#reason it would be out on the floor like this is if his wrist pocket was dispelled and the only reason that would happen

[katlovesdbh]

A Very Cursed Thought;

So, Essek has his wrist pocket spell, yes? I have read a few fics where it could be dispelled, but most usually in the Fanon I've seen it has been ruled that it drops when he is killed.

Please please imagine that Essek gets got (and no worries, he has 2 (two) Clerics and a whole rest of the Nein invested in his eventual survival, he'll be fine), but yeah he Gets Got and, as the stuff spills out of his dimensional wrist pocket, please imagine the sound Sonic the Hedgehog Makes when he gets got and the golden rings pop out.

That is all XD

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[mattybsgroupie]

assignment | matt sturniolo

contents: fwb; fingering (f receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); (slightly) mommy kink; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: GOOD EVENING MY DARLINGS i wanted to apologize for the lack of sub matt. yes i was planning on posting cowboy!matt BUT i couldn’t resist his new glasses. and i might turn sub!nerd matt into a series. who knows. you've read the previous part, you know the deal. not proofread but enjoy anyways! love you guys so much, thankful for each and every one of you!

- ♡ -

i heard those same three rhythmic, now familiar knocks on my door. i already knew it was matt, always showing up earlier than what we agreed on. this time, i actually needed his help to record a video for an assignment our professor had given. i quickly got up from my bed, dragging my feet to the door and opening it.

i rested half of my body on the wood, tilting my head as i greeted matt with a smile. “you always show up earlier” i chuckled, letting him walk inside. matt seemed shy, as usual, but not so hesitant. “i mean, you called. of course i came” he said as he placed his books on my study table and left his backpack on the floor.

“you’re such a sweetheart, matt” i locked the door, making my way near him. i noticed that he froze with my statement, not quite sure of what to do. “have you finished yours already?”

“yeah, chris filmed it for me” he spoke, standing still on his feet while checking me out from head to toe. his eyes landed on the skirt i purposefully chose, the shortest i owned. it had plaid fabric and it could barely cover my thighs, let alone my ass. if i bent over, both my panties and ass would be on full display to him, along with my with white thigh highs. 

“good boy” i said as if it wasn’t that much of a big deal — as if he didn’t spend hours calling himself a good boy for me the last time he was here. “so, where do you think i should stay? do they care about light and stuff?” i asked, playfully posing. he snapped out of his trance and grabbed the cellphone from his pockets, mindlessly scrolling through the screen.

“no, not really” matt answered, cheeks flushed red. suddenly, he could no longer look me in the eyes, his blue orbs traveling to all the corners of my dorm. “wherever you’re comfortable, i guess”

i positioned myself and began to speak after he nodded, indicating my cue. i spoke what i had practiced several times, but having matthew staring at me like that made it incredibly difficult. i could feel the words vanishing from my brain as his blue eyes pierced through me, my palms becoming sweaty from the stress. i stuttered and that was enough to lose my line of thought, bringing both of my hands to my face, attempting to hide my mistake.

“no, you were doing great!” matt said, pausing the video and placing his phone on the table. he quickly got up from his chair, walking towards me.

“i'm embarrassed!” i blurted out, attempting to apologize beforehand.

“there’s no reason to be embarrassed. not a pretty girl like you” matt chuckled, his fingers touching my wrists and removing my palms from my face. now certainly my cheeks were flushed red — but i'd never let him know how deeply he affected me.

i took a deep breath, encouraged by his words, and adjusted myself again, finally managing to say what i had planned. after a while, i finished with a smile on my face, waiting for matt's signal, who once again gave me a nod. 

“yeah it's perfect— you're perfect” he smiled back, inviting me to sit next to him. “do you want me to… edit this for you?”

“would you do that for me?” i asked, my hand resting on his thigh. matt tilted his head, startled by the sudden touch, staring at me through his glasses. “yes, of course! anything for you!” a grin appeared on my face as i noticed how he shifted in his seat, trying to hide the growing tent under his jeans. 

“i like your new glasses, matt” i whispered, resting my elbow on the table and leaning my head against my hand, admiring how cute he looked when he was nervous. i could see his jaw clenched, his posture straight, the tiny drips of sweat that ran from his forehead to the shade of his newly shaved beard, his fingertips frantically typing something on my laptop, which he didn't even ask permission to open. he was trying so hard. 

“t-thank you” matt mumbled, still not looking at me in the eyes. i brought my free hand up to his cheek, my thumb gripping his chin and tilting his face towards me. matt's lips parted in awe and he gulped before letting out a deep sigh, staring at me through his lenses. “i like your... skirt” he confessed, ears burning with embarrassment.

“oh? this one?” i looked down, admiring my own legs crossed in an indecent manner in front of him. “what do you like about it?”

“just— how it fits” he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the white lace above my knees. “your t-thighs” he whispered. 

“do you miss 'em, matty?” i questioned, getting up from the chair and standing in front of him. i didn't loosen my touch, forcing matt to face my breasts, not sure where to look at. he gripped the corner of the table with one hand, pouring all his desperation and arousal into the old wood.

“yes, fuck.” matt nodded eagerly. “you just look so good”

“yeah? that’s why you came here for? to have another taste?” i teased, resting my hands over his shoulder as he clenched his thighs together in a failed attempt to hide his pathetic boner.

“no— i mean, yes!” he said, making me chuckle at his confusion. “just… just wanna be good for you. i’ll always do whatever you want me to” 

“oh, you poor little thing. whatever i want?” i asked one last time, finally getting closer to him. i put my thighs on each side of his body, gradually lowering my weight on his lap. matt sighed and immediately took his hands to my waist, groping my flesh. 

i smirked at his desperation and allowed my digits to wander across his face, brushing over his lips and tugging at his lower lip before reaching for his glasses, removing the frame and placing it on myself. the prescription wasn't too high, at least it wouldn't make me dizzy and i would be able to have some fun. 

matt seemed to enjoy the sight, feeling my breasts pressed against his chest and my ass rested on his thighs as i put on his glasses. i could feel his cock twitching in his pants, waiting for some relief, anything from me. 

“fuck” matt spoke as i brought his hands to the hem of my t-shit, granting him permission to remove it. he tossed the fabric somewhere around the room, leaving me with my ridiculously short skirt.

matt’s blue eyes widened after seeing my bare breasts for the first time — maybe it was the first time he had seen any boobs in person. “please, please, can i suck them?” he asked, shoving his face in between them while still waiting for my approval.

“go ahead” i cooed and he rapidly tilted his face, giving my nipple a long kitten lick. it was almost like he was back at my pussy, carefully analyzing the area and testing the waters, until he had the confidence to actually do something.

for a virgin, matt was way too good with his tongue. the muscle swirled around my hardened nub, his large hand groping my other tit as he whispered “thank you” over and over again.

matt wasn’t going to stop until i told him to, finally latching his lips around my nipple and starting to suck harshly, desperately, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth. my fingers tangled on his brown locks, a moan slipping from the back of my throat when he grazed his teeth on my sensitive skin.

“you wanna make me feel good, babyboy?” i asked amidst heavy sighs. matt didn’t stop sucking, looking up and nodding his head — but he knew he would have to use his words.

“yes mom-” matt stopped himself, realizing what was about to come out of his mouth. “yes” he repeated, hoping i wouldn’t have noticed.

“finish what you were saying” i commanded and he whined, embarrassed to speak the words on the tip of his tongue out loud.

“yes, mommy. wanna make you feel good” matt spoke, his messy hair, swollen lips and sweaty forehead making him even sexier. “but i d-don’t know how to”

“there you go. wasn’t so hard, was it?” i questioned rhetorically, removing the brown strands from his face. “i’ll teach you, sweetie. that’s what we’re for, right?” he nodded before lowering his hands to my ass, groping the flesh and opening my cheeks. 

one his hands managed to slip under my skirt, finally touching my soaked panties. he traveled his fingers across the fabric, trying to find my sweet spot. maybe he knew where it was, maybe he just wanted to tease me, but it didn’t take long until his digits brushed over my clit, making me gasp. he pulled my panties aside, just enough to get two of his fingers to stroke my pussy and play with my wet folds — how could he be so good?

i didn’t have to ask, he knew how much i needed him inside of me. my throbbing cunt rubbing against his jeans revealed my desperation, matt slowly bringing his middle finger to my entrance, circling it before pushing it inside.  

“good boy. now move slow for me, yeah? in and out of mommy” i praised, allowing him to start fucking me — but he was smarter than that. instead, he curled his finger inside of me, quickly meeting the sweet spot he’d been craving all along. “f-fuck! right there!” i moaned, throwing my head back when his thumb reached my clit.

it felt so good to grind my hips against his lap, frantically chasing for my orgasm as he pounded inside of me. “mommy, you- mhm!” matt whined, grabbing my attention. “you’re humping my cock mommy, it hurts so bad” he pleaded with needy, puppy eyes.

“didn’t you say you were gonna be a good boy for me?” i asked, starting to bounce on him. matt squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed with having to do so much at once.

“yes! ah— -i am!” he moaned, taking advantage of my distraction and slipping another finger inside. i groaned loudly as i felt the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “mommy, ‘m gonna…”

“don’t be so fucking pathetic, matthew” i said one last time, suddenly feeling a different wetness under me that wasn’t mine.

matt came untouched.

i could feel my walls squeezing his fingers, my wetness leaking down his hand. this threw me over the edge, my orgasm washing over me as i panted heavily, my entire body trembling over him as the pleasure took over me.

i held his shoulders as i came back from my high, feelings his kisses across my breasts, going upwards to my neck and my face before matt removed his fingers off me, raising his hand to his mouth. matt sucked his own digits, having another taste of me and taking his glasses back so he could see how fucked out i looked. i sealed our lips together, silently thanking matt, who soon decided to hide his face on the crook of my neck.

“matt, look at me” i called after coming back to my senses, scratching his back. 

“i came in my pants” he mumbled, not being able to look at me. “‘m embarrassed”

“if you wanna know” i started, grabbing his attention. “i think it was really hot” i smirked at him, watching his cheeks becoming red once again. he looked down to see the huge wet patch in his pants, denying with his head.

“why don’t you finish editing the video for me” i lifted his face, both palms cupping his cheeks. “and when you’re done i’ll take care of you and the mess you made?” 

matt nodded eagerly. he wasn’t only a good tutor, but an excellent student.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @mattscoquette @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @karttpet

- ♡ -

[pradaax]

Twisted

Song Mingi x Reader 18+

What could possibly go wrong with sleeping with your boss’ son?

Your red bottoms clacking as you entered the company, the stares didn't go unnoticed to you. You could say you always did enjoy a bit of attention.

You passed by the security and into the elevator. The doors opened showing the hallway that leads to the office of the man you weren't happy about seeing.

You didn't bother knocking and entered the office, there he was in the chair with his unbuttoned shirt, a drink in his hand and a girl in her bra on the desk "Why are you here?" He clicked his tongue placing his drink down.

"Scram." You demanded, your eyes bruised on the girl who started to pick up her clothes from the floor and ran out the office. You strolled up to the him. "Did he send you?"

You ignored him, your eyes running around the office room that smelt like fresh sex. A disgust look took over your face when your eyes landed on him.

You worked for Mr Song, Mingi’s father. You were loyal to him, he was your role model and you were proud to work for a hard working man who worked so hard to build a company from nothing to where it was now. A big corporation in Seoul.

Mr Song was a gentleman but his son was a totally womaniser though that wasn't the only reason why you loathed him it was also the fact that whatever his father built would come down to the ground if Mingi stayed like this.

It was a well known fact that he would always bring in different women to the office almost everyday but no one dared to say anything because the man also had anger issues.

"You need to put a stop to this." You warned throwing the files you were holding on the oak brown desk. "The sales have dropped by 15% and Park’s corporation is no longer wanting to partner." He lazily opened one of the files, scanning it before looking back up you since you were still standing.

The hatred feeling between you two was mutual, you both didn't like each other or even handle being in each other's presence. Mingi didn't like the fact that his own father trusted you more than him or how he treated you as if you meant something more than him.

"This has nothing to do with me, numbers dropped before I was in charge." Mingi’s voice hit your ears and you almost wanted to laugh at the stupid mark he made.

“Stop fooling around, you’re the CEO of Song corporation now. Grow up, Mingi.” Your statement made him poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue and raise a brow. He stood up stepping towards you.

“You have some confidence on you, walking in here telling me what to do and what not. I don’t know if you have been sucking my father’s dick but-”

The slap that had just landed on his face cut him off. He scoffed titling his head, his eyes not leaving yours as your ones danced between his. Mingi had crossed the line. “Don’t ever say such sick things.”

You turned to leave but the sudden grip on your wrist span you around. Your body was pressed against his one. You stared up at the taller male, before you had the chance to say something his slender fingers wrapped around your throat pushing you back to the couch.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widen as you fell on the couch, his fingers only tightening. Mingi leaned over, he was only inches away from your face. Anger in his eyes and the smell of whiskey was lingering around your nose.

“Should I be the last face you see?” A creepy smile making its way to his face. His eyes growing as your face turned red, he was crashing your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around his wrist trying to loosen his grip but that didn’t work and you took the opportunity to dig your nails into his neck too.

“G-Go to hell.” You managed to spit out, his eyes only darkening more. A wince leaving his mouth when your nails dag deeper.

The door opening caught both of your attention. San strolled in with a frown on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Did I walk in at the right or wrong time?”

Mingi’s grip loosened and he stood straight rubbing his neck. You coughed gasping for air, your throat completely dry.

“I won’t even ask.” San informed, you glared at the taller man in the room before standing up and heading to the door. “Yes, go run to Mr Song.” Mingi’s voice was heard before you slammed the large wooden door shut.

You pulled out the ringing phone and it was Mr Song. You put it on your ear hearing his cheerful voice.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“He’s out of control, Mr Song. Sales have dropped by 15% and the Parks no longer want to partner.”

