: post canon, endverse castiel, human castiel, dom/sub undertones, bottom dean/top castiel, castiel has ptsd, touch starved dean winchester Summary: “You better kill me now!” Dean screams. Lucifer turns back. “Pardon?” “You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop.” “I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Sam." Lucifer takes a step closer, briefly looking around the graveyard. “Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up—here. I win. So, I win.” Dean shakes his head, holding back his rage. “You're wrong.” Lucifer smiles. “See you in five years, Dean.” . Ten years later, right after blacking out on that rebar, Dean wakes up in a dusty, rotten hotel room. It doesn’t take him too long to find out that he's in what looked like 2014, but not the 2014 he lived in. It’s the 2014 that’s not supposed to exist.

Copper Roses | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 45,942 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hanahaki Disease, Love Confessions, Curse Breaking, Themes of Terminal Illnesses, Angst with Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Skipable smut Summary: Dean is sick. Has been sick for a few days – ever since they came off their last hunt – and all looks hopelessly bleak as more blood-soaked petals clog his airways. Hanahaki disease is a deadly curse that sees flowers grow and bloom inside a person whose heart is filled with a romantic love for another and the only way to cure it is to have that love returned to them. But Dean is adamant that this person doesn’t love him back and he refuses to speak their name. If Castiel’s words would impact his condition he would say them loud and proud every day, but that's impossible. There is no way Dean could be in love with a broken-fallen angel. He wishes he was the one who contracted the wretched curse just to take away Dean’s burden, he can't stand watching the man he loves wither and die right before his eyes and will do whatever it takes to see Dean get that cure, even if it means breaking his own heart in the process.

Filing Off the Serial Numbers | @WhoIPretended2b Rating: Mature Word Count: 41,878 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Fanfiction Writer Dean Winchester, Fanfiction Writer Castiel, Academic Rivals to Lovers, Charlie Bradbury & Castiel Friendship, Castiel & Meg Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Charlie Bradbury & Castiel are Roommates, Enemies to Lovers Summary: Castiel Shurley doesn’t understand why an engineering major keeps showing up in his upper-level creative writing classes. He knows part of having a liberal arts education is taking things outside of your major, but who takes 400-level English courses for fun? And even more galling, his classmates keep gushing about his short stories. You would think Dean Winchester is the next Isaac Asimov. Then Castiel finally gets assigned to peer edit one of Dean’s short stories… and he recognizes it. To be fair, it’s a great story. Too bad Dean didn’t write it. He stole it—lifted straight from a fanfic, with the serial numbers barely filed off.

Rebirth | @thisisapaige Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 24,218 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Creature Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nature Magic Animal Death (it's a mercy killing), Grief/Mourning , Fire, Enemies to Friends to Lovers (the enemies is short lived), Pining Summary: The Lawrence villagers say that there's something in the woods somewhere. Something big. Something scary. Something that will swallow your children whole if they venture inside. No one who goes in comes back out. Mary Winchester builds her farm at the edge of the woods to raise her two sons. Her youngest, Sam Winchester, born with weak lungs, always stares into the trees. It's as if it's calling him. Not long after Mary succumbs to the fever ravaging through the village, Sam walks into the woods and disappears. Dean grieves the loss of his family. Suffering the same illness that took his mother, Dean hears a scream on a dark winter's night. It's a scream he cannot ignore. He runs into the trees to investigate. Something is watching Dean. He can feel it. The creature is coming for him. Dean expects to die, expects to be eaten, expects to become one of the cautionary tales exchanged by the villagers. But Castiel, the creature of the woods, is nothing like Dean's expectations.

Phantasma | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 30,934 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, Stanford Era, Ghost Castiel, Hunter Dean Winchester, Paranormal Romance, Bad Parent John Winchester, Bad Parent Naomi, not major character death, Past Child Abuse (not physical) Summary: Dean doesn't have the guts to grab Sam from Stanford. Dean fails to find his missing dad. Dean can, however, hunt the ghost haunting his house. Yeah, Dean buys a haunted house. On purpose. After a quick salt and burn of the bitter old ghost of Naomi Novak, Dean can finally have something in his life go right. But the ghost isn't what Dean's expecting. The spirit he finds is a polite, broad shouldered, blue eyed man in a trench coat who, instead of throwing Dean through the window in a vengeful rage, asks Dean for help. Dean agrees to assist Castiel, the Friendly Ghost, with moving on to the next life. Cas isn't like any ghost Dean had ever met. The usual rules don't apply to him. He's kind to Dean. He loves books. His cold touch brings mortals close to death. The more time Dean spends with Cas, the less Dean wants to let him go. Cas is good company. Dean hasn't let himself get close to anyone in years. In a different life, Dean could have fallen in love with him. Or maybe he already has.

midnight cowboy | @gracefreakdean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,534 Main Tags/Warnings: Pre-Series!Dean, Prostitution, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Worth Issues, Internalized Homophobia, Time Skips, Hurt/Comfort, Gay!Dean, Dean/Others, Underage Sex, and Graphic Depictions of Violence Summary: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥. Dean's relationship with sex, ages seventeen-and-a-half to forty-one.

Shifting States | @artemis-73 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18,493 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Self-Sacrificing Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dreams, Angst Summary: For 29 years, Dean has lived an ordinary life with a normal, if dysfunctional, family. That changes when he starts having strange, vivid dreams about monsters, the apocalypse, and a man with piercing blue eyes. In his search for answers, he will go down a path that threatens everything he's ever known.

Physical Graffiti | @entropic-saudade Rating: Explicit Word Count: 62,894 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Self-Harm, Alcoholism, Aftermath of Violence, PTSD, Past Sexual Assault, Past Drug Addiction, Minor Character Death, Child Abuse, Murder Mystery, Recreational Drug Use, Inspired by Sharp Objects Summary: The only ghosts and demons are the ones inside his head. Fresh from a prematurely-ended stint at an inpatient psychiatric facility, ‘former’ self-harmer and functional alcoholic Dean Winchester returns to Sioux Falls, where he works as a crime journalist. His editor, Bobby Singer, sends him back home to Lawrence to gather the story on the murder of a teen boy and the recent disappearance of another. Painful memories from growing up resurface, and the investigation is further complicated by the town’s gossipy tight-knit nature, Dad’s judgment, and botched attempts at making inroads with his estranged half-family, Kate and Adam Milligan. Dean crosses paths with Castiel Novak, a renegade detective from Kansas City with a troubled past of his own. They work together, slipping past each other’s facades, digging down toward the truth. As it turns out, monsters just might be real—and they just might live at home.

Here's to Never Growing Up | @GhoulsnHalos (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 51,236 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate universe, rock star!Dean, Journalist!Cas, Second chances, mentions of alcohol abuse, misunderstandings, Time skip fic, eventual happy ending, oral sex, frottage, team switch, gaslighting—mostly offscreen (not by Cas or Dean) Summary: Journalist Castiel Novak's love life is a complete mess. Dean Winchester is the poster boy for booze, sex, and rock'n'roll. A decade ago, while working at Les Troubadours, they fell in love; however, after Dean's band opened for Vince Vincente, a disagreement and misunderstandings caused a bitter split. Their paths haven't crossed since. What happens now Dean's about to go solo and Castiel, under a pen name, has to interview him for Rock SoundZ magazine? How is any of this relevant to Fergus MacLeod (AKA: Crowley) Dean's manager?

A Driver Worth His Salt | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 67,834 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Setting AU, Crimes and Criminals, BAMF Castiel, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Pining, Top Castiel/ Bottom Dean, Mafia, Cars Summary: Twenty-year-old Dean Winchester hates fixing up stolen cars on the side for Gordon Walker. But with his grandfather’s dry-cleaning business slowly dying, medical bills piling up, and his younger brother Sam abandoning the prospect of attending college because of their grim situation, Dean convinces himself that it isn’t as reckless as it seems. When everything goes belly up, leaving him in a troubling position with the wrong people, a representative of the Garrisons, the city’s most powerful and notorious family, offers Dean to help him with his situation in exchange for his employment. The job is simple: drive the passenger a few times a week to yet-undisclosed locations and return with said passenger without fail. Don’t ask questions. Be on time. Be discreet. And never interact with each other outside of work. Shady, but simple. So, he accepts. But once he meets the passenger in question—the sharply dressed and rough-looking Castiel Novak—Dean finds that abiding those rules may be more complicated than he had anticipated.

Euphonious | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 44,190 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Settings AU, Castiel's Voice, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Family Issues, Bad Parent Mary Winchester, Self-Worth Issues, Abandonment Issues, Dean Has a Crush on Castiel, Book Club, Top Castiel/ Bottom Dean Summary: Between dealing with family drama and feeling discouraged by the dating scene, Dean, more than ever, craves the comfort of his secret guilty pleasure: spicy gay romance audiobooks, particularly those narrated by the enigmatic and sensuous CJ Novak. But Dean has more than one secret and when he unexpectedly overhears the titillating voice of his favourite narrator at a bookstore one day, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he desperately wants an introduction. The only problem is that he tends to turn into a complete mumbling disaster in front of handsome men. And his favourite narrator? He’s as dreamy as they come.

Take Me Out to the Pacific | @seidenapfel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,895 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Episode: s14e08 Byzantium (Supernatural), Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Suicidal Ideation, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Mind Sex, Ma'lak Box (Supernatural), endgame human cas Summary: With an archangel confined in his head, Dean takes the only sensible step: Splash. Buried alive at the bottom of the Pacific, he will be doomed, but the world will be saved. As he seals his fate, Dean starts to talk, to pray. Even though Cas won't be able to hear him, it helps Dean calm himself. For the first time, he pours out his heart, when, all of the sudden, Cas answers. All too aware of Cas' secret deal with the Shadow, Dean knows that if he ever is to be rescued, it will be Cas' death sentence.

Eight Coils and a Length of Rope | @seidenapfel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,402 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Western, Spaghetti Western, Strangers to Lovers, Hanging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester Summary: Freedom is a length of rope and God wants you to hang yourself with it. Well, unless others do it for you.

Dream of Happiness | @casualdistance Rating: General Word Count: 1,993 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Gabriel, Hannah, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Noble/Peasant, Grief, Food Issues, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Character Death, Past Gabriel/Kali (Supernatural) Summary: Castiel is to marry, ordered to do so by his brother and his King, but the one Castiel wishes to marry is the one he cannot.