“I will take care of him, go back to see him in a few days.”

-

You took a deep breath before opening the large doors. It was night and no one was in the company besides some security who let you know that Mingi was still in.

The office was dim and the chair was facing the city lights outside the large window. Mingi didn’t bother turning around. Your heels clacking in the silent room.

You bite your lip, this was a bit unusual. “Mingi?” He didn’t answer but you knew he was there, the chair might’ve had a long backrest but you could still see the man’s hair. You flicked the lamp near him on. You frowned moving even closer trying to see his face.

You almost gasped when his features came in sight. His lip was busted, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek and a light bruise around his eye. Mingi’s attention went on yours. He had a drink in his hand that he had now placed down and a bloody handkerchief.

“What happened to you?” You were now in front of him, looking down with concern drawn over your face. Your hand reaching out to the first aid kit next to him. You quickly pulled out wipes, you dapped it on the cut on his cheek making him wince. “Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Why would you get into a fight? The press conference is in a few days!” You stated purposely pressing hard on his cut. “He scratched my car, what did he expect?”

Your mouth almost fell open at the stupid excuse to start a fight. “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” You glared at him, he let out a small laugh. It was your first time seeing him genuinely laugh which made him bloom. “Read my mind.”

You started to clean the cut on his lip, the silence was comfortable for some reason. You felt his stare on you but you ignored that and continued with your task though shortly Mingi gently grabbed your wrist pushing your hand away.

Your eyes met and it felt like he had casted a spell on you. You didn’t realise how close you really were to him yet you didn’t move.

“If you stay that close, I’m going to kiss you.” He softly whispered, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you because he started leaning closer you stayed still like you were waiting for your lips to connect with his plump ones.

Mingi grabbed the back of your head closing the gap between you two. The kiss was anything but sweet. The taste of metallic coming in your mouth due to the cut on his lip but that didn’t bother you.

With his free hand he wrapped it around your waist pulling you down on his lap. You could feel his bludge growing by the second under you. Your hands wrapped around his dark hair, lightly tugging on it as you started to sway your hips making him let out a groan. Mingi pulled away latching his mouth on your neck, planting soft kisses down your chest as he took your blazer off and pulled your dress down revealing your hard nipples.

His thumb teasingly circled around your nipple causing a moan to escape. He grabbed your tit and his warm tongue danced around the nipple before sucking it.

“Oh god.” You murmured tugging more on his hair, you haven’t felt anything like this in a while. You felt the wetness between your legs and wanted more.

You stood up dropping to your knees and unbuttoned his pants, with his help they were pulled down. You bit your lip seeing how big he really is.

You grabbed his length in your hand and Mingi had a fistful of your hair pushing your head down. “Spit on it.” He ordered and you did so but he took that chance to shove himself down your throat.

You started to bob your head, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. “Taking it like a good girl.” He smirked when you looked up at his face, your cheeks were rosy, your brows pinched together and your hair was messy since he was still tugging on it.

Mingi grabs your arms pulling you up in a second, he stood up and pushed you down on his desk. He lifted your dress up and ripped your stockings.

He moved your panties to the side as he leaned over you. “So wet for me.” He whispered biting your neck. Mingi took out a condom from his drawer and put it on after ripping off the package.

“Don’t flatter yoursel-” A whimper cut you off when he positioned himself to your entrance and with no warning slammed into you, stretching you out.

“F-Fuck you.” You mumbled digging your nails into his shoulders, his pace was nowhere near gentle. “I’m already doing the fucking, doll.” Mingi licked your lips, grinning hard seeing the mess you were and how you barely were able to form words.

“I think I like you better when you’re moaning more than talking.” He purred against your neck, his thrusts not dying down.

He kept abusing your insides over and over. His hands were running down your body. He stood straight placing your leg on his shoulder and holding onto your hips keeping you in place as he kept slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow.

“You have a pretty cunt for such a horrible bitch.” He groaned watching how his length was disappearing inside you.

You pulled out the middle finger at him, you felt light headed from all the pleasure and the heat rushed through your body. You arched your back when he started to rub your swollen clit.

With one thrust he pushed himself so deep inside you, both of your hips now touching. No one’s ever been that deep and you loved it. Your legs twitched and you released over his cock. He jerked inside you with a groan you knew he was done.

He pulled out throwing the condom in the trash under his desk. Mingi fixed himself up, you were still on the desk unable to move. “Did I fuck you that good?” He smiled proud of himself making you roll your eyes.

He carried you making your arms wrap around his neck. Mingi gently placed you on the couch and covered you with the blanket. You felt sleep taking over you when he started to play with your hair.

“I didn’t get into a fight. I was jumped by Mr Song’s guards. Funny how my father shows his love, right?”

Twisted

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

"I want you to destroy me so I'll feel better"

Convincing Simon "Ghost" Riley to try something new. Well...not new for either of you, but a first for your relationship.

CW: name calling, degradation, violent choking (all consensual)

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

"You like what?"

Simon stands in front of you, hands in his hoodie pocket.

"I like being choked...until I pass out."

You repeat slowly. You know it was fucked up. You know it was bad. Everytime you did it you could feel your braincells dying. You sit on your hands at the edge of the bed. There's a moment of silence as he stares down at you.

"No."

He gives you that signature cold look of his: reserved for when you're in an argument you can't win. Or one he doesn't want you to win. 'You know this is useless. Give up. Quit while you're ahead.' It's like his voice was in your head.

"Are you afraid you're gonna hurt me?"

You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

"It's a stupid idea. Best to get that out of your head. Now."

He adjusts his mask before walking off.

"Please?"

You hug him from behind while he cooks eggs.

"No."

"Please?"

You wrap your arms his neck and lie on top of him while watching TV.

"No. Stop asking."

"Please?"

You're in bed when he goes to turn off the lights.

"..."

He resorts to ignoring you. You're getting closer to cracking him.

It goes on like this for two weeks. Usually he gives in by now, but you're making progress. Instead of engaging, he just leaves the room now.

"How did you even find out you liked that?"

He doesn't look at you while he spoons cereal into his mouth, mask rolled up just enough.

"I think it's something about an abusive ex choking me."

You take a bite of your cereal.

"Something about 'reclaiming your power after past traumas'. At least that's what my therapist said. Not sure if I believe that, but I can't think of any other reason I like it."

You shrug as you chew.

"Hm."

He keeps eating.

Breakfast is silent after that. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

"Can't believe I'm doing this..."

He mumbles, kneeling over you while you lie on the floor.

"C'mon you've done this dozens of times."

You smile up at him.

"That's different and you know that."

He looks down at you, slightly disappointed.

"Sorry."

"It's fine..."

It's quiet. He shifts and the floorboards creak.

"So just until I pass out, then you can stop. I'll wake right up after."

You rub your hands on his knees.

"Mhm. Tap out whenever you want."

His gaze is intense, like he was fighting with himself. He places a hand on your neck gently.

"Can you be a little mean?"

Your heart races.

"Fucks sake, choking ain't enough for you?"

He wraps the other hand around your throat lightly.

"Would it be fucked up if I fought back?"

You flash a cheeky smirk.

"Don't do that."

He rubs his thumbs against your skin.

"Ok. Ready."

You take a deep breath and relax. He clears his throat and puts some pressure on your neck. You nod, looking up at him.

"Hm."

He applies more pressure until you can barely breathe. You take shallow breaths and close your eyes. His grip gets tighter. You can't inhale. You shift your hips under his.

"Don't. Move."

His words send a chill up your spine. He never used this tone with you before. It was terrifying. You try to swallow nervously. The last few exhales you have leave your lungs.

"Look at me."

You keep your eyes closed, a few rough taps to your face snap them open. His eyes are glossed over and dark, a frenzied shark. You find it in your chest to whimper.

"Shut the fuck up."

His hands wrap around you harder. It's starting to hurt. You lift your hands to grab his wrists. He gives a solid shake, banging your head on the floor and making you see stars. He leans down, pressing his masked mouth to your ear.

"Told you. Don't. Move."

Your lips opened and closed like a fish out of water. Swallowing became impossible. Your eyes watered, you could feel Simon's hands shaking. Then, darkness. It's quiet, peaceful, only lasts less than a second. And just like that, you're conscious. A delicious head rush and breath of fresh air leaves a goofy smile on your face.

"Unbelievable..."

Simon shakes his head, leans back on his knees, and huffs. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, catching your breath. Simon scoots back and you watch as he adjusts himself.

"Have fun?"

You tease. Before you can rag on him more, he yanks both your bottoms off and sits you right on his hard dick.

"Fuckin hell. You really do like that shit, huh?"

He grips your ass and glides you up and down as your dripping wetness clamps down on him. You're already drooling from the sensation of him parting you wide open so easily. You always get your way at the end of the day. You knew it. He knew it.

[star1ight0]

Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!

I crave comfort so here

Tw : Ed /sh

Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.

This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.

Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.

You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.

After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"

You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you

You okay kiddo?

Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day

Are you sure

Yeah

If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late

The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.

A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number, social media accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.

Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week or a bad day.

This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.

Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.

"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger

"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "

You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot on the floor. Yeah, you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door

"Kid? It's us can we talk?"

Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door

"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "

"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood," you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap. Your dad Hizashi, was standing at the foot of your bed about to leave when he was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.

"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"

"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"

He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.

"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"

He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.

"here, I'll put it in our room," he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave he stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.

"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"

He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it and seeing ll the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.

Both had decided to stay in your room till morning, planning to talk to you about this night of unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you ultimately failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.

"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.

"sorry i-"

"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"

Shouta says looking up at his husband

"you could have really hurt yourself kid"

"i know I just - "You were cut off by a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "Everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nodded in agreement.

"Why did you come to us kiddo?

"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."

You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.

"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"

You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate if you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teacher's wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with setbacks here and there, but by setting up a new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dads were able to help you through it

Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am

Requests are open but slow

Please reach out if you need to to!!

[sugar-plum-writer]

No One Else <3

Tags: Creampie; rough sex; cum-play; size kink; over-stimulation; public sex; whored out; spanking; unprotected sex; manhandling; MDNI (18+!); smut; NSFW + NSFW; Public Sex; humiliation; degradation kink; porn with little plot; fem!reader

A/n: Finally I am back from Hiatus~ my college exams over woo-hoo! enjoy this fic~ feel free to send asks and your ideas for other fics~

Synopsis: What happens when your boss- The Gojo Satrou your boss the CEO sees you fucking the manager instead of him? How could you? aren't secretaries of CEO's meant to seduce the CEO's?

Word count: 2.2k

Gojo

Moans escaped your lips as you sat on your manager's lap; you've always been the pretty obedient secretary everyone loved- hell you were always looked up to by the people around you at work. The perfect "secretary" of CEO Gojo Satoru of the multi-billion dollar company "The Gojo Corporation" just their logo the italic fancy "G" was enough for everyone to bow their heads in respect.

Your boss being the most sought after bachelor- tall, handsome, rich, future head of the Gojo Corporation who could manipulate the global market with a lift of his finger. You liked him who would not? though you never confessed as well- why would he ever look your way when top models, actresses, etc where always around him?

"Who knew you were such a natural huh? CEO Gojo must sure love having his way with you", kissing your neck and whispering in a deep voice- his eyes darkened as he smirked biting your neck and leaving hickeys

"Ah- ", your eyes glossy as you grinded on his bulge trying to earn even a little bit of stimulation- "B- Boss Satoru… hah…he never fucked me till now", you blurted out as you panted

You were fucking your manager- scandalous? yes; if anyone saw you right now? Hell, Gojo will chew you out alive and even fire you for breaking the rules. The only reason you were even taking this risk was because the manager was hot and your brain just had lost it today from stress

As you looked into his eyes as you kissed him- the olive green eyes nearly hypnotized you, he could never beat your boss Gojo's hotness but hey? who can blame you for getting the second-hottest guy to fuck you? especially with how frustrated with work you are these days.

Non-stop meetings, travel from one country to another, prepare your boss Gojo's documents, schedule, deal with his affairs and what not

Gotta Blow off some steam cause working overtime for money is not enough to fulfill your needs

"Is that so? hm-", chuckling darkly he grabbed you by the jaw "Well- a secretary as good as you deserve to be fucked we-"

Before the next words could be uttered the door suddenly opened- making your jaw drop in horror. It was your boss- Gojo Satoru the CEO

His Italian leather shoes shined as usual- was it the new Armani shirt he was wearing? your eyes looked him up and down nervously as you got off your manager's lap. Sharp black suit, his white hair swept back making him look even bossier than before- and the cold look in his azure eyes- made you gulp

You are fucked today, aren't you?

"Oh, sir! This-" your manager tries to speak, his hands shaking as got up from the chair, "Fired"

Without batting his eyes he just walked towards you, hands in his pockets- sharp- intimidating- completely different from how he normally was

The look he was giving you made you shudder- your legs nearly going weak

"Boss- this! I can explain-" Coming to your senses you scrambled to explain

"How annoying", he grabbed you by the jaw tilting your head as he gazed at the hickies your manager had left even more pissed, "Is my secretary this much of a whore? Should have added that to your resume tsk"

"S-Sir!- please- I really"

"Really what? my dear secretary?", his grip tightening on your wrist as he dragged you with him outside. The whole office floor was looking at you two awe-struck about what the hell was going on

Why is the secretary's neck covered in hickies today?

How did the Miss perfect secretary get on Mr. Gojo's bad side?

"Do you wanna be fucked that badly?", with a whisper he chomped down on your neck- teeth grazing your neck- over the hickies the manager had left- blood coating his lips as he looked into your eyes- so possessively it was scary

"G-Gojo- ah! it hurt-", wincing you tried to push him away making him only pin you against the wall biting harder- as if ingraining into your bones on who you belonged to

"Gojo- Sir-!" gasping you cling to him as tears trickled down your eyes, "E-Everyone is- hah look-!" Before any words could be uttered, he kissed you hard with his tongue biting your lips and making you breathless

"Hah so?"