[mrblackhood234]

BLOOD & LOVE Part 1

(Vamp!Kazuha X MaleReader)

In this world full of Supernatural beings, human have struggled for years living in this wretched world as time goes by, they started fighting back not wanting to be threatened anymore and be under the rulings of evil creatures they gathered everything, weaknesses, weapon, knowledge and skills. Human decided to become hunters, they had enough of being the prey they need to turn the tables around they want to prove to those evil creatures that can also be the predator. For years of training and learning everything hunters started coming out one by one and they manage to kill every creatures who threaten the human race, vampires are surprised to see that the humans are fighting back the creature that they thought are weak and helpless became the being who made they them feel threatened and their bases were slowly raided one by one and they lost grasp of the human race. They cannot let this keep going they started to start a war with humans and there was bloodshed everywhere.

Aside from those bloody encounters, love also bloomed, between a vampire and human but it is prohibited, they were hunted by both race, human and vampires some of those kind creatures dies by some of them survive. Due to being hunted, humans and vampires who sought for peace came altogether formed an alliance and build a place where they can be together and they are called "Peacemakers".

They fought both race who tried to harm their kinds but within those kinds, there was you, born from the race who were called hunters. Your family came from human race who were inside the hunter's kind, your family hated vampires they despise them even the peacemakers, they told you that never follow those stupid beliefs and they made sure that your following the hunter path but to you, you find it very amusing, vampires and humans together in one place and the way they fall in love with one another gathered your curiosity but you kept it hidden for you clan will not be pleased to hear it.

As a kid, you started getting curious on everything you see and hear and you decided to go outside hoping to meet one vampire from peacemakers. You told your parents that you'll just run around the empire and they let you for everyone in empire are in one and no one is going to make a grave for they will be killed mercilessly. You decided to sneak out of the empire, you manage to avoid the guards and you arrived outside and inhaled the fresh air, you saw forest nearby and decided to explore it, you hope to see a vampire from peacemakers but unfortunately you met a vampire from other clan, the clan who made the people suffer, you can recognize their armours and they saw you, a young kid all alone in the forest but instead of getting scared you were amaze by the beauty of one vampire

"A young boy?" She spoke as she walk towards you

She was tall, beautiful and has a slender build and she was smiling showing her sharp fangs and crimson red eyes

"Hello cutie, are you lost?" She said

"your majesty" soldier spoke

"Just a moment Gans" she said

"Oh my god, a beautiful goddess" you said

She chuckles "I like that young boy, but you see I'm no goddess and I'm not that kind as you think"

"Well you must be a vampire princess" you said

"Well yes I am but I'm about to become a queen" she said

"Oh congratulations but I think we might be enemies" you said

"Well most likely" she said "Your name boy?"

"My name is Y/n, what about you beautiful princess?" You asked

"Kazuha, Nakamura Kazuha" Kazuha said and smile

"Man if I ever have the chance to marry someone, I'll definitely marry you" you said

Kazuha were surprised but she laughed "You don't know me honey, I'm much more evil than you think. You'll be digging your grave if you try to hit on me"

"What can I do to make you mine?" You asked

Kazuha were surprised but she liked your confidence and straightforwardness it made her curious on what kind of person you will become in the near future

"Become strong, worthy of me, defeat my four generals which Gans, Sullyoon, Haewon and Justin then defeat me and conquer my stolen base then I'll make your dreams come true and you will have me whenever you want to, I will be yours forever" Kazuha said

"Is that a promise?" You asked

"It's a promise and i don't break my promises" Kazuha said

"if you break it I'll take you by force!" You said

"Well then, go now little one" Kazuha then peck you near the lips "I'll see you soon"

You nodded and run away, Kazuha watch you as you disappear from her sight then she walk towards her soldiers.

"Are we just gonna let that kid go?" Gans asked

"Yes gans leave him be, I'm kinda curious on what kind of hunter he will become in the future" Kazuha said

"What if he really did what you just said, what are you gonna do your highness?" Sullyoon asked

"Then I manage to mold him into a fine mate, I'm getting tired of vampire males they don't excite me anymore I wonder what it taste like..... To feel a young blood full of ambition and strong will and having that kind of human in my grasp make me feel so excited and the way I'll make him do everything I want and repaying him with what he want is not so bad...." Kazuha said

"What if he manages to impregnate you... What will you do?" Haewon asked

Kazuha smirks "We'll see about that"

Kazuha and her soldiers walk away, you were so excited on becoming a strongest hunter and the words Kazuha left to you made you feel so motivated but little did you know Kazuha has very different plan in her mind.

You grew up and became a fine young warrior and with the basic knowledge of being a hunter, you were tasked to hunt a vampire, you smirks as you look at the document and decided to leave the guild hall. It's been six years since you last saw the vampire princess named Kazuha, you are now 15 years old. You arrived at the designated place and there he was, your first mission, he just finished drinking the blood of his victim and you unsheathed your sword.

The sound of metal screeching from unsheathing heard by the vampire as he turn his gaze towards you he then smiled wickedly as his eyes widened in excitement and you smirks and prepare yourself to fight him. He then pick up a sword from the ground and charges at you and you did the same. Sword clashes on each other and stare at each other eyes

"you seem strong kid" vampire said

"Not bad for a old man like you" you said

Then you push his sword away and swing downward but he deflected your sword swing upwards then you swing your sword vertically but he deflected it again and you started having a sword fight with him, swinging in every side, left, right, up, down, then spin and pushing him back then you jump and slash your sword down then up aiming to disarming him and the vampire were surprised to see how you fight he can see that you are still young but your exceptional skills shows how serious you are on being a hunter and he can see that your enjoying the fight then he manages to push you back.

"your strong kid, I like that" he said

"Well thank you for a compliment, and this kid will kill you" you said

"show me what you got kid! Don't disappoint me!" He then charges at you

And another sword fight came but this time, you guys are aiming to kill each other, he wounded you, you wounded him and he was surprised to see him not healing and he saw your sword, it was made to kill a vampire for real and he glared at you. He manage to wound you but it's not that deep due to his wounds that weakens him and you smiled widely preparing to kill him then you charged at him.

He knew your going to aim for his chest so he prepared to counter it but to his surprised at the moment you are about to go near him you changes stance and then cut his head off, it was fast that he didn't manage to move. He head roll through the ground and his body fell, you stood still and sheathed your sword you took an evidence that you finished the mission but suddenly a group of vampires came surprising you as they manage to wound your shoulder.

You back away and wince in pain and saw four vampires, they were holding a sword and one of them lick the blood on his blade.

"Where did this mother fuckers come from" you said and prepare to fight the vampires

They all charge at you and you prepare yourself. You started defending yourself from the attackers but they are so skilled and you are still not a veteran one so you are struggling to fight them all together but you won't back down that easily, you still remember the promise you have with Kazuha and this won't be your downfall.

You fought the vampire and manage to grasp of the situation and you started fighting back. The vampire were surprised to see you fight them and they started getting distracted, you manages to kill two of them but exhaustion came to you, you are covered in blood and you stabbed you sword to the ground to keep standing, panting heavily as you glare at the vampires

"your done now kid" man said

"I am not done, you want a piece of me...? Come and get it!" You said "I'll kill all of you and fulfill my promise to Queen Kazuha!"

The vampire were confused to hear her name from you

"Queen Kazuha? How did you know her name?" Man said

"like hell I'll tell you!" You said

"you don't need to, your gonna die" man said

The vampire charges at you but in a blink of a second, his sword were deflected by someone, he was surprised and look who it is and it was no other than the Queen herself.

"Your highness?!!" Man said

"Seems like your aiming for one of my subjects" Kazuha said

Sullyoon charges at the vampire so as Gans then he back away, Kazuha sheathed her sword and walk towards you, you were surprised to see the queen herself then she cupped your cheek

"My my, you grew up to a fine young man" Kazuha said

"Your highness" you said

"You look so cute.... I cannot wait to make you mine" Kazuha then lick the blood on your cheek

"Are you gonna kill me now?" You asked

"no honey.... We have so much to do but first stay still and let them handle this and return to your base" Kazuha said

"Your highness" you said

"Gans, Sullyoon, kill those vampires they tried to kill my y/n and they will pay for it" Kazuha eyes glowed red

"Understood your highness" Sullyoon said

Gans and Sullyoon prepared themselves to kill the vampires and they back away seeing the two general are about to kill them. Kazuha then look at you

"now where are we?" Kazuha smirks "I have a present for you honey"

"For me?" You asked

Kazuha remove her necklace and wear it to your neck. It was octagon shape made out of gold and has a blue marble in the center and has a moon design inside of it, you were surprised and look at Kazuha.

"Don't lost this necklace my love, this shows that you are my property and no vampire is allowed to touch you nor hurt you for they will face my wraith, you picked my interest young man I have high hopes for you" Kazuha said

"I will promise not to disappoint you" you said

"I know you won't, until then become the strongest hunter then I will come back for you and until then you are not allowed to love any other girl than me and I will be the one who will pop your cherry and no one else" Kazuha said "you got that sweetie?"

You blushed and nodded

"Good" Kazuha caresses your hair

Sullyoon and Gans killed the vampires and walk towards you and Kazuha, they bowed and Kazuha smiled at them

"Good work, we have to go now honey I'll see you soon" Kazuha said

"Take care your highness" you said

"I will, see you soon" Kazuha then peck your lips and they walk away

Sullyoon look at you and you were confused then she smirks and turn her gaze away from you. You were confused but you find her cute but you shook your head snapping yourself back and decided to went back to guild. Cheers, chattering and laughter can be heard from the door you pushed the door opened gathering their attention but they were surprised to see you full of wounds walking limply towards the counter.

"Y/n?!"

A young man named Jackson rush towards you along with a female named Haneul they are concerned and you gave them a smile and proceeded to the counter

"Here's the evidence on my mission" you said and handed him a bag

"let me see" old man said and opened the bag "great! Here's your 23 gold coins and 50 silvers, great work! You look pretty fucked up there"

"well there was this four skilled vampires ambushed me" you said

"you manage to kill them all!" Old man asked

"Only two of them someone killed the other two" you said

"oh and who's this saviour of yours?" Old man asked

"a beautiful lady" you said "she's a very powerful warrior"

"Ho? It made your heart skip a beat?" Old man said

"Very much" you said

"well then, go to the hospital and tend your wounds" old man said

"sure thing" you said

"let us escort you" haneul said

"thank you" you said

TO BE CONTINUED...

[andy-15-07]

Hi there! Can you write a HC for Joaquin Torres with younger reader who's an assassin and wears masquerade like outfit with a mask and all

And imagine her holding a fan which can be used as a weapon (think Kitana from MK)

Shadow & Wings

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 535 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way — I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

🎭 The Masquerade Maiden Your first assignment brought you both to an aristocratic gala. Draped in a midnight-blue cloak and an intricate filigree mask, you glided through the ballroom. Unbeknownst to the guests, the delicate fan in your hand concealed a lattice of razor blades. Joaquin spotted you from across the room—every movement deliberate, every step measured. By the time he reached the terrace, you had already dispatched two guards and melted into the night’s shadows.

🗡️ Fan of a Thousand Secrets Your fan is far more than ornamentation: its ribs hold micro-barbs for silent kills, its folds hide smoke pellets, and a concealed mechanism can unleash a concussive shockwave. In training, you demonstrate how a single flick can sever a lock or deflect a stun round. Joaquin’s mechanical wings have learned to anticipate your fan-strikes, weaving between steel and smoke to protect you when the plan unravels.

🌒 Midnight Rooftop Duels Under a sliver of moonlight, Joaquin challenges you to spar. You spin and pivot, the fan unfurling like a lethal blossom. His wings fold tight as he sidesteps, the city lights flickering below. He admires your precision––never a wasted motion––and you tease him when he nearly clips your elbow. Afterwards, he offers you water. You accept, allowing him this small victory.

💌 Whispered Comm Codes Communication aboard the Helicarrier required discretion. You devise a series of fan-based signals: a closed fan taps twice against the wrist to signal “all clear,” a single open-and-close means “fall back,” and a rapid bloom of steel blades warns of imminent danger. Joaquin integrates these into their field protocols, grinning when you correct his folding technique over encrypted coms.

🤝 The Unspoken Bond On an extraction in Prague, both of you are pinned by enemy fire. In the chaos, you spin your fan to create a smoke screen as Joaquin swoops in, cradling you behind his wings. You neither thank nor chastise—words feel superfluous. Instead, you offer a brief nod. He returns it with a firm squeeze of your shoulder, forging a bond stronger than any spoken promise.

📜 The Gift of Masks After a successful mission, Joaquin presents you with a custom-crafted mask: ivory with cobalt inlays, designed to fit over your own. Inside, he etches a small phoenix—a symbol of rebirth and partnership. You wear it on your next op, and for the first time, you sense he sees you as more than a contract: a true comrade.

🗓️ Stolen Moments at Dawn Post-mission fatigue sends you both to a quiet rooftop at sunrise. You lean against the low parapet, your fan folded and still. Joaquin sips his coffee, wings relaxed, and watches you watch the sky. He reaches across, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. Neither speaks; the soft glow of dawn is enough to seal your unspoken understanding.

❤️ From Shadows to Partners Over time, “Shadow” becomes less a code name and more a title of respect. Joaquin stops calling you “asset” or “operative” and begins introducing you simply as “my partner.” When he finally says it aloud during a debrief—“Well done, partner”—you allow yourself a small, genuine smile. Underneath both your masks, the promise is clear: you face the darkness together.

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Truth Exposer 1: Uncovered — Ch.12

PAIRING — Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki/Vigilante F!Reader RATING — Explicit CONTAINS — heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n ◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too ◆ characters are in their late 20s SUMMARY — Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house. They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked. Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life. Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // ➥AO3 CHAPTER LINK // ➥TUMBLR CHAPTERS LIST

CHAPTER SUMMARY — The unexpected finds a new way to surprise you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS — some crude language and behavior

WORD COUNT — ~3.8k

a/n: I'm sooo not rubbing my hands together for next week. Nope, nope. I'm not. The whiplash between last week's chapter and this one, tho 💀

“How in the world am I supposed to find this guy?” You stopped in the middle of the shady red-light district, hands on your hips. “He could be anywhere.”

“He likes alcohol and women, so…” Ayumu’s voice crackled through your earpiece. You could almost see him scratching his scalp like that might shake out an idea. “Maybe start with the back alleys? Ask around? Eavesdrop?”

Your gaze slid to the side, landing on a narrow alley near a hostess bar, lit by spasming pink neon lights. Flies buzzed in the glow above heaps of trash and dubious puddles. Your insides shriveled at the faint odor wafting from the alley into the cool evening air, but you dragged your feet toward it, pulling your mask higher over your nose. Pointless. The stench of rot, alcohol, sweat, and other things you refused to name assaulted your nostrils through the fabric.

“Can’t we just hire someone to find the guy while I go home?” you whined.

“Is it that bad?”

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

Ayumu made a gagging noise. “No thanks. You’ve got this!”

Grimacing, you sidestepped a murky puddle and sneaked behind the building. “Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“I hope you got enough cash on you.”

“I do, but maybe I’ll try charm first—” You ate up your own words as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

“What’s—”

“Shh.”

You slowly turned to confront whatever was putting your instincts through the wringer. Nothing, just your shadow and the many insects dancing over garbage. You glanced up discreetly, eyes tracing the moonlit edges of the rooftops. No movement.

Odd.

The air seemed to hold its own breath, fearful of an invisible presence.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, unconsciously clasping your forearm, pressing hard on the healing scratch you couldn’t remember getting. “I’m being paranoid, or something. Moving on.”

You were. Ever since visiting your parents, you’d felt off. It wasn’t unusual, as grief had a way of messing with your mind, but the scratch on your forearm was. That was new. Probably happened when you fainted, bumping your arm against the edge of the niche.

Because you had blacked out. Most likely from a mix of heavy incense, the suffocating mood in the room, and the terrible sleep you’d been getting. When you came back to yourself, you were sprawled on the floor, and your head felt like it was being split open.

Lingering for a moment longer, you turned your attention to the long strip of pavement between the towering buildings and the few people ahead, mingling under the crepuscular glow of the alleyway. Shaking off the feeling of being hunted, you reached into your jacket pocket for the printed photo of your target and took cautious strides forward.

Your target was none other than Lakki Café’s former chef. He’d worked there from the early days until this spring, when he quit without explanation. Since then, his life had gone into a steep downward spiral, the descent so fast that you and Ayumu both agreed it was too sudden to be a case of ridiculous bad luck.

Especially after a supposed accident left him with permanent amnesia.

You schooled your expression into something stoic and began asking the magic question: “Have you seen this man?” You observed each face, ears tuned to any hesitation or shift in breath.

Almost two hours later, and nothing. No one had seen him, and you hadn’t spotted anyone even remotely resembling him. Back alleys, bar entrances, side streets—you scoured them all.

Irritation simmered deep in your gut as you glared at the photo. His appearance might’ve changed, but not that much. Unless he got plastic surgery.

“So it’s come to that,” Ayumu said, his discontent not helping yours.

“Mhm.” You leaned against the back of the bench, knee bouncing as you rescanned the area. “Make sure it’s the shadiest, most notorious club, bar—whatever fits the bill.”

“I’m gonna hate sending you in there,” he muttered. “On it.”

The clicking of Ayumu’s keyboard was the only sound easing your tension, cutting through the bass-boosted club beats blaring from nearby bars, drunken shouts, and crass laughter. If you focused on it long enough, it might even drown out the fool puking somewhere behind you, and the not-so-subtle moans of the couple going at it behind the dumpster across from you. They thought they were sneaky. They weren’t.

Laughter bubbled up from your belly at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Some balloons here, a few more there, a couple extra splashes of color, maybe a confetti cannon or two, and voilà—this could be your dream gig: ringmaster of your very own circus.

Truth Exposer? They should call you Clown Puppeteer instead.

You removed your mask and stuffed it in your pocket, instantly regretting it. The delightfully perfumed air had your nose crying for mercy. And you nearly sobbed in relief when Ayumu finally gave you names, along with a suggestion on where to start.

“Yeah, okay. That nightclub definitely fits,” you deadpanned, surveying the building like it offended your sense of taste. Its entrance, decked out with a colorful banner promising free booze from 10 p.m. to midnight, blazed with the street’s most obnoxious LED logo. Outside, a long line of people inched forward at a snail’s pace.

Waiting to get in? That couldn’t be you.

“Apparently, it’s run by a gangster. For the love of, please stay out of trouble.”

“No promises. Later.”

With your earpiece joining your mask in your pocket and your phone switched off, you sashayed toward the nightclub, determined to bribe your way in. Time was of the essence; screw the queue.

The bouncer’s thick neck craned in your direction, his dark, beady eyes sharpening as he noticed you walking straight toward him instead of joining the line like everyone else.

“Queue starts there,” he said, motioning mechanically to the end of the line. Then he widened his stance and crossed his arms, which you eyed with interest.

You’d bet one of your secrets that this gym-rat-looking man didn’t just lift heavy to get those pumped-up muscles. One smack from him, and K.O. would be your fate. Still, he probably wouldn’t mind bending the rules for someone who preened his ego.

You forced a flirty expression to take over your face—sultry smile, foxy eyes. “Can’t you make an exception?”

“No exceptions. Get in line.”

“Are you sure?” You pinched your jacket’s zipper and dragged it down, subtly teasing him, revealing the top beneath. From between your breasts, you drew out a tight roll of bills, holding it between two fingers. “I’m happy to sweeten the deal. If it gets me in right away, of course.”

He ogled the money, then your chest, as the people in the line started to complain, a few even bitching at you directly. Your smile stretched wider. If he asked you to flash him, his balls would have a date with your knee before you made a run for it.

He cocked his head, a sleazy grin curling at his lips. “A pic of those tits, and we got a deal. Squeeze them together.” He extended his phone toward you.

“One titty pic coming right up,” you chirped, trading the cash for his phone, your fingers intentionally grazing his thick ones. Clown Puppeteer clowning her puppets. An acting award would be in order; your expression stayed flirty, suggestive, even as your stomach turned.

“Running low on good material?” you teased as you opened the front camera and angled the phone.

“Willing to provide more?”

“Depends on what I get in return.” You pulled your top lower, pressed an arm beneath your breasts, and posed. The flash went off. A spectacular shot of the overflowing trash can behind you was now saved in his phone’s memory. “There we go. Let me through first, and you’ll get your phone back. Maybe with a little extra, like my number?”