"Taking the risk of getting fired for him is fine? fucking me the man who owns the place is embarrassing? huh", pulling back- a string of saliva connected you both; he brought his knee up and grinded against your cunt. The expensive suit probably worth more than your months of salary combined covered in your slick.

"Ah-" you gasped as the sudden wave of pleasure hit you- "Gojo!" eyes wide you dug your nails into his back- your poor cunt was ruthlessly being abused by him right now

"Please- Merc-y! ah-", you squirmed pathetically but he just got even harsher

"Shall we show them all, how much of a whore you are? hm? The oh-so-perfect secretary is a hidden slut?", he whispered darkly sending goosebumps down your spine

It was pathetic how even in such a situation your cunt just kept getting wetter- your slick covered his pants as his knee continued to grind against your pussy. All sloppily and puffy asking for mercy as it dripped in front of the whole office.

"I-I am not a Slu-! ah!" you moaned again as you squirmed, "Then what are you getting even wetter for huh?", smirking he leaned in, "You wanna cum so bad? Shall I make you cum my dear secretary?"

"W-What? G-Gojo please…'tis too m-mu-" Before another word could be said his grinding got even harsher, "Ah- ahh-" gasping you arch your back cumming all over his pants- juices all gushing out dripping all over the pristine floor

"hah- ah..." you panted your brain hazily- hell your legs were still shaking from the intense orgasm- "Gojo…Sir..", you gazed up at him with your glassy eyes

"Fuck…" he whispered under his breath

"Guess I really should have fucked you before huh?", removing his tie he dropped it on the floor while simultaneously he removed his coat- god- he wanted to fuck you till he owned you- the way you were looking at him was better than all imaginations he conjured up while he jerked off thinking of you

"Y-Your heard everything? i-inside?", hearing his words made your eyes widen- goosebumps spreading across your skin after all how long was he standing? how did he know? so many questions swirled your already hazy brain

"I did", with a smirk he spoke, his voice strained by how much he was holding himself back from his ramming his dick into you

"A good secretary deserves to be fucked well right?", with a dark animalistic gaze he leaned in as he whispered- his deep voice enough to make you lose your mind; god have mercy

You don't know why but the way he said it made the walls of your cunt clench tight oozing with desire- You might at this point give in to being fucked in front of the whole office

"Mr.Gojo should have had his way long ago huh? How much of a natural you are", he continued to whisper as his hands went to your clitoris stroking it and making you moan even harder as you held onto him

"Ah-", your brain already felt hazy from the previous intense orgasm, "'toru- please..please..I wanna cum! Please!", the pleasure again was making your brain numb- the whispers, his hand on your clit, stroking it- teasing you while you gasped and moaned in front of the whole office

"I don't think so- after all which good secretary goes and fucks her manager instead of her boss huh?", he smacked your cunt- making it even more puffy as pre-cum dripped out of you

"N-No…Ah! I mean-", whining your grip on him tightened even more- tears spilled out- the pleasure was too good, and at this point, you did not care he was fucking you in front of the whole office

"You keep forgetting whose paycheck you are on dear- what about him even made you think he could give it to you better huh?", pissed he pinched your clitoris making you mewl and cum instantly

It was too much- he was too mean- the pleasure was too much- you were nothing but a mess right now- cum dripping all over, tear-stained face- voice cracked from all the moaning- you wanted to save your poor cunt from more abuse- but it felt so good

He looked so hot hell just when you thought he could not get hotter he just did

The carnal gaze, his icy cold blue eyes looking into yours, tie and coat on the floor, shirt unbuttoned, his hair slight bit messy- while he made you cum again and again- his deep voice- you were melting under him all the while the employees just stood stunned

"If you had seduced me like a good secretary does- you would not be like this you know?", smirking he sat down on the couch kept in the center of the office floor; all the eyes still on you two, "It's time you really show the skills you got darling"

Mind hypnotized by the sheer desire you were feeling right now- you literally crawled to him- legs shaking from the previous orgasms as you looked up at him- embarrassed, shameful, literally you felt so humiliated right now you could die but hey? even god won't blame you right? he was so- hypnotic it's like he just knew how to have his way

"Y-Yes Sir...", pushing your hair aside he brought your face close to his dick, "I don't think I need to tell you want to do?"

"No sir...", hazily you started sucking on his dick dragging your tongue from the base to the tip- he was so big; you knew he was big but this big? the veins on his dick pulsing as his hand gripped the back of your head

"Fuck..", he tossed his head back, "-should have done this long back"

You kept sucking, pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you kept going- tongue swirling around the tip

"Shit- Fuck-" , without a warning he rammed his dick deep into your mouth- deep throating you as he buried your face into his crotch

"G-Gojo- ah!", chocking on his dick tears trickled down your eyes from pleasure. His cum dripped out of your mouth, your face covered in cum as you gazed up at him. Next thing you knew he pulled you onto his lap and rammed his dick into your pouty sloppy and pathetic cunt- he was too big- your poor hole had to work overtime to adjust to his length with how big he was

"'toru..", you looked at him in the eyes with the last bit of rationality gone. You really had lost it today- how will you ever face the office from here on out? secretary letting her boss fuck her in the middle of the office floor and even sucking his dick for him? That too the CEO Gojo Satoru of the "Gojo Corporation" quite the headline for the morning news- the list goes on as you imagined the headlines

"Dragged from fucking manager to boss!"

"What's the relationship between Mr. Gojo and his secretary?"

"Did Mr. Gojo pay her? How much money was involved?"

"Secret revealed! learn to suck Dick from Mr. Gojo's secretary! Exclusive interview from sugar daddy website editor!"

...

Smirking he started stroking your clit again rubbing your clitoris- fingers moving in circles teasing you so much you could hit him- too bad your whole body was shaking right now. The smirk that always made your heart flutter, was making your heart flutter even now; though you tried to bury the feelings it never worked and certainly not right now

"You really are quite the piece of work~ huh dear secretary?", he whispered as he continued to jerk you off while his dick kept ramming into you, "'toru! ah! 'tis too much...I can't!...I really can't!", digging your nails onto his back you continued to moan

"You can, you are a good secretary of mine aren't you? be a good girl and cum", increasing his pace he stretched your folds making you curl your toes from pleasure and intensity your vision went white for a minute you though you could see the gates of heaven

"I-'m cumming!...ah! 'toru!" burying your face of the crook of his neck you came again at this point you had no idea how many times you came- all you knew was just pleasure in your hazy mind as you knocked yourself out exhausted

Little did you know Gojo in the mean time you were asleep on his lap- continued to make the employees work unbothered of everything that happened as he carried you in his arms- all security footage and everything was over-ridden and edited- you were all his after all- and only he get's to have his way like this with you

As for your Manager may lord have mercy on him, how dare he think he could lay his hands on you?

"Just say the word and it's yours after all- there is nothing I Gojo Satoru cannot do all you gotta do you open your mouth darling~"

Link to my Masterlist!

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: Traveling. Any annoying but necessary part of any actors job for the non-traveling party. But the welcome homes? They are oh so fucking sweet. Tags: it's filth with some cute plot, shower sex, kisses, more banter than is reasonable in polite society Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author’s Note: Y'all listen. I know. Okay. It's been a while, and to be honest? I started this in fucking January, but hey. It's here now, right? We're all chill? No one's upset? Good. LOVE YOU!

He’d been away for days, but it felt like weeks. Your feed has been covered in photos of him. The algorithms have you pretty much figured out. You’d been keeping up with his interviews, watching clips of his adorably awkward award acceptance speech. It wasn’t a surprise award, but it didn’t matter that he was prepared for it. He was incapable of being acknowledged for his achievements without turning into the equivalent of a turtle hiding in its shell. You’d have reached out to hold his hand and ground him if you could, but you’d been here. Alone. Missing him. But all that was soon to change.

He was on his way home. Annoyingly, his flight had been delayed, but as you stared up at the JFK arrivals board and it read: ‘Arrived’, you couldn’t help the bubbling up of excitement and giddy nervousness. It seemed like Tony was picking up on it as well because he stood against your leg, pawing at your thigh until you picked him up. He’d been missing his dad and had taken more comfort in your presence since he’d left. 

Your ears perked when the announcement that the baggage from his flight was about to begin its rounds through the baggage claim area. Your phone vibrated in the thigh pocket of your leggings. You gave Tony a quick squeeze before setting him back on the floor and taking your phone out. You smiled at the preview of the text you’d just received before you swiped to see the rest. 

‘Your fine ass better be waiting for me down there.’ 

You smirked before typing out a teasing reply. 

‘Got stuck in traffic a few times but I’m here. I hate Newark btw.’ 

You watched the dots appear and couldn’t help the audible laugh that escaped when you read his next message. 

‘Newark!?’ 

You interrupted him with a quick ‘I’m joking!!!’ before you could see what he was typing next. Then after a brief pause, the dots reappeared before his reprimand. 

‘You know you’re this close to the find-out stage of fuckin around?’ 

‘Oh? What if that’s exactly what I want?’ 

‘👀’

‘Not that I want to rush through the fuckin around part 😏’  

“I’ll be taking my sweet fucking time…don’t worry.”

You startled at his audible reply and your eyes shot up from your phone and met his as Tony pulled at the leash in your hand to reach him. He looked a bit tired but happy. His smile was wide across his stubbled face, quirking up at the corner when you smiled back. 

“Hey buddy!” he said, handing you his pillow before bending down to scoop Tony up into his arms. “I missed you!” he swooned in the adorable baby voice he reserved for his furry son. “Did you miss me too?” He rubbed Tony’s head and then his tummy. “Such a good boy!” 

You smiled at the two of them, pulling Tony’s leash from your wrist and handing it to Dylan. Tony would be stuck to him like glue now. 

“Hey, baby,” he said softly before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. One just long enough to make you the tiniest bit dizzy and eager for more. 

You blinked away distracting thoughts. “Do you have much luggage?” 

Dylan shook his head. “Just this,” he said pointing at his backpack, “and one bag on the turnstiles.” 

“Should be over there, they just announced it,” you said, taking a few steps toward the baggage claim area.

“Nice!” he said, hiking Tony up onto his shoulder a bit before he followed after you. 

His bag passed in front of him and he hefted it off the belt and popped out the handle and you took it from him so he could focus on the excited ball of fur in his arms. You set his pillow on it and wheeled it behind you toward the cab that was waiting out front. As much as you hated early morning airport runs, you were glad his 4 AM delayed arrival made the whole airport experience a lot smoother. Fewer people. Less traffic. You’d been able to get in and out without so much as a sideways glance from anyone else. 

“Hey you,” he said as he slumped in the seat next to you, Tony taking up the little bit of space between you. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling back at him. 

It was just after 5 AM and you’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Originally, he was supposed to have gotten in at midnight and had been scheduled to arrive at Newark, but his flight had been canceled. When he called you to let you know, you were already getting ready to catch the Uber you’d called to take you to the airport. You had a habit of being too punctual. But that also meant that you had a hard time settling and only managed a short nap before you got up to head to JFK. You were a bit tired, but feeling his warmth next to you for the first time in a while was enough of a comfort to fight off the droop of your sleepy eyes. You wanted to see his smile, the upturned tip of his nose, the lopsided smile he sported as he pet Tony. Sleep could wait. 

The drive back to the loft was rather uneventful. Traffic was light, you weren’t sure you’d ever made it the Carey Tunnel faster than you just had. When you hopped out of the car, Dylan gathered his bags from the back of the car and you headed up to the apartment. Home. It was always a comfortable place, but it was warmer when he was in it.

“Smells nice in here…” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his shoulders sagged in relaxation. “I missed it.” 

“And I missed you.” You stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist and he quickly pulled you to his chest, looping his arms over your shoulders and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

“You did, huh?” he chuckled, the heat of his exhaled breath warming your skin. 

“Mhm…” you hummed, laying your cheek against his chest. The loft was dimly lit by a single lamp near the sofa in the living room and the streetlights that filtered in through the large windows. It added to the comfort you felt in his arms. 

“I missed you more,” he whispered.

“Impossible.” 

He sighed out a long breath, holding you tight to his chest before he pulled back, his hands clasped around your waist, eyes locked to yours. The warm, honey-brown hue of them sent a shiver down your spine, of course, it didn’t help that he’d begun to work his hands under the hem of your shirt, his fingertips pressing just a little more firmly into the bare skin covering your ribs when he leaned down to kiss you. 

His lips were insistent, the kiss at the airport clearly not satiating the need that had built during your time apart. It was a comforting reminder that his infatuation with you must be at least somewhat comparable to your own. 

You moaned when his lips wandered along your jaw and latched to your throat just below your ear. Not to be outdone and wanting a little audible thrill of your own, you were satisfied at the deep groan that emanated from the back of his throat when one of your roaming hands slipped down between your bodies to graze across the front of his thigh until it was cupping him through his sweatpants. 

“Definitely missed that,” he breathed out across your collarbone before pushing your hair back and sliding the collar of your shirt aside to access more of your skin. 

You laughed softly before it morphed into a half-whispered moan of his name when his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin above your breast. “Fuck…” you breathed, squeezing your hand around him eliciting an appreciative grumble from him that you felt vibrate the aching bit wet skin he’d been sucking on your chest. 

When you released your grip to slip your hand behind the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed your wrist. “Not yet…” he chuckled when he pulled back to see you scowling at him. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling at you, brushing an errant hair back from the place where it hung in your eyes, “I’m gonna make you scream…” 

You swallowed thickly. 

“I’d just rather not reek like a man who’s known only seat 23A for 10 hours when I do it.” 

You chuckled softly. “Well…” you smiled back before reaching both hands around behind him, “then you better get this,” you squeezed his ass, “fine thing in the shower then.” You gave him a gentle spank. 

He laughed and pressed a kiss into your hair. “Thirsty little monster,” he said, running his hand down your arm. “Join me?” he said, pleading gaze meeting yours. 