He licked his lips before stepping aside, openly raking his heated gaze over your body. Maybe his gray matter was what went into those muscles because it sure wasn’t in his head.

You brushed past him with a wink, tossed him the phone, and bolted for the club’s heart.

The interior was smaller than you anticipated, but it made up for it with three floors, the highest of which housed the VIP area. In the center, the dance floor pulsed with sweaty bodies, swaying and grinding under laser-like lights to the sensual beat. To one side, tables were packed with groups of people, their surfaces cluttered with alcohol bottles and half-empty glasses. The other side belonged to the busy bar.

Now this was the kind of environment you died to be in. Was the way you came from the only exit? You pressed the heel of your palm to your temple. Barely a minute in, and your head was already pounding with the bass.

You weaved through the strangers, pushing through the sensory torture. Outside was bad, but in here was worse. The air was thick with alcohol vapors, sweat, cheap perfume, and people’s natural odor, and it was hot too. Like summer never left, trapped between these dark walls.

By the time you reached the bar, sweat had already slicked your back in a sticky sheen.

Claiming one of the bar stools, you rested your elbow on the counter and rubbed your fingers together, waiting for the bartender to finish dealing with the drunk guy beside you.

“More!” the man barked, slamming his fist on the bar. “I got money. Lots of money,” he slurred, obviously a guy who lacked the notion of limit. He was so wasted, you could almost name the alcohol on his breath.

“I apologize, sir, but that’s not possible. You’ve reached your quota for the day,” the bartender shouted politely over the music.

Hard to argue with the denial. The guy was swaying on his feet, his upper body slumped over the bar like a sandbag. He flailed, trying to grab the bartender, who stepped just out of reach, his brows pulling into a frown.

“Can’t you get someone to deal with him?” you asked, gesturing toward the drunk.

The bartender’s gaze slid to you, his frown deepening as he stepped in front of you. “What can I get you?”

“An answer, hopefully.” His brow twitched up. You took out the former chef’s photo and set it on the counter. “Have you seen him around?”

“What’s your business with him?” he asked, caution glinting in his eyes.

Bingo.

“He’s my father.” You pressed a hand to your chest like the weight of the words physically hurt. “I lost contact with him a few months ago. I’ve been looking everywhere ever since.” Your voice softened as you leaned in slightly. “Please…if you know anything that can help me, I’d really appreciate it. The price doesn’t matter.”

Seconds danced away to the rhythmic beats of the music. Your heart eventually joined in, pounding harder and harder as the bartender scrutinized you like you were here to blow the place up. He squinted at every visible pore, line, and angle of your face, searching for the resemblance between father and daughter.

Your features didn’t exactly scream “related”—you’d planned to chalk it up to taking after your “mother.” But the wig’s color and your contact lenses were a perfect match to the former chef’s.

It wasn’t long before his critical examination started to irritate you. You played your next card.

Your mind hurtled itself into the past, sifting through the mountain of misery to pull a few moments cutting enough to slice your composure.

You remembered waking up after your Quirk first manifested in a hospital bed, hooked to machines. Your mother was wrecked by sobs, your father holding her from crumbling to the floor as the doctor explained they had to keep you longer, worried you might slip into another shock. Another temporary death. And you did exactly that. Panicked so hard you couldn’t breathe, terrified your Quirk might trigger again.

You remembered the day you clawed through rubble, desperate to find them. You’d used your Quirk again and again until noise felt like knives stabbing into your skull, forcing your body to pass out just to protect itself.

Ever so slowly, your eyes began to well. Your throat tightened. Your nose grew stuffy. You sniffed, pressing a hand to your mouth as a whimper pushed past your lips.

The first tear fell. Then the second.

Memories morphed into a lie. The lie dressed in truth.

“P-please. I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.” A sob tore from your chest. “I can’t keep living like this. Please…just tell me.”

The bartender’s expression softened, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted him melted into a puddle of pity, so he wouldn’t second-guess his own words.

You placed your hand over his gloved one, letting a subtle tremor run through your fingers, and perfected your expression into the saddest, most grief-stricken look you could muster. Eyes wet, lashes heavy, you peered up at him like someone on the verge of falling apart. He’d do well to give you information, not a hug.

The bartender exhaled slowly, and you saw it—the exact moment he gave in. Not even the drunk on the next stool seemed to matter anymore.

“He’s working for my boss. But you’ll have to ask him for more details.” He offered you a weak smile and gave your hand a brief, comforting squeeze before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind him. “Get him a glass of this. He’ll know you’re here to discuss business.”

You flicked your eyes to the bottle. The boss liked expensive liquor. Really expensive liquor. “I’ll b-buy the whole bottle.”

“You will?” The bartender’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “It’s pricey.”

“The whole bottle, please,” you insisted, putting force behind your voice.

Before you were tempted to flip the script, you got what you wanted and climbed the stairs to the third floor to meet the boss—probably the gangster Ayumu mentioned—choking the bottle’s neck.

The good news? Your target was alive and kicking.

The bad news? Whatever waited in the room with the boss. You could only hope he kept minimal company. Things were bound to go sideways with people like him.

Your free hand drifted to your inner pocket, checking for the custom EpiPen. Still there. Just in case.

Two security guards blocked your path as you reached the top of the stairs.

“Area’s off-limits,” one of them said. “Leave.”

You raised the expensive liquor bottle. “I’m here to talk business with your boss.”

They both burst out laughing, mouths twisting with mockery. As much as you wanted to play nice, their vibe practically begged for a label. Dumb and Dumber, it was.

“What kind of business would that be, cutie?” the other—whom you’d tagged as Dumber—asked, swaggering into your space.

“Are you the boss?”

“If I say I am, are you gonna give me your,” he gave you a lecherous once-over, “time?”

A solid kick to the balls, a rearranged nose, or a firsthand experience with your Quirk were the only things on the menu. For him, or his buddy, or both. They seemed to be friends; it was only fair that they went down together.

“I’d be too busy questioning why you’re out here guarding the door like a good dog, instead of inside partying like the boss you claim to be. So, no.”

Dumb whistled, smacking his hands together like an excited seal. “Shit, man. She’s got a mouth on her.” His grin twisted into something uglier. “Boss likes them like that. Let her through.”

You pushed open the double doors and felt your blood pressure drop. Two shady-looking men lounged with scantily clad women in their laps, cigars burning and shots disappearing down their thick throats. Your stomach curdled at the sight, but it was the smell, laced with sex and musk, that made your skin crawl. Oh, the joy of the city’s darker corners and the dubious businesses thriving in its underbelly.

“Hah?! Who the fuck? Our new bitch?” The fucker who noticed you first had a buzz cut and barely fit in his seat. His lustful stare locked on your face as he crooked a finger. “C’mere. I got something nice for ya.”

Disgust exploded in every cell. Through sheer will, you managed to suppress a shudder and make a face at this pig. If the boss had the same attitude, there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d leave this place without getting into trouble first.

“You’re not the boss.”

He glanced at his companion, then squinted at you. “What makes ya think that?”

“Someone’s expensive tastes tend to show in the way they talk and behave.”

He shoved himself out of his seat, the woman in his lap squeaking like a rat cornered in a cage. She stumbled on her peep-toe heels and fell hard to the shiny floor. The thud of her bony knees made you wince.

Buzz Cut’s nostrils flared, his round face turning a worrisome shade of red. He opened his mouth, but when the words failed him, he stomped toward you. Four steps in, and a hoarse voice cut in from across the room.

“Sit down before you make a bigger fool of yourself.”

You’d bet this was the boss.

Casual-formal outfit. Hair gelled stiff. Confident strides that screamed ownership, and a calculated glint in his gray eyes. Oh, and the faint outline of a four-leaf clover tattoo on his neck. White ink, maybe?

Behind him, two women staggered out, mascara running, lipstick smeared across their mouths. They looked… happy. Satisfied. A dazed kind of bliss that had you glancing at the table again, scanning for the source of their joy. Not alcohol, you’d guess. Something different. More illegal, but suited for the context.

“Apologies, missy, for my guys’ lack of manners,” he said, adjusting his leather belt. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m looking for my father.” You stepped forward, set both the photo and the expensive liquor on the cluttered table. “I was told you know where he is.”

A wild grin broke across his face at the sight of the bottle. You couldn’t help the slight jaw-drop as he bowed, multiple times, quick and eager, then skipped like a child on Christmas morning to snatch the bottle and plant a kiss on its thin, glassy neck.

Your job had its absurd moments, but today was taking the whole damn cake. First the bouncer, then Dumb and Dumber, and now this wannabe boss with what appeared to be an alcohol kink.

You rubbed the back of your neck, working out some of the tension, and sighed. What a fucking circus.

“Ah, my favorite baby! And a whole bottle too.” The wannabe boss beamed, hugging the liquor to his chest. “Tell me, gorgeous missy, how can I be of assistance? Think of me as your humble servant.”

He could start by helping himself to a doctor.

“Can you tell me where my father is?” you asked the magic question, curious how fast he’d backpedal on that whole humble servant act. Seconds? Minutes?

“Running an errand for me at the Lovers Den,” he said, stroking the bottle like a cherished lover.

“What?”

“Hmm?” His gray eyes lifted to yours, and alarm bells clanged in your skull. Something slithered beneath his lax attitude, something that smiled with too many teeth. He snapped his fingers. “I see! You thought I was gonna drag this out like a cliché villain, huh?”

You stared at that wickedness for a second too long before easing toward the exit, forcing a laugh. “No. Just surprised by your honesty. I appreciate it,” you said as he picked up one of the thick cigars from the table. “Thank you—”

A sudden pinch in your thigh cut the words short.

“Your father has only two sons. No daughter. Not even from some mistress.” He tossed the fake cigar over his shoulder and perched on the edge of the table, legs spread. “I know everything about my men. And my men don’t lie. They understand the value of life.”

You gulped and reached for the object in your thigh, fingers closing around it with a restrained tremble. When you pulled it free, your breath escaped in a huff.

A small needle attached to an elongated, now-empty vial.

Bits of your mask crumbled. Your heart galloped, as if trying to outrun the strange dullness encroaching on your senses. You’d accounted for your story falling apart, but not this.

“Don’t worry, missy. Just a little something to even the playing field,” he said smoothly. “No offense, but my men’s lives are in my hands. It’s my job to protect them from threats.”