You nodded and he took your hand, lacing your fingers together and leading you through the apartment toward the bathroom. The gentle squeeze of his hand in yours sent a satisfying ripple of warmth through your body. Just as you’d made it through the door to the bathroom, you tugged on his hand and swung his body to pin him against the counter of the vanity. 

He let out a soft huff at the gentle impact and smiled down at you as you grabbed at the hem of his shirt and yanked it roughly up over his body. His bare chest heaved as your eyes roved over him, your hands following your gaze across his pecs, through the soft hair, down his abs, settling on the waistband of his sweats before you began to crouch in front of him as you slid them down his thighs to pool at his feet. 

You looked at him from between his thighs and watched as his brown eyes turned near-black, crouching there longer than was necessary to achieve the task, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Fucking tease…” he muttered under his breath before he hauled you up in front of him and stripped your top off, tossing it across the room before he latched onto your throat and bit down. 

While you writhed in his arms, his hands warmed up your back until his fingers worked open the clasp of your bra. He slipped his fingers under the straps and slid them free of your shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. 

“Mmm…” he mused, looking down at your chest before he leaned forward and captured your lower lip between his teeth and pulled it back slightly before releasing it to kiss down the column of your throat. He cupped you breast and brought his lips to the peak and flattened his tongue in a wide sweep before sealing his lips to suck your nipple until it was taut and pebbled.

“Dylan…” you groaned, your hands tangling into his hair.

He held you against his body and swapped your positions until your lower back was pressed against the vanity. He nipped at your chest before he finally pulled back and lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them from you, throwing them into a heap with the rest of your discarded clothing. Then he slotted himself between your thighs. “Shower’s right there…” he titled his head in its direction, “and yet here we are…” he smiled, his fingertips trailing down from your arms, along your ribs and waist until they teased at the elastic of the last piece of clothing you were left wearing.  

“Here we are…” you repeated, looking down your body at his hand as it slipped into your underwear. You fell forward into his chest when you felt his teasing, barely there touch where you were now aching to feel it. Your sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed.

He leaned in and grinned against the skin of your throat before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the tendon running the length of it. “Something wrong?” he teased, still not touching you the way you wished he would. 

“Please…” you whispered. 

The little amused noise he made only frustrated you more, because Instead of giving in to your need, he hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear and stepped back from you to slide them free from your legs. He twirled them around his long index finger before letting them slip out of his hands to the floor. His eyes roamed over you, exposed to him now, perched on the counter. “Fucking perfect…” he breathed, giving his head a slight shake.

You flushed under his attentive gaze, your own eyes catching on the obvious sign of his own interest tenting the front of his boxer briefs. “Talkin’ about yourself?” you finally managed. 

He smiled and shook his head. 

“You should be…” you sighed, “but you could stand to be just a bit more naked…” you pointed to his underwear. 

He laughed. “Fair,” he said before turning around to turn on the shower. He looked back at you, smirking as he hooked his thumbs in the band of his boxers. When he slid them down his thighs the need you felt for him was almost unbearable. He held out a hand to help you down. “Time to get you wet,” he said with a smirk. 

“Too late.” 

His brows shot up his forehead. “Fuck… me…” he muttered

You stepped past him, your hands gliding over his naked torso, and into the shower. “That’s the plan.” 

He followed after and closed the door, the glass quickly began to fog with the steam as you stood under the spray of the faucet. Even though you knew the water was hot, it almost felt cool on your heated skin. Dylan watched you as you ran your hands over your body before he reached out, gripping your hips. He shoved you back against the wall and his lips crashed into yours. 

You reached up clasped around his neck, your hands tangling into the wet strands of his hair, deepening the kiss and tasting the faint hint of mint on his tongue. His teeth grazed over your bottom lip, pulling it taut before he kissed along your jawline. 

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath against your throat.

“Soap’s over there,” you sighed, jutting your chin to the shelf in the corner. 

“Right… showering…” his teasing mouth paused and he pulled back from you. “You’re so fucking distracting…” he groaned, his grip on your hips shifting to your ass before he squeezed it in both of his palms. 

You grinned and wet your lower lip with your tongue. 

“Not helping.”

You laughed before you pushed him away enough to grab the body wash from the shelf and squeeze it onto his loofa. “Lemme help then,” you said, gesturing for him to turn around in front of you, the water now striking him in the chest. 

He didn’t protest, and quickly spun around as you took a small step closer, so your wet body was pressed briefly against him before you began to scrub his shoulders and upper back. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, rolling his neck. 

You tickled him enough to raise his arms so you could wash them both thoroughly. You smiled watching him noticeably relax his shoulders. You washed down his back, sliding the loofa down to the dips in his low back and over his perfect ass. 

“Taking your time back there…” he chuckled. 

“Stop having such a nice ass and maybe I’d make quicker work of it.” 

He shook a bit with a contained laugh. “Noted.” 

You finally relented, taking one last look at his soapy cheeks before you reached around to scrub his chest and stomach, not spending too much time before reaching down and squeezing the loofa at his belly button and letting the soap begin to run down his body. Your free hand followed after it until it was teasing at the coarse hair, brushing just where you knew he was dying for you to touch him. 

“Relentless fucking tease–” 

You cut off his complaint by wrapping your hand around his sudsy length and pumping him just once. “You were saying?” you breathed against his back before you kissed his shoulder blade before you pumped him again. 

He groaned, his head falling forward. “I’ll shut up… just don’t fucking stop.” 

You beamed with pride. It wasn’t like he never begged, but it was far less common than your own pleadings that more frequently bounced off the walls of this room. You rewarded its rarity by picking up the pace with your hand, pinning him against you with the other hand pressing against the front of his thigh, the loofa long forgotten at his feet. 

He stuttered forward, one hand coming up to hold his weight against the tiled wall the other grasping gently at your wrist, not stopping you, but guiding your hand. “Fuck,” he cursed, the last consonant of it coming out shuddered and low.

You were growing more and more impatient with each second. The ache between your thighs was forcing you to squeeze them together for some kind of relief. You moaned in frustration, your pace faltering. 

Dylan squeezed your wrist and stilled your hand. “Someone sounds needy…” he whispered, pulling your hand free of him and swapping your positions. He pressed you back against the wall and grabbed your body wash from the shelf, squeezing some into his palm. 

You watched him warm his hands together, lathering the gel into foamy suds in those gorgeous fucking hands that you knew he was about to touch you with. 

He smirked at the audible sound of you swallowing before he cupped one of your breasts, his other hand snaking around you, his fingers teasing the dimples of your lower back. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his nose nudging your chin up enough for him to run his tongue up the length of your throat before he kissed you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest, your skin pebbled with goosebumps, your body sang under his touch. You’d missed him. God, how you’d missed him. It should be against the Geneva Convention for him to be away from you this long. Torture, pure and simple. But this? This was as close as you could imagine to what it might feel like to be moments from dying of thirst in a vast desert only to stumble into the cool waters of an oasis.

He slid his hand down your body and, without a hint of teasing or pretense, rubbed your clit with the pads of two fingers. 

“Holy. Sh–!” you cussed, only getting half of it out before it devolved into a strangled moan. 

Dylan nudged at your chin as your head lolled in pleasure, his lips skimming across your skin, breathing out praise as he continued to swirl his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you writhing against him. “Missed the way you sound…” he nipped your neck, “the way you feel…” he groped at your chest again with his free hand, “the way you taste…” he kissed you again, his tongue demanding entry into your mouth. 

His talented fingers had you approaching the edge, that warm feeling building up inside you, that pressure that made you feel like you were electrified. “Dyl… please…” you softly begged when he gave you a moment to finally breathe. 

His lips slipped from yours, your noses touching, both of you panting in the same air. Then you whined when you felt his fingers disappear from you. He stepped back into the stream of water and pulled you with him, kissing you everywhere his lips could reach as the hot spray of the shower rinsed you both clean of suds. 

You looped your arms around his neck and he gripped the backs of your thighs, hauling you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

His eyes were wide with the same wonder he somehow still held for you even though he’d had you so many times there was no way to keep count. It made you feel warm and wanted. Desired and beautiful.  

“Could stay in this shower for the rest of my fucking life…” he said as he pinned your back to the wall and bucked up against you, slickening himself in the folds of your body, driving the head of his cock into your already sensitive clit. 

Your eyes rolled back at the contact, your hips rocking forward to meet the roll of his. “We’ll… we’ll get all pruney….” you finally breathed out. 

He laughed against your throat before he kissed, nipped, and sucked what you knew would be an impressive little bruise into your skin. “So be it,” he said, and then he shifted his hips, met your gaze, and slid into you to the hilt. 

The stretch, the fullness, it was almost as shocking now as the first time you’d felt him buried inside you. It was perfection, blissfully indecent perfection. You moaned his name, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as he began to set a punishing pace, driving up into you hard, rutting his body against yours enough to stimulate you in just the right places, inside and out. 

“Shit!” you swore, letting your head fall back against the tiled wall. 

He fucked into you over and over as you felt yourself edging closer to the brink. You felt your thighs begin to shudder as his pace grew more erratic an unpredictable. 

“So fucking tight…” he groaned before he kissed the valley between your collarbones. 

The strangled need in his voice, the feel of his breath against your skin–all of it coupled with the delicious way the end of his length was pressing into that perfect spot inside you that made you feel like you were losing touch with reality–you were ready. “Fuck, Dyl–” 

He raised one hand to press on your chin enough to force your gaze back to his, the pad of his thumb dragging across your lower lip. 

You moaned and flicked at it with the tip of your tongue. “I’m so close… please!” you begged.

He drove his thumb between your lips and when you sucked it into your mouth, he slipped the hand on your thigh between your legs to rub his finger over your clit just when he drove a final thrust against your g-spot. 

You’d had your fair share of fantastic orgasms at this man’s hands, literally, but this one was up there standing proudly on the podium collecting its medal. It was a rush of pent-up need and desire that washed over you like a crashing tidal wave. Every single cell in your body felt like it was vibrating with pleasure. Your muscles clamped down on him as you felt him join you in his own release. The feel of him spilling into you, the sound of your name falling from his slack lips, making it all so much more intense. It was perfection. Pure and simple. Absolute. Unadulterated. Bliss.

Your chest heaved against his, both of you softly laughing between kisses before you felt him slip free of your body. His hands warmed up your arms before they cupped either side of your neck. 

“I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled at him, leaning in to run your nose along his throat until your lips were at his ear. “I love you too.” 

He sighed and his lips found yours, but he held back from the kiss long enough to speak. “Hell of a welcome home.” 

[that-basic-simp]

Careful, I Bite

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: Kind of citrusy. Possessive(?) Mizu WC: 1.2k+

Following Mizu's glares, they were all towards the men that were in this brothel. Again, why we were here, I don't know. It was Taigen's idea for some reason. And he was with Akemi. The woman he was supposed to marry was here in a brothel with other women. Maybe he did it to give Mizu some kind of nudge to find someone. Little did he know Mizu and I were together. We hid our relationship behind closed doors and away from Taigen. Away from others, too.

"Why are we even here?" I asked Taigen.

"See if Mizu can find someone that fits to his liking," Taigen said, his face a little flushed, clearly he was drunk.

I glanced over at Mizu, who was rolling her eyes, sipping at the tea in her hands. I shook my head and continued to drink my tea as well. There were other men who were eyeing me with some lustful looks. I moved closer to Mizu, who slowly reached underneath the table and placed her hand on my knee. She kept a close eye on the people here, making sure no one decided to pull a move on me.

"Hey, pretty lady," a guy walked over to me, trying to put his hand on my shoulder.

Mizu set her tea down and turned, grabbing the guy's wrist, pushing it away from me.

"Back off," Mizu said.

"Hey. I just want to show the pretty lady a nice time."

"I said," Mizu stood up, pushing the guy's shoulders. "Back off."

"What are you going to do about it, blind boy?" the guy back handed Mizu across the face, knocking the glasses from her face.

She turned her head to where the guy couldn't see her eye color. Reaching down, I grabbed the glasses from the floor, handing it to her. She nodded her head towards me, placing them back on before turning to face the man.

"I would advise you don't ever do that again," Mizu said.

"And I said, what are you going to do about it?"

Mizu reached down and grabbed the hilt of her sword, pushing the guard, popping it open, but not removing the blade.

"I don't think you'd want these poor ladies here to clean up blood," Mizu said.

"Do it," the man said. "You won't."

"Mizu," I stood up, placing my hand on her arm.

Mizu sighed and pushed the blade back into the sheath, stepping back.

"That's what I thought," the man said and walked off.

Mizu sighed and grabbed my wrist, walking off down a hall.

"How much for a private room?" she asked to the woman in charge.

"Normal price."

"Can you ensure that we don't get interrupted?"

"If you pay extra."

Mizu reached into her pocket and pulled out some coins, placing it in the woman's hand.

"All the way down the hall and to the left."

Mizu and I walked down the hall and she slid the door open. Stepping in, she closed the door, but she didn't face me.

"Mizu?" I asked. "A-Are you alright?"

"Taigen," she hissed.

"Are you upset that we're here when we're together?"

"Yes."

"Why don't we tell him that we're together?"

"I'd rather let him see it. Let everyone see that you belong to me."

She said it in a low and raspy voice, the voice she uses to disguise herself. A shiver went up my spine, causing the hair on the back of my neck and on my arms to stand up. Goosebumps appeared momentarily as she turned her head to look at me.

"U-Uhm, M-Mizu?"

Reaching up, she removed her glasses, a dark look appearing in them. They looked like the deepest depths of the sea with how dark they looked. It felt like I would get lost and drown in those waters. Drown in what Mizu was. Turning her entire body now, she grabbed my shoulders and pinned me to the ground. I was still processing what she said, but now this added another level to comprehend what was going on.

"M-Mizu?"

"Say it just like that, but maybe make it more of a whine. Or a whimper. I don't care," she said, tucking her head into the crook of my neck.

Her mouth pressed quick kisses against my soft skin. She reached up and moved my kimono aside a bit to reach other areas of my neck, such as my collarbone and shoulder. Before I knew it, those kisses turned into slight sucking. It was an odd sensation to feel as her mouth opened up, her tongue running up and down my skin before she closed her lips around my skin, sucking harder than before.

"Mizu," I breathed out, my eyes fluttering closed as my hips bucked up into hers.

"Not tonight, Y/N," she said. "Maybe when we're in a more private setting and it's just the two of us."

"Please, Mizu," I whispered.

"Yeah, ya like it when I kiss and suck your neck, baby?" she asked, sucking a bruise right in the middle of my neck. "You're mine. No one else's."

Hearing those words come from Mizu made something in my brain tingle, causing a fog to be cast down upon me. Like I was walking in the morning fog after a cold rain cooled down a hot summer day. My arms wrapped around her neck, my one hand digging into her hair, removing it from her ponytail. Her long, dark hair cascaded down upon us as she continued to kiss and suck at my neck. Her teeth finally grazed along my delicate skin. She nipped here and there before she reached the middle of my neck, a small sigh escaping from my lips.

"There we are," she said and harshly bit down.

I lurched forward, a moan escaping my lips as Mizu's teeth sunk into my skin, definitely leaving a mark. She pulled away, her tongue grazing across the area to soothe it. Going to the other side, she did the same and then down both sides of my shoulders. Finishing, she pulled away, some blood in the corner of her mouth. I looked up into those dark eyes of hers, finding a bit of a hungry, possessive look. I should have been scared, but it was Mizu. I trusted her and she knew I trusted her. And she trusted me.

"Gotta let these fuckers know who you belong to," she whispered huskily.

Another shiver went down my spine as she stood up, pulling her hair back into her ponytail. Grabbing her glasses, she placed them on her face and with her thumb, swiped away the blood that was at the corners of her mouth.

"You ok?" she asked.

I nodded my head, "Y-Yeah."

Extending out her hand, she helped me up and to my feet.

"Was I too rough, Y/N?"

"N-No, not at all."

"Ok. If I do get too rough, please tell me. I don't want to ever hurt you."

"I will, Mizu," I said, taking her hand.

We walked out of the room and headed back to where Taigen and Akemi were. Sitting down across from them, we went back to drinking our tea. Akemi took one look at my neck and then glanced over at Mizu, piecing the puzzle together. A sly smile appeared and when I found her gaze, she nodded, winking at me. I smiled, going back to drinking my tea.

"What's wrong?" Taigen asked.

"Nothing," we all said.

Taigen turned to face me, looking at the marks on my neck.

"How did you get those? Just now?"

"Yeah," I said, sipping my tea.

"By who?"

Mizu moved ever so closely to me, her arm wrapping around my waist. Looking in between the two of us, Taigen looked confused. Mizu, being Mizu, eyed him before tucking her face into the crook of my neck once more, biting down again.

"Oh shit," Taigen whispered.

[midnightarcheress]

you’re going out.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: pining simon denying till his grave 5 | gold rush masterlist.

Simon was sitting in your living room, hands in the pockets of his jacket and boot anxiously tapping on the wood floor as he waited for you to get ready. you hadn’t seen each other since the trip to France, still too scared to leave your house after that last note, so he wasn’t expecting your rushed text about going out tonight.

“i’m so sorry for calling you last minute,” you say, closing the loop of your earring as you walk out of your bedroom, trying your best not to be late, “a friend invited me for dinner, and i’m not exactly allowed to leave the house without you, so–”

“‘s alright” he mumbles, cutting your rambling and turning to see you, his heart nearly stopping at the view. you’re stunningly standing by the couch, one hand propped on the armrest for support as you lean down to strap your heels, struggling to maintain your balance. in a swift motion, Simon pulls you closer, gently lifting your calf so he could clasp it for you, not noticing your small gasp at his touch and how intimate the gesture must look to anyone else.

he doesn’t mind accompanying you or, in this case, guarding you. it’s nice to have you near, even if it’s just for a few hours and out of arm's reach, it's enough to save him from the dullness of his own life. but tonight is different, new, nerve-inducing. you’re going out with someone. he only ever had to be with you when you’re alone roaming the city or in event-related situations. what the fuck is the etiquette for chaperoning a dinner with a friend?

on the way to the restaurant, he learned that your company is an ex-co-star from one of your movies, who just happened to be your romantic interest. of course. he couldn't help the slight frown that appeared on his face and the small discomfort building in his stomach at the thought of watching you charming some guy for heaven knows how long. the text that gave him hope suddenly turned into a modern-time curse from the gods in a matter of seconds.

the soft piano playing in the background did nothing to steady his heartbeat when the hostess led you to the guy waiting by the window, twenty-thousand-pound watch on his wrist and a smug grin on his face, placing a hand dangerously close to your hip when you greeted him. Simon was placed near the bar, easy path to the exit and a clear view of you, but no liberty to drink away the misery of not being the one making you beam so widely.

it felt like torture, containing the venomous jealousy coursing through his veins, festering his flesh and rotting his brain with gruesome schemes of how he could end this in the blink of an eye. if he had a throwing knife, the guy’s blood would already be pooling under the table and you’d be long one, out of the shackles of your restricting life, far from sycophants and parasites, just safe from whatever threat that wants to maim you.

but he couldn't do that. saving you it’s not on his job description, no matter how badly he wishes to. so he had to endure observing you from afar, watch the soft locks of hair cascading on your face, see your lips take in your third glass of wine, and faintly hear the easy laughter escaping from you after one of the terrible jokes being spit on the table, probably as a consequence of the alcohol, while envy gnawed at the confines of his ribcage and begged to a way out. 

it made no sense for him to feel that way towards you. he was on duty. he was there for a horrible reason, so he felt sorry for you, but how much of it is pity and not true affection? why did the green demon eating his insides subdue when he saw how happy you were? why was his heart nearly skipping a beat whenever you glanced in his direction? certainly, it was just a way to reassure yourself that nothing would happen, but what if it was more? what if he was the reason you retracted your hand when the man in front of you reached for it?

the clock hands moved in a dangerously slow pace, minutes dragging like hours and slipping his mind into a parallel universe where he never left his house, but the sight of the check put on top of the beige cloth of your table was the solace lulling him back to peace. he could finally let out the breath he held since you stepped inside, lungs exhaling and expunging the poison from his system, and drive you back, without a single scratch on your skin.

the ride to your house was quiet, neither speaking more than needed. it wasn’t strange, the communication between the two of you happened mostly out of necessity, but the tension was palpable in the car. his grip on the steering wheel was tight, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go, his hand would rip out every strand of hair standing on his scalp. it was too much. he was relieved to be out of there, confused with the turmoil inside his chest, and angry at himself for getting lost in daydreams about you. 

“can you walk?” Simon asks, holding the passenger door open after stopping at your gate.

“of course i can walk–” your hand finds his arm before your face falls directly into the cobblestones that pave the path to your front door, “okay, maybe i’m a little tipsy.” Simon rolls his eyes after your blithe chuckle and snakes a hand around your waist, helping you head inside.

once in the warmth of your home and after making sure you weren’t too drunk to take care of yourself, he walked out, stomach churning as he tried to ignore the distress of the night and get ready to melt his troubles with a bourbon. but before he could press the code of the alarm and relax his stiff shoulders, your harrowing scream made his heart drop and his legs sprint back to you, fast as lightning strikes, images of the worst possible scenarios already flooding his vision.

his laboured breath meets you pressed against the wall, wide tear-rimmed eyes glaring at the mirror of your bedroom, and his blood pressure rises with concern. he turns to gaze at the mirror, assessing what made you so frightened, and his own eyes widen, ‘i don’t appreciate you entertaining other men, darling. don’t forget who you belong to.’

how i love inner struggle

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Fireworks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: New Year's party

A/N: Random musings

Warnings: fluff, slight angst/jealousy, drinking

It was the night of the annual New Year’s party at the compound, and you were taking a long-awaited break outside on the balcony away from all the noise. You loved celebrating with Wanda, whatever that involved, but sometimes you wished that you didn’t have to share her with everyone else.

You know that since you skipped the party last year, there was no ditching this time. You had been okay with that as the night started and you were surrounded by champagne, but now a few hours later you wish you could get away from it all. 

The closest you’d gotten was wandering out here a few minutes ago. No matter how large the building was, you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated when you were surrounded by hundreds of people. The music had started to become drowned out and you knew you couldn’t stomach any more champagne, so you’d excused yourself from whoever Wanda had been talking to and sought out some fresh air and relative silence.

You weren’t the only one out here because that was impossible given the occasion, but you would take it over the overbright party for now. 

You breathe in deeply and smile at the moonlit sky as you let your shoulders drop. You’re glad that you opted for pants tonight because it was too cold to be out here in anything else. You abandoned your glass inside somewhere, so your hands were stuffed in your pockets as you stood as close to the railing as physically possible. You were leaning on it in a way that you wouldn’t be able to stomach if it was light out and you could see how far down the ground was.

Luckily, you were too mesmerized by the appearance of the stars in the sky to think about what lay below. You glance at your watch before realizing you can’t see the time, but you don’t get to glance at your phone before you hear someone behind you. 

“These parties get so stuffy, don’t they?” 

You turn and smile at the sight of your brother-in-law standing behind you with two glasses of champagne in his hands. He’s not who you expected to find you, but you can’t say you’re disappointed as you shrug in response. He knows how you feel given that you’re out here at all. Still, you offer him an explanation, not able to completely erase your guilt at leaving. 

“The noise and the bright lights don’t mix well with alcohol.” 

Pietro smiles slightly at the fact that he’d brought you something to make your headache worse, and he sets the glasses down on a nearby bench. He moves to stand next to you with a sigh as he glances out onto the grounds. You wonder why he came out here given how much he likes a good party. He didn’t even seem buzzed which was honestly a shock given how late it was. 

“I’m sure having strange men hit on you doesn’t either.” 

You can’t help but chuckle in amusement at how that had gone. It had been about an hour into the party and some recruits were well and truly wasted already. This wasn’t surprising and for this reason, they had their own floor for the party where they were usually escorted to if they got too out of hand. 

You’d gotten to watch your wife banish one of them personally when he thought he’d try to get you to dance with him. He was convinced that you looked like some celebrity he watched on TV growing up, and not only was that false, but it made you feel old. The recruit couldn’t be much younger than you. You’d said no as politely as possible, and left as soon as you realized he wasn’t taking a hint. 

You’d only made it a couple of steps before he grabbed your wrist and tried to pull you onto the dance floor. He’d only ended up on his ass when Bucky knocked him to the ground. You’d turned around to see your friend and wife standing side by side with matching glares. 

Up until now, you’d stuck by Wanda because it was the safest place to be. That said, beside her was the busiest place to be given how much she had to mingle. You’d taken your chance to escape, and you were going to wait as close to midnight as possible before going back to look for you wife. 

“If that’s the most excitement I see tonight, I’ll consider myself lucky.” 

Pietro laughs before he nudges you playfully and shoots you a look that makes you roll your eyes. 

“Are you sure about that? Not up for any more excitement tonight?” 

You suppose you’ll never be able to live what happened the year before last down. You and Wanda had left the party, this exact party early when you’d feigned a headache. Wanda had been concerned and taken you upstairs leaving everyone else to their celebration.

Pietro, being the considerate brother-in-law that he was, had come to check up on his sisters a bit later only to find them relaxing in their living room.

At least that’s what he thought he’d walked in on, then you’d jumped up from the ground and Wanda had spun around with an angry curse. It only took seeing you both half-clothed and scrambling for cover to clue him in. 

“Why, looking to interrupt us again?” 

Pietro shakes his head before turning around at the sound of a door opening. He smiles at the sight of his sister looking flustered and a little tired. It was nearing midnight, so he figured that neither of you would be sticking around for long. He just smiles before patting you on the shoulder with a sigh.

“Happy new year, kid.” 

You roll your eyes before grumbling a response and waving him away even though he’s already halfway to the doors. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Wanda shoots her brother a look before accepting a hug. He says something you can’t hear, but when Wanda smiles and kisses him on the cheek, you realize that it must have been something sweet. That or your wife is a little drunker than you thought. 

“Y/n. there you are.”

You smile in greeting before leaning in for a kiss. You’re relieved to see her because usually her arrival means that she’s finished making small talk and she’s ready to leave. You grab her hand before taking a moment to admire her outfit again. It looks uncomfortable, in fact you know it is given how many times Wanda complained about it, but the dress is beautiful. The blue contrasts wonderfully with her hair, and you’d caught yourself staring multiple times tonight. 

“Ready to call it a night?” 

Wanda pulls her gaze away from the three open buttons of your shirt. She contemplated fixing this earlier, especially after one of her employees drunkenly hit on you. However, she’d gotten distracted, and now she figures that if you’re going to be walking out of here with her, it won’t matter soon enough. 

“All set, detka. Thank you for your patience.” 

You smile before shaking your head because honestly it wasn’t so bad. You got to eat good food, catch up with some people, and spend time with your wife. 

You lead Wanda back through the doors to the still bustling, but slowing party. The first thing you notice is how warm it is, and you have to resist the urge to walk a little faster so you can be in your own rooms sooner. You’re imagining the relief you’ll feel when you change out of these clothes when someone calls out for your wife. 

Wanda stiffens at the familiar voice. She hadn’t heard it directed toward her in years, but she’d heard it around the compound enough for it to be impossible to forget about her presence entirely. 

Wanda watches as you turn in the direction of the drunk blonde with a curious look. You don’t say anything, and watch with mounting frustration as the woman, probably around your age, reaches out for your wife. 

“Wanda! -t’s good to…good to see -ou.” 