“I’m a threat?” you scoffed as panic surged like a furious wave. “If I were, wouldn’t I have stormed this place instead? Made a ruckus?”

“You’re targeting someone who’s keeping a very low profile, and I’ve got a few ideas why.” He pointed at you, lazily circling his finger in the air. “You’re a threat. So here’s how this goes.” His grin didn’t reach his steely eyes. “You can be well-mannered, like me, and tell the truth. Or you can deal with the consequences. Either way, I’ll get it out of you.”

“Hmm. And what kind of consequences would that be?”

“Look at them.” He gestured to the dazed women. “You’ll be joining their little club. Unless…your Quirk’s interesting. You do have one, don’t you?”

The pause that followed was loud with implication. You let it bang against the walls of your mind, using those precious seconds to brace yourself for a failed escape. Luck seriously had a twisted sense of humor. Today, it cackled like a witch unleashing her most powerful, most destructive curse.

You dropped the dart on the glossy floor and crushed it under your heel. “I don’t know. Isn’t that your job too? To figure it out.” Your hand eased into your jacket’s inner pocket. “I’m sure you could use the mental exercise to stay sharp while quality-checking the goods before delivery. Is she paying well?”

His gray eyes flared with excitement. Suddenly, you were just as interesting as his beloved liquor bottle. “Who are you?”

A dry chuckle spilled from your mouth. “Damn it, Boss. I thought you said you weren’t like a cliché villain, but then you go and ask me that question?” You shook your head, jabbing the EpiPen into your thigh. “Disappointing.”

Adrenaline tore through your veins, banishing panic and setting your nerves ablaze with wild euphoria. Your senses snapped back into razor focus. Your instinct turned feral, famished for a fight.

His ugly, arrogant laugh grated in your ears. “I’m starting to like you,” he said, then dropped his gaze to your thigh. “What’s that you just injected?”

“A little something to even the playing field.”

The little something your escape hinged on.

Your Quirk…

You couldn’t feel it.

It wasn’t there.

taglist: @lunaryasha | @tomiokasecretlover | @fiselle | @5oftkitty | @lousypotatoes

[diangelodork]

MMMMMMMM THIS. “what if i devoted my life to you, but i craved it in a more intimate sense? what if i served you anyway? what if i protected you not for my job, but because of my undying adoration for you? what if i gave myself to you time and time again, just to see you alive? what if i craved for you to hold me when i took n injury for you? what if i desired you to clean my wounds? what if i couldn’t have it?”

knight/lord ships are like. what if i would die for you. what if i wanted you to live for me. what if i wanted to touch you but could only be satisfied with being near you. what if i could touch you but only through the safety of our gloves. what if i couldn’t stop thinking about you right next to me. what if i bloodied my hands for you and never looked back at the wreckage. what then

[lovesickeros]

popping in randomly after almost an entire month just to talk non stop about the tsaritsa again everyone sit down.

specifically just thinking about the implications of tsaritsa's ideals originally being about love + the abandonment of those ideals to complete her goal of, presumably, destroying Celestia or whatever she's cooking up. to the point even her people don't love her and I probably don't even remember a time her ideals were of love. now it's all just ice and snow and cold.

which makes romantic fics w her even funnier because she's purposely removed this part of herself and suddenly reader walks into teyvat like they own the place (they do) and I can only imagine her reaction. angry, probably. because why you? what are you doing to her that's caused her hundreds of years of strict adherence to rejecting "love" both from others and to others to just. collapse. absolute shattering of her world and you probably don't even know it bc if nothing else she's good at hiding it. a lot of denial. tries to pick you apart and see what's makes you so different.

and oh she just hates it. she loathes it.

basically one sided enemies to lover trope because she can't stand you for a while but if you stick around she starts warming up to you and it makes it WORSE. so much worse. tries to distance herself but your just everywhere and it gets on her nerves because why does she love you? she isn't capable of love, not anymore. she thought she was.

g-d forbid one of the harbingers or PIERRO notices she'd never live it down. might even consider the implications of just killing you (she doesnt). worse if you know about it and act like a brat she will lose her damn mind

just the tsaritsa being an absolutely horrible mess internally.

[willyhoos]

metamy is insane. like.

what if i was the hero you loved gone wrong. defeated and destroyed. rebuilt as my own greatest enemy. what if i lost everything. what if i had been reprogrammed to despise all i had once fought for. what if i couldn't even remember why i had fought at all.

and what if you were made of roses. what if you represented every beautiful thing i once died trying to protect. what if you wore flowers in your hair and cared for small creatures and had eyes the color of the forests i used to call my home. what if you were everything i once loved.

those memories are just out of my reach. infuriatingly. maddeningly. but if anyone knows who i am (who i used to be) it's you. if anyone can make me feel like who i used to be (who i really am) it's you. i can't speak, i can't breathe, i can't remember anything (but you).

you are the world i have been ordered to burn. i am the weapon you have chosen to resist. i was (am) the hero that you loved.

you are my only memory.

[crescentmp3]

kill your feelings, eleanor

[image desc: digital art of op's original character, eleanor lloyd. she has a grim look of hesitation on her face, a dagger in her hand as she holds in her hand a heart—her own heart, light growing inside it to paint it red and pink with love as the darkness in it melts off. she grips the dagger tightly, peering intently at her heart. the drawing has dramatic lighting for effect, and she seems to be in her own room. there is a barely visible corkboard at the back that has the face of the earl crossed out. // end id]

[housedellamort]

Whenever I'm reading anything with Lucanis, I like to play a little game called:

Is this Lucanis Dellamorte or is it the ghost of Zevran Arainai* possessing him?

*when I say the ghost of Zevran, I mean the fandom perception that flattens him into a bad stereotype.

[maulfucker]

This song is making me want to start yet another fic to never finish,, "Tell me... Where is your hideout? Who are we running from? I'm starting to think that you were right, and now I'm afraid of letting go of your hand...." Maul giving up on his Mandalore plan and deciding to just stalk Kenobi to tell him about his vision. Staying illegally in Obi-Wan's room because I love putting these guys in situations (and because Maul would NOT leave him alone until Obi-Wan actually accepted Maul is right, which he won't). Following Obi-Wan to Utapau and helping him escape after the clones attack, feeling equal parts vindicated and enraged (because he was proved right but Sidious still won). Them being on the run together....

[wingsofhcpe]

just watched shogun episode 7 with my mum and I feel so bad that I burst out laughing at the ending where Toranaga's son tries to kill the baddie but slips falls cracks his head and dies like... MY GUY YOU HAD ONE JOB-

[90494]

@svetlania mr. roi and daemon have a fun dynamic… yapping in tags

[quantam-furniture]

GAME IS GOOD

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Simon had been angry before, no question about that. But he had never been this angry. The moment the helicopter touched down, he grabbed your elbow and dragged you through the base, until you reached the building that was assigned to the 141. All the way, he ignored the concerned and annoyed shouts from the others. And you? You couldn't say anything to defend yourself. Not this time at least.

Simon had all the reasons to be angry, one could have. You were reckless, stubborn, almost got yourself killed in the process. And now you were bearing the consequences. So, you let him drag you through the base, ignoring the curious stares and the way his nails bit into your skin, even through the shirt you were wearing. 

As soon as you two stepped foot into the rec room, he pushed you inside, before stalking to you, glaring as if you were one of his enemies. But you knew better and you saw the worry and fear hidden behind the anger. 

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" Price, Soap, and Gaz entered the room, looking worried. "Simon, calm down." Usually, Price's words would have worked. Would have gotten Simon to come to his senses. But you knew he was too far gone. 

"I wasn't thinking. I did what I had to, just like you taught me." You tried to square up to him, but the fire burning in his eyes made you back down. "I didn't fuckin' teach you to get yourself killed now, did I?" You sighed, frustrated, and glared right back at the giant in front of you. 

"You know what I mean. Don't act as if you wouldn't have done the sa-" He interrupted you, spit flying as he suddenly yelled. "That's not what this is about!" Your glare disappeared as your eyes widened in shock. He must have realized what he just did, taking a few steps back, his hand raking down his face. When he looked back at you, a quiet whisper that was your name, left his lips, but you stopped him.

"Fuck you, Simon." That seemed to get his anger going again. "Don't. You're on thin fucking ice right now, you understand?" Your eyes immediately found Soap's, who was already smirking. 

Just last week, he showed you a stupid meme, where someone said "You're on thin ice", and the other person started tap dancing. And in that moment, you knew what you had to do, no matter the cost. So, you stood up straight and started to tap dance. Or at least tried to. First, you had no clue how to, so whatever it looked like, it must've been terrible. And second, before you even got three steps in, Simon's arm wrapped around your waist and he threw you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

"Hey!" Not reacting at all, he walked out of the rec room, once again ignoring the others calling after him. Although, it was only Price and Gaz calling. Soap was standing beside them, bent over laughing.

Before you knew it, Simon put you down again. But it wasn't gently, no. Instead, he just threw you onto, what you quickly realized was, his bed. And when you heard the lock click, you knew you were in for a night.

A/N: I love all of you, hope you know that! <3

[sixeyesonathiel]

clanhead!satoru, who grew up behind paper walls and formal greetings, thinks he’s doing fine. he doesn’t need warmth. doesn’t need partnership. definitely doesn’t need you. not your voice. not your gaze. not your hands reaching out in that quiet way they always do, halfway between anger and hope. he doesn’t need softness, doesn’t need mornings spent with knees brushing beneath the table, or nights curled around shared exhaustion. he doesn’t need any of that.

he keeps telling himself that.

you were arranged. names selected. lives assigned. there was no falling in love, no whirlwind romance. only obligation, and a shared contract, and two people who didn’t know each other at all. the clan called it a bond. satoru called it a sentence. and maybe, so did you. maybe you still do. but you're both too stubborn to say it out loud.

and yet, here you are. somehow, sharing a home that isn’t quite a home. circling around each other like bored cats, passive-aggressively polite, trading jabs like candy wrappers. it’s a miracle neither of you has murdered the other in your sleep. though, sometimes, it’s close. last week you slapped his shoulder with a ladle because he said your miso soup was “a little too philosophical.”

every morning, he wakes up alone in the house you both live in. passes your closed door, always closed, like a wall he isn’t meant to climb. makes his own coffee. glares at your mug next to his like it’s mocking him. sometimes he touches the handle like it might give him a sign. sometimes he almost washes it and puts it away, but doesn’t. not yet. not when you might still come down. not when the ghost of your presence still lingers in the air like perfume.

he starts narrating your morning habits in his head like he's in some tragic sitcom. “there she goes. my legally wedded stranger. master of mug placement. destroyer of peace.” he doesn’t say it aloud. mostly because you’d probably throw a pillow at him and then he’d have to feel something about that.

you’ve filed for divorce again. that’s five now. seven, if he’s honest. twice were his. he still doesn’t know why he ripped them up. they sat on the edge of his desk for days, heavy and clean and final. and then one night, he came home soaked in rain, looked at the envelope, and tore it to shreds like it meant nothing. it meant everything. he couldn’t breathe with it there. couldn’t sleep. couldn’t stop hearing your voice, even when the house was dead quiet.

maybe he’s just tired. maybe it’s the quiet way you look at him when you think he’s not paying attention. maybe it’s the way you always buy him those god-awful sunglasses, even though he hasn’t worn a pair in years. he lines them up on his desk like trophies. he doesn’t know what he’s competing for.

he doesn’t eat unless you cook. says the clan's food makes him sick. lies through his teeth. you roll your eyes every time, muttering, “go starve then.” and he almost does, until you slide a plate across the table an hour later. he stares at the food like it might vanish if he breathes wrong. he doesn’t say thank you. you don’t expect him to. but sometimes, he finds himself eating slower, like the warmth might linger longer that way.

“i’m not your maid,” you mutter once, shoving a bowl of miso soup toward him without looking.

“could’ve fooled me,” he replies. you hit him with a rolled-up magazine. he deserved it. he actually smiles into his spoon.

he didn’t know how to be with someone. he still doesn’t. no one taught him gentleness. no one told him how to reach across the silence and say something that mattered. he grew up with expectation in his bones and solitude in his chest. you grew up dreaming of something else. something soft. something kind. he wonders what version of yourself you had to kill to become the one sitting across from him now.

on bad days, you don’t speak at all. the tension hangs like wet fabric, clinging to everything. the walls feel closer. the air feels thinner. you text like strangers. argue like enemies. sleep like strangers, too. and yet… you still leave the porch light on when he’s out late. he still puts your laundry on the drying rack so it doesn’t wrinkle. you refill the coffee beans. he folds your sweaters when they’re left on the couch. no one mentions these things. maybe because if you said them out loud, they might count as hope. and hope, in this house, is more terrifying than anger.

sometimes he wonders if you even remember the day they told you. the day they said, “you’ll be marrying gojo satoru.” did you cry? did you laugh? did you try to run? he doesn't know. never asked. maybe he didn’t want to know. maybe he was afraid the answer would make him hate himself more.

he remembers the first time you touched him. it wasn’t romantic. just a hand on his wrist, steadying him when he almost tripped on the temple steps. but it lingered. it stayed with him longer than it should have. maybe because it felt real. because it was the first time in years he didn’t feel like a ghost inside his own body.

the first time you made him laugh was when you shoved a whole rice ball in his mouth mid-argument just to shut him up. he nearly choked. you didn’t apologize. he thinks that might’ve been the moment he fell a little in something with you. not love. not yet. but something dangerously adjacent.

he started doing small things too. placing your phone on the charger when you fell asleep watching dramas. hiding your favorite snack in the cabinet behind the protein powder because he knew you’d never look there. writing your name on his calendar, next to his meetings, like it was just as important.

this isn’t working. he knows that. it’s not love, not the kind that grows with laughter and time. it’s something else. something quiet. something fragile. it’s the way you both keep showing up, even when you have every reason not to. like a game of chicken no one wants to lose.

but for some reason, when the elders ask about the paperwork, he always shrugs and says, “she must’ve lost it again.” and when you’re alone in the same room, you always say the same thing. your voice is flat, practiced—but your hands tremble when you pick up the mug, and your eyes flick to his like they might say something your mouth won’t.

he wonders if you’re lying too.

and if you are, he wonders what it means that he hopes you are.

[madamechrissy]

Worst Behavior

Art in the center by Houhai673 on lofter

pairings- stepbrother! Sukuna x f! Reader (lil bit of Toji/reader)

summary - Sukuna’s dad married your mom while you were in high school, and you hated each other on sight. He endlessly picked on and tortured you. So much so that he became a fucking YouTube sensation from prank videos starring you! You come back home for summer break after a bad breakup, and of course annoying ass Sukuna is there, with his stupid smirk, ready to pick on you again, only to be derailed when he sees you're going out with his old friend Toji for a date. Turns out, Sukuna has had it bad for you for a long time, and making you hate him was the only way to guarantee you stay far away, but can he keep up the act?

content/warnings - MDNI, tw- stepcest, lots of pining, kinda one-sided lol, Sukuna is an asshole to you, reader hates him. Enemies to ????- ton of sexual tension, jealous ass Sukuna. This chap - fingering, Toji saying what's up, Sukuna masturbating and being just depraved and pathetic tbh, panty stealing, taboo relationships

part two>>>

part one

It was junior year of high school when your mom remarried, and you can't forget that day, the first time you met that pretentious little shit Sukuna. Who was now your 'family' you guess?

He was a couple of years older, already in freshman year of college, he'd come home on break and torment you endlessly, a whole fucking bulky. He'd hide shit high where you can never reach it, jumpscare you constantly, woke you up to fuck with you, and even filmed his pranks and put them on YouTube.

The jerk was actually YouTube famous from the amount of pranks he'd pull and your golden reactions. A mix of throwing shit at him, cursing him out or smacking him while he held his phone and recorded it. There was no doubt in your mind you just hated the giant asshole of an older 'stepbrother’ you had.

Now you're graduating this year, back home for summer break, and luckily Sukuna almost never visits anymore. He's running his stupid YouTube channel and banking on it, on being a dumb little prankster for his millions of subscribers, so now he lives pretty far thank God.

Let him prank everyone else.

You both don't talk whatsoever aside from holidays and family functions, and then it's just Sukuna picking on you. Not much has changed in five years, maybe his tactics are better. A little sneakier.

You smile and hug your mom, and your step-dad. He's actually pretty fucking cool, and your mom and him are cute together. "Hey hunny, I'm so glad you're here!" Your mom is going on and on about a party she's throwing, as you settle into your room, nothing's changed really. Your mom keeps it all the same.

"Mom, you don't have to keep all this out," you tease, looking at your old posters that adorn the walls, scattered Polaroids pinned to your corkboard. "You could make it a guest room?"

"We have a guest room, we love having your stuff here. And Sukuna's room is the same."

"Ugh don't say his name, you'll summon him!" Your mom laughs a bit as you shiver in feigned disgust.

"He's family honey."

"Not even. I get dad, I really do, but I think Sukuna and I will never get along."

"Ah shit that hurts sis." You hear his pretentious voice and panic as he leans in the doorway, stupid fucking smirk on his far too attractive face. You glare at him.

"Yuck don't call me that, weirdo." He flips you off behind your mom's back, putting his hands away as your mom comes up and hugs him tightly. He smirks over her shoulder as you flip him off back. 

"She's so mean to me, why can't she be nicer like you," he pouts, and your mom laughs a bit, leaning on her tip toes to ruffle his light pink locks. 

"You're both mean to each other. Maybe a couple weeks at home will help you two learn to get along."

"He's staying for a couple weeks!? Ugh." You sigh and he scoffs. Your mom shakes her head and looks at you both.

"Dinner in thirty. Get settled and don't kill each other."

Sukuna eyes you then, ever so slowly up and down, while you start setting things down. "Really filled out huh?"

"I'll punch you." He grins again, you wall up and shove at him, pausing when you feel just how hard his chest is. Blushing a bit, he notices apparently, raising a brow.

"Feeling me up?"

"Gross no. Gym rat." He glares now and you smile right back.

"Yeah how's that loser boyfriend of yours?" He asks so casually. Walking in your room and touching all your shit like he does. You follow him and put everything back in its place as he skews every position of any item.

"We broke up," he pauses at your tone, eyeing you then. You're so pretty you make his heart pound in his chest, not like he'd ever fucking tell you. He calls you a gremlin and worse, knowing you're a whole knockout. "Yeah, rub it in."

"Wasn't gonna," you pause then, as his ruby eyes glint and catch yours. For a moment you see a rare softness in them, making you falter. "He got tired of your bitchiness?"

"Oh fuck off." You roll your eyes, sinking on the white day bed, hands brushing the soft sheets that smell like your mom's favorite fabric softener. But you also smell him, Sukuna, so manly and taking over your space, he leans on your dresser, eyeing a picture of you.

"What happened?"

"Like you care," you lay back, shorts sliding up your thighs. Revealing far, far too much skin, he barely tears his eyes away. "He left me for my best friend."

"Oh shit..." he doesn't know what to say, all he's ever done is pick on you, prank you. Be a whole ass. How does he... comfort you? Without getting too close, feeling shit he can't?

What you didn't realize, is Sukuna has had it bad for you for years now. He knows he can never act on it, so the next best thing was to make your life a living hell. To make you hate him and stay far, far away.

It worked, you hate him.

But it's still not enough to stop the raging thoughts always inside him, of the filthy things he thinks of when he's alone. Stroking his cock to memories of you rather than porn, finding himself comparing others to the traits he loves about you. Traits you'll never know.

He can never ever tell you.

"I've got a date this week though. Old friend of ours." You lean up on your elbows, eyeing him then. He feels that familiar pang of fucking jealousy he also can't feel, remembering the ridiculous amount of men he's chased off over the years.

"What old friend?" He asks curiously, you smile a little then.

"Toji. Weren't you two super close?"

"Toji!? You are not going out with Toji." You sit up and glare, Sukuna crosses his thick arms. "Absolutely not."

"I'm twenty one. I'll do what I want, but don't you like him?"

"Tch, you're such an annoying fucking brat," his words make you stand up, as he sets down your polaroid, it's a pretty picture that's always burned in his brain. You at the beach all happy and pretty, he'd been so hard that day he'd had to jerk it in the fucking bathroom stall.

Why do you have to be so pretty? It's so annoying, and your shit attitude. Toji would be all over you, he always found you hot, but he never dared make a move once Sukuna let him know you were off limits. Was Sukuna not as imposing now that he's a YouTube star? Toji acted as if he couldn't still beat his ass down.