Wanda tries not to appear as panicked as she feels because she knows that this is going to get ugly. If not right now, it might later when you figure out who this woman is. Wanda channels her inner-boss and tries not to flinch when the blonde grabs her hand. She carefully pulls it away before patting her on the shoulder in an effort to placate her. 

“Amy, do you have someone to help you get home?” 

Wanda’s innocent question and obvious recognition of the blonde makes you frown, but you don’t get to consider asking for an introduction. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but release Wanda’s hand in shock. You also can’t help but notice how Wanda’s face flushes as she practically glares at Amy. 

“Nope, you off-er, offri-.” 

“Offering? No, but I can have someone esc--.” 

Wanda’s cut off and you start in surprise when Amy practically throws herself at your wife. She doesn’t do much more than fall against her before Wanda has her at arm’s length and she’s shooting Steve who luckily is never far, a look. He comes up and takes Amy by the shoulder and steers her off somewhere you don’t even see. You’re too busy trying to figure out what happened, but one glance at your wife tells you that she has some explaining to do. 

“Um...Who the hell was that?” 

Wanda cringes but she shakes her head before reaching out for you again to lead you to the elevators. She’d rather not talk about this right now, and definitely not here. You don’t like her plan however and you try to argue, but Wanda just shakes her head before shooting you a pleading look that leaves you more anxious than reassured. 

“Let’s talk upstairs. Please?”

You acquiesce with a nod before following Wanda to the elevators. You hear her press the button a little harder than necessary when you turn around to look for the blonde. As expected, she’s gone, and you wonder if Steve got any useful information from her. 

The sound of the elevator arriving makes you turn around and wait for Wanda to go first before you step inside and press the button for your floor with a sigh. You’re exhausted and you really just wanted to go home and relax with your wife, but now you’re not sure what’s going to happen. You move to the back of the car and lean against it with a frown. You look at your reflection in the door before turning to Wanda’s to see that she’s already watching you. 

“So are you going to tell me who that woman was?” 

Wanda sighs and when she looks away from you, your frown deepens as you cross your arms. You aren’t sure you want to know anymore. 

Wanda runs a hand through her hair before taking a deep breath. She turns toward you and waits until you meet her gaze. 

“We slept together a couple of times, maybe 5 years ago.”

The first thing you feel is jealousy because of course you would. You have to resist the urge to scowl at the thought of some blonde sleeping with your wife…way before she was your wife. You simply nod before realizing that you certainly could be upset, but does it really matter who Wanda slept with when you weren’t together? Specifically, did you care about her sleeping with some woman before even meeting you? 

You almost laugh at the thought of your limited history with women, and how yours is definitely more problematic than hers. At least in your opinion. The stress of admitting that you’d met and slept with Natasha before meeting Wanda had been overwhelming.

You realize that you can’t really be upset, at least not at Wanda, but you still feel a little miffed by tonight’s interruption. Mostly because you wanted to enjoy your time to celebrate with Wanda, and you know yourself too well to think you’ll be able to brush this off. 

Wanda turns when you don’t respond, and she frowns when she sees you deep in thought. She’s about to speak up and ask what you’re thinking, but you share it with her fairly quickly. 

“Did you two date?” 

You figure you know the answer given how Wanda introduced her, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. You watch as your wife shakes her head before stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway. She quickly opens the door and you both walk inside without a word. 

“So you were friends with benefits?” 

You notice Wanda cringes when you say this but she doesn’t argue immediately as she walks over to the couch and sits down. She turns to you and you simply sigh before moving to sit beside her. 

“Not really. At least we weren’t really friends.” 

You try not to think too hard about this and you eventually hum in response, but say nothing else. Your brain, as cruel as it is, thinks back to the blonde you saw a few minutes ago. You can’t help how your expression darkens as your mood follows suit. 

“Okay.” 

The way you say this single word tells Wanda that it is in fact not okay, but she doesn’t have time to respond before you walk into the kitchen to the fridge. Wanda’s still searching for an explanation when you grab a bottle of expensive champagne and reach into a nearby cupboard for two glasses. Wanda just watches as you set them on the counter in front of her before you sigh in defeat. 

“I’m not judging you for having a past. I just don’t like to think about it. I’m selfish and want you all to myself.”

Wanda opens her mouth to tell you that you have her, but you cut her off when the cork flies off the bottle and hits a wall across the room. You pour two glasses and take another deep breath before holding one out to your wife with a small smile. 

“You are all mine, right?” 

Wanda’s nodding as you tip your glass back and down the contents quickly. She only takes a sip of hers before she sets it down and leans in close to you for a kiss that you quickly deepen. You blindly set your glass down as you move so you can wrap your arms around your wife’s waist. She smiles into the kiss before she pulls you out of the kitchen and toward the living room. She considers pushing you onto the couch, but instead she leads you to the wall of windows where the sky is already being lit up in celebration. 

Wanda turns to meet your gaze and seeing the fireworks dancing across your skin makes her lean in to kiss you again. She’s smiling widely by the time she breaks away, and your entire face lights up at what she says next. 

“I will always be yours, detka.” 

You squeeze her hand before you decide that this is the only thing that matters right now. Standing beside your wife and ringing in another year together. 

“Happy New Year, Wands.” 

Masterlist

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Tom Riddle x Reader - Canon Complaint ending.

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding, self-harm, vomiting, (y/n) is going THROUGH it. horror elements. Tom Riddle.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 6- -Part 7- -"Good" ending- -Bad ending-

=

(y/n) huffed in frustration as she looked through the restricted section for the third night in a row, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure Filch or Madam Pince wouldn’t catch her.

Tom had told her to look for a few particular books that were filled with information about possession and how to expel it, but it seemed there was nothing in Hogwarts about that sort’ve thing oddly enough.

Explaining such a thing to Tom seemed to puzzle him, as in his years of school, he was quite certain the library had those sorts of books.

‘might’ve been because of the war and demons or possessive spirits were more rampant back then. Now that the world is in a peaceful era, there’s no need for those type of books.’

Tom had reasoned and (y/n) had to concede, because back then-during World War two and the uprising of Grindelwald, there had been a lot more to the defensive classes at Hogwarts, like full dueling classes and multi hour-long sessions of DADA.

How did she know that? Simple research in ‘Hogwarts a history’. That and she’d asked Tom.

She huffed in frustration again as she once again didn’t find the books she was looking for, leaving the library and sneaking back to her dorm room, carefully stepping back into her room-making sure not to wake up her roommates, and toeing off her shoes, climbing into her bed. She closed the curtains and grabbed Tom’s diary from her jumper pocket, grabbing her pen and opening the diary.

“I still couldn’t find anything :c”

‘Damn, not even the locked books?’

“no, nothing about ghosts other than how they’re created, but that stuff was in the normal part of the library.”

(y/n) sighed in frustration, rubbing her face as her inked words faded and Tom’s elegant scrawl replaced it.

‘I have an idea. I don’t know if it’ll work, but in my era-those types of books were available in the library, perhaps they’ll be available here.’

(y/n) bit her thumbnail, knowing what he was suggesting. Her going back into his subspace, all for the slim chance of possibly getting her hands on information to expel a possession. It was risky, because her going into his space meant either her using up a lot of her magic and leaving her vulnerable, or him using his limited supply of magic and being unable to communicate with her for a few days.

But it was a risk she would have to take.

“okay. Lets try.”

In a flash of familiar light and a tug at her wrists, (y/n) was within Tom’s diary once again. She felt his arms wrap around her as she landed and after a split moment of looking into his sepia-toned eyes, he took her hand and led her to the library, easily unlocking the restricted section with a wave of his hand.

She quickly pushed through the gates and looked through the books from Tom’s era. There were thankfully all titled, which meant the core Tom, the one who had enchanted his personality onto the diary, had remembered these books before casting the spell.

She grabbed one of the books titled ‘possessions and reanimations’ and the lock melted away like ink, and she glanced over her shoulder Tom-who was watching her like a hawk, his eyes intense. She swallowed down the feeling of nervousness and opened the book.

It was completely fucking. Blank.

She let out a low scream/shriek of frustration and shoved the book back into the shelf, looking through the other books as well. All empty.

“There's nothing here!” (y/n) cried, sinking to the floor, burying her face in her knees. Tom frowned, looking up at the shelves.

“Odd, I suppose I don’t remember these books as I thought I did, I apologize (y/n), I’ve wasted your time.” Tom said very softly, kneeling beside her and resting his hand on her head. (y/n) let out a long shuddering sigh, letting her legs slide out in front of her, her nose burning as tears built in her eyes.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered to herself, she had no one to talk about this to in the real world, and Tom could only do so much. Tom hummed softly and sat next to her, his foot knocking against hers gently.

“I wish I could do more,” he said softly and (y/n) let out another long shuddering sigh, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

What was she going to do?

Moments later, Tom booted her from the diary-she understood why-her being there drained a lot of magic from him-or well her it seemed today, as her nose was bleeding again.

She sighed, wiping her nose and closing Tom’s diary, putting it under her pillow. She felt jittery, too nervous to go to sleep-worried that the heir might try to possess her again tonight while she slept.

Still, she lay down, hands going under her pillow, connecting with the diary and she clutched it, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. The diary was warm under her hands, it felt alive-reminding her that Tom was there-practically real, as real as a personality enchantment could get.

She fell asleep, thankfully waking up in her bed. She sighed, rubbing her face and tired eyes, grabbing Tom’s diary from under her pillow and slipping it into her bag as she got ready for the day.

At breakfast she was distracted, trying to figure out what she was going to do, her friends tried to ask what was wrong, noticing how out of it she was, but she told them she was just stressed from exams coming up and the whole chamber of secrets situation.

They understood and let her be after that, but each time she passed one of them on the way to class, they gave her a little smile or hug, which she greatly appreciated.

By the time classes were done, (y/n) was exhausted, like, super exhausted, she could barely keep her eyes open, and her eyes were almost hurting with how tired she was, which was unusual because she’d slept fine the night before.

She climbed into her bed, not even taking her shoes off, and passed out.

-

‘Get up.’

A voice in her head echoed, and without her will, she sat up, her mind still a haze as if in sleep-unaware of what she was doing. She slowly slipped off her bed, grabbing Tom’s diary from her bag, and walking out of her room.

In a daze, she left the common room, not responding to anyone that greeted her as she walked past. Her vision was dim, a hazy unconscious glaze in her eyes as she walked down the corridors. She went up several flights of stairs, passing by a teacher or two on her way, paying them no mind-and they didn’t seem to pay her any mind either.

She went to the 2nd floor corridor, just in front of the haunted girl's bathrooms.

She drew up her sleeve, raking her nails down her arm until she bled, and then coated her fingers in her blood, extending her arm to the wall and writing down the words that were muttered in her head.

She stepped away as the last letter was written, her arms hanging limply at her side, Tom’s diary clutched in her other hand. She turned her heel and walked into the bathroom, stopping in front of the sink and looking at the one just in front of her.

“Open.” She said in parseltongue, and the sink transformed, revealing a large hole beneath the sinks that led deep beneath Hogwarts.

She jumped without a moment of hesitation, the sinks closing back together and sealing the tunnel once again. The wind blew through her hair and at her face as she descended through the tunnel, hitting the slimy floor as she flew out the other side. She got up, making sure Tom’s diary was still in her hands, and continued through the tunnels, not even taking out her wand for light.

She went through several tunnels, crawled through a cave, and finally turned into a hallway with a dead end, two snakes curled up around each other with emeralds for eyes, which glinted at her eerily.

“Open.” She said in parseltongue again and the snakes' eyes glowed and they moved, a split in the wall appearing and opening the doors inward. She entered the chamber of secrets, her shoes splashing on the flooded flooring as she made her way towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

She took a breath, and then slumped to the floor, Tom’s diary resting on her chest as her vision went completely black again, a wet hot feeling coming from her nose as footsteps echoed around her.

-

She felt a sudden rush of energy as warmth overcame the coldness that had overtaken her and she gasped, her eyes snapping open just as a bright light engulfed the chamber, a strange visage of Tom disappearing at the same time-exploding into bright golden light.

She sat up, staring at the space where she just saw Tom, panting heavily as she turned, looking behind her to see…Harry Potter? Who looked pale and weak, the diary in front of him…bleeding ink.

“What…the fuck?” (y/n) murmured to herself, gently grabbing the diary, Harry frowning a bit as he did so.

“He was manipulating you,” Harry began to explain, sounding weaker and weaker by the second. “He was slowly possessing you, draining your life to gain his back…” (y/n)’s heart dropped at the explanation, her eyes glued to the diary that had a hole stabbed through it, a fang in Harry’s hand with blood and ink all over it.

“But…he,” (y/n) muttered, tears filling her eyes as the diary slipped from her hands and into the water below. “He…” she didn’t know what to say, her eyes drifting back up to Harry, gasping as she saw how beaten he really looked. “Shit-kid-what the fuck happened to you?” she asked, scooting closer on her knees, looking at his arm, her eyes widening at the large bite wound. “What did that?!”

Harry looked to the side and (y/n) followed his gaze, gasping as she saw a giant serpent, a basilisk, lying dead nearby. “You killed that thing?” she asked, and Harry nodded, pointing weakly at the sword next to him. “…holy shit kid,” she muttered, her brows pinched.

Harry was looking weaker by the second and she remembered basilisk venom was very very deadly; Harry would be dead at any second. “Shit we gotta get you outta here-fuck how do we get out of here?!” (y/n) panicked for a moment and then a screech came from above, Dumbledore’s familiar, Fawkes, came soaring from above and landed next to Harry, tears dropping from his eyes and onto Harry’s wound.

Harry smiled as he felt the venom in his veins disappear, his energy returning. “Phoenix tears have healing properties,” Harry muttered, smiling at (y/n), who gave a weak unsure smile in return.

They got to their feet, (y/n) clutching the diary as Harry collected the sorting hat (she wasn’t going to question anything right now) and the sword that had killed the basilisk.

They exited the chamber of secrets, finding Ron and the dumbass Lockhart (it lifted her spirits a bit to know he was a fraud and a coward and had lost all his memories, he kinda deserved it). After that Fawkes found a way out through the caves and air-lifted them all out, Audrey hanging onto Lockhart's ankle while Harry and Ron held onto her hand.

(y/n) clutched the diary in her hand as they made their way to Professor McGonagall’s office, and Harry pushed open the door. (y/n) felt her heart stutter seeing her mom, dad, and brothers, dropping Tom’s diary to the floor as her parents gasped out her name and she was engulfed in a hug.

She leaned heavily into her dad, sobbing terribly as he held her tight.

It was over.

Tom had tricked her.

He had lied to her the whole time.

Stupid fucking personality enchantment.

-

She was sitting in front of Headmaster Dumbledore, her arms crossed as she slumped in the chair in front of his desk, his eyes on her, kind and understanding.

“I do not blame you, Ms. (y/n), Mr. Riddle has always been charming, even when he was younger. You are not at fault for falling for those charms, especially when he so dutifully leaned into being your friend and pretending to be one.” Dumbledore said kindly and (y/n) let out a shuddering sigh, wiping away her tears.

She felt physically better than she’d had in months, months; ever since the diary had been destroyed, which was laid in front of her on Dumbledore’s desk, and now she knew why she hadn’t been feeling well. That didn’t mean she felt emotionally or mentally well.

Tom had been behind it all, Tom…Voldemort; had tricked her, gained her trust, and used it against her to slowly drain her life force from her to be able to resurrect himself as his 16-year-old self.

“When I look back on everything,” she spoke quietly, voice cracking and wavering as she remembered every conversation with Tom, all the gaps in her memory, all the times she’d woken up somewhere not in her bed, all the nightmares-how Tom seemed to know far more than she ever told him.

“I just feel so…stupid, it was all so obvious,” (y/n) mumbled, a sob breaking her sentence as she closed her eyes. “But he felt so…real, so genuine… but he was just lying to me all along.” (y/n) said weakly, burying her face in her hands.

“Tom Riddle was a very smart, charming boy who knew how to get what he wanted, regardless of what he had to do to get it. He even tricked me, and I could never prove when he was responsible for certain things that he did around the school-I believed he had been the one to open the chamber of secrets, as he had shared with me he could speak to snakes when I first met him, and I knew only those descended from the Slytherin line could do that, and yet I knew he had fooled everyone else to believe he was a charming, good boy, that could do no wrong. He did the same thing to you, and I refuse to let you believe you were tricked because you’re stupid. No, you were tricked because he’s too smart, and used your feelings for his own gain.” Dumbledore said softly, standing from his desk and walking around it, resting a hand on (y/n)’s head.

(y/n) sniffled and lifted her head, staring at Dumbledore who offered a kind understanding smile. “You are not at fault for what he did, you are a victim.” Dumbledore said softly and (y/n) nodded, understanding that, but it didn’t mean she still wasn’t blaming herself for getting caught up in Tom Riddles, young Voldemort’s, lies.

“I think Im going to go take a proper nap, Professor Dumbledore.” (y/n) said softly and Dumbledore nodded, allowing her to leave. She glanced back at Tom’s diary as she opened the door, and then closed it behind her, leaving the diary behind as well.

-CC ending.-

welp-here it is! hope you guys like this ending as well as the 'good' ending, took me oddly a long time to write, hopefully i can at least write the bad ending out before i leave for vacation, but in the meantime, you guys have this to read~!

taglist!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq

@theicypiscean @discofairysworld @simpforih44

[novasintheroom]

A run to court - Prince!Vash x Reader

Clat-clat-clat-clat! Your shoes echo in the halls. Servants bow hastily as you pass, your husband close on your heels.

“Slow down!” Vash calls, a slight laugh in his voice. You shake your head, curls flopping on your shoulders from your updo today.

“We get ten minutes notice that we’re to head court proceedings today and you want me to slow down?” Your calves are already on fire from running in heels, but you don’t stop. “We can’t be late! Imagine how that will look to the court and the people!”

Vash lets out another laugh, nodding at a pair of maids who bow as he passes. Their eyes have their own twinkle of mirth, watching their prince chase down his diligent wife. “We’ll be fine; they know we’re busy with other matters.”

You don’t deign to answer. You turn a corner and stop, breathing a sigh of relief. The doors to the court room loom closed at the far end. Two guards hastily stand from their slouched positions at the sight of you. A look at your pocket watch tells you that you still have three minutes to spare. “Good,” you mutter, “good, good.”

Before you can march to the doors, however, a hand clasps your wrist gently. You turn to Vash, impatient. “What is it? We’re going to be late!”

His smile is calm. “Just wait,” he says, and reaches out to right the collar of your dress. “Your running made some of your hair fall out.”

With a short sigh, you allow him to go behind you, grabbing pieces of hair that had fallen out and pinning them back into place. “You’re very fast in those shoes,” he comments, twisting a lock of hair and pinning it to the top of your updo.

“Comes with practice,” you say, brushing your hand down your skirts and righting the jewelry on your wrists and fingers. You’d been hasty in putting them on, having gone the first half of the morning without them – not expecting to hold court. “My sisters and I would have races to see who could go the fastest in our mother’s shoes.” Then, your brows lift, feeling a tug on your head as he puts another hair back in place. “I’m surprised I outpaced you, though. Your long legs always have me trying to catch up.”

Vash comes back around and starts tucking strands of hair behind your ears. His eyes are twin skies, flitting about like birds as he works. You feel odd and look away from his gentle gaze. “I was letting you get ahead of me. The view from behind was spectacular.” He gives a wink.

You feel the blood coming to your cheeks. “Ha,” you say, reaching out to snag his coat and straighten the pins on it, “such a man.”

Vash continues his ministrations. He reaches out, tugging at the chain around your neck to get it untwisted. Goosebumps rise gently at your collarbone, his skin warm and soft. You reach out as well, straightening the crown at his brow – the one you barely managed to snag from his room on the way here. It always likes to fall to the right for some reason. Like he has a dented head. Smiling at the thought, you brush at his shoulders, picking a blonde hair off and letting it flutter to the floor. “You shed like a dog,” you comment, “I’m surprised you’re not bald with how much you lose.”

Vash laughs, reaching up and pushing a few pearled pins back into your hair. “You’re not any better. I think I could make two new wigs out of all the hair you lose just in a day.”

“Hm.”

A few seconds later, Vash pulls back. He looks satisfied. “There,” he triumphs, and, with a shy tone, says, “My pretty wife.” Your hand is brought to his lips, and he places a kiss at your knuckles.

He always does this. And, always, you heart pitter-patters at the obvious affection. Your good breeding kicks in, and you smile demurely, looking down. “Thank you.”

The hall is still long, and the guards at the doors stand at attention, ready to let you two in.

“One more look,” you spin slowly, letting your husband scan you. “Anything else out of place?”

Vash takes his time, eyes roving your figure, the apple of your cheek, the still-loose curls at the base of your neck. Beautiful. “No,” he says, then does his own spin. “How do I look?”

 You’re careful where you place your gaze, avoiding looking at his rear for too long. Vash smirks when he turns around, like he somehow knows what you were looking at. Reaching out one last time to tug at the rebellious earring he insists on wearing, you say, “Very handsome.” Then, taking his arm with yours, you both walk to the doors, ready to face what the court has for you today.

dividers

[modernimpressionism]

a higher power compelled me to write this

Swann Arlaud x Reader Fluff

(First meetings, art museums, slight awkwardness)

1285 Words

• ───── ୨୧ ───── •

Like the work of art she was, he first saw her at a museum.

More specifically, at the Musée d'Orsay. Standing in front of Olympia. He had wandered in on a walk home from a meeting with his manager, feeling a little stressed and pretty annoyed. He assumed a walk around an air-conditioned maze would calm his mind a bit, and this one was just the closest when he googled 'museum'. He recalls visiting it as a boy because being a child in Paris meant field trips to insane historical monuments and world-famous museums.

She stared at the painting as if trying to memorize every brush stroke, occasionally adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder or tucking her hair behind her ear, but not moving onto another piece. The relaxed nude figure seemed to entrance her like the woman was communicating something secret and sensual and womanly through 150 years of dried pigment.

This gave him plenty of time to memorize her as well, to notice the hair falling gently on her back. Her fingers, the nails neatly painted but the skin around them picked and chewed to bits. She wore a watch on her left wrist, a real watch that ticked silently with the seconds, he thought higher of her because of this but couldn't place why. Her clothes looked nice, but not excessive. He imagined her being picky with what she wore, and not caring about brands or fashion houses, which felt rare in Paris. The tote bag on her shoulder was obviously full, and he yearned to hold it for her, to take the weight off if only for a moment. She obviously carried it every day and thought little of the weight anymore, but he was willing to take it.

He paused his study for a moment to look around the gallery. He noticed the similarity between all of the paintings, and with how long she was staring at the one, he assumed she must be a fan.

Shit

He leaned over to check the name of the artist on a few of the paintings, Manet, Manet, Manet, ok. He pulls his phone out and quickly searches for him. If he's going to talk to this woman, he should at least pretend to have a reason to.

He was starting to regret not paying attention during those field trips.

He slipped his phone back into his back pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed like he was eternally trying to fix it, and if there was ever a time for it to behave, it was right now.

He took one confident step before she started moving and he lost all of his nerve. He snapped his head around before finding a random painting to pretend to stare at, hoping she didn't notice his extended and possibly creepy staring. He shoved his hands in his front pockets to try to look calmer than he was.

He heard the slight tap of her shoes against the stone floor but didn't dare to look where she was going. This is disastrous, he thought, deciding to leave as soon as she stopped moving. He was counting down the seconds when he felt a slight shade move on his left side and heard her movements more closely.

She stood right next to them, looking at the same painting.

His plan to abandon ship quickly dissipated, knowing this was the only opportunity he had to talk to her. If he ignored her now and followed her around the museum to talk to her later, he would look mental.

He scanned the painting in a panic, trying to understand 150 years of art history before opening his mouth. To him, it just looked like a couple of people standing on a balcony but he felt like it meant much more to her. He thought that if he waited any more, he would lose his nerve, so he opened his mouth and...

"J'aime le chien"

"Oh, I. I'm sorry but I'm still learning French, I'm not sure-"

"You're American!"

Shit!

In his anxiety-ridden brain, he forgot to shut his mouth and his words bypassed any filter he possessed. It's over, this was a total failure, he thought as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

But instead he heard her giggle gently, before responding,

"I am! All of my life actually"

Oh god, and she's funny...

He smiled back at her with his signature goofy lopsided smile, too engrossed by her face, her mouth, her eyes to actually respond to anything.

"I like the dog too", she replies after a few silent seconds.

They both stared at the small animal painted in the bottom left corner, tucked into the petticoat of a figure. His eyes weren't visible beneath his fur, permanently hidden from the world. Looking at the animal and hearing her approval gave him the confidence to keep their conversation going a bit longer.

"So is he your favorite?"

"He's one of my favorites, i just love the choice of subjects, how average they were."

He's entranced by her voice. By the way her lips move to make the words, by the way her eyes light up as she speaks about art. He realizes that he must look silly, staring at her speak with a dumb smile, but he can't bring himself to care.

"Have you ever seen where he painted? In Giverny?"

She tilts her head slightly at that question, slightly confused.

Shit.

"Do you mean Monet? With the lilies? He painted in Giverny. This is Manet."

SHIT!

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, feeling like a deer in headlights, he can't possibly save this now.

So he just starts laughing. A genuine belly laugh, full of joy at his own stupidity. And then she starts laughing just as hard.

"Did you just google him a minute ago?", she asks, in between giggles.

"I did, it must have been uh... vérification orthographique.. spellcheck"

They look at each other earnestly, both admiring the other.

"I'm Y/N", she says, reaching out her hand.

He grabs it and is astounded by how comfortable he feels in hers

"Swann"

*One Year Later*

"Love I told you, I didn't want anything for our anniversary, just to do things together"

"Well this is a together present, sort of, it's for uh.. l'appartement"

He pulls a large, flat, wrapped present from the back of his closet, lifting it and placing it in front of Y/N, who's sat on their bed. He sits down next to her, leaning one hand on the bed behind her, subconsciously wanting to be close to her.

Her hands reach for the paper and start tearing, she makes a mental note of his gift-wrapping skills, assigning him that job in the future. Her were always horribly crumpled, but he was neat and untarnished, and she almost felt bad destroying it.

She quickly uncovered a gold frame with a glass pane, something familiar peeking out from inside.

"It's the Manet painting, The Balcony. A print of it, I mean. I thought it would be nice to hang out here since it's ours." he says, almost shyly... No matter how confident he was, he always felt the risk of gift-giving.

"Swann, I love it, It's perfect"

She places the framed print on the bed behind her, safely, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him with as much love as she could muster. It was such a quick transition that he was almost surprised, but he soon caught up and reached his arm around her and grabbed her waist, pulling her tighter. After a while, he placed a hand on her cheek to pull her away and leaned in to kiss her lips gently and with love.

"Joyeux anniversaire chérie, I would get you the real painting if I could.

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson × AHS Asylum) Part I

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. When he can't convince people that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is committed to a mental hospital. But the only way out is to prove to the psychiatrist that he is not crazy. If he cannot convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. And he must hurry to do so because Vecna has come to finish the job he left unfinished. As Eddie fights for his life, what is the most his psychiatrist can do to save him when she learns he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because Eddie is innocent, but because the two of them have developed feelings for each other over time.

Warnings: It's inspired by the horror series American Horror Story, so it has a lot of horror elements. Mention of blood, hospital, electric chair, execution, injury, sex, nudity, (+18 please, MDNI) extremely depressive thoughts, depression, drugs, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and attempts, violence, smut, claustrophobic, dark moods. (please tell me if I have forgotten anything.) please DO NOT READ if at least one of these is a trigger for you.

1989, Eddie Munson's Perspective.