“Put the picture back, you’re so weird.” He holds it up high, smirking down at you, while you jump up and try to grab it, his big grin growing on his face, while he runs around your room with it.

“Too short, aww.”

“Anyone is short you giant, lord of the rings ent.”

“Nerd!”

“Give it!” You’re bouncing again, and he’s far too enamored by your pretty tits jiggling for a moment, his hand falls as his eyes catch them, you snatch your picture up then. “Hah! Now go.”

“Like I wanna be in here.” He’s scowling as he walks out, you lock your door with a little click when Sukuna stands in front of it, sighing and resting his back on it.

Why is it worse than usual seeing you? Typically he could hold his composure somewhat, why do you have to smell so good and - 

Shit he needs to stop.

*****

Dinner with Sukuna is the worst. He's devouring everything on his plate before leaning over, starting to slam down your food too. You scoff and shove the whole plate at him. "Yuck, just have it, now it's covered in Sukuna germs."

"You should count yourself lucky to have any of them from me, brat."

"Will you two stop," your mom and Sukuna's dad say it simultaneously with a big sigh, it's an automatic response when you both have to be in each other's vicinity.

"Why don't you just stay somewhere fancy, rich boy?"

"Tch, you really would miss me if I didn't come over, can't have you all upset." You roll your eyes as your mom gives you an entire other plate of food. Sukuna's already downed your plate and eyeing the new one.

"Let me eat holy shit," you turn away from him, about to stab him with the fork when he goes for a piece of chicken. "Sukuna!"

"Stop it, go get another plate." Sukuna's dad instantly has Sukuna resigned just a bit, he rolls his eyes and leaves your plate alone. The two of them look more like brothers than father and son really, he's a spitting image of him.

Sukuna is handsome, you suppose, though he knows it and is so pretentious about it, that it's just annoying. You'd never tell him he was, either, not when he calls you a little gremlin. That started the first year you lived here, along with dweeb, shrimp and brat, he was a classic bully.

You nibble a bit as you stare at your phone, swiping away the annoying notification that he posted, only for him to eye it, smirking. "Aw you do love me, following me and everything!"

"You wish, I keep ignoring it and it won't stop. Conspiracy or some shit."

"Honey, no cussing at the table."

"Sorry mom," she laughs at you two, shaking her head, while Sukuna leans over, peeking at the phone you're now bringing to your chest. "Will you fuck off."

"Language honey. Ow!" You stomp right on his foot, earning a scowl landed at you. "Brat!"

"Jerk! I don't want to eat, I lost my appetite." You stand up then, plate almost entirely untouched, walking up the stairs as your mom asks you to come back down.

God you can't stand him.

You get a knock later, and he's holding a plate in his big ass hands, frowning a bit. "What, dad yell at you?"

"Just eat," he shoves the plate at you, you notice it's been warmed up when the glass touches your skin. You blink a bit in surprise. "You didn't eat anything."

"You ate all my food like an ass, and I'm not hungry." You shove the plate back at him and his eyes narrow, your fingers touching as you try to put it back in his hands.

"Will you just eat? Now."

"You don't tell me what to do.

"You're such a-

"Brat, I know." You tug the plate back, rolling your eyes now. "I'll eat if you leave me alone."

"I don't want to hang out with you anyway," he says, lying his fucking ass off - god he wants to just spend time with you, not that he ever would say it or do it for that matter. “You better eat it all.”

“Oh Jesus.” You shake your head at him, sighing and nibbling some of it when he walks away, you hate how good his ass looks in those stupid gym shorts. He catches you staring damn near, looking back at you with a raised brow, you quickly scowl and shut the door.

Why does Sukuna look so good? You can’t think the shit.

After eating you’re washing up, bumping into Sukuna as he heads to the bathroom, shirtless just to distract you, surely. You’re breathless when you see his bare chest - has he gotten more chiseled? More tattoos? There are many sliding across his chest, his flat brown nipples, dipping down his rib cage and tracing his obliques. For a moment you can’t even say anything, just standing there.

“Did you eat?” You blink a bit, looking up and nodding a bit. “Nothing smart to say?”

“I’m just tired.”

You’re far, far too close to him then, just standing there, cheeks heating up at the proximity. He’s always been gorgeous, he’s always been buff, it shouldn’t bother you now so much. Without another word, Sukuna walks into the bathroom and you head out of it, shoulder brushing one of his biceps, the contact alone making your tummy tense.

The fuck was going on with you lately?

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t originally have a crush on Sukuna when you met him, how couldn’t you? He was so hot, especially to a younger you, before you realized what an ass he was as soon as he opened his mouth. After that first prank you knew he was just your enemy, not that you could have ever acted on your stupid crush anyway.

He’s family now, honey.

You cover your face with the blankets, avoiding any thoughts of that tattooed body on top of you. Maybe it’s your break up, maybe it’s the date coming up, maybe you’re ovulating, fuck… Whatever it is, you’re undeniably clenching around nothing from being too close to that asshole.

*****

Your date with Toji is tonight, you had a little crush on him when he’d come visit with Sukuna over the summers, but of course he never left you alone with Toji. He was annoying as can be when it came to making sure no one talked to you, because no one wanted to fuck with Sukuna, it’s just now gotten easier, since he’s out of college and some of them have gotten a little braver.

He hated your last boyfriend when you brought him over, on sight, though you have to admit he may have been onto something with that one, he really was a complete dick now that you look back on it. But he hated everyone you dated, making sure if he ran into them on campus to threaten them for no good reason, most of them just gave up.

You ran into Toji the other day randomly, and he was looking really good. He's that dangerous bad boy that your mom tells you to stay away from, but you never listen. Good guy you were just with fucked your former friend however, so you’re truly not so sure what everything means right now. Giving him a chance for a date seems like the perfect way to forget two things.

One, your shitty ex.

Two, your annoying step brother.

You’re eyeing your outfit in the mirror, turning this way and that, before brushing your hair out, you’re dressed in a lacy little black bustier and a pretty pleated skirt, you two are going to a concert so you figure you’ll look cute for it. You’re popping on a little gloss, slathering it over your lips until they’re glistening, doing a little spin and then checking Toji’s text.

You’re running down the stairs, hand on the rail, cool under your touch, when you pause, almost running into Sukuna and nearly tumbling off that last step. Sukuna  curses, catching you quickly, until you’re pressed against him. He is steadying you with his hands, huge fucking hands that feel way too good on your skin, when you’re eye to eye with his chest, looking up at him slowly.

“Clumsy brat…” He grumbles, pushing you back then, but his touch lingers for a little too long. When he looks at your outfit slowly, you feel those ruby eyes like a physical touch, slipping down your body and making you tremble just a bit.

Sukuna never looks at you like that.

It’s quiet for a moment, it goes on way too long, his gaze trailing down your breasts in that top, seeing the way your nipples press up like they’re dying for him. You look too good, too pretty, too much of that body revealed, and for another dude to look and touch? His old friend at that- it fucking infuriates him, his fists clenched on either side.

He barely composes himself, while you’re just looking at him under your lashes, doing too much to his brain, his heart pounding in his chest as desire hits him right in the stomach. He’s seen you in all sorts of shorts, bikinis, you name it, but he’s never really seen you dressed like this, and it’s fucking his entire mind up, short circuiting momentarily.

He finally composes himself, crossing his arms and scowling as you smile at him, arms behind your back. “Like the outfit, Sukuna?”

“Like it, fuck no. What’re you trying to dress like that for?”

“Because we’re going to a concert!”

“Tch,” he goes to the coat stand then, yanking his down from it and scowling right down at you. “Put on the jacket, now.”

Sukuna’s throwing his jean jacket over your shoulders again, you yank it off and shove it at him, pretty breasts just heaving in that slutty little fucking top again, he’s torn between being furious anyone sees you like this, and irritated it affects him this bad. What he thought was shoved far down is prominent as ever, fuck it was even worse than before.

“No! Don’t want your stinky jacket.” He is stepping even closer, when you inhale him - and you hate to admit the fucker smells good.

“This cologne is a hundred bucks a spray, you know it smells good.”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s nasty. As is your giant jacket, it’ll swallow me, he won’t see my outfit at all!”

“Good, no one should.” You scoff at that and shake your head at him.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! You’re not some big brother, and I’m grown. I’ll wear whatever I want- I look hot actually.”

“You look slutty.” His whisper is too close, you haul back and smack him then, hurting your hand and gasping, shaking it out as the tingles shoot through it, while the asshole smirks. “Hit like a little girl.”

“Oh fuck you, with your big ass head.”

“Honey! Ready for your date? He’s um…” your mom looks outside as she walks up to you two in the entry way,, where Toji is revving up his mustang. “He’s here… I guess.”

“Can’t come to the fucking door?” Sukuna says, you scowl at him.

“Like you do that for girls.”

Sukuna raises a brow. “Like you know what I do for girls.”

“I’ve heard plenty,” he smirks then, shaking his head. “Oh you’re notorious, how many girls have you dated? Manwhore.”

“Me, a manwhore?”

“Mom,” you turn to her now, as she still eyes Toji standing outside of his mustang, you can tell all her motherly instincts are telling her to intervene, but she has always let you make your own decisions.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Tell him I’m fine in this,” your mom pauses, lips parting as Sukuna’s dad comes out, and looks at you briefly before he takes off his jacket from the rack, earning Sukuna’s chuckle. “Really now!?”

“It’ll be cold,” he tries to play it off, clearing his throat as he covers you up with his jean jacket instead. “You’ll catch a chill. And why isn’t he at the door?”

“Exactly-”

“Shush.” You put your finger to your lips as Sukuna is about to gloat at the fact that your parents are in agreement. “Suck up.”

“Me? You!”

“Okay,” your mom takes off the jacket, earning the two men’s scowls. “She’s an adult, she chooses what she wears. Even if… she should wear a jacket.”

“I love you.” You kiss her cheek, grabbing your purse and phone then, walking outside. Sukuna walks to the porch with you, much to your irritation, glaring over at Toji who’s whistling across the yard.

“What’s up, Sukuna?” Toji’s voice makes Sukuna want to take him down, he’s grinning as he looks at you in ways he shouldn’t. “Long time no see. Oooh, don’t you look hot, doll.”

You’re giggling, giggling!? Sukuna is about to lose his mind.

He grabs your wrist, long thick fingers with black painted nails taking it over, you pause at the warmth, at the rough palms, looking up then. The night is humid but there’s a breeze tossing around his light pink locks, as he grips just a little tighter, making you turn to him.

“What is it?” You ask then, your voice for a moment is soft, Sukuna looks at you, then at Toji, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” He lets you go then, you’re bouncing down the stairs practically, Toji’s hand is at the small of your back, his fingers itching to break them, while you hug Toji and he wraps you in his big ass arms.

You’re opening your door, it’s not like Toji would do that, shit Sukuna’s not one to do it half the time, but the fact that it’s you makes him unreasonably angry. You look at him across the driveway, expression unreadable before you slip in the car next to him. Toji zips off so quickly Sukuna’s also worried about you driving with him.

He’s been jealous before, many, many times, but today is just too much, seeing you again, and knowing you’ll never be his, hits harder than it should. He stomps back in the house, your mom thanks him for being so caring - hah - if only she knew what he really thought about you.

Sukuna really isn’t proud of any of the next thoughts or actions that night, no he really isn’t. When he heads up to his room but lingers by yours instead, staring into it and seeing black lace on the ground. He knows he’s just horrible when he walks in and shuts that door quietly, eyeing everything in there, the sweet lingering scent of your perfume hitting his senses.

Sukuna is also not proud when he’s in your room, when he takes those panties you slipped off before you left, just sitting on the carpet by your dresser. He’s not very proud when he picks them up to his face, inhaling your scent - fuck, his ‘stepsister’ has the sweetest pussy. He has done this before, and you just get sweeter tasting, as he desperately laps your slick off them.

He’s so not proud when he’s right in your bed, putting them to his face and releasing his thick cock then, red tip leaking precum and smacking his stomach as it’s released. He knows this isn’t a good thing to do, he’s Sukuna, he could have any woman he wants, they’re all after him, and he’s stealing panties and jerking it on a friday night.

He’s furious that Toji gets to touch you.

If Sukuna touched you, he’d grip your breasts, squish them in his hands, have you littered with his hand prints, show you what it is to really get fucked, and fucked so good you’re delirous from it. Bend you over, grip your wrists with one of his hands, stretch your cunt the fuck out. God he bets it’s so pretty, too, his mind vividly pictures it as he touches his tip, exhaling.

What is he reduced to from you!? In your bed, so big he hardly fits on the fucking thing, sprawled out with his long limbs as he strokes his thick, veiny cock slowly. Your panties are right against his face, he’s perverted and depraved for doing it, especially in your bed, but he can’t stop himself. He’s moaning softly into them, as your scent fills his mind, while his hand jerks it faster and faster.

He’s whispering your name, sweat slicking his muscled body, a thin sheen glimmering under your pretty fairy lights while he’s being fucking filthy on your bed. Picturing your tummy bulging with him, stroking slowly in and out, making you squirt cum all over him till your sheets were soaked. He’s jerking faster and faster, wishing it were you, so desperate and pathetic you make him.

He hates you more for making him this way, him, fucking Sukuna, pathetically cumming in his ‘step - sister’s’ bed, as if he could call you it. He barely knows you, aside from being a dick every break, pranking you to watch your pretty face so angry, getting off on it in far, far too many ways.

He didn’t have to be home for the summer, he actually put himself out doing it, just to see you, to fucking torment you, but it’s you who torment him, when he imagines tasting your pussy from the source. He’d lap his cum out of your cunt, then fill you up again, over and over, until there was no room for anymore, just messy and dripping all down your pretty thighs.

“Fuck,” he whispers it, muffling his moan with that fabric, as his cum pumps from his huge length, dripping in white ropes down his hand, pulsing in his hold. He’s gasping at the release, picturing putting it inside your bratty little fucking mouth.

He’s cleaned up then, right with your panties, whimpering the tiniest bit as they hit his sensitive tip, jerking as he lays there now, sooty pink lashes fluttering, furious as he thinks of you on your stupid date. You’ll never know what he really thinks, it has to be that way, but it doesn’t make it easier, not when he’s cuddling with a pillow that smells like your shampoo.

*****

“I had fun!” Toji smiles, that scar curving up just a bit, his big hand on your thigh as his engine hums.

“You did, huh?”

“I did, I needed that.” He chuckles and leans close, tilting your chin up now, inky locks falling over his brow. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he practically purrs the words, you gather their meaning quickly, heart racing just a bit as his lips descend. “Been thinking of this all night.”

Toji’s kiss is nothing like your ex, it’s a rough kiss, his tongue tracing your lips and slipping in your mouth when you gasp a bit. You hear his moan when he drags one of your thighs closer, spreading you, you feel your body reacting quickly, a mix of nerves, thoughts, and clearing your pussy is reacting too. She’s already been soaked for two days, and now she’s way too excited.

“God, doll,” Toji hums as he kisses you deeper, you’re trembling when his fingers slip up your thigh carefully, teasing and leaving goosebumps everywhere. His dark green eyes lock with yours as he pulls back. “You feel s’good, ya know that?”

“Do I?” You tease, he moans and kisses you again, while in front of your childhood home, it feels so… thrilling but terrifying.

Was Sukuna watching?

No way…

And if so, what would that make you feel?

You’re contemplating that as Toji finds you over your panties, you moan softly when rough fingers slip up and down them. “So hot, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You’re spreading your thighs for more, he feels so good, kisses taking over your addled mind, and you wonder if it can shove down the thoughts you’re having about your dumbass step brother. Thoughts you can’t have, shit you can’t do - even if either of you did want to.

Sukuna would never want you like that. He’s never called you pretty, not that he should, but he’s said the opposite all the time. He doesn’t know, calling you a fucking gremlin or whatever sucks sometimes, you don’t expect his compliments, but deep down a part wants them anyway. You get looking extra pretty for him, a fact you’ll take to your fucking grave.

Toji slips under your panties, you’re gasping when he touches your wet slit with expert fingers. “Soaked, huh doll? Need me to make ya feel good?”

“I’m… ah! Toji…” you grip his wrist, his thumb is circling on your clit now, it feels really fucking good, twitching against his touch. “Mnh…”

“Wanna cum f’me, pretty?” He’s rolling quicker, more pressure now, while he drags messy kisses on your neck.

“Um, I don’t fuck on the - ngh - first date, Toji.” He pulls back now, a smile tugging on his mouth.

“Was just gonna have you cum on my fingers - fuck, mouth if you want,” you’re blushing and he notices, chuckling again. “You’re cute.”

“Cute, huh?” You wonder what it would be like, you’ve always pictured it with Sukuna, his long fingers and black nails in your cunt, things you should never, you shove it back, focusing now. “You wanna finger me?”

“Wanna have you cum,” his voice is gruff, he’s not fucking around when he slips a finger in your soppy little cunt, your nails press into the leather of his jacket as he kisses you again. “Mmm, that’s it.”

Your eyes shut as he massages your cunt with his fingers, stretching you out and making you tense, thighs trembling on either side. For whatever stupid reason you can’t get fucking Sukuna’s body in a towel out of your damn mind, no matter how many times you shove it down, instead just getting wetter. You focus on kissing him, on feeling him, the squishing wetness loud in his car still running.

“That’s it, cum, I can feel it.” Toji’s words urge you on, as he sucks along your shoulder, sinking his teeth in as his fingers curl just so, and you feel yourself cum then, pressure building and releasing in your tummy.

“Ah!” You’re whining out, earning Toji’s grin against your skin, you feel his teeth lines along you, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “Toji, god…”

“You’re so wet.” He puts your panties back, a hand entangled in your hair now. “See, I wasn't gonna go that far.”

“Are you a gentleman?”

“Fuck no,” you giggle a bit. “But we don’t have to rush things. Are you gonna go out with me again?”

“I’d like that.” He kisses you once more, you’re a little dizzy, from your thoughts, your mind, when you walk back to the porch and Toji takes off.

Why do you feel bad?

Surely not for his ass.

Surely not for a man who is just… a jerk, who’s hot sure okay, Toji is too. You need to shove it down, all of it. You try to do just that, it’s still warm outside so the jackets were a silly idea, you unlock the door with your key, stepping inside and sighing as you feel the cool air conditioning hit your skin.

You slip off your shoes by the front door, picking them up and carrying them as you walk back up the stairs, yawning a bit. You know it’s late, so you try to be quiet when you finally walk into your room. You’re taking off that top and skirt, fingers touching the knobs of your dresser so you can find some comfy clothes to sleep in. Mom has everything you’ve ever owned in here still, so you have to sift through the old clothes.

Suddenly, you hear a rustle behind you, making you jerk and eye the mirror, nearly fucking screaming as you see something turning under your goddamn blankets.

“What the fuck!?” You walk over there now, seeing the tints of pink hair in the dark, as none other than Sukuna is in your goddamn bed.

You shove at the big lug of a fucking man, only for him to stop snoring and peek at you with eyes almost black, you tense as they hit you, as you realize you’re just in a bra and panties now. They drift down your body, when he leans up, yawning now, his look making you feel even wetter, even more needy than earlier.

“Are you pranking me? Get up…” Your voice is quiet, as he yawns, gripping your wrist then, tugging you until you almost straddle him over those sheets. You gasp at it, at how his hand brushes across your shoulder.

“Let him mark your perfect fucking skin?” He demands in a scratchy, husky voice, shocking you so much you blink, leaning back. You’re far too close to his hard length you feel under those sheets, against your inner thigh.

“Are you having some weird dream? Sukuna, it’s me…” You say your name, but he hears nothing with the blood rushing in his own ears, as he eyes that damn mark Toji left on your pretty shoulder. His thumb brushes it, while he pictures leaving marks everywhere. “Sukuna?”

He tugs you closer, until you’re sprawled over him, and he’s too fucking tired to stop it, to stop how badly he wants you - the girl he shouldn’t but can’t fucking help but want over anyone. You have no clue, he sees it in your shocked gaze, when he eyes your other shoulder, pristine and free from any marks.

“Did you like it, brat?” He asks softly, you don’t know what to say at that moment, you just look at him, at his lidded eyes and parted lips.

What do you say to that?

“Would you be mad if I did? I’m a grown up, y’know that?” He scoffs then, huge hand slipping up your bare spine, watching as your eyes flutter shut. “Sukuna…”

“Can’t answer, brat?”

“What’re you even doing in here?” You tug back a bit, but he just drags you back down, and soon you find yourself completely straddling him - Sukuna, your enemy, your… what is he exactly?

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