The police officer punched me once more in the face. I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth. My eyes were so swollen that I could only squint. The police officer took a handkerchief out of his pocket and started walking around the room. He wiped the blood off his hands in disgust. But it was my blood, not his.

"Do you hear that sound, Munson?" he said through clenched teeth. Then he continued, "That's the voice of the Hawkins people who would destroy you in two minutes if I gave you to them. They want justice. We will give them the justice they want.''

I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth again. "I didn't do anything," I said, barely breathing. He walked quickly towards me and kicked the chair I was sitting on. I groaned in pain as I hit the floor, the sound of the iron chair hitting the floor echoed around the room, like a banshee screaming. My hands and feet were handcuffed. That's why I couldn't move, the police officer was already kicking me from where I was lying. I heard the door creak open and a familiar voice came running towards us.

Hopper: "Stop it! For God's sake stop! What are you gonna do?! Are you going to kill him?! He's just a child!''

The police officer who stopped kicking me spat on me. He was pointing at me. "He's not a child. He's the devil himself.''

Hopper grabbed the police officer by the collar and threw him out. Then he helped me up off the floor. When he uncuffed me, I looked at my wrists, bruised. I could no longer figure out where it hurt the most.

I could hear chants and shouts from outside, "Die, Munson! You murderer! Give us the murderer! His punishment should be execution!"

Hopper: We're getting you out of here. In an hour.

I didn't look up. "Who reported me? Who told them where I was? God, how can they find me after all these years?''

Hopper shook his head in a negative way. "I don't know. This is beyond Hawkins now. The FBI is on the case. You're all over the national news. Newspaper stories are being printed about you from all over the world. There's a caravan of reporters and news stations outside the front door. You're going on trial for killing four people and putting one in a coma.''

I said loudly, "Four?! Jesus Christ! Vecna only killed three people and put Max in a coma. Who's the fourth?''

Hopper didn't seem to know what to do. He was as bewildered as I was. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Jason. They say it was you who killed him.''

I punched the table. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? All the deaths in this town are blamed on me?''

Hopper: They're looking for someone to pin it on so they can get rid of the backlog of cases they can't explain. There's no one to defend you right now. The lawyers are dropping the case. And that suits these filthy pigs.

I asked the question that had been on my mind all along, afraid of his response. "So what's going to happen to me now?

Hopper looked at the clock on his wrist and headed for the door. When he opened it, I was relieved to see it was Dustin, Steve, and Robin. For a second I thought it was that asshole again. My bones ached when Dustin ran up and hugged me. I probably had more than one fracture.

Dustin: Dude… They're sending you away. They're sending you to Bloomfield.

Eddie: Bloomfield? What, I'm going to Michigan? Do you guys know how far that is?!

Steve sat down at the table in front of me.

Steve: If you stay here, they'll kill you. Prosecutor Robert wants to execute you on this case and become a national hero. That's why he won't let the crowd kill you. You're going to a safe place.

I laughed sarcastically. "When I get to the prison there, they're going to put me in the electric chair and make me Eddie double cheese toast anyway.''

Robin smiled nervously, biting her lips. I knew that smile.

Robin: Yeah, about that… You're not going to prison.

I raised one eyebrow and looked at her to continue, but it was Steve who spoke.

Steve: You're going to a mental hospital, man. You're going to Chassell mental hospital.

I grabbed my face with both hands, i was laughing hysterically.

Hopper: We somehow convinced them that you committed these murders, but that you were mentally unstable. We told them that you kept saying it was some creature you made up in your head.

Eddie: Well, that's already true!

Hopper: Of course it's true, you shithead, but they don't know that, and when they do, that's what they'll tell you! We're saving your life! If they are not convinced you are crazy, they will execute you.

Again I asked a question I was afraid of the response, "What if they are convinced I'm crazy? Then what happens next?''

Everyone looked at each other.

Hopper: This time there will be a discussion about you staying there for life. They will appoint a highly skilled and experienced doctor to determine that. Don't make a mistake. Prove to the court that you are crazy. After the court receives the psychiatrist's report and orders you to stay in the hospital for life, we will come to get you. We will also find the asshole who reported you.

There was silence for a while.

Eddie: What about Vecna?

Robin: Nothing's happened in three years. I don't think it will happen after this time, but if it does, we'll be prepared.

Steve took something out of his pocket. It was a walkman. I took the tape out and looked at it and I saw the name Eddie Mix on it. Steve explained it before I asked.

Steve: I put your favorite metal songs on it, you know you might need it. You should guard this better than your life and keep it safe. Your life may depend on it. So if he comes hunting you…

Silence again. When I stood up, everyone straightened up.

Eddie: Okay, one last question. How do I pretend to be crazy when I'm not?

Hopper shrugged. I felt like I had just asked the easiest question in the world and I didn't even know it.

Hopper: Just tell them the truth. No need to lie.

I nodded my head in agreement. I handed my hands to Hopper to cuff them. That's what the people wanted. They wanted to see the murderer caught.

The camera flashes...

Chains wrapped around my feet...

The people booing and throwing things...

I got into the police car amid curses I didn't know which one to listen to. A long journey awaited me. I never thought that one day I would leave this town where I was born and raised like this. But one day I would come back here, exonerated, they would come to get me. I knew it.

I walked through the door of the hospital, whose gloomy atmosphere could be seen for miles around. The hospital was old and decrepit, with peeling paint and flickering fluorescent lights that cast an eerie glow on everything. The air smelled of antiseptic and decay, like something had died there a long time ago but never been properly disposed of. And in the distance, I could hear faint whispers and moans from the patients who were trapped inside.

It smelled disgusting inside. It was black and white, maybe gray. It was as if they were living in a movie from the fifties. There was no sign of life in their eyes, if there was a smell of despair, it would smell like this place. I wondered what to do in such a dull and boring place.

The people in blue clothes were patients. I could tell right away. The ones in white were nurses and the ones in white coats were doctors. I had been to enough churches to know that those in black were nuns. Of course, that was a long time ago. And then there were the guards. I noticed that they all had tasers in their pockets. None of them carried real guns.

The big hall was a vast, cavernous space with high ceilings and also peeling wallpaper. There were rows of metal chairs bolted to the floor, like something out of an old-fashioned movie theater. And in the center of the room stood a massive statue of some long-dead saint or martyr, its face twisted into an expression of agony.

A male nurse was accompanying me as I walked towards the guards. Since I was the only one dressed differently, even the patients noticed me. One of them pointed a pointing finger at me and laughed. You turn around and laugh at yourself, you jerk.

For a moment it occurred to me that if I stayed here I might actually go crazy. I turned to the nurse next to me.

Eddie. Eddie: Where are we going?

The corridors… well, they were narrow and dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights that cast strange shadows on the walls. I could hear footsteps echoing down them at odd hours - sometimes from other patients shuffling along in their slippers, but other times from things that didn't quite seem human.

Nurse: To get you a ward to sleep in and to get your patient clothes.

I laughed like I was teasing.

Eddie: Will I have a roommate?

The nurse gave a laugh that made it clear he was mocking me.

Nurse: Satan-worshipping assholes like you should be left alone.

As I walked through the dirty and narrow corridors, I wondered which doctor was my doctor. Meanwhile, the nurse continued to complain.

Nurse: I don't understand why they put you in ward A. You assholes belong in C ward.

I hadn't lost my cynical smile. "They must love me very much. They didn't want me to die.''

There were guards bringing a stretcher from across the hall. A white sheet was draped over the person lying on the stretcher. They carried the dying patient past me, emotionless and sullen.

The smile on my face was gone and the nurse was enjoying it.

Nurse: See, Munson? This is your only way out of here once you're in here.

We went into a big laundry room and there were big baskets of the same color blue clothes. Blue dresses for women and blue suits for men. They looked like pajamas. An orderly woman was sitting in front of the door, chewing gum and flipping through magazines.

I noticed that it hadn't stopped raining since the moment I arrived here. All the windows were barred. I wasn't supposed to be in jail, for fuck's sake.

The male nurse left me there. I went over to the person at the door.

Eddie: I was wondering if I could get a L size, I'd like to wear a little looser.

She didn't even look up. "Do you want a personal chauffeur or a cook? Go and get one of those clean ones over there that fits you. Don't bother me.''

I rolled my eyes.

Eddie: Is there a bag or a closet or something I can put my stuff in?

The woman looked at me and lowered her pointy secretary glasses down to the tip of her nose.

"You think this is a hotel, son? The only thing you take with you when you come in here is your body. We even take the wedding rings of the married people who stay here. Because even with that, they somehow find a way to commit suicide or kill someone else.''

I frowned, "How is this allowed? Don't the police do anything?"

The woman thought I was joking and laughed, but when she realized I was serious, she nodded carelessly.

"Most of the people who sleep here have no family or acquaintances. No one comes after them. We are happy to have another empty bed because there are too many patients and too few employees. Now a new psychiatrist will come for you. As if it wasn't enough that we took you."

She was waving a pen in my direction.

I put on the blue hospital gown and put my hair up.

The cell was small and cramped, a musty smell that made my nose wrinkle. There was a single metal bed frame in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress covered in stains and tears. A rusted toilet sat against one wall, barely functional and caked with grime. And next to it was a sink - more like a metal basin than an actual sink - where patients could wash their hands if they were lucky enough to have access to water.

The whole place felt suffocatingly claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough air to breathe properly. And when i looked closely at the walls or floorboards, i could see faint scratches or gouges from previous patients who had tried desperately to escape.

I lay down on the bed and looked out of the window with the bars. Then I stood up quickly. I made a few laps around the room, which was already three steps long. They had taken everything. They had taken my walkman too.

I heard the guard shouting from outside.

"It's almost nine o'clock! Lights out soon!''

anyone who wants a tag list for part 2 please let me know 🩶

my first language is not English so I apologize if I made any translation mistakes, please share with me my mistakes and your thoughts about the fic, I would be very happy. 🫶🏻

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

{Falsifier}

Episode 1: ♡Deluder♡

《Waking up in a body familiar, but uncanny, you unknowingly save an Idol with twins》

《Warnings: Genderbend Ai, Ai Lives Au! Possible yandere. The story is for fun, more warnings to add later.》

-

《Deluder: To cause to hold a false belief; deceive thoroughly.》

-

WAKING UP in a body that wasn't your own wasn't something you enjoyed.

It felt like you were in bed. The next, sitting on the sidewalk with keys that didn't look like your own hanging on your wrist.

The feeling of the metal was cold and woke you from your thoughts.

Your skin felt like a rubber suit, or painted on... The sensation filled you with fear, so you did what any reasonable person would do.

You screamed in terror, jumping up in down while patting your skin and clothes on your back.

It was some work uniform that you had never seen in your entire life?!

While flailing about, you stop when people shot you weird looks. Judgment was very present in passer-buyers eyes. You shoot a nasty gaze right back at them, before turning around and seeing your reflection through a shop glass window.

It was you!

But, not exactly...

Your eyes were big and sparkly, hair was perfect, even after your panic attack. The clothes you wore were only slightly ruffled and a bag that you didn't own, hangs from your shoulder. T

You felt sick.

So you threw up on the concrete. You almost choked on your puke because you wanted to laugh at the shocked and horrified people that saw you spilling out chunks of black and purple.

Whoever's body you were in had eaten some weird-looking stuff. Gross.

Wiping your mouth of the residue and gagging at the taste in your mouth. Listening carefully to the sounds around you, which was some cheesy-sounding pop music.

You look up from your puddle of vomit and see a boy wearing your same uniform. Visibly weirded out by you, yet asks you if you were okay.

As if a switch was inside you, you felt like your body and mind were no longer in one.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little too excited, I got a new apartment so I have to deal with all the moving stuff."

The guy nodded politely, but his face lit up when seeing a poster nearby.

"Ah, I forgot! It's your day off tomorrow, right? Maybe you'll feel better by then!"

The boy was smaller than you, with short choppy hair and big yellow eyes. That's not a normal eye color, but they looked too real to be contacts.

You want to go home. Or to the godamn new home, your doppelgangers body had just bought!

-

"I hated today..." You groan, feeling whatever food was in the stomach of this body swish and gurgle in unpleasantness.

After digging around the bag that wasn't yours. You find a phone, I.D., wallet, and a note.

[Apartment number xxx, street xxxxx, keypad xxxx]

God or whoever, clearly had a love-hate relationship with you.

After walking inside the apartment complex, you smile proudly at yourself.

Look at you! Tired and scared shitless and finding possibly your forever home! Great.

Walking to your room number, you notice someone concealed in dark clothes following after you. Stopping at your neighbors' apartment. Quietly mumbling to themselves as they played with something in their pockets.

Weirded out. You ignore them before looking down at your doorstep.

You feel your eyes widen, a fond yet tired smile masking your face.

Someone left cookies on your doorstep in plastic tupperware.

Maybe.. Maybe that weirdo that was following you was your neighbor!

And you were just brushing off his kindness?!

Damn, now you felt like a ass.

Using all the energy you had left in your system. You hold the container close to your chest.

A friendly smile on your face as you walk over to over clothed man.

You call out to him happily. "Hey! I just wanted to say-!"

The door your neighbor who was standing in front of the door opens.

Your supposed "neighbor" pulls out a knife-

You throw up all over the attacker.

"AUGH! WHAT THE-!" Their weapon falls to the floor as a sickening *crack!* resounds in the hallway.

The attacker's body falls to the floor, vomit mixed with blood staining their hoodie.

Spit dribbles down your mouth, your body finally collapses due to all the stress in your system. Your eyes become blurry with tears or sweat.

You hope once you become unconscious that you'll wake up back in your actual body.

Unaware of the audience that watched you from their doorway.

Their star-eyed pupils become big at your fallen, disgusting form. The beats of your heart barely beating. Which caused your actual neighbor's heart to combust.

-

[Hey! I'm gonna try something new! Please comment, art, heart and reblog enjoy!